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Unauthorised Intruder

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'Uh, guys? She's here again!'

They looked up. Black petticoats and sturdy bristles, a mad, whooping, giggling comet, sweeping around the light fittings, skimming the machines on the shop floor.

'I wouldn't mind,' Jim said, 'but it's kinda distracting. Aren't there meant to be rules about this?'

'Aren't you meant to shut the damn window?' Bert retorted. 'Stop her getting in?'

'No, that was Claire. She's got the key.'

Bert laughed. 'Too late. Look.'

Jim followed his gaze. 'Oh.'

There were two figures up there now, chasing each other gleefully.

'What the hell,' said Jim. He reached for a broom.