Her telephone call came to be the highlight of my day. The one bright spot in the long, dreary hours I was forced to spend as assistant stock clerk at Rossiters Vending Supplies. Believe me, it was a fuckin' shit hole and I hated it but I always looked forward to four o'clock in the afternoon like a thirsty man looks forward to an ice-cold lager, because every afternoon at four o'clock, she 'phoned from Head Office. And I loved her. Love her, I mean, 'cos of course, I still do.

I never thought I could fall in love with a voice until I spoke to Stephanie. It was her job to ring every day to check stock levels at Rossiters, see, so that stuff could be loaded onto trucks and sent from Head Office. It was part of my job to work out exactly what stock needed replacing and then I had to tell Stephanie so she could arrange for it to be delivered overnight.

Every afternoon, four o'clock on the dot, we'd talk for, maybe, five minutes or so. Only about stupid things like coffee, tea and chicken soup. Yet every night after work, as I lay in bed, Stephanie raced through my dreams. Sometimes she was blonde and big-breasted, sometimes dark haired and petite, it depended how I felt. Once she was even a blazing redhead with a scattering of freckles across her pretty little nose. No matter how she looked in the dreams, one thing was always the same. Stephanie loved me as much as I loved her. We're soul mates, see, Steph and me…meant to be together forever.

It took me weeks to pluck up the bottle to ask Stephanie for a date. God, I was so nervous. Shit-scared, actually. I was dead sure she'd be able to hear my heart pounding down the 'phone. I made up this story, see - told her I'd be visiting friends near Head Office that weekend and maybe we could meet up for a drink, or even a meal at a nice restaurant or something, my treat. She said no.

Of course, I knew she didn't really mean no. It was obvious she thought that the company wouldn't approve of an office relationship so, next day, I rang her again, didn't I? Told her how I could be real discreet and nobody would ever find out. Told her how much I loved her too, but she still said no.

I thought about it for a day or two then it dawned on me that four o'clock was probably a bad time for Stephanie to talk. At four o'clock, she'd got less than an hour before home time to arrange all the deliveries, not only to my Rossiters but to every other Rossiters in the country. So I decided to ring her in the morning, when she was less busy.

She said no again. She was sorry, she said, but she already had a boyfriend. They were very happy together and even planning to get married in a year or so. She was flattered that I'd asked, but sorry, she couldn't meet me, not even for a drink as friends.

Now there was a third person in my dreams - "The Boyfriend". While Stephanie's appearance changed every night, "The Boyfriend" was always the same - a mean, ugly bastard, quick with his fists and sharp with his tongue, a proper bully. Poor Stephanie was obviously scared shitless of him and that made me love her even more. I wanted to protect her, to rescue her from the man who was making her life so miserable.

I called her loads more times, begging and pleading for a chance. Eventually, I got pulled into the manager's office for a talking-to. Steph's boss at Head Office, Mr. Peabody, had made a complaint, and I was forbidden ever to 'phone Stephanie again.

It was a conspiracy. A fuckin' conspiracy. They were conspiring to keep us apart and I wasn't going to take it lying down. I kept seeing "The Boyfriend" turning up at Head Office, grabbing old Peabody by the throat and shaking him 'til his teeth rattled, making him promise not to let Stephanie speak to me again.

So I sent her flowers. A dozen red roses for love, that cost me most of a week's wages. A few days later, this big, white cardboard box turns up out of the blue on my desk at work. I open it, dead excited, thinking she might have sent me a present too but all that was in there was the roses, all shrivelled and dried up. I tried chocolates next but they came back unopened as well. I spent ages choosing romantic cards - felt a right twat standing there in the newsagents reading through all the poems inside - but they got sent back too, ripped in half. I knew Stephanie hadn't rejected my gifts - she'd never have hurt my feelings like that. No, I suspected old pee-pants Peabody was sending them straight back without even telling her, so I took it upon myself to ring him and threaten him with the consequences. This time, the talking-to I got was an official written warning, one that stayed permanent on my record. I was fuckin' livid, I can tell you.

I couldn't give up. I knew Stephanie was the love of my life and that we were destined for each other, if only obstacles weren't continually being placed in our way by fuckin' interfering busybodies. Before long, Head Office got another transport clerk to make the four o'clock call, a man who laughed at me and kept calling me names like "sicko" and "pervert". I got this funny feeling that the clerk - Malcolm, he called himself - was actually "The Boyfriend". So I had to box a bit clever. I managed to find Stephanie's home telephone number. It took me fuckin' hours in the library checking the directories for her area, writing down loads of numbers, then ringing them all when I got home but I kept at it until at long last my darling Stephanie finally answered the 'phone.

As soon as she realised it was me, Stephanie hung up the 'phone quick-smart. I could have fuckin' kicked myself - "The Boyfriend" was obviously at home and she was too scared to speak to me. Believe me, I had nightmares all that night. In a real cold sweat, I was, thinking he'd beat her up or something for taking that call. I had to see her and make sure she wasn't too badly hurt. Once Stephanie saw me and realised just how much I loved her, I knew she'd find the courage to leave "The Boyfriend". We could run away together, move to another part of the country far away from Rossiter's, Mr. fuckin' Peabody and "The Boyfriend" and no one would ever be able to keep us apart again.

I took the day off work - 'phoned in sick - and got the train to Head Office. I went prepared, just like a fuckin' Boy Scout. You've got to remember that I didn't even know what Steph looked like, so I took this envelope with her name written on it. Real bright lime green, it was. I'd read about it in a spy thriller - this guy is looking for someone and he gives this letter with their name on it into reception at the place where they work. Then he hangs about outside, watching through the windows until he sees the bird behind the desk give the envelope to somebody - that's why it has to be a bright colour, see, so's you can see it being passed over from outside.

So, anyway, I took the lime green envelope and I also bought her another huge bunch of roses. Oh, and I took a knife too, just in case I should happen to run into "The Boyfriend" and need to protect Steph. It was the big knife my Mum uses to cut up chips and things - dead sharp, it is. I just borrowed it from the kitchen.

So, I give my green envelope to the receptionist then hang around where I can see what she does with it. There's this big fountain, right outside the main entrance and I sort of hid behind it so I could see her but she couldn't see me. Just my luck, it started to snow after about an hour, these big, wet flakes that went down my neck and everywhere. I was so fuckin' cold…

Comes to lunchtime and all these women rush out, off to do their shopping or something. For a minute, I thought I'd missed her in the crowd, but then I see the woman behind the desk holding out my envelope and another woman taking it from her.

She's beautiful. Fuckin' gorgeous. She's wearing a blue coat. Blue coat, black trousers and these little boots with heels that go tap-tap-tap on the paving stones as she walks by. She's got lovely blonde hair, long and shiny and all glistening with snowflakes. She walks right past me, chatting to her mate, so close that I can smell her perfume and even see the envelope just sticking out of her coat pocket. I'm so fuckin' cold by now that I can't speak, so I let her walk by, then I go off and sit in a café with a cup of hot coffee. I keep drinking cup after cup of coffee, watching the hands of my watch gradually creeping round until it's almost five o'clock. At five, I'm waiting for her outside her office.

There's too many people about. Loads of women and men, one of which might be "The Boyfriend" for all I know. So I follow her. She goes from the office to the bus stop, her heels tap-tap-tapping on the pavement. There's still too many people about at the bus stop, so I have to get on the bus as well.

She sat alone so I guess that meant that "The Boyfriend" wasn't with her after all. We're on the bus and I'm watching her real close. She's reading a book and I can see her eyelashes, real long and dark but I can't quite make out the colour of her eyes. She's smaller than I thought, a bit plump, and she's got this cute little dimple on one cheek - I see it when she smiles at the conductor. And when she asks him for her ticket and I hear that voice, I go all shuddery and warm inside.

We got off the bus and she's off tap-tap-tapping down the street again with me behind her. I know I've got to act quickly ' cos I don't know where she lives and she could be in a house any second and I've lost my chance. I jog a few steps to catch up, calling her name. I've got my hands in my pocket, see, 'cos it's so fuckin' cold and I'm holding tight to the handle of the knife in case "The Boyfriend" pops up out of nowhere to meet her.

She turns to face me, eyes wide. She sort of flings up her arms as if to hug me and I reach out to hold her but then I realise that she's not hugging but fighting. I can hear screams too, far off, distant screams. I try to hold out the roses but she knocks them from my hand onto the snow. I have to stop the screams. Have to - they're hurting my ears. We're sort of wrestling, struggling, then suddenly she kind of slips in the snow and she's falling.

Then there's silence. I can hear my own breathing and I think I can even hear the snow falling. I look down at Stephanie, wondering if she's knocked her head or fainted or something and see rose petals bright against the snow. Red rose petals, dozens of them against the white. I look at my hand and realise I'm holding the knife and that rose petals are falling from the blade. I reach down to help her up, but before I can touch her there's shouting and running feet and someone grabs me and throws me to the ground. I lie there cold and wet, my face next to hers and she's groaning, ever so softly and I can feel her warm breath on my cheek. I realise she's saying my name really quiet like, sort of moaning. Kevin…Kevin…Kevin…Over and over again, as if she can't quite believe it's me and she's real happy I'm there. Then, suddenly, the warmth disappears and the cold takes over again.

Was it Mr Peabody that called you or "The Boyfriend"? That Malcolm. 'Cos it won't do any good - we're going to be married soon, me and Steph, whatever they say and you can't stop us, even if you are the police. We love each other, you see. We're soul mates. Together forever, 'til death us do part.

Copyright © Nikki Sly