Sat my desk, a bloke walked into my office.
In autumn of 2019, I was 19 and working in recruitment.
And securing one of the guys Jamie, then 29, a job, I began to see him more frequently as he popped in with questions about his payroll.
‘You alright babe?’ he asked, cheekily.
Jamie struck me as a typical cocky Essex boy.
He was attractive, with slicked back hair – like he’d stepped straight out of a Zara.
He even started bringing me tea and Ferrero Rocher chocs.
‘How are you doing beautiful?’ he’d say. ‘I’ve got you a drink as sweet as you.’
And it was quite nice to get some attention.
At first I enjoyed the attention
I thought he was a cocky Essex boy at first
Going bowling in November 2019, he made his feelings clear.
‘Have you not seen the clues?’ he asked. ‘I’ve