‘Wanna come Carping this weekend?’ Visions of torrential rain hammering holes in the surface of a murky green lake surrounded by huddled men in green macs avoiding their wives and children filled Graham’s head. He shook his head firmly, hoping the office geek, Ned, would leave him alone. ‘I’ve never been into fishing; I’ll pass.’ Ned laughed, that annoying bray which set Graham’s teeth on edge. ‘No man, it’s like Larping, but real niche,’ ‘And you think I know what Larping is because…?’ Ned was about to reply when Shirley, blonde, buxom Shirley from Accounts, who was currently between boyfriends and fair game, cut in with an excited squeal. ‘You are going Carping? Oh my gawd, you have to let me come!’ Graham jumped in, feigning the same level of enthusiasm. “You can be my plus one, Shirl.’ He winked, she giggled, Ned frowned in vague annoyance, but buried it quickly in his reply. ‘Yeah, why not? Meet me at the Red Rooster on Acre Street, 6am Saturday.’...