"Just not that into you...."

It's ten o'clock in the evening and I'm once again having my "usual" (chicken tikka, vegetable karahi, a massive nan and a salt lassi) with my friend Sue. I tell her that this morning I received an extremely unusual email from Line Manager apologising for taking so long to thank me for the minutes of the team meeting I helpfully sent through to him three days ago. His dilatory response is entirely normal; it is the addition of an apology which has made this communication so very singular. It's the first time he has sent me an email like this during our entire twelve year working relationship.

"Perhaps he's making an effort...." says Sue.

I tell her about the time recently when Line Manager and I were heading off to the same meeting, and in order not to walk across to the other building with him, I suggested that he go ahead while I detoured into the safety of the ladies loo. I deliberately took my time over the hand-washing, hair-brushing, lippie-applying procedures only to emerge and find he was waiting for me outside. Yikes.

"Aw," says Sue. "Poor man." (Did I mention she is a tender-hearted creature?) "Don't you think you're being a bit mean to him?"

Hmmmmm.

Sue - like all my friends - has my full permission to challenge my conduct on a regular basis, so of course I am unable to entirely dismiss what she says. Which means I have to pause in the middle of stuffing my face and consider if what she is saying might be true.

Am I being "mean" to Line Manager?

I review the events of the past few weeks. His tentative attempts to discuss someone's recent leaving do with me. His "hovering" by my desk. His occasional phone calls to my office when he could just email me his query. And the fact that he has started adding little jokes into his emails. And yet if he reviews my behaviour in turn, he must surely note that I avoid him as much as possible, only engage in conversations about work, do not respond to any "friendly" overtures, and keep things on a totally neutral footing.

It reminds me of that book about women who pursue men unrequitedly: "He's just not that into you". I am Just Not That Into Line Manager.

Sue adopts an expression like a puppy which has just been kicked by its brutal owner, and makes authentic whimpering noises, causing the guys behind the counter to look quite alarmed. "Poor Line Manager" she says again.

"Traitorous cow!" I shriek. "Have you forgotten everything I have told you about Line Manager's former perfidy? The fact he humiliated me in front of two new colleagues and an intern? That when I finally challenged him about his bullying behaviour and appalling management, he lied, did everything he could to discredit me, and ensured that I was isolated and ostracised by members of my own department? That I suffered months of stress and difficulty and as a result became so unwell I was actually signed off work? Have you forgotten all these things??"

Sue shrugs. "No," she says, "but I thought you said you'd forgiven him. It seems to me you still want to punish him".

I think about it for a bit.

"You may be right," I say. "But to be honest, more than anything else in the world, I just want him to leave me alone".