Lisa, a personal assistant, developed a knack of turning sideways and vanishing like an angelfish. It was an illusion, of course: if you looked closely, she was still there, but less than an inch thick. Most people did not look closely and this was her victory.
She discovered this talent outside the stationery cupboard on floor 7 — the Directors’ floor. She had been restocking their gilt-edged letterhead, a regular task because the Directors enjoyed sending out notes on fancy paper. She emerged from the cupboard and saw Pietr, twenty yards away in the squelchy-carpeted corridor.