Is Anthony bloody Lockwood the best at conveying his emotions? No. He never has been, isn’t and never will be good at that particular department. He’s the youngest supervisor in Britain and a man of many feelings and even more words. Now is no exception, when he saw you outside the house with Quill Kipps. Kipps. Bloody Kipps. The hell were you doing with that wanker? That’s what he was finding out now.

“Kipps.” He fumed, folding his arms with a stern look on his face, tapping his foot incessantly. Lockwood’s eyes bore into yours, and his jaw was ticking.

Clear sign that you shouldn’t tell him the truth - which was that Kipps had asked you out. Lockwood would not be happy in the slightest about that.

There were many items in the living room that he could pick up and throw if he heard the truth. Not only because Kipps was his enemy - no - for a reason that only he (that’s a lie, George and Lucy knew too and teased him about it) knew, and that was ugly green jealousy.

“What were you doing with him?” He pressed, his lips thinning. Lockwood was temperamental on the subject of Quill ‘prick’ Kipps, and this moment was an understatement.

He was about to explode and you knew it- become bloody Mount Vesuvius if he knew that you’d been asked out by his rival.

Ah, well, here goes nothing.