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Before I have time to enter full-blown panic stations, Owen arrives. He finds me quickly and nods, then scans the packed tables, and I swear he shivers.

“Hey,” I say as he approaches, his head down as if trying not to make eye contact with any other living beings.

“Hey,” he replies as he turns his back to the tables. “It’s a nice day. Why don’t we take our lunch outside?” He makes his way over to the fridge and takes out a container.

The weather had been nice when I arrived this morning, a crisp blue sky that looked like it’d been freshly washed and hung out for the day. But the building is essentially a large warehouse with no windows other than the very top floor and the lower reception area, so it’s quite easy to let the outside world go by unnoticed when you’re stuck in here all day.

“Sure.” I stuff my lunchbox under my arm and grab my cup of tea, and we head over to the door. I make an apologetic face at Jamal, who just stares in bewilderment as Owen and I leave the staffroom.

We make our way through a small corridor to the stairwell, where we begin our descent.

“I’ve never been out for lunch before,” I say as I tread carefully behind Owen, who is making his way down the stairs as if there’s a fire behind us. “That came out wrong. I mean, I have been out for lunch, just never while at work. I always eat in the staffroom,” I explain in case Owen now thinks I’m some kind of hermit who’s never set foot in a restaurant.

“I never eat in the staffroom,” he says without looking back.

“Why?”

“It’s busy. I don’t like busy.”

“Okay, I get that. But where is there to eat around here? We’re literally in the middle of an industrial park.” I glance around, even though we’re still in the stairwell and there’s nothing to see except the grey walls with a few signs with red arrows guiding staff down the stairs in case of a fire, which has me wondering what we’d do if the fire was on the ground floor and we had to go up to get away from the flames.

Before I can ponder this any longer, we reach the bottom of the stairwell. Owen grabs hold of the metal bar that keeps the fire door closed, and as he does, he turns and says, “You’ll see.”

He pushes open the door, and the sunlight hits us, blinding, drenching rays that smother my skin like a warm hug.

“I didn’t realise how hot it is,” I say as Owen closes the door.

“It’s easy to let the day pass you by when you’re working.” He sets off, and I follow, trying not to spill my tea.

Owen leads me around the back of the building, a place I’ve only ever been when we’ve had a fire drill. We approach a small fenced-off area I’ve always presumed was the bin store.

Hooking his hand through the panels, Owen swings one of them open and stands back, ushering me through what appears to be a tall gate.

I’m intrigued and also a little concerned that I’m going to be sharing my lunch with a bunch of flies. “Isn’t this where they keep the bins?” I ask, approaching cautiously.

“No,” he answers. “The bins are round the other side.”

There’s a hint of something in his voice that almost sounds like mischief as I slide past him and stare at what can only be described as a little slice of paradise. I feel like I’ve stepped into a children’s book, the secret world revealed as if by magic.

I was expecting bulky, ugly plastic bins, a dumping ground that had long since been neglected, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. Hidden within the high fences are all manner of weird and wonderful plants sprawling from pots and tubs. Rectangular flagstones line the floor with white pebbles in between the gaps, and a large, rustic wooden table with a bench is nestled amongst planters with what I think could be olive trees and pruned box hedges.

“What the hell?” I move slowly, taking in the beauty and abundance of colour of such a small, secluded world. “I had no idea this was here.”

“Not many people know about it.”

“Then how come you do?” I ask, inching deeper, feeling as if this could be a portal to another realm.

“I found it during my first week here. I think it’s supposed to be the designated smoking area, but the smokers seem to congregate elsewhere. I needed somewhere to have my lunch. It didn’t look like this, though.”

“What do you mean?” I place my tea on the table and sit on the bench, instantly feeling the calm of the little courtyard settle around me. Opposite me, Owen sets his lunchbox in front of him with his usual careful precision.

“It was just the table and bench. The box hedges weren’t shaped, the olive trees were straggly, and there weren’t stones between the paving slabs.”

I glance at the slabs, which look painstakingly organised. “So, what? You brought the stones in?”

“Yeah. It only took a couple of bags.” He shrugs lightly. “The flags needed breaking up, and it needed more greenery if it was going to look nice. I’ve just neatened it up.”

I stare around the courtyard again. “I can’t believe you did this.” But actually, I can. Owen always looks immaculate, so it makes perfect sense that he’d pay this much attention to detail to make something look so beautiful.