‘What do you say? Two years in Moscow back working under me, from a distance. It’s a pretty good option for your first posting. Could do a hell of a lot worse. I’ve worked hard to wangle you this – don’t mess it up.’

He wagged his finger in her face as he uttered the final words, like a teacher doling out the star part in the school play. She felt her heartbeat rise, her chest seeming to vibrate with it. As if something inside her knew what was coming and was beating at her ribcage in order to escape.

Madeleine nearly dropped her sandwich when Gabriela told her the news about Moscow. They were sitting on a bench eating their lunch on the stretch of riverside overlooking the Thames.

‘What about you?’ she asked, knowing that Madeleine, too, had been offered another placement, and having already refused her first one would be expected to take it.

‘Fucking Dubai. Bastards,’ she hissed.

‘What’s wrong with Dubai?’ Gabriela asked, stifling a laugh, trying not to sound smug but unable to suppress her pride at being sent on the more serious posting. ‘Loads of people would kill for Dubai; you should hear Johnny banging on about the bottomless brunches in the compound …’

Madeleine gave Gabriela a look of hateful despair at the thought of it and Gabriela smiled back sympathetically, taking a drag. ‘Sorry …’

It wasn’t that she relished Madeleine’s self-perceived failing – on the contrary, she would have loved for her, too, to get the posting she craved, the one that she deserved. But did she feel guilty about her tenure, knowing as she did that Moscow was high on Madeleine’s list of preferred destinations? How could she? It was out of her hands. Besides, dog-loyal as she was, there was no way Madeleine would have spared her a moment’s guilt, had the tables been turned.

‘You’re not going to take it?’

‘Am I fuck,’ she said, grabbing her lighter from the bench and inhaling sharply. ‘I’m telling you now, it’s that bastard Emsworth, he’s had it in for me since the moment I arrived. I should have lied about my geographical preferences, there’s no way he is not doing this to spite me.’

‘He’s not even involved in Communications,’ Gabriela reasoned and Madeleine scoffed, taking another drag of her cigarette and kissing her teeth. ‘Not involved? Oh fucking please. Like he doesn’t have his hands in everything that is going on around here.’

Chapter 6

Isobel

Inside my flat, I collapse against the door, my back pressed against the wood veneer, my breath filling my throat so that it is a struggle to breathe. Too terrified to sit with the thoughts tumbling around my head, scared that they will bury me, I haul myself up.

Looking down at my feet, I notice, as if for the first time, that I’m not wearing shoes.