Holly returned to Willowbury feeling more than a little bit confused. How could it be that, while her heart was still breaking, she felt so elated by the coverage from the demonstration? Although the media attention had, at first, been unsettling, she saw it as shining a much-needed light on a very important issue, and she was pleased that, through the media, she’d been able to reach out to so many people. What Charlie had been unable to accomplish, perhaps she and the other campaigners, through more grass-roots action, could achieve.

As she let herself back into her flat that evening, she allowed herself another quick search of Twitter to see if there were any more developments on the case. Alongside the usual hashtags, and the cringe-inducing #GreenGoddess one, she noticed a couple of links to a story on one of the more sensationalist so-called news websites, AllFeed. With growing incredulity, she read the story, heart thumping faster and faster as she took in the full extent of it.

‘What the hell…?’ she murmured. She saw the same blurred photographs, obviously pinched from some tourist’s Instagram feed, and felt a rising sense of horror and outrage. How dare they say those things about her and Charlie? Damsel in distress, indeed! The thought of selling herself to Charlie in exchange for his political help was sickening and would do absolutely no good for the CF medication campaign.

Re-reading it carefully, to be absolutely sure she wasn’t misunderstanding anything, she wondered, finally, who the ‘concerned source’ had been. Could they even get away with printing something like this uncorroborated? Even in these days of so-called ‘Fake News’?

She sat down in her armchair, head spinning, and not just because she hadn’t eaten since lunchtime. What should her next move be? A small voice told her to call Charlie; they needed to talk about the full implications of a story like this, for both of them. But what, reasonably, could they do? A denial would just fan the flames, and they’d split up anyway, so it wouldn’t bring them back together. But who else could she talk to? Rachel would just tell her to laugh it off, to forget about it; it was a non-news story. But it damaged her credibility, as a woman, a campaigner and a business owner. She had to find out who’d fed AllFeed the story and she needed to do something about it. But how could she?

While she was mulling all this over, her phone pinged with a message. Heart thumping, she swiped the screen. She’d deleted Charlie’s number from her phone when they’d had their last face-to-face conversation, so for a moment she didn’t realise the message was from him, but as she read it, there was no doubt.

I know I’m the last person you want to see right now, but I think we need to talk. Are you at home?