I feel my temper flare again. ‘This is absolutely ridiculous,’ I say. ‘It’s not how this job works, and you and I know it.’

‘It’s how it’s going to work,’ he says sternly. ‘I had to talk them down from insisting all interviews be carried out over the phone from the office, so count yourself lucky.’

I snort. ‘Yes. I can see how tying my hands from doing my job properly makes me very lucky.’

‘Christ but you’re insufferable at times,’ he says. ‘As you can imagine, the new edicts haven’t gone down the best with your colleagues, so if you want my advice, you’d keep your head down out there. I’ve no need to remind you that for every journalism job out there, there are numerous prospective reporters just chomping at the bit to get the chance at a staff position.’

‘Are you threatening my job here?’ I ask him.

He pauses, steeples his fingers and looks directly up at me. ‘No, Ingrid. I’m not. But you need to be careful you don’t destroy your career yourself.’

‘You need to be careful, too,’ I tell him. ‘Because if things get nasty for me, they can get nasty for you. I’ve not been on my own all of these nights here. We’ve had some adventures.’

I’m ashamed of myself for dragging our affair into it. For being that woman who issues such threats. But I’m angry.

Not waiting for his reply, I get up to leave. If I didn’t think it would set tongues wagging further, I’d slam the door to his office as hard as I could on the way out. Instead, I plaster on a look of nonchalance, even though inside I’m seething, and close the door gently before walking back to my desk as if I don’t have a care in the world.

Chapter Twenty

Declan

Declan is having a good day. It has taken him a while to recognise the unfamiliar feeling of something close to contentment for what it is, but today he doesn’t feel mired in the drudgery of his own life. It could be because his dole money has landed in and while he doesn’t exactly feel flush, it’s nice to have the knowledge that there’s a few quid in his pocket.

He has treated himself to a haircut and a hot-towel shave, and has taken his washing to his ma’s to run through her machine. He throws her a few quid for the cost of the electricity, which he knows she will slip back in his pocket later with a wink that says ‘Don’t be so silly, son.’