The lifts were full of the lunchtime news team knocking off, so I sprinted down the fire-exit stairs, past the smokers, across the tiny park to the busy Cut, where I found Donna and Joseph Blake standing on the pavement outside the pub. He was practically crying as she berated him, waggling a finger at him, her other hand on her hip. Sally was trying valiantly to stop the row like the jolly prefect she was, and failing miserably.

‘But Maggie knew,’ I could hear Joseph imploring. ‘Maggie said it was okay.’

‘Yeah, well, I ain’t no soft-touch-Maggie,’ Donna spat at him as I panted up beside them, my foot aching now. ‘She’s out of control herself these days. And it weren’t Maggie’s bleeding book in the first place, was it?’ Then she realised it was me standing beside her.

‘Oh,’ she finished feebly.

‘What’s going on?’ I eyed the two of them like naughty children.

‘She found out.’ A red-faced Joseph was wavering between anger and tears. ‘You said it would be okay.’

‘I did not say that, Joseph, and you know it.’

‘You knew it was him, man, and you never told me,’ Donna accused me.

‘I haven’t really seen you since I found out,’ I told her quietly, holding out a placating hand to calm her. I’d forgotten all about her book. ‘That’s enough, everyone.’ The rest of the girls were gathering in a small intrigued circle around us. ‘Get back to the office please.’ I flapped my hands at them like a flock of geese. Reluctantly they began to move off.

‘But they should know too,’ Donna said sullenly. ‘It’s their right.’

‘Donna!’ Sally’s tone was sharp. ‘Come on, you lot. Feeding time’s over.’ She herded them across the road like a sheepdog would.

I turned back to the stand-off. ‘I wanted to talk to you in private about this, Donna.’

I understood why she was upset – fiercely ambitious and competitive, she’d worked bloody hard to get this far. She’d had a tough life and she needed to succeed, just like I had once, when I’d sought something to fill the gaps. But shouting in the street was one step too far.

‘Why? Why can’t we get it all out in public?’ she jeered. ‘Or should we just go and have a drink, Maggie, and chat about it nicely?’

‘Donna –’

‘Just sack me, Maggie, seriously,’ Joseph Blake interrupted. ‘I don’t care. I want to leave anyway. I hate the bloody lot of you.’ He was crying now, tears streaming down his plump soft cheeks, his blond quiff descending as he sobbed.

Donna gazed at him, transfixed with horror as the workmen on the scaffolding above started to hoot and jeer.

‘Shut up,’ I snarled at them, but they just jeered some more.