Harri is feeling tense, twitchy, not as centred as she’d like to be. She should be relieved. Imogen has done excellent work, and turned it around so fast. Fallen Angels will love it. Even Mackenzie should love it, or at least, love the result. This should save The Know for now, or at least grant it a stay of execution. Still, Harri knows she’s contravened her own moral code. Putting Imogen through all of this stress is definitely a Mackenzie move. It’s grubby, not telling her about the sponsored element. Still, the copy is perfect, so the end has justified the means.

‘I’m glad you like it, ‘ says Imogen, sounding flat. Is she upset about something else? She seems very tired.

‘We’ll get Kim to do the illustration, he’ll do a fantastic job on this. Everyone’s going to be so pleased. Even management—Akila has already lined up some serious advertising on the back of this, so…’

Harri spots something unsettling flashing across Imogen’s face. Anger? Resentment?

‘I guess that’s good, that Hudson can make some money out of my—’

‘What?’

‘No, nothing, sorry. I’m really pleased. Just a bit tired. I’ve had a few late nights!’

Harri notices the dark circles under Imogen’s eyes, and winces with guilt. Come on! She’s twenty-seven! She should have limitless energy and peachy skin! Harri has two whole extra decades of tiredness to deal with! When they make you the editor, when you’re up all night frowning at Mackenzie’s impossible pie charts, then, by all means, come back and yawn in my face.

‘Well, there might be more late nights to come! I’ve got plans for you! I think we could maybe do a series on the sexiest nights in the capital. Maybe send you all over the country on exciting trips! That would be fun, wouldn’t it? Akila was just telling me about a dildo making workshop in Norwich…’

Imogen does not look too thrilled about this. ‘Harri, I was wondering…I think I might be coming down with something. Could I maybe…go home? It feels like a bug, hopefully if I can catch it now, I can sleep it off.’

Harri realises this is an opportunity for her to be magnanimous. She can afford to be. The poor girl does look like shit. Maybe it is a bug. ‘Oh, love, of course, go. Get some rest. Do you want me to get you a taxi? I’d treat myself to a black cab if I were you, you don’t want to be thrown around in the back of an Uber if you’re feeling poorly.’

Did Imogen just roll her eyes? ‘Um, no, I’ll walk. I could probably use the fresh air.’

Chapter Thirty-Eight

The great affair is to move

Imogen