Harri is old enough and tired enough to know this won’t end well. Something seriously sketchy is happening at Hudson, worse than she’d feared. And if she was the true heroine of her own life, she’d stop the rot, reverse the wrongdoing, seek justice for her friends and save the day. But she knows that people who are prepared to manipulate, sneak and dissemble in order to accumulate that much money cannot be vanquished by something as basic as the truth. Here, morals are meaningless. She feels a bit sick. She can’t do nothing, but she knows she can’t really do anything, either. She had been thinking of her escape plan as a hope, a dream, a way to create some breathing space in her head. Now she knows she has no other option. It’s not just her career at stake, but Imogen’s, too. Forewarned is forearmed, they say. But Harri’s googling has not helped her to feel prepared. She’s in a state of panic. Now, more than ever, she needs to feel solid, certain, sure-footed. She needs to ignore her sense that life as she knows it is about to descend into freefall.

She wishes she’d never seen that bloody brochure.

Chapter Fifty-One

There’s more than one way to be exploited

Imogen

‘Imogen, can I ask you a weird question?’ Harri looks tentative. ‘I hope you don’t mind. I’ve been thinking about you and Sam Strong. Has he ever…hurt you? Has he ever done anything to make you feel uncomfortable?’

Harri is, I’m learning, much chattier when it’s just the two of us in the office. We’ve been staying late and plotting for almost a fortnight. It’s thrilling, it’s exciting, it’s inspiring. I’m exhausted.

‘No…maybe…I’m not sure.’ I’m slightly cagey. I don’t really want to think about it too hard.

‘When did you last see him?’ Harri asks gently.

‘It’s been a while. There was,’ I think about mentioning The Gentleman and decide that it might be a story for another time, ‘a moment when I met some of his awful friends, and I’ve pretty much ignored his messages since. Not completely ignored them, I’ve just told him I’m busy. And I am busy,’ I say, failing to keep the defensive note out of my voice. Harri looks thoughtful. ‘I bet that makes him even keener. The dickhead. Sorry, I know you’re still involved. Honestly, I’d not thought about him for years. I make sure I avoid his part of the paper on Saturdays but when I do, I get flashes of rage. He made me very unhappy, but maybe he’s changed?’