So far, The Know is dazzling no one. There had been a nice write up in MediaGuardian, largely thanks to Harri herself begging a favour from Ruby, an old mate on the main paper. But Lily and Katie claimed all publicity needed to be signed off ‘by internal comms’—and then spent most of the Confessions sponsor money hiring a separate ‘shit hot’ agency to run the site’s social media. The agency had tagged, variously, @u_know, @nono and @the_now. Harri had hoped Emily’s wolf whistling piece would, at least, get a good bit of controversy going. There had been a very brief flurry of agitation, but no one was staying on the site.

It’s the beginning of February, and spring should be on the horizon, but Harri is starting to worry that her professional winter is finally getting started. Still, she has Akila. Harri knows you’re only as good as the people you work with, and Akila might be her best hire yet. She’s known and admired her for years, and she’s turning out to be a real ally. Akila can coax and calm Kim into producing his best work, nurturing his sense of fun while tempering the occasional all-out silliness. Akila does not buckle and weep in the face of Lily and Katie, who have excluded her from at least two meetings, and have turned down all of Akila’s offers of tea. Harri knows that tea is what pumps blood, and love, around the office body. Tea is biblical. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ is working shorthand for ‘I don’t feel as though I have very much to offer, just now, but this is all of the energy I’ve got, and I want to share it with you.’

So when Akila arrives at 8.59, Harri pounces. ‘Kitchen conflab? Cuppa? Apparently there’s a packet of chocolate Hobnobs in the cupboard.’

Soundtracked by the drum-brush whisper of the boiling kettle, Harri jumps straight in. ‘I’m worried. I know the numbers are really not good. Far below projections. And I don’t understand why.’

Akila nods. ‘Yeah, there’s progress, but at the moment we’re not quite strong enough to get much advertiser love. We need to pull something big out of the bag. The Confessions piece is actually doing quite well, the client is happy.’

The kettle boils, and as it clicks, Harri feels her synapses start to spark. Ignition. It’s as if a faulty neural wire has been nudged back into place.

‘Imogen had some brilliant ideas—they freaked the client right out. But I reckon we could revisit them, do more sex content. Have you seen her blog? She had a lot of engagement with her post on pegging.’

Akila wrinkles her brow, and nods, slowly, and Harri keeps talking. ‘It’s when a woman wears a strap on and penetrates…’