‘Apparently some advertisers have pulled out and Tabloid doesn’t have sufficient money to operate at current costs. In other words, there’s word the management might be retrenching—firing staff. And you know what that means—whenever there’s retrenchment at a media office, the journalists are the first to go—we are the least important employees!’ Neelima says.

I am pretty shocked. Neelima smiles smugly at my reaction. She loves being the know-it-all at work.

‘Who are they firing?’ I ask.

I dread the answer. Comma has had it in for me since my first day at Tabloid and I expect Neelima to tell me the worst—she certainly seems very keen to tell me.

‘No one’s giving out names yet but don’t you worry Polly, I’m sure you’re safe. The talk is that only those who haven’t been performing need watch out. They’ll be the first ones to go,’ Neelima says.

‘Does that mean you are finally being fired then, Neelima?’ Ragini asks. She climbs down the stairs, an unlit cigarette in her hand.

‘Thanks for thinking about me, Ragini,’ Neelima replies sarcastically, ‘but my job’s safe. I’m a good worker and then my husband also heads a department.’

‘Of course, how could I forget? I suppose the rest of us should be worried. We aren’t fucking the head of any department,’ Ragini says with a smirk.

‘Oh but you are, Ragini. We all know you’ve already secured your job bent over a bathroom sink,’ Neelima says nastily and walks away.

The twins mouth a silent ‘Ooooh’ at Ragini and follow Neelima.

For a moment I consider telling Ragini what I saw on the terrace—Neelima won’t feel as smug then. However, before I can tell Ragini anything, she turns on me.

‘And you—don’t you do anything but spread stories?’ she growls at me.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ I reply—the second time in the last ten minutes. Why do people insist on talking in riddles?

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Ragini says, mimicking me. She lights her cigarette.

‘Why are you always so stupid? I’m talking about whatever you were discussing with your new best friends—you’re constantly around them—it’s disgusting,’ Ragini says jerking her thumb towards Neelima and the twins—or where they’d been standing.

‘I’m not constantly around them. And if you don’t want me speaking to them as much, how about you speak to me some more? I tried talking to you on Monday, but you ignored me. I didn’t see you in office on Tuesday. I also sent you text messages but you didn’t respond,’ I tell her angrily.

Ragini shrugs off my outburst.

‘Who sent you to spy on me that night?’ she asks.

The question shocks me.