Before she could answer, there was a general straightening of postures and quietening down of conversations as Mike Long, the studio head, strode through the newsroom doors. Summer immediately glided over to him. For a stunned second I thought they must have a date. I would have considered that none of my business except that our main newsreader worked on Reception until Mike took a fancy to her, and Summer’s comment about my job security came back to slap me in the face.

‘Right, I’ve not got long but this one has persuaded me to buy the first round,’ he boomed across the room before throwing a wink at Summer. ‘So are we ready to hit the town and party like it’s almost Christmas?’

There was a flurry of laptops being signed off and coats and bags grabbed as my colleagues, who all seemed to know what was happening, hurried to join Mike and Summer by the entrance. Jamal wandered back over to my desk. At some point in the past few minutes he’d slipped into a smart jacket and added a reindeer tie.

‘Ready?’

‘Ready for what?’ I asked, a snowball of dread gaining momentum as it rolled through my intestines.

‘Christmas drinks.’ Jamal frowned. ‘With the boss.’

‘I… I wasn’t invited.’

‘Bea, everyone was invited. Part of the whole new team-building strategy. We had a reminder email this morning. “Do not forget. We expect to see all of you there. No excuses.”’

‘What?’

As unrealistic as it was to assume that the entire newsroom was invited apart from me, the main weather broadcaster, who people seemed to mostly get along with, old habits die hard. The sight of everyone gathering without me sent a hundred horrible memories stampeding through my brain, crushing my self-esteem underfoot as they went.

‘Don’t tell me – another missing email?’ Jamal flashed a look at Summer, currently linking arms with Mike as she threw back her head and laughed in full flirt mode. Jamal had a theory that Summer was sabotaging my calendar, intercepting my emails in an attempt to get me fired so she could slither into the top job. I preferred to believe that my head was still recovering from the roller coaster that was my love-life, rather than anyone I worked with being capable of something so malicious. My upbringing at Charis House had instilled in me the need to see the best in everyone, even when they failed to see much at all in me. Besides, I was pretty sure Summer barely knew how to send an email, let alone hack into one.

‘Well, you can still come along, no harm done.’

‘Except I can’t. My train leaves in an hour.’

‘So catch the next one.’

‘The next one is at ten. If I wait for that I’ll miss the last bus to Hatherstone.’