‘Why has Summer moved to first place?’

Baxter threw him a look of mild amusement. ‘I changed my mind. A vital business skill, knowing when to overturn your own decision.’ He took a large spoonful of raspberry posset. ‘Another vital business skill is being able to accurately assess the competition and hone in on their weak spots. Your final task is to do just that. We’ll start with Bea. Calvin, kick us off. Why shouldn’t I give Bea the job?’

‘What?’ Calvin looked horrified. The rest of us did, too. Me especially.

Baxter shovelled in another spoonful while he waited.

‘She’s… not very professional.’ Calvin shrugged. ‘That whole cutesy, pinafore, “let’s all be friends” thing is all well and good for a local news programme, but can it work on a national scale?’

‘Anything else?’

Calvin shook his head, his gaze fixed on his own plate.

‘Ben.’

‘Um… Bea is great but I’m not sure how much she wants this. Is she going to give it everything she’s got? Today’s weather hunt suggests she’ll be offering your competitors tips, not poaching their viewers.’

‘And?’

Ben screwed his face up to deliver his final blow. ‘She can be a bit irritating.’

Ouch.

Baxter jerked his chin at Henry, who merely shook his head in disgust.

Without waiting for her cue, Summer reached across the table and patted my hand. ‘You appreciate that this is a job interview. I fully expect you to maul me to shreds when it’s my turn.’ She then turned to Baxter and let rip.

‘She’s more than a bit irritating. Several of her colleagues have complained that she’s unpredictable and difficult to work with.’

‘That’s not true!’ I couldn’t help blurting.

‘Not your turn,’ Baxter barked. ‘Continue, Summer.’

‘Is it true that you’ve missed numerous important meetings, failed to meet deadlines, and basically stumble from one disaster to another? Behind the camera, she’s a liability. She applied for this job because she knows she’s on borrowed time. I agree with Ben. She doesn’t want it. More to the point, she’s not capable of doing it. For goodness’ sake, she didn’t even get organised enough to know about this interview until the actual day!’

I blinked furiously, tears smarting behind my eyeballs. But there was no way I was about to start crying in front of Baxter Bigwood. Or Summer Collins. Instead, I straightened my shoulders, lifted my wobbling chin and ate my delicious dessert. Screw what Summer said. I was a damn good weather forecaster.

‘Duly noted. Let’s move on to Summer. Bea?’