She slunk into the office around noon, knowing Terence wouldn’t be in for another half an hour. She looked around to see if anyone had noticed her late arrival, but it was quiet – people were out working or grabbing some lunch before the team meeting. Darcy, one of the PAs, glanced up but just gave her a friendly wave. Becky had some work to urgently catch up on but couldn’t help first firing up her computer. A couple of minutes on Google, just to satisfy her curiosity.

Senerix’s website came up. It was sleek and professional, with bright colours and pictures of smiling personnel in sunny fields; the epitome of the healthy outdoors. Snapshots of lush green crops with the company slogan emblazoned over: ‘Your Food is Our Future: Crops in our Care’. Becky clicked onto the ‘Products’ tab and then hovered, unsure. There was a whole range available – did Justin use their pesticides or herbicides, or any one of the other six products Senerix produced? She chose herbicides and a list of eight came up, all with powerful, gladiatorial-sounding names.

She picked the first one: Crixus. It was a herbicide that killed broadleaf weeds and grasses in a number of crop fields including wheat and oilseed rape. She went to click on the product data sheet.

‘What’s that?’ said a voice behind her. Flustered, she immediately closed the tab, hoping, praying, Piers hadn’t seen anything.

‘Do you have to go round creeping up on people?’ she said crossly, as she pulled out the notes she was supposed to be working on.

‘I’ve missed you.’

Becky felt herself tense. Saw Darcy looking over at them from the other side of the office.

‘Where have you been all morning?’ asked Piers.

‘Your admirer’s watching.’

‘Huh?’ Piers looked up, saw Darcy and gave her a wave. She smiled but the frown on her face didn’t entirely disappear.

‘There’s nothing going on between us,’ said Piers.

‘Don’t have to explain yourself to me.’

‘I know that. But me and Darce – we’re just mates.’ He leaned in further and Becky pulled away, conscious of Darcy’s gaze.

‘She likes you. She’s of the belief you like her. Have a bit of decency.’

‘Not sure why she should think that.’

Becky rolled her eyes.

‘Anyway,’ continued Piers, ‘you’ve not told me.’

‘What?’

‘Where you’ve been.’

‘Following up on a call from the news desk. Cat up a tree.’

‘Think you’re funny?’

She turned round on her chair and faced him. ‘Think you’re subtle? I know you want the reporter job.’

‘So do you, Ellis,’ replied Piers.

‘What is it with you and surnames? Some hang-up from your days at your oppressive boarding school? My name is Becky.’

‘Anything you say, Ellis.’

Irritated, Becky turned back to her screen.

‘Are you trying to trump me with some story?’ asked Piers.

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Hand to hair!’ said Piers, victoriously. ‘Now I know you’re lying.’

Damn! She had to work on her poker face. Becky checked the clock. Twenty-five past twelve. She stood. ‘Daily conference. Last trainee there has to make the tea.’