TJ is there, right in the thick of the scrum, his blond head towering above the flowing blow-waves as the pack moves like a support crew alongside the lawyer, who has stopped talking and is trying to make his way to his office.

‘Where are we with the podcast?’ Dawn says suddenly, spinning around. ‘And don’t forget, tomorrow I want you to write a piece for the paper introducing the first episode with some background about why we’re doing it and what people can expect next.’

Oli blanches. ‘You didn’t mention a launch piece. Do you really think it’s necessary?’

‘Yes,’ Dawn barks. ‘Content fuels content. Come on, Oli. Surely you’ve noticed that people just want to consume the same thing over and over, then rake it over the coals until there is literally no part of it they have not chewed, swallowed, spat up and eaten again. They watch shows and then watch shows about the shows they’ve just watched.’ Dawn snorts derisively. ‘The more we can milk each story the better.’

Through the glass panel they observe an intern sticking up a glossy poster on the communal pin board near Oli’s desk. She stands back to reveal the contestants on the new season of The Bachelor: cosmetically enhanced women arranged in a layout reminiscent of a horseracing form guide. The intern carefully draws a cross through one of the faces with a Sharpie.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Dawn mutters. She spreads out her fingers and presses them around her skull as if trying to make the stupid stop.

Oli tries to take advantage of this vulnerable moment. ‘Do you really think I should write the launch piece? Maybe it should come from someone else—it would be more objective.’

‘No, it has to be you. Your readership is decent, and this way it all ties together.’

Crossing her arms, Oli looks at the floor. ‘Fine.’ It’s hard to know if her involvement in the podcast will appear like a promotion or the beginning of a phase-out.

‘And you need to get moving,’ Dawn says. ‘I need this thing up and running so the exec team can find something else to masturbate over.’

‘We’re recording the first episode this morning, and we’re already working on the narrative for episode two.’

Dawn seems to calm a little. ‘What else?’

‘We have a few interviews lined up.’ Oli refrains from mentioning names; all of a sudden it feels safer to remain vague. ‘It’s all under control.’

‘Alright, alright.’ Dawn’s eyes are back on the TV.

‘And Bowman agreed to meet with me tomorrow night.’

Dawn’s head jerks up. ‘He did?’

‘Yes.’ Oli’s deep voice cracks.

Dawn gives her a look, seems about to say something, then shakes her head.

Oli self-consciously runs her tongue along her teeth. ‘What?’

‘Oli, I’ve always thought you were a good journalist.’

She feels the room tilt slightly.