Ellen smirked at the exact moment Felicia looked at her, which was an unfortunate coincidence, to say the least.

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ Felicia spat, sarcastically, ‘have I interrupted?’

Ellen quailed. She could kill Kayleigh, who – she knew, without looking – was loving this.

‘No, Felicia –’ Ellen started. She could feel her colleagues’ eyes on her. They’d be sympathetic afterwards, but right now, there’d be a thrill in the spectacle of Felicia closing in on her prey. Ellen understood: she always felt the same way. ‘Sorry, I was just thinking. Of something else. Something entirely and totally unconnected. Just a funny thing … that came to me,’ she added. ‘Just there. At that exact moment.’

Too much?

Felicia raised an eyebrow again. ‘Right.’

A long pause, in which Ellen’s ears rang with shame.

‘How convenient.’ Felicia licked her lips. ‘Still, while I’ve got you …’ She paused here. ‘Eleanor’ – a satisfied smirk – ‘can you tell me why, exactly, you haven’t volunteered?’

Ellen opened her mouth, hoping an excuse would manifest itself. ‘I have something on …’ she said, certain she sounded unconvincing. ‘In the daytime. On Saturday. A family thing,’ she added, in a rush of inspiration. ‘It’s a private thing. I would rather not say. It’s personal.’

Felicia arched one micro-bladed eyebrow. ‘Of course,’ she said, coolly.

Ellen struggled to brazen out the eye contact.

‘I do hope it’s nothing serious.’

Ellen put on a grave face. ‘Thank you.’ She hung her head, expression downcast, and hoped again she wasn’t overdoing it.

After a pause, Felicia snapped a finger at the intern sitting on the floor.

‘Abha, you’ll come. Right, girls, what’s next?’

At least she’d remembered Abha’s name, Ellen thought.

After the meeting, Kayleigh apologized. ‘Your face, though. It was really funny.’

Ellen tried sulking but was helpless in the face of Kayleigh’s impression of her. They giggled. As Felicia stalked past, skirts swooshing, Ellen heard her tutting. She had forgotten laughing was frowned upon.

Despite showing little more than utter contempt for most of the people she had employed, Felicia would occasionally stick around for Friday-evening drinks, as she’d done yesterday. Ellen assumed she had seen this suggested in some zeitgeisty Silicon Valley executive handbook. Felicia’s presence disturbed the natural order of things, and Ellen usually became very self-conscious about how she was standing, and whether or not her voice was too loud. Last night, though, it seemed that Ellen had drunk enough to overcome this shyness. Her body seized with shame at the recollection. Felicia had an elephant’s memory; Ellen would be punished.