So today me and Kyle are launching our Copper Bottom Pledge campaign! We want something good to come out of what’s happened and we’re calling on banks to pledge to protect ordinary, hardworking people like you. Because even when they don’t do anything actually illegal, these traders are basically playing the stock market like it’s some sort of casino and it’s all great and wonderful until something goes wrong, because it’s your money they’re gambling with, and they need to learn there are consequences.

So what we think is, we think these people shouldn’t be allowed to treat your pension like it’s their personal ATM! We want you to make your voices heard and boycott banks who won’t sign up to our Pledge to make these men – and it’s nearly always men, isn’t it? – accountable. There are two million of you in our Kyper Nation and we can use that power!

Like Kyle says, the least Felix Porter could do is stay and face us instead of running away like a total coward. He’s left all of us in the lurch and just disappeared and so now we want you to break the internet and help us track him down!

I’ve put his photo on the bottom of the screen and there’s a link just below the comments section where you can text him directly, and we want you to blow up his phone! And if you see him in the street take a picture and send us a message and we’ll add it to our Felix Tracker!

Because we’re giving you notice, Felix Porter, you and all the other men out there like you! Like that guy says in the movie — What’s it called?

— Thanks, babe, I knew you’d know.

To paraphrase the guy in Network, we’re super-angry and we’re not going to take it any more!

chapter 39

millie

‘You have to stop her,’ Stacey says.

‘I’m not sure that’s possible,’ I sigh. ‘You’ve seen what Harper’s like when she gets the bit between her teeth.’

Stacey scrubs at an invisible stain on her pristine marble counter: I’ve never seen her this rattled. ‘She’s going to set the media circus going again with this ridiculous vendetta of hers,’ she says. ‘They’ve only just stopped camping on my doorstep, but if she doesn’t stop she’ll bring them all back.’

Until now, Stacey’s been lucky: less than twenty-four hours after the revelations about Copper Beech hit the headlines ten days ago, a new Royal scandal broke and knocked everything else off the front pages.

Jogging past the Glass House last week, I noticed the throng of journalists and desperate investors had dwindled to fewer than a half-a-dozen. The morning after that, it was down to a lone photographer. By the time I finished my five-mile loop even he was gone.