Quill patted Sarah’s shoulder. ‘Here we go. Good luck.’

‘I’m a professional,’ she said.

‘Don’t spill your drink on him.’

‘Now you’ve jinxed that.’ She put her wine glass down on the table.

‘You’d be Geoff Sumpter of the Enfield Leader,’ said Vincent, holding his hand out to Sarah’s editor as he arrived. ‘Russell Vincent.’ The voice was how Quill remembered it from the telly: that slightly puzzled, self-mocking tone, as if he was stumbling his way along, delighted by life. It was a public school voice, but a chummy, harmless one. Quill found it all very artificial, a deliberate attempt at being charming. He remembered the most famous moment of the Bussard Inquiry, when Vincent, in the middle of dealing with the charges of phone hacking that had been levelled against his newspapers, had had also to deal with his own mobile ringing during his testimony. His frantic, clownish efforts to switch it off had actually got the ministers laughing. Quill fixed a smile on his face now, hoping he wouldn’t have to talk to him.

Geoff introduced his team, and Vincent shook each hand in turn. ‘I’m not going to remember anyone’s name, you realize; I have people to do that. Which of you is Sarah Quill?’

Geoff indicated Sarah, who was now looking flabbergasted. ‘Er, hello!’

Vincent held up his hands. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve got a list here of one person on each of the acquired titles whose work I think is exemplary. Or rather, who my people think is exemplary. They want me to tell you it’s me who thinks that – but oh dear, I’ve blown that. The rest of you are disposable!’ He threw up his hands before they could even react and laughed. ‘No, no, you all get to stay. In fact, yours is the title I think we’re going to keep doing exactly what it does now. I think you lot might actually be able to win your circulation battle, once you’re plugged into our distribution network.’ Quill watched the smile on Geoff’s face getting broader and broader. ‘Geoff, you run a great ship. You all enjoy yourselves. I just need a quick word with Sarah and her husband here.’

Quill girded his loins as, without pausing, Vincent led the two of them off into a gap that automatically opened for him in the midst of the crowd. His people had not followed him, but had been left to carry on chatting up Geoff and his team. Quill was aware of everyone in the room wondering who they were to deserve such face time.