And before I can even ask why, the door opens inwards, Jason suddenly tall and stiff in a salute as if he’s been standing like that the whole time. For there, framed low in the doorway, is half a man; a brick-set uniformed torso and head on top of two beefy stumps poking from a shiny silver wheelchair, eyes glittering up at us.

‘Why, you must be Carly,’ the head says, nodding. ‘Jason’s told me all about you.’

53

Marie ~ London ~ 2006

‘Now? Really?’ Dominic looks up from his slump in front of the bank of monitors blinking in one of the windowless edit suites opposite the news desk. His breakfast has barely gone down, crumbs falling off the hand rubbing his eyes. People stash themselves in here to hide as much as to edit, each sponge in the soundproof walls a vault of tears, fury, betrayals – you name it. Except these are sponges that never leak.

‘Yes, now. We’re on the clock, remember? A few hours in the Travelodge so we didn’t get our heads kicked in was too much for you last time I looked and now you want to have a second breakfast?’

I smooth down the buttons of my coat, looking at the light reflecting up at me from my boots instead of at his stunned face.

‘Oh come on, Marie. It’s not even ten. How did you even get them to answer the phone?’

‘Her name’s Beata,’ I say, squinting at my reflection. ‘She’s nineteen now. The Salvos got hold of her a couple of years ago. Romanian, came here where she was fifteen on the promise of a job, food, board … all the usual patter. Then she was basically treated as a house servant with benefits…’

‘Seriously? But I spent weeks…’

‘I called a branch in Broxbourne. They jumped at it when I told them they’d get national exposure. But we need to get going now, unless you want to scratch your arse in traffic instead of in here.’ I reach round the door for his coat hung on the peg on the back.

‘I don’t understand,’ he says, blinking at the monitors like they might answer him instead. ‘I gave the London lot my name, repeatedly. And I’m the one on the actual telly…’54

I bat him with his coat.

‘Broxbourne, you said? Like, where the zoo is?’

‘Mary’s waiting downstairs. Come on,’ I say, dropping his coat over his head. ‘She’ll love hearing about the zoo. After all, she knows you’re a big cat, doesn’t she?’

‘Broxbourne…’ he mumbles as he stands. ‘Of all places.’ I finally look back at him as he buttons up. ‘Does that zoo have the big five? I’ve yet to see a rhino in this country…’