‘Why has the Daily News got this fucking story in today’s paper, not us?’ he bellows in my ear.

I flinch. My heart is racing but I try to remain calm. I can feel Ellie and Jack’s eyes on me and my face burns. ‘Because I’ve been working on the exclusive with Margot Powell. It’s nearly finished. Plus, I’m the only journalist who knows, at the moment, that Heather has actually woken up from her coma.’ It’s not fair of Ted to compare. The News is a daily whereas we come out on Tuesday and Friday.

‘Well, write it up as quick as you can and it can be our front-page headline tomorrow. Ellie can put it on the website too.’ He pauses, as if considering something. Then, ‘And can you get hold of this Leo? Sounds like he was a suspect when Flora Powell went missing. He might know more about the current shootings or give us some insight into Heather’s past.’

What will Margot think if I go after her brother? I’m once again torn between wanting the story and my loyalty to the family.

‘I thought the exclusive was going to be the front page.’ I’d spent all weekend working on it, mainly to avoid Rory, who still isn’t really talking to me. I could hear him moving about the flat while I hid in the bedroom. He’d slept with his back to me on both nights, and I’d lain beside him craving a hug, but too stubborn to make the first move.

‘That can go on page two.’

Will Margot be cross if I reveal that Heather is awake? Ted won’t care because, as far as he’s concerned, we’ve got the exclusive now: she’s signed the contract and can’t go back on it. But, I realize, with a jolt, I care. Margot and I are becoming friends. I enjoy her company and would love to see Heather again – despite what she’s supposed to have done. I still want to believe she’s innocent, that there is another explanation. And I don’t want to turn my back on them, like everyone else has. Like this so-called friend of theirs, Sheila Bannerman. Am I turning soft? Ted would think so.

The newsroom is deathly silent as we all await Ted’s next tirade. I brace myself.

‘And have you followed up on Clive Wilson? Talked to neighbours? Found out why someone would leave him such a threatening note when he was already dead?’ he barks.

‘Jack and I had planned to do that today.’

He looks mildly mollified, his shoulders relaxing a fraction. He chews his gum in silence for a couple of moments. Then, ‘Right. Good. But first you can write five hundred words on the fact Heather has come out of her coma and send it over to HQ. You’ve got an hour.’