“Hello, Margo, lovely to see you!”

It was the same French woman she’d seen on Monday and, come to think of it, there were precious few other people in the Courier offices that she’d seen.

“Can I get you a tea or coffee?”

“No thanks.” Margo cut straight to the chase, “I’ve something you may be interested in paying me for.”

Two delicately-shaped eyebrows danced upwards in surprise. “Something we may want to buy? What do you have?” Interest was evident in her voice and the reporter leaned forward slightly to get a better view of the shopping bag nestling on Margo’s lap.

“I’ll show you, but I want real money for this – not just a few hundred pounds.”

In the distance a telephone rang two or three times before an invisible voice answered. At least there must be some other people working here, Margo thought. The reporter stood up, closing the door on an empty corridor.

“Show me what you have and I’ll see what it’s worth.”

Margo extricated the reporter’s notebook from her bag, laying it down on the table so that June Stevens’ name was visible on the cover. She could see the hunger in the reporter’s eyes as she reached forward. Margo slapped her own hand down hard on top of the notebook. “I want to know what it’s worth before you look at it.”

The reporter reappraised Margo, seeing something she had missed on their previous encounter. “I can’t make you an offer on a notebook without seeing what’s inside. Let me see the last page she wrote and we’ll see if there’s anything worth buying or not.”

Margo hesitated. If she let the reporter read whatever the scribbles meant on the final page, she could get what she needed without paying for it – then again, why should she pay her anything on the basis of a closed notebook? She took the notebook, opening it to the last written page and held it up for the reporter to read. The reporter’s eyes flew back and forth across the page without expression. Margo waited until her eyes stopped moving and snapped the notebook shut.

“Well?”

A smile teased the corners of the reporter’s mouth and Margo knew she’d get something for her trouble.

“I have to talk to my manager. Wait here and we will see what, if anything, the paper is willing to pay.”

Margo sat in the empty office, straining to hear any conversation taking place outside. Apart from the occasional telephone ringing and printer churning out sheets of paper, the offices were quiet. Eventually the reporter returned, followed by a short rotund man who wheezed as he lowered himself into the only other chair.