A few minutes later, Mary was sitting in the governor’s office. Luckily, Karen was on duty.

When she came in, she closed the door and gave Mary a huge hug. ‘Week from hell, eh?’

‘It’s certainly in the top three,’ said Mary. ‘How’s Roddie, is he okay? Can you check he’s got his OCD meds? Paroxetine, fifty milligrams, once a day.’

‘I already checked, and don’t worry, he has. We’re kinda thorough about that right now.’ Karen handed Mary a tissue. ‘Your mascara’s running.’

She was drenched. When she wiped her face, the tissue turned into a rainbow of wet, stale makeup. She sighed – imagine having spare energy to fix her face. ‘He’s nowhere near McLaverty, is he?’

‘Same hall I’m afraid, but no contact.’ K poured a glass of water, put a Berocca in it, and handed it to Mary.

‘Can you keep it that way?’

‘I’ll do my best. Drink it.’

Mary downed the vitamins as directed. ‘I’m a bad feminist.’

‘Ha, join the club,’ Karen said. ‘I watched Tess again last night. Nastassja Kinski fix. Can’t help myself. The guy makes great films. Should we run away to Goa, Mair? Get away from all this toxic bullshit?’

‘Goa. The tickets are on me. I think Lil hates me. I haven’t heard from her.’

K began removing and reapplying Mary’s makeup. ‘That’s because her own me-too disclosure was a really big thing, if you remember. You need to think more than you drink.’

‘I know, I know.’

‘Why would you want to help them weaponise it, for fuck’s sake?’

‘I don’t! I didn’t mean to.’

‘Apologise to Lil, and quit stand-up, obviously. You’re about as funny as a crèche in D Hall.’ K checked Mary over, then dabbed some water on her hair in order to flatten a stray lump. ‘Listen, Roddie doesn’t want to see you.’

‘What? Why? Ouch.’ K was yanking her hair; it wouldn’t stay put.

‘Because they pulled out of the deal. He’s very upset. Ah, there.’

Phew, the makeover was over. ‘What deal?’ All sorts of scenarios raced through Mary’s head, most of them court-related and ending in a lengthy prison sentence.

‘You haven’t heard? The graphic novel – the publisher pulled out of the contract. Difference in value base; something about a code of conduct.’

She felt sick. Eighty K, most of which she’d spent in her head, no longer. Roddie had worked for years on spec, i.e., unpaid, and thought he’d finally made it.

He’d be counting in fives for the rest of his life.

And she wouldn’t be able to leave work, she’d have to go back to that place till she was sixty-eight and had one polyp per disappointment. So selfish to think about herself.

‘What value base?’ she asked.