Perfect Strangers

hopeful. Five years ago he’s in London on a business trip and he gets caught with some racy blonde in Chelsea. He pulls out of the governorship race. Are you noticing a pattern?’

She could feel the eyes of her colleagues on her; she knew they were intrigued, but it was Jim who counted. Everything had to go through Jim, and right now her superior didn’t look impressed.

‘So some high-profile men got caught with their pants down.’ He shrugged. ‘It happens. I could add dozens more mug shots to your collection if I had enough time.’

‘Yes, but it’s the background of the girls that I’m interested in. The Danson scandal was one of the first stories I covered when I came to London, so I pulled out my notes and looked.’

She flipped her notebook open and pushed it into the middle of the table.

‘The girl involved in that story was also from Chesterfield. In fact, all three girls, Seb Watson’s hooker, the German guy’s and Danson’s, all came from Chesterfield, and they are all roughly the same age.’

‘So what does that mean?’ asked Rebecca.

‘It means I’m off to Chesterfield if that’s where all the racy birds are from,’ chuckled Karl.

Ruth ignored him.

‘It means that these girls know each other. I bet you a hundred bucks they are old friends. Maybe went to school together. I haven’t had time to look into it just yet, but—’

‘And the story with interest and significance to a US audience is . . .?’ asked Jim.

‘We have a US candidate for governor who’s had his career destroyed, Jim. If I can just have a little time to join the dots . . .’

Jim pulled a face and shook his head.

‘It’s too thin, Ruth,’ he said briskly. ‘We can’t waste time on maybes at this point.’ He stood up, putting his desk diary under his arm. ‘And that goes for the rest of you too. I want more than this; bigger stories, stronger leads. We need to do better, much better, yes?’

The team mumbled assent without much enthusiasm and Ruth watched him walk out of the meeting room, her stomach knotted in anger. She couldn’t believe he would turn down a story with such potential just because he wanted to undermine her chances of getting the bureau job. She quickly gathered her cuttings and followed him to his office.

‘Can I have a word?’ she said, knocking on the door frame.

‘What?’ he asked impatiently.

Ruth closed the door.

‘What’s really wrong with the escort story?’

Jim shrugged. ‘Nothing. I just think it’s too spurious to waste a week on. Need I remind you that this bureau may not exist in September? We need to generate something pretty good and pretty damn fast to even have a chance of stopping that from happening.’

‘Exactly,’ said Ruth. ‘This is the sort of story the mother ship wants. Exclusives, scoops, not rehashed press conferences or interviews that any stringer could bring in.’

‘And what scoop are you picturing here, Ruth? A picture of three trophy blondes in their school uniforms?’

She took a breath. Don’t rise to it, Ruth, she told herself.

‘Look, I think these girls were honeytraps. I always felt that about Danson’s girl. Say they all knew each other, say they were recruited by some Mr Big – some go-to man for help setting honeytraps for influential men – that’s dynamite. It’s a global news story, especially as one of the players was a potential governor.’

‘Danson? He’s old news, years old. He’s not even in public life any more.’

‘He would have been a good governor, Jim,’ she said feeling the words come out of her mouth too quickly. ‘If he was the victim of a sting, that is still going to cause one hell of a fuss.’

Jim levelled his gaze.

‘It’s a no, Ruth. I want you to work on an Angela Ahrendts profile in time for London Fashion Week.’

‘Oh come on, Jim!’ said Ruth, throwing her hands up. ‘Let Rebecca do that. She loves fashion. I don’t know a Burberry tote from a Walmart carrier bag.’

‘I’m not sending a twenty-seven-year-old to interview the hottest American CEO in London. This is a good story for you.’