The Yacht Party (Lara Stone)

‘So I have some good news,’ said Darius. ‘Charlie has signed off on reinstating the investigations team. We had to talk Nicholas round but I made him see sense.’

Yeah, right, thought Lara.

‘Obviously, I’ve got to make cuts elsewhere, but I thought you should be the first to know as you will be coming back as head of department.’

He paused, evidently waiting for applause and whooping. When none came, he ploughed on. ‘We really need to capitalise on this splash – the Meyer story’s going to be big and I’m in talks with your friend Ortega about collaborating more closely with Le Caché. This thing is going to be huge.’

Lara couldn’t help smiling. ‘So you’re saying serious news is the new celebrity gossip right?’

Darius pointed a finger at her. ‘Exactly.’

Just as Lara could see the editor’s personality laid out in the interior design of his office, she could also see his mind working. Darius liked the idea of the Investigations team returning because of the reflected glory and the credit he could take for the scoops. He had always loved the idea of himself as a political hotshot, a news heavyweight who might be able to sidestep into TV punditry or John Pilger-style analysis. Sir Darius Allen; that would be his ultimate goal.

‘So we’ll want you back as soon as possible, Lara,’ he smiled. ‘How does tomorrow sound?’

Lara paused for a moment. She knew she had to keep her resolve, but this was tough. She thought of Stella who would give her right arm to be back on the beat and she thought of Sandrine who lived – and died – for the newsroom.

‘I’m not coming back,’ said Lara, trying to keep her voice steady.

Darius looked at her incredulously.

‘What? You’re kidding, right?’

‘No Darius, I’m not.’

Darius began to splutter, falling over his words. It just did not compute for him.

‘But why? Do you know how hard I had to push for this?’ His eyes opened wide. ‘Hang on, you’re not going to some digital fucking start-up, are you?’

Lara had to suppress a smile.

‘No, not digital. In fact, I’d like to stay at the Chronicle if you’ll have me, just not full-time.’

Darius sighed deeply, theatrically, spinning his chair to face the window, the picture of a man deep in thought.

‘Darius, please,’ she said, trying to get him to understand.

‘I love the research, I love the reporting part of the job. But being a department head? Being tied to my desk, sending other people out to do the work I love doing? It’s just not me, it never was – and having a break from the job made me realise that.

‘So what do you want?’ he said sceptically.

‘I want a roving role. Investigations editor-at-large, something like that. You must know that the old team has grown beyond me anyway. Stella Harris is definitely ready to step up to full-time reporter, she did some amazing work on this one.’

He could hardly disagree with that; at Lara’s insistence, Alex had given Stella an ‘additional reporting by’ credit on the story.

‘Still, Nicholas isn’t going to like this,’ said Darius.

Lara smiled.

‘I think he’ll be glad to see the back of me. Darius, I’m better out in the field. I’ve brought in two stories in the past fortnight and I was on sabbatical.’

She stood up.

‘Imagine what I could do when I really get going.’

It was seven o’clock and Eduardo was sitting in The Mermaid, staring down into his pint. Eduardo was wearing a crisp blue shirt, a wafer-thin gold watch and expensive loafers. Lara thought it was a bit like spotting the Queen in the local chip shop. Eduardo hadn’t exactly looked relaxed in Monaco either, but this part of SW1 was definitely out of his comfort zone.

He looked up from his phone and smiled at Lara.