‘That depends,’ he replied, ‘on whether there’s a disaster between now and then. We are classed as expendable news.’ He answered the puzzled look she sent him. ‘The juicy fill-in to help sell their rags if nothing better comes along—vulgar, isn’t it?’

‘How do you live under such constant notoriety?’ she asked with a small shudder.

‘I don’t—usually,’ he replied, and she shuddered again, in bleak recognition this time that it was her fault that he was having to endure it now.

‘I’m—sorry,’ she whispered.

‘Why should you be sorry?’ he clipped. ‘It wasn’t you who caused this particular sensation, Shaan. It was me.’

‘And Piers,’ she added hollowly.

‘The Danvers brothers, then.’ He nodded, and leaned forward to press a button on the console in front of him which sent the sheet of glass that partitioned them off from their driver sliding downwards. ‘Make sure you lose them before we head for the airport,’ he commanded. ‘They’ve had their floorshow; now they can take a running jump.’

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