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instead.
    “Not joining her ladyship?” Tim asked, raising an eyebrow.
    Jen took a gulp of champagne. “Sometimes she seems to think I’m about twelve,” she said with a little smile. “If I go over there I’m worried she might start telling everyone how well I did in my A Levels or something. . . .”
    Tim called over a waiter who was proffering little sausages and blinis, and grabbed a couple of each, wolfing them down in two seconds.
    “Wish you hadn’t come to work for her, then?” he asked conversationally.
    Jen thought for a moment. “Dunno, really. I knew it wouldn’t be ideal, but it was nice to have somewhere to go.”
    Tim nodded. “Well, if you do get a moment with her, let her know that she’s got some cash flow issues, will you? I’ve tried e-mailing, but I think she sees my name and deletes them straightaway.”
    Jen grinned. “I’m sure it’s not that bad, is it?”
    Tim raised his eyebrows. “Your mother,” he said, pausing to take a swig of champagne, “is the world’s best networker, the world’s best saleswoman, and a bloody great storyteller. But when it comes to figures . . . Well, anyway, you just tell her she needs to sit down with me so I can walk her through it, will you?”
    Jen nodded, frowning slightly, as Tim wandered off in search of more food, then started as a gong sounded and everyone was asked to take their seats. She nipped over to the seating plan and her heart sank slightly when she saw that she was sitting between Paul Song and Geoffrey, one of the Green Futures consultants, who was known as “Beardy Weirdy” by everyone in the office.
    “That’s a very nice dress,” Geoffrey said brightly as she sat down. “My mother’s got one just the same.”
    Jen smiled thinly. Somehow, she thought to herself, this was going to be a very long night.
    “So then I asked them whether they’d considered recruitment in the region. And do you know what they said?”
    Jen noticed Geoffrey had stopped talking and realized that he must have asked her a question. She smiled, hoping that he’d carry on talking. This dinner had been an absolute joke and she was angry at herself for being suckered in to it. She wasn’t going to find anything out about Bell, or Axiom, or anything else of any interest. Plus she felt like a frump in her dress, and was feeling bad that vanity had become so important to her. It shouldn’t matter what she looked like, she knew that. But somehow, it just did.
    “Well, do you?”
    Shit. What was the question, Jen wondered desperately. She searched through her head, trying to recall what on earth Geoffrey had been droning on about for the past two hours, or however long it had taken them to get through three long courses.
    “I bet you’re going to tell me,” she said eventually and was relieved to see a satisfied smile appear on his face.
    “They said no!” he said triumphantly. “And just like that, they realized where they’d been going wrong. They couldn’t thank me enough after that, of course, but I said to them ‘don’t thank me, thank yourselves for having the foresight for—’ ”
    “You know, I’m just going to . . . get a drink,” Jen interrupted with a little smile. “Can I . . . um . . . get you anything?”
    Geoffrey shook his head. “Don’t want to drink too much on a school night!” he said conspiratorially.
    “It’s Friday,” Jen pointed out.
    “Even so . . .”
    Jen shrugged and wandered over to the bar, relieved to escape from his incessant talking. He wasn’t a bad person, she knew that. And actually, she kind of liked him in a deep down sort of way. So long as he wasn’t in the same room as her for too long.
    “Vodka tonic, please,” she said as a barman rounded on her. Then, drink in hand, she perched on a seat and turned around to look at the rest of the diners. There were about twenty tables, each with twelve people on it, which made . . . Jen frowned as she did a quick calculation . . . 240 people. And