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when Stella was present, of course, in which case everyone was very quiet unless asked to speak.
    It was ominously silent when Allegra collapsed against the reception desk, a funkily curved piece of steel, and held her hand against her side.
    ‘The editorial meeting’s just started,’ Lulu, the receptionist, lowered her voice and eyed Allegra with sympathy. ‘You know Stella hates it when anyone is late. You’d better pretend you fell under a bus or something.’
    ‘I might as well if I don’t get in there and get my assignment,’ groaned Allegra, forcing herself upright.
    Smoothing down her hair, she took a deep breath and headed towards the conference room, only to be called back by Lulu’s frantic whisper.
    ‘You can’t go in like that!’ She pointed at Allegra’s legs. ‘Tights!’
    Allegra clutched her head. She’d forgotten her tights for a moment. She’d soon learnt to keep a spare pair in her bag, but changing them would take precious seconds.
    ‘What’s worse?’ she asked Lulu desperately. ‘Being late or laddered tights?’ Lulu’s astounded expression was answer enough. Clearly, Allegra shouldn’t have needed to ask. ‘You’re right, I’d better change...’
    It was Allegra’s second mistake of the day. Dashing into the loos, she found Hermione, one of the marketing interns, sobbing her heart out in a cubicle, and by the time Allegra had coaxed her out and listened to her tale of woe, she was not only horribly late but had acquired two mascara smudges on the pale cashmere jumper tucked so stylishly into her skirt.
    That was what you got for dispensing comforting hugs, thought Allegra bitterly as she stripped off her tights, but she was in such a hurry to get the new ones on that she managed to stick a finger through them.
    ‘Oh, sod it!’ At least this time the ladder was hidden under her skirt. Bundling the first pair into the bin, Allegra swiped at her hair. She looked completely manic, but there was nothing she could do about it now. If she didn’t get into that editorial meeting, she’d lose out on the assignment. Ianthe Burrows was probably already putting forward an alternative.
    ‘Sorry,’ she mouthed generally, sliding into the conference room at last and every head swivelled to stare at her, with her flushed cheeks and tousled hair. There was a resounding silence. Stella didn’t say anything but her gaze rested for a crushing few seconds on the smudges before dropping to Allegra’s knees as she stood frozen just inside the room.
    Against her will, Allegra found herself following her editor’s gaze to where the ladder had snaked out from under her skirt. Horrified, she watched it unravel over her knee and head down her leg. She could practically hear the unzipping sound.
    Why was there never a black hole around when you needed to jump into one?
    ‘Editorial meetings start at ten,’ said Stella, and Allegra cringed at the lack of inflexion in her voice.
    ‘Yes, I know...I—’ She broke off. She couldn’t explain about Derek and Mrs Gosling and Hermione. Stella wouldn’t care and Allegra would sound like an idiot. Even more of an idiot. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said instead.
    A fractional incline of Stella’s head served as her dismissal. The conversation returned to the latest couture debut, and Allegra slunk into a chair at the back. Pulling out notebook, pen, iPad and PDA, she willed the burning colour in her face to fade.
    Fortunately, she didn’t appear to have missed too much and as the discussion warmed up into articles about how to give a rock’n’roll twist to the latest looks, and the pros and cons of being friends-with-benefits, she kept her head down and let her racing pulse slow. Mindlessly doodling Derek winding Mrs Gosling up in his lead, she listened to the arguments for and against sleeping with a friend. It wasn’t something she would do herself. She’d be afraid that it would spoil the friendship. Because how could it possibly be the same