“The newsroom made do with the layout, with desks haphazardly abutting the walls of a series of increasingly narrow corridors. They ended at the point where two desks could fit with just enough space for a person turned sideways. The terminus was a wooden door with two opaque glass panels and an open transom through which I supposed journalistic hopefuls could throw their screeds. But I wouldn’t envy any transom-thrower at the moment, as the editor in chief himself was engaged in a loud argument... to which the entire office seemed to be paying studious attention. I looked around and caught the eye of the newsman at the desk closest to the door. He had his reporter’s notebook open before him, but didn’t appear to be looking at it. “Hello,” I half-whispered. “You want the chief, this isn’t a good time.” “Lily Harding, actually.” He leaned back in his chair and nodded his head at the door. “I’d give it another ten minutes,” he said. Oh dear. It didn’t sound like things were going well in there.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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