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it.’
    â€˜Lorraine, her links to Australia are tenuous, a father she never knew, and possibly won’t like if she does meet him. He did abandon her, after all. But there is still a connection with a country that she knows nothing about. It’s only natural that she’s curious. Let her work it out of her system,’ said Nina.
    As she uttered the cliché, a deep illumination flashed through Nina’s mind. Suddenly Nina saw the need behind her goddaughter’s drive to find her roots. It was an insight into her own need, which shook her soul, but she pushed it to one side as she sought to calm her distressed, now ex-editor.
    â€˜I worry about Miche. Nina, I don’t want her to be like Ali.’
    Nina had fumbled for the right words to say. She didn’t want to be disloyal to a senior member of staff, but Lorraine was a personal friend, Miche was her goddaughter. ‘Lorraine, Ali doesn’t always handle situations as sensitively as she could, she’s so ambitious, but she has a right to chase her own dreams.’
    â€˜I know Miche has to find her own way, but she doesn’t understand my needs, especially right now.’ Lorraine gulped her drink. ‘What’s going to become of me, Nina?’
    â€˜You have to pull yourself through this, Lorraine. You don’t have a lot of choice and you have to stop holding on to Miche and let her go.’
    Lorraine was terse. ‘You may be the boss, Nina, and I can’t fight the board, but none of you really knows what I’m dealing with.’ Her voice was strained and it seemed to Nina she sounded irrational. It was the whisky talking again.
    Nina rose. ‘Lorraine, sleep on it. Let’s talk again.’ There was no criticism, no judgement in her voice. Just the concerned tones of a friend, who also had other issues to deal with.
    Lorraine had waved an arm. ‘Forget it, pal. I’ll pull my act together.’ She attempted a wan smile. ‘If you can’t dump on friends, who can you . . . ?’
    Nina fumbled with the clasp on her necklace. She couldn’t stop imagining what Lorraine must have felt in those moments of stepping off the balcony and through the dark door of death.
    There had been frantic phone calls to try to control the media coverage so the details would be confined as much as possible to Triton’s morning paper, the New York Gazette. At least that way it would cause the least damage.
    Bud Stein, after catching the lift upstairs to Nina’s private apartments, arrived exasperated. ‘Nina, how do we downplay this? The other papers and radio and TV are going to beat it up once they know it was suicide.’ He’d listened to Nina’s rapid suggestion of how she wanted the New York Gazette to report the incident and sighed, ‘Okay, Nina, we’ll try. Yes, we’ll talk about how successful she was. Yes, we’ll use a nice photo. No, we won’t mention she might have been drinking. No, we won’t mention the daughter. So, can you give us a brief statement, at least?’
    The Baron had called her as soon as he’d heard. ‘Nina, dearest, this is terrible. So very sad. Please, I know you’re probably blaming yourself, but . . .’
    â€˜I do blame myself, Oscar. I knew she was unhappy, and obviously removing her from the editor’s position was the final straw. Oh, that poor child. Poor Miche.’
    â€˜Nina, I don’t wish to seem insensitive, but . . . this evening . . . you must be there. It is for you, and people have come from around the globe to share it. It’s too late to cancel. The guests will already be on their way here. Be strong, my dear. We must go through with the dinner.’
    Nina had taken a deep breath. ‘I understand. I’ve asked that the news be kept as quiet as possible until the morning. The police are cooperating and not releasing any but the most basic details until