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for something to do, seeking out any task or errand which needed her attention. But when she saw her boss her features saddened.
    ‘You saw the paper then,’ she said, bowing her head slightly in respect for the deceased.
    ‘Yes, thank you for bringing that to my attention.’ Charles tried to appear composed but inside he was starting to fall apart.
    Faye Smith had worked for Charles Lloyd since he had first begun his political campaign. She had helped him progress to his current position and felt that she knew him well. She saw now that he was in pain, which was what she had expected would happen.
    ‘I’ve arranged for flowers to be sent to the family.’ she told him gently.
    ‘Thank you.’
    Charles suddenly wished that he was a nobody. That way he could attend Lorna’s funeral and no one would care, his attendance would go unnoticed. But being somebody meant that if he went there, he would cause a sensation, and detract from the tragic girl within the coffin which would not be his intention at all.
    ‘Would you like another coffee?’ Faye asked. Charles merely shook his head, his eyes downcast, lost in thought.
    Faye hesitated for a moment. She knew what she wanted to say, what Charles needed to hear, she was just unsure if in saying it she crossed a line which she should never stray over as his employee. But she saw his pain, and knew she had to ease it any way she could. Charles Lloyd was a good, kind man, which she knew from first-hand experience. She would not have him feeling any other way.
    ‘It’s not your fault, you know.’
    Charles looked up at his assistant, grateful for her words even if he did not believe them himself.
    ‘The Ambassador has already arrived. Would you like me to stall the meeting?’ The moment between them had passed and Faye had resumed her role as assistant, effortlessly breaking away from counsellor and confidante.
    ‘No, no, I’ll be fine,’ Charles said, knowing that, outwardly at least, he would be presentable for his meeting.
    ‘Alright then.’ Faye removed herself from the office, wondering if she had made the right decision in placing the newspaper on his desk. Perhaps she could have softened the blow for him, but then she had no idea of protocol in these sorts of situations.
    Charles closed the copy of
The Shadow
, sealing away the news of Lorna’s death. It pained him to see how little the media cared, the pittance of a piece she had been given. If they knew the truth, her suicide would have been sensationalized, so perhaps it was best that to them she was still a nobody. Now, only he and Faye knew the truth; that for six months, Lorna Thomas had been having an affair with the Deputy Prime Minister of England.

Chapter Two
    An affair to remember
    The day flew by in a blur of insincere handshakes with intermissions of coffee. Charles felt like a zombie as he attended his morning meetings, going through the motions but feeling detached from the events which were unfolding before him. He was grateful when he bid the American delegates goodbye and could retreat back to the comforting solitude of his office.
    As promised, Faye had cancelled all his meetings that afternoon, leaving him with time, which Charles had discovered to be the most precious commodity. He wanted to sit in his antiquated bat cave and think of Lorna, but he didn’t dare to. To remember her there would make the pain too fresh, too raw. He would wait until he was home alone, choosing to spend the remainder of the day trawling through the mountain of emails which had built up for him since that morning.
    Charles sat and hammered away at his keyboard, hoping that keeping up with his correspondence would help dull the throb of despair which was pulsating at the back of his mind. But with each word he typed he sank further into a mire of misery. He wanted to go home but he knew he could not face Elaine. He had no choice but to wait until a later hour when she would be at the gala event. It was either