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Jem turned to Ellie with a sweet smile. “What?” she asked. Ellie’s cheeks were pink and for a second, Jem forgot what she was trying to do and wondered if she should ask the woman back to her place.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ellie said, voice low and angry.

“Making sure we get what we need,” said Jem lightly.

“I suggest you remember who you’re working for,” Ellie said. “I’m the leader of this project.”

Jem smiled again, equally sweetly. “And I suggest that you remember who you’re working for,” she said. “I’m the boss’s daughter, remember?”

She took one long second to look Ellie up and down and then turned on her heel and stalked out of the hotel.

Chapter Twelve

Ellie walked back to the office, the rhythm of her shoes on the ground keeping her breathing. She tried so hard not to think, not to consider what had just happened. Every time a stray thought snuck in she counted her footsteps, anything to stop her losing herself on the street.

But as soon as she opened the office door she gave in to the inevitable. The band around her chest started to squeeze, the air didn’t seem to fill her lungs enough. She collapsed into her chair. What had she gotten herself into?

Jem was a saboteur, she’d deliberately ruined what could have been the perfect location for the party. And why? For no reason at all that Ellie could fathom. Her breath caught in her throat, her head started to swim. Somewhere on the edges of her consciousness she could hear voices by the door and she just hoped that it was Mo and Carys.

“Jesus,” Carys said.

“Get a glass of water,” said Mo. They crouched down in front of Ellie and took both her hands in their own. “Breathe with me, El.”

“Here,” Carys said, putting water on the desk. “Should I call the ambulance?”

“Not yet,” Mo said. They were counting softly to Ellie, controlling her breathing.

Ellie could hear them, could see them, but couldn’t respond,not yet. She was too busy trying not to die.

“Okay, okay,” said Mo. “We’ve got this. Slowly, deeply, keep counting, you’re fine.” They picked up the glass of water and tilted it to her lips. “Just a sip. There we go.”

“It’s alright,” said Ellie, the panicking subsiding. “It’s okay. I’ve got it.” She took the water from them with shaky hands. “I’ve got it.”

“Where d’you learn to do something like that?” Carys said, looking at Mo with wide eyes.

They shrugged. “Had a boyfriend once who had panic attacks. It’s not the end of the world.” They looked at Ellie. “I didn’t know you had them though. Have you got meds somewhere?”

Ellie shook her head.

“Hmm. Want me to fill your prescription?”

“I haven’t got one,” Ellie said, struggling to sit more upright. “I, uh, this is sort of a new thing.”

Mo perched on one corner of her desk and Carys on the other. “What happened?” asked Carys.

Ellie groaned. “I don’t know if I can talk about it.”

“You should,” Mo said with authority. “Naming the beast makes it less scary.”

“It’s Jem.”

“Jem?” Mo asked.

“Jemima Darlington,” sighed Ellie. And she told them about her morning.

“Jesus,” Carys said when she was done. “What are we supposed to do about that?” Ellie noticed the use of we and it made her smile a little.

“We should fire her,” Mo said firmly.