Construct a Couple by Talli Roland

minutes as I scrawl notes. When I have all the information I need, I tell Ryan we’ll be in touch again today or tomorrow, and hang up. Pushing back from the table, my heart flips in my chest like a fish out of water.
    I’ve done it. Forget adding a couple quotes here and there – I’ve found a story! I can see the headline now: Corrupt Construction Company Cheats Britain’s Elderly . If we get photos of those old people living in dilapidated conditions, this article will tug the nation’s heartstrings, for sure. It’s not an exposé on a famous footballer, but it’s still pretty great.
    I glance through my notebook, reviewing the quotes from Julia, the other clients, and all the incriminating details at Rose House. Yes, I’ve got enough here now to talk to Jonas. Wiping sweaty palms on my trousers, I stride to his office, taking deep breaths to calm my excitement. Will he ask me to visit the site? Maybe interview some of the residents, too? I’m really good with old people! Well, as long as they have all their own teeth – the clicking of dentures freaks me out.
    I rap on the half-open door, so hard my knuckles smart.
    “Yes?” Jonas barks, jowls jiggling as he lifts his head. God, he looks like that nodding Churchill dog in the TV ads.
    “Can I talk to you about the Top Class Construction feature?” I make my voice smooth and confident.
    He beckons me in. “You’ve got one minute. Remember, you need to have that piece to Gregor by five at the latest.”
    “Well.” I clear my throat, flipping open the notebook. “The angle of the original story was Top Class bucking the market trend, growing at a phenomenal rate. But through additional research, I’ve uncovered an angle with much more impact.” I watch Jonas’s face for a response, but he isn’t wearing the intrigued expression I’d anticipated. Instead, he just looks . . . bored.
    He makes an impatient noise. “Come on. Spit it out.”
    I quickly explain Top Class’s negligence at Rose House and how, despite repeated phone calls, they still haven’t fixed the problem. Jonas’s log-like tongue protrudes to lick his lips, as if he’s savouring my words.  
    “Well, well,” he says, when I come to the end of my notes. “That is an interesting angle. And you managed to find it your first week here? Good work, Serenity.”
    My heart leaps. I knew he’d agree! Maybe a modern-day Lois Lane isn’t such a long shot. I smile brightly, awaiting further instructions.
     “Who is the reporter on the original piece?” Jonas asks.
    “Helen Goodall.” Wow, maybe we’ll even conduct an interview together!
     “Okay. Send her all your notes and she’ll run with it from here. We need a senior reporter to verify everything – we can’t take any chances with these allegations.”
    What? My mouth drops open. Forget co-interviews or visiting the site, I’m not even going to be involved?
    Guess I can kiss that by-line goodbye.
    “Don’t worry,” Jonas says, catching the look on my face. “You’ll still work on the piece, assisting Helen with background information. She’s out on an interview this afternoon, so we’ll meet first thing tomorrow to review your notes and sources. I’m extending the deadline on this to get as much information as we can.” He motions towards the door, and I trudge out.
    Remember, slow and steady, I repeat to myself, trying to swallow back the disappointment. It’s only my first week, after all. Okay, so I’m not interviewing alongside Helen with my name up in lights, but at least I’m making progress – unlike poor Gregor who’d be lucky if he uncovered a fresh handkerchief, let alone a news story.
    And tomorrow I’m going to meet Helen! Hmm, I wonder what I should wear? Kirsty’s always telling me if I want to be taken seriously, I need to dress for it. That’s easy for her to say – at five foot nine, clothes just fit. It’s slightly harder when your legs are stumps yet your behind rivals J Lo’s. Any