‘No kidding! If you use him the ratings will go through the roof. Every country will want to buy the programme. You’ll have a great reputation.’

‘Some people think I already have a reputation,’ Della said in mock offence.

‘Not like the one you’ll have if he’s working for you.’

‘So you think I should hire him to make my name for me? Thanks a lot, but I don’t need help from him or any other pretty boy getting through life on his charm.’

‘You don’t know that he’s char-’

‘Just look at the time! You should be going home.’

Jackie departed, but not without one final lingering look at the computer screen.

‘Behave yourself,’ Della commanded, laughing. ‘He’s not that gorgeous.’

‘Oh, yes, he is,’ Jackie sighed as she retreated and closed the door.

For Della there was no journey to and from work, as she ran her business from her own home-a houseboat moored on the Thames, near Chelsea. She treasured it, not only for its own sake, but also as a symbol of the distance she’d travelled since the day she’d started out with almost nothing.

Now that it was six o’clock her working day hadn’t ended, merely moved into a new phase-making calls to the other side of the world in different time zones. She kicked off her shoes and settled down.

Carlo Rinucci’s face was still on the screen, but she refused to allow him to distract her. She reached out for the mouse, ready to click him into cyberspace, but her hand paused of its own accord.

Right from the start she’d insisted that the presenter for her series about places of great historical events must be someone with an impressive academic name.

‘I don’t want a handsome talking head who’s going to reveal himself as a dumb cluck the minute he doesn’t have a script,’ she’d said. ‘In fact, I’ll expect him to write a lot of the script.’

She’d reviewed a host of possibilities, both male and female, all serious people with impressive reputations. One woman had aroused great hopes, but in the audition she became pompous. One man had seemed a real possibility-in his forties, elegant, serious, yet attractively suave-until he stood in front of a camera and became tongue-tied.