Nobody said anything for a long time.

Graham was reading the papers. His hands were shaking.

“Olivia,” he said. “Is this true?”

Olivia looked at him. Then at me. Then at the eighty faces staring at her.

And something in her just broke.

“Do you know what it's like,” she said, her voice cracking, “to walk into every room and have people think you only got there because of who you know? Because of my father? Because you're my godfather?”

She pointed at me.

“And then she comes along. From reception. From the post room. And everybody loves her. Everybody says she's the real thing. She doesn't even need slides!”

She was crying now.

“I just wanted one thing that I'd won by myself,” she said.

“You didn't win it by yourself,” said Graham quietly. “You tried to win it by destroying someone else's work.”

He put the papers down.

“The Creative Director announcement is cancelled,” he said. “Olivia, please wait in my office. Everyone else, please go back to your desks.”

Nobody moved for a moment.

Then, very slowly, Sophie started clapping. For Kevin.

The whole room joined in.

Kevin went bright red, picked up a slice of the Digestive cake, and went back down to the basement.