Career Girls Read Online Free PDF

amicably. Peter ran with them, carrying Rowena above him, his hands holding her thighs in an iron grip, ignoring her protests. Her weight was evidently nothing to him.
    Rowena, startled, cheered and shouted with the rest. It was too much fun. Besides which, she couldn’t help but think, every single person here could see her getting into it, supporting her college - she’d be kind of hard to miss, with her fair hair streaming out behind her like a banner, piggybacking on top of Peter Kennedy.
    There was a cry of triumph as Christ Church inexorably
     
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    rammed into the tail of the Oriel boat.
    ‘Bumped!’ Peter yelled. He reached up and swung Rowena gracefully down from his back with one hand.
    She touched her feet to the ground, smoothing down her
    dress, suddenly embarrassed, wondering what to say. ‘We win again,’ he said. ‘Thanks, Peter,’ she muttered.
    He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it, casually. ‘That was fun. Let’s do it again some time,’ he suggested.
    Rowena Gordon blushed bright red, nodded as coldly as she could, and walked offdown the path.
     
    Cherwell was buzzing.
    It was two weeks to the Union elections, and it looked like they were going to be close. Every college was being hacked full-throttle by eager candidates from the opposing slates. Each new day brought a fresh crop of rumour, treachery anti malicious gossip; Tori had defected, Joss wasn’t pulling his weight, rival candidates were still sleeping with each other … Topaz loved it. It was an editor’s dream.
    Of course, the biggest rumour of all was that Peter Kennedy and Rowena Gordon were on the verge of doing a deal. If that happened, all bets were off. Rowena would be home free, the first woman President of the Union for five years. Gilbert Docker needed Peter to survive.
    Whenever Rowena or Gilbert went round to Peter, the news trickled back to Cherwell. Mostly Topaz didn’t report it. She wanted to throw as much weight as she could behind her best friend, and she concentrated on articles about Gilbert’s sexism or the bully-boy tctics, of his followers. God only knew they made the best reading; one of her writers at St Anne’s had come in just that morning with a story of how Gilbert’s Secretary candidate, a popular Scottish guy reading law, had stuck a ten-inch carving knife into the door of his female opponent on Rowena’s slate. Topaz had been ecstatic; the story was dynamite. She’d lead this Friday’s edition on it.
     
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    The only thing she would not do was interfere personally. Rowena had asked her to take over with Peter three times this week, but Topaz always turned her down flat. She knew what the Presidency meant to Rowena, but evenso, she couldn’t risk her boyfriend over it.
    ‘Have you seen my layout for the jobs pages?’ Rupert asked, weaving in between their rickety photocopiers with a full cup of coffee. ‘I’m sure I left it on top of my desk… ‘
    Topaz shook her head, preoccupied with the carving knife. College authorities had pulled it out of Lisa’s door, and she was wondering if she could get away with sticking a similar knife in the door and taking a photo of that.
    ‘You’re bloody useless, Rupe,’ Gareth Kelly said. ‘We had two thousand quids’ worth of advertising from McKinsey in that.’
    I’ll find it, OK?’ promised her deputy editor, sounding harassed. Rupert was scatty and untidy, but a great journalist. Topaz could see that clearly. Even on a college paper he had a knack for ferreting out the real stories: single-parent students, harassing tutors, tkupe had been the first to congratulate her on her Times commission. He was the only person on the staffwho realized it meant more than a Łx5o cheque.
    ‘Here.it is,’ shouted Jane Edwards, the features editor. Rupert leaned gratefully across and grabbed it, answering the phone at the same time and slopping coffee all over his desk.
    ‘Cherwell. Yeah. Who should I say is calling?’
    He handed the