Tracy Buchanan - No Turning Back - The can’t-put-it-down thriller of the year

Caller C: ‘It’s out of our control with all these immigrants flooding into the country!’ (Dawn, 37)

The screen blurred in front of Anna’s eyes. She put her hands to her face briefly, the smell of her little girl still on her palms: the sweet scent of baby lotion and that indescribable Joni smell . It brought with it the sight of her baby’s smile, flowering first in her brown eyes before spreading to those cherub cheeks and pink lips. Anna felt her whole being ache to be with her. She was only two hours into her first day back at work after eight months of maternity leave and she was already desperate to be back with her daughter.

‘Thoughts, Anna?’ She looked up to see Heather, her new producer, giving her a stern look through the glass window dividing them. Anna quickly took a gulp of her coffee, caffeine’s magic taking effect. The memory of Joni’s smile faded away, her scent replaced by the tart smell of coffee beans.

She leaned forward and pressed one of the buttons on her microphone. ‘Let’s take caller C out,’ she said.

Heather frowned. ‘I’m not sure that’s wise. In the months you’ve been away we’ve found immigration calls go down well with the public, really puts fire into their bellies.’

‘I’ve found in the past seven years I’ve been presenting the show, it’s best to keep the focus tight. This phone-in isn’t about immigration, it’s about the success or failure of the government’s fight against drug abuse.’

‘I understand what you’re saying,’ Heather said, tucking a wisp of black hair behind her ear that had dared escape her trademark tight bun. ‘But I’d like to keep it in. I was a senior news reporter at Radio 4, remember, Anna? An investigation I did on this very subject won me an award. I have an instinct about these things.’

Anna suppressed her irritation. Every opportunity Heather could get, she’d bring up her investigative reporter days. The two women held each other’s gazes. Heather had been appointed as Anna’s new producer after the station’s much-loved producer had retired a few months before Anna went on maternity leave. From the moment she’d started, Heather had got people’s backs up, challenging everything Anna said, making it clear to everyone she wouldn’t pander to the presenters. Some of the admin girls had told Anna they thought it was because Heather believed that as a woman, she wouldn’t get the respect she deserved unless she played up her aggressive side. Anna wasn’t so sure. To her, Heather was simply what her gran called a ‘real-life dementer’, somebody who sucked the happiness and light out of any encounter.

‘Look, Heather,’ Anna said, unable to stop herself yawning. She’d never felt quite so exhausted. After a spate of sleeping well, Joni had chosen the night before Anna returned to work to wake every hour. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe she was just going through a bad patch. Either way, the timing couldn’t be worse. ‘Things might have been a certain way while I was on maternity leave. But there’s a reason Coast to Coast’s listening figures doubled after I joined.’ Anna cringed inside at the boastful remark. But she had to stand her ground, show Heather she too had made a success of things. She’d watched Coast to Coast grow from a barely known regional station covering just one small area while working out of a debilitated warehouse on the Docks, to a popular south-coast station attracting enough listeners and ad revenue to rent a glossy studio by the sea.

Anna peered out of the large window lining the corridor outside. The studio occupied a sought-after spot next to the village’s seafront shops and cafes, its cocoon-shaped glass-fronted building reflecting the waves in its shiny windows. She’d played a role in securing enough money to pay for this building.

She looked Heather in the eye. ‘The fact is, I’m back now so let’s find a way to get those listening figures back up again.’

Heather bristled. ‘I wouldn’t quite say you’re back , Anna.’

‘What do you mean?’

Heather’s black eyes glistened with spite. ‘You know what I mean, you’re clearly not with it today. Having a baby can take its toll.’

Anna looked at her in shock. ‘What does having a baby have to do with all this?’

‘What I’m trying to say is…well, look at you,’ Heather said, flinging her hand towards Anna. ‘You’re exhausted.’

‘Everyone’s exhausted, Heather! We get here for five in the morning, for God’s sake.’

Anna tried to keep the tremble out of her voice. She didn’t want to give Heather the satisfaction of seeing she’d got to her. But the truth was, she was exhausted and she was worried it would affect her performance. Juggling work and looking after Joni plus everything else that had happened the past few weeks had been difficult.

Her mobile phone buzzed. She took the chance to break Heather’s gaze and look down at her phone. She’d been like this since arriving that morning, any little beep from her phone making her wonder if it was the nursery calling. Even the fact her mother-in-law owned the nursery didn’t stop Anna worrying. To make matters worse, she’d have to turn the phone off when the show went on air. What if there was an emergency? Sure, the nursery had the main switchboard number but it didn’t feel the same.

Anna spent an unhealthy amount of time thinking of emergencies when it came to Joni. Falls, cuts, choking, even accidental strangulation. Her friend Suzanne reassured her that everyone had them. But Anna couldn’t help but wonder if everyone imagined the horrors in quite as much detail as she did.

Anna quickly clicked into her phone, relieved to see it was a text message from her gran.

Knock them dead, darling, you can do it. And remember, drink lots of coffee…and ignore the dementer! x

She smiled to herself, remembering the first time she’d got her gran a mobile phone, five Christmases ago. She’d looked at it in disgust, told Anna if she needed someone she’d walk to their house and talk to them. But now it never left her side and she seemed to have an uncanny knack of messaging Anna just when she needed her most.

Anna quickly typed back a message: Two cups consumed already. See you later. x

Anna looked back up at Heather. ‘I’ve just had a brilliant idea for our next phone-in.’

Heather raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes?’

‘We can ask the question: do new mothers get discriminated against at work?’

Heather’s face flushed and the assistant producer behind Heather suppressed a smirk.

‘I’d take caller C out,’ a voice said from the doorway. Anna peered up to see her co-presenter Nathan. ‘We have a replacement for caller C, right?’ he asked Heather.

Anna smiled to herself as she noticed the brief look of irritation on Heather’s face.

‘I’m not sure we need one, Nathan,’ Heather said. ‘We—’

‘This is about drug legislation, remember, not immigration,’ Nathan said. ‘Keep the focus tight.’

Heather blinked rapidly as Anna’s smile deepened. Nathan gave Anna a quick wink and strode in.

‘Maybe we can replace it with this one?’ Anna said, tapping her keyboard until one of the rejected callers lit up on their screens. ‘Sanjeet talking about how the younger generation pop pills like they’re sweets?’

‘Perfect,’ Nathan said, green eyes smiling as he sat down across from her. ‘Bloody new mums, full of good ideas.’

Anna did a faux eye roll. ‘Sexist bastard.’

Heather turned away from them both, crossing her arms. She didn’t argue with him. Nobody argued with housewives’ favourite, Nathan Wheeler. He’d once worked for a big national radio station but couldn’t bear the commute any more. So three years ago he joined Coast to Coast as it gained in popularity and his presence further cemented the station’s success. Anna and Nathan were the ideal co-presenters.