Free The Cinderella Reflex by Johanna Buchanan Page B

my parents – they always listen in on the internet. And my sister Verity – she lives in London.”
    “So what else can you tell me about the station?”
    “It’s tiny. But maybe for not much longer,” Tess added mysteriously.
    “Why?” Now he really was curious! Hah – she was reeling him in! But just in time Tess remembered Helene’s dire warnings about not spreading rumours and she pursed her lips. “I can’t really say any more. Sorry.”
    “Okay. So what if I want to help you out? How do we do it?”
    Tess felt a wave of elation. He was interested! She sat back and breathed a long sigh of relief. “It would be fantastic! This is my plan. You tell me what your problem is, I go away and research all I can about it – see what a real professional might have to say about it. And then when you ring me on-air on Monday,” she added rapidly before he could change his mind, “I’ll have the answer all ready for you!”
    He leaned back in his chair, contemplating his scuffed, tan cowboy boots. “Help me with something I don’t understand first. You have a new slot on a tiny flop of a station with no listeners – why are you so worried about it that you’re asking perfect strangers to ring in with their problems?”
    “Because I don’t want to make a show of myself, calling on-air for listeners to ring in, and then if nobody does, having to watch Ollie Andrews – the presenter – smirking into my face. And Helene Harper getting on my case afterwards. If you ring I’ll have a safety net – plus it will encourage other people to ring. That often happens,” she added helpfully, “when people hear other people talking about something on the radio, they ring in too.”
    Tess stopped, catching his expression. “You think only crazy people with nothing else to do ring in to radio stations don’t you? Maybe you’re right.” Her earlier elation had started to evaporate now.
    “Maybe.” He shrugged and shoved a hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out a biro. “What telephone number do I ring?”
    “You’re going to do it? Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! So – the show is called This Morning with—”
    “This Morning with Ollie Andrews? Cos that’s the presenter’s name?”
    “Right,” Tess reeled off the telephone number and watched as he scribbled it down on a used brown envelope he had pulled out of his other pocket. He seemed pleased with himself.
    “I’m getting the hang of this.”
    “You are. But you need to listen to the programme for a while first so it sounds natural when you get put on-air,” Tess explained.
    “And is the show recorded or does it go out live?”
    “It’s live. So – tell me what your problem is?” Tess pulled out her own pen and notebook so she could take his details. She hoped it wouldn’t be too difficult to work out how to answer it. But she could worry about that later. At least it was a real problem! This was the break she’d been praying for.
    “Well ... I have a little condition to my participation in the programme.”
    “What condition?” Tess asked carefully. It was starting to go wrong again.
    “I don’t want to tell you what the problem is in advance of the show.”
    “But that’s the whole point!” Tess burst out. Then she stopped. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. She didn’t know the first thing about this guy, after all. And she had thought it was weird from the start: a bloke coming to a fortune teller on his own. She wiped a damp hand on her skirt.
    “I think it would be better if you were to ad-lib the answer. That’s what people want to hear – what your take is on the problem, not some second-hand regurgitation of what a professional might say. Your own opinion would make for much better radio.”
    “And you know this – how exactly?” Disappointment made Tess sound more belligerent than she intended. But people were always thinking they knew what made better radio when in reality they didn’t have a