Run to the Blue by P N Johnson

Author:P N Johnson [Johnson, P N]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Burning Chair Limited
Published: 2023-04-13T16:00:00+00:00

*

Leaving the taxi, with my wig in place, the sky cleared. I walked through the revolving glass doors at work and smiled at the receptionist. My pass worked. The inner doors opened, and it was good to be back. I walked down into the newsroom, where scores of journalists, producers and other staff beavered away, servicing news bulletins and current affairs programmes around the clock. News is a job that never sleeps, that never stops.

“Hello, stranger.” Steve grinned, looking up.

“Hi, boss, and thanks for the wig,” I whispered. He stood up and hugged me.

“Hey, guys, Tess is back, but only for tonight. Mum’s the word, okay?” I was treated to a round of applause and a stream of handshakes, hugs and pats on the back. I got a bit tearful and used the excuse of needing the loo to rush off.

I dug out the spare clothes from my locker and soon it was as if nothing had changed. I hadn’t worn any makeup in Greece at all and, as I walked into make-up I looked into the mirror. I realised I had a nice tan. Being on Jason’s boat had had a few positives. It felt good as I sat down and let the makeup artist take care of my face. I was beginning to feel like a reporter again. TV’s Tess Anderson had returned. I felt a sudden burst of strength. I could do this; I could really do this. I was safe, surrounded by friends and colleagues. I just hoped no one would attack Jason and Sea Biscuit while I was away. He seemed so vulnerable on that small yacht in such a big sea. I knew it was ridiculous, given that he’d saved me from Crusher Lean, but it felt as if I needed to be there to protect him, rather than the other way round.

Walking back into the newsroom, wearing black work trousers and a white top under a thin pullover, it was as if I’d grown a couple of centimetres; and it wasn’t just the spare pair of work heels I’d got out of my locker either. Hell, they pinched, after the bare feet and sandals of Greece.

Steve was at his desk, ending a call, as I walked over.

“Jake’s near the hospital with the satellite truck, he’s expecting you, there’s a car waiting outside. If you log in, you can see the piece which will go before you. It’s already cut. There’s a link written in the running order for the ten o’clock.” He stopped and sat back, his hand touching his chin as he looked at me. “Tess. Are you really up to this? You don’t have to do it. You know that, don’t you? Clare’s standing by to go on instead if you want?”

“Thanks, Steve, but I wouldn’t have offered unless I could deliver. You know me better than that. It’s been a really rough week or so and it isn’t over yet, as they say, but look, I feel good about doing this.

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