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prospective employer forever why her one-year career break had morphed into almost a decade-long one. The first year had turned into two and then, when she had come home, she couldn’t settle. So after a few temping jobs she was off on her travels again. It was only when she had started receiving news of her friends getting bling rings and having gigantic wedding and babies, for God’s sake, that she’d panicked and come home.
    She hit the reply button now and was mentally composing a note of regret when she became aware of Helene who was hovering again.
    “Anything interesting?”
    “Er ... I was making a few notes for the show.” Tess swiftly minimised her email.
    “Great!” Helene sat on the edge of her desk. “We’ll all have to do better, Tess. That’s what I’ve come to talk to you about, actually.”
    “You have?” Tess asked cautiously.
    “Yes, I’ve been thinking. I think it’s time you went on-air.”
    “
What?
” Tess swung around to face her boss, astonished.
    “It would only be part-time,” Helene warned, “and it would be on top of your work producing This Morning of course. But it’s a good opportunity for you and ...”
    “What would I be doing?” Tess was acutely aware that Andrea was at the next desk, pretending to be concentrating on something on her computer but listening closely to the conversation. She didn’t want Andrea to feel threatened, particularly as she was the one who’d got her the job here in the first place.
    “You’re our new Agony Aunt!” Helene beamed. She shoved a jotter in front of Tess. “See? I’m going to call you Agony Aunt of the Airwaves. It has a good ring to it, hasn’t it?”
    “
What?
” Tess repeated. She stared at Helene, mystified.
    “What?” Andrea’s head whipped away from the computer screen.
    “Will you all stop saying ‘what’?” Helene said testily. “I am telling you what right now. What I want is an agony-aunt slot, Tess, once a week. And I want you to make it really hot and sexy.”
    “You want me to be a SEX agony aunt?” Tess felt a flicker of anger. That would be just perfect, if she did ever bump into Chris Conroy again, explaining how she had ended up as a sex advisor.
    “Not talking about actual sex,” Helene said impatiently. “Well, not necessarily. But just make the slot sexy. You know ... career women climbing the corporate ladder who are too busy to meet Mr Right. Or,” she glanced sideways towards Andrea, “women who are trying to juggle work and family and finding it all too much of a struggle. Or,” Helene tapped her biro on Tess’s desk, “women who are in relationships with commitment-phobic men. There’s a lot of that about I can tell you. Or men whose bitter ex-wives won’t let them see their kids. That sort of thing.”
    “But I wouldn’t know how to do that!” Tess blurted.
    “What’s there to know?” Helene demanded.
    “Where will I get the problems? Or, more to the point, the answers?”
    “How the hell do I know?” Helene snapped. “Make up the problems. And the answers while you’re at it. Make ‘em short, make ‘em snappy, and make ‘em up! That can be your motto.” She smiled as if she’d solved Tess’s problem.
    “It doesn’t sound very ethical,” Tess pointed out, “and even if it was ... well, I don’t think being an agony aunt is exactly my forte, Helene.”
    “Really?” Helene asked coolly. “And what do you think your forte is, exactly? Yesterday you finished your programme with an item about pooper scoopers, which Ollie is still wrecking my head over. So maybe you should start thinking about what exactly your forte is before you go dissing my ideas!”
    Tess bit her lip. “Of course I’ll think about it. When were you thinking of starting it – the agony aunt slot?”
    “Immediately would be good.” Helene was already moving away from the desk, her heels clicking on the wooden floor.
    “When is immediately?” Tess called after her with