The radio station’s production switchboard had been lit up like a Christmas tree all morning and Lauren Bickford was desperate for a double-shot latte and fresh air to blast away the 4.30am-alarm fatigue.

She bustled out of the studio and nearly bumped into a colleague in the hall. ‘Woah, George, you right with that?’ The long-serving breakfast presenter, George Whitehead, peered over an armful of perilously stacked items: newspapers, coffee cups and his laptop. ‘Absolutely,’ he insisted, his emphatic nod making the mugs clink together. ‘Only a fool would stand in the way of a producer and her caffeine fix.’

Lauren laughed, swooping in before the towering pile crashed to the ground. ‘I’m going to miss your sweet-talking, George. Caravan all packed and ready?’

‘Ready as we’ll ever be. My wife’s even vacuumed the curtains,’ he said, attempting to open the staffroom door with his elbow. ‘And how about you, Blondie?’ He lowered his voice. ‘Is your suit dry cleaned and ready to go?’

‘I’ve never seen you wear a suit to work, George,’ Lauren said, grinning and opening the door for him, ‘nor any of the 2 other presenters. But if it’s good news tomorrow, perhaps I’ll dust off the iron.’

‘Dress for the job you want,’ George replied. ‘Those wrinkly shirts might be okay for the producer’s box, but you’ll want to look the part when you accept this new gig. As I told the HR team, you’re the right lady to host the brekky show.’

‘Fingers crossed,’ Lauren said, donning a jacket and dashing outside into the crisp autumn air. Gold and ochre leaves crunched under her boots and puddles reflected the overcast sky, a timely reminder to pack her fingerless gloves for tomorrow’s outside broadcast.

The barista, Jean Dellacourte, waved from the mobile coffee van. ‘Lauren, you’re late! I almost left.’

‘Sorry, the listeners kept calling in. They’re missing George already.’ Lauren handed over her reusable cups, a twinge of anxiety running down her spine: excitement that she might finally step into the radio host’s seat or nerves that she’d put herself out there with no guarantee of success?…

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