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Bill’s head was swivelling back and forth between the two women as though he was watching a game of tennis. ‘Fliss? But she can’t—’

Jo ignored him. ‘Mike will tell you where to stand, won’t you?’ she called to the director, Michael Adams.

‘What’s this?’ he asked, coming over.

‘Daisy has gone AWOL, and I thought, so that the rehearsal can get underway, Fliss can stand in for her until her divine majesty drags herself out of bed. Otherwise we’re all just standing around doing nothing.’

‘Sure.’ Michael grinned. ‘Hop up onto the set, Fliss. We’re starting with the showbiz gossip segment.’

‘But she’s just a runner!’ Bill protested. ‘You need to clear this with management.’

For the first time, Jo acknowledged him. ‘I am management.’

Bill’s lips were set in a mutinous line, frustration written across his face. It was clear that he wasn’t used to being told no – especially not by a woman. ‘But it should be someone more senior. Look, I really think I should—’

‘Off you go, Fliss. We’re already behind schedule,’ Jo encouraged her, as Bill watched, open-mouthed and angry.

Almost before Fliss knew what was happening, she was stepping onto the familiar set which was designed to look like a student apartment. Interviews were conducted on the two-seater sofa in the lounge with cooking segments filmed in the tiny kitchen. Fliss blinked in the glare of the bright studio lights, but quickly found her feet as the autocue began rolling and she read the words easily and naturally, even feeling comfortable enough for some unscripted banter with Jax.

And it was more fun than Fliss had expected. She figured that she had nothing to lose, so why not just enjoy the experience? She had been working on the show for a few months, and knew Jax well enough that they had a natural rapport and chemistry. The stakes were low – this was only a rehearsal, and she was just a stand-in – so it didn’t matter if she flubbed a line or missed a cue. After a while, she even forgot about Bill standing in her eyeline with his arms crossed, glowering and sending bad vibes her way, clearly hoping she would be intimidated and distracted.

Being in front of the camera was a lightbulb moment for Fliss. She immediately felt like a more confident, assured version of herself. One who was bolder and cheekier than she was ordinarily. It was almost as if the camera switched on a version of herself that she hadn’t quite known was there.

She was almost disappointed when, just under an hour later, a rough but unrepentant-looking Daisy flounced into the studio. Jo took one look at her and said, ‘Let’s get you straight into make-up.’

As Daisy flounced off, the director yelled, ‘Thanks everyone, we’ll take a break now and start letting the audience in. Back here in ten.’

Fliss stepped off the set, suddenly feeling uncertain now that the lights were turned off and the autocue had stopped rolling. Adrenaline was racing through her body, and she felt as though she had run a marathon.

Jax grinned at her. ‘Great job!’ He was a tall, slender, good-looking guy, effortlessly cool with a laidback charm.

‘Thanks,’ Fliss said, appreciating his words. She felt that she had done a great job, and she had enjoyed herself too, even though she knew she was only standing in.

Jo came over and said, ‘Fliss, I really appreciate you stepping in at the last minute.’ She was looking at Fliss curiously. ‘How did you find it?’

‘It was fun, actually,’ Fliss admitted. ‘A lot of fun.’

‘I could tell. You were great. More than great, actually. Honestly, Fliss, you’re a natural talent, and the camera absolutely loves you. You look amazing on film.’

‘Really?’ Fliss was taken aback by Jo’s effusive praise, a warm glow spreading through her. It felt good to be talented at something, good to be appreciated. At school, she had always been bright and hard-working, but never exceptional. After leaving university, she had no strong idea of what her career path would be, instead applying for various trainee schemes and internships until she was accepted for this junior role with LBTV. Now it seemed she might have accidentally stumbled across her passion.

‘You’re a natural. Wasn’t she, Mike?’

‘What’s that?’ The director came across to join them.

‘I was just saying,’ Joanna continued. ‘Fliss was born to this.’

‘Oh, absolutely – like a duck to water, babes,’ Mike gushed. ‘A star is born!’

In her excitement, Fliss was oblivious to Bill, who, fuming on the sidelines, turned on his heel and stormed out of the studio.

But not before casting one more look at Fliss before he did so, a look that was filled with pure envy and loathing.

Fliss left work later than usual. After the live show had wrapped there was the usual post-show debrief and, fired up with enthusiasm, Fliss hung around until the crew were leaving in the late afternoon. She kept replaying her earlier triumph, thrilled that she had caught the eye of both the influential producer and director, and she was determined to repay their faith in her.

The darkness drew in early on these winter nights, and the streetlamps were already on as Fliss made her way from the river back along the residential streets towards the tube station. Some of the windows were decorated for Christmas already, strings of fairy lights hung round the edge of windows in the apartment blocks she was passing, whilst in others trees had been trimmed with baubles and tinsel, glittering stars at the top.

Her mobile began to ring and Fliss fished it out of her bag, seeing the caller’s name lit up on the screen.