Chapter Eighteen
Minutes later, as Anika walks through the door to her department she has the disconcerting sensation of everyone’s eyes turning towards her at once.
It’s almost as though she can hear the thoughts rattling through her colleagues’ minds as they return to their keyboards, busily typing with the occasional pursed-lipped sympathy-smile intended for her but aimed at their screens.
Laila, headphones on, looks up and gives her a genuine one, mouthing, ‘All right?’ Anika nods. She’s grateful for the lifeline.
She can see that one of the freelancers is hot-desking where she’d usually sit, smokers-coughing all over her keyboard. Nice to know I’ve been missed. For a split second, she thinks about how she might not have been walking back in here at all …
Anika makes her way over to her line manager’s corner desk on the open-plan office floor. As she approaches, Kate looks up with a start, then gives her a slightly nervous smile.
‘Oh. Brilliant, uh, Anika! Hi!’
‘Hi, Kate. We said half ten for today, right?’
‘Yes, yes we did,’ Kate says. She stands and nods towards a nearby meeting room, tucking her hair behind her ears, the tips of which are red.
The woman wasn’t in her role for nothing – on bigger platforms, Kate Friern was a dynamo – but Anika forgot just how awkward her boss seemed with even vaguely challenging one-on-one interactions.
Especially with her. Anika might have wondered what could possibly be intimidating about talking to her versus the other people in their team …
As Kate gathers up her notebook and phone, a light-voiced enquiry comes from behind her.
‘Hi, Anika,’ says Elaine from Publicity. ‘How are you feeling? Wow, your hair looks amazing! Is that all your … I mean, did you … Are you happy with the colour and everything?’
Anika almost laughs at how weird that sentence ended up being, and she watches as the woman sips from a mug that says Fun Fabulous Feminist on it in purple letters.
‘Mmhmm,’ she replies, assuming that will cover everything.
‘Shall we?’ her boss asks, and Anika follows Kate past the photocopiers to one of the smaller meeting rooms. Their catch-up is as stilted as she expected, but at least everything else seems to be working out as she planned in the diary today.
People have certainly been doing the how-are-you head-tilt, but Anika isn’t feeling awkward at all.
She just needs to keep an eye out for those new career opportunities she wrote about …
‘And I think that should be you all caught up,’ Kate eventually says as their chat comes to an end, expelling a relieved exhale.
‘Great,’ Anika replies, nodding and closing her notebook.
In fact, no time like the present. ‘Actually, now that I’m back, I was wondering if we might have a chance to discuss opportunities for expanding my role to the creative side of the business a bit?
I’ve been keen to see if I could get into programming or production if the chance arises. ’
Anika watches as her boss’s eyes widen, then narrow.
‘Ah, right. I mean, obviously you know our department is a bit of a separate silo to all of that. The last few weeks have shown how much we need you here, that’s for certain. I’m not sure how much scope there would be for that at the moment, to be honest with you, Anika.’
Anika cringes at the way she puts the emphasis on the first syllable of her name.
‘An-eek-a,’ she corrects Kate off-handedly before continuing, ‘I do know that, yes. But I think if the ad-sales team had more outreach or connection with the shows themselves, it would put us in a better position to place ads effectively. I know I’d love to have more to do with Spin, for example. ’
‘Ah, right – of course,’ Kate replies, then her neck reddens further as she seems to understand the implication of assuming Anika would naturally want to work for the ‘urban’ station. ‘I mean …’
‘It’s just something I wanted to put out there,’ Anika says, stifling a laugh. It may come to nothing, but who knows where an opportunity could come from? She tries to ignore the sudden flash of a thought: after all, you could be dead right now. ‘Oh, and do you think my desk will be free soon?’
Kate blinks. ‘Ah, yes, sorry, sorry – I’ll sort out another spot for Melanie. Let’s, um …’
‘I might go to the kitchen and make a coffee in the meantime?’
Another relieved sigh from Kate. ‘Fab, fab, sure. And, um, good to have you back.’
Anika picks up her bag and heads to the nearby communal kitchen. The shelves, as ever by this time of day, have been entirely stripped bare of mugs, but Anika then spots a solitary, pristine Format-Radio-branded one sitting there on the shelf at eye level, waiting to be used.
‘Blimey!’ she mutters, picking it up and perching it under the coffee machine’s spout.
As she presses the buttons to set it dispensing a double-dose of sub-par Americano, her eyes are drawn to a discarded printout next to the nearby sink.
Someone must have left it there while they were making a drink, and Anika spots something that makes her heart judder.
The words Spin and Specialist Shows and Podcasts and playlist curating jump out at her, so much so that she forgets to pull her cup away before it begins spilling coffee into the overflow area beneath it.
‘Ah, there it is!’ Anika hears, and then a moment later someone is at her shoulder, whisking the piece of paper off the counter. ‘Oh, Anika! Hey, babe.’
Great. Anika fixes a smile onto her lips and turns towards Nia, who immediately reaches out to rest a jauntily manicured hand on Anika’s shoulder. She tries not to balk at it. Maybe she should allow herself to think of Nia as a friend – another of the very few allies she has in this space.
‘So great to see you back!’ Nia is saying. ‘And you’re looking amazing, by the way. Like, are you sure you weren’t just on a spa retreat or something? Curls are popping! Maybe I should try some colour in mine?’
Ugh. It’s possible that she just doesn’t like this chick. Nia squeezes her arm for a moment longer before letting her hand drop to her hip, looking at Anika with an encouraging, borderline-patronising smile.
‘Yep, definitely not at a spa.’ Anika buttons a wry laugh onto the end of her sentence, not keen to elaborate. Nia’s undoubtedly heard the gossip, anyway. ‘I’m doing better now, thanks.’
‘Good, good,’ Nia says, then flaps the piece of paper she’s picked up.
‘Have you seen this, by the way?’ She doesn’t wait for Anika to respond.
‘New position at Spin; internal ad will be out today. Obviously they need to go external, too, but …’ She leans in with a mock whisper.
‘I’m thinking about whether to go for it.
Like, to be honest, I’m not that much of a music-head in terms of the curating and stuff, but fake it till you make it, right?
Google’s my friend and I reckon making podcasts could be a good step up in the production side of things … ’
‘Right,’ Anika murmurs, her heart racing. She wouldn’t have to fake it. She was built for this. ‘Actually, that is good to know, coz I was thinking—’
‘I was going to chat to Cam about it, too,’ Nia continues. ‘Might as well use him for something, right?’
‘Chat to Cam?’ Anika asks, her face turning hot. ‘Cam Asiedu?’
‘Yeah. I’ve been seeing him, kind of. Well, a date or two, you know.’
The woman seems both smug and a bit unsure, but Anika is still definitely jealous. Nodding, she takes a breath. ‘Decent shout to ask him, then,’ she says, and perhaps it is. But there’s a reason why this role has been brought to her attention, Anika is sure of it. The diary. That job is hers.
‘Anyway, take things easy, yeah?’ Nia is saying. ‘See you soon.’ She ambles away, her pleated gold skirt swaying around her curves.
‘See you.’
Anika heads to her locker, just about remembering the code.
She pulls out her laptop and quickly moves over to her now-vacated desk.
Docking her computer, she not-so-subtly squirts hand sanitiser onto a tissue and wipes it over the plug-in keyboard before firing up her email and taking a deep breath.
Let’s get to work.
By the time Thursday evening rolls around, even with her week of phase-in, the idea of yet another day in the office before the week is over seems like torture.
After eating dinner in front of an Insecure re-watch, she flips her smart TV over to YouTube and pulls up an iconic video of Neneh Cherry in the 80s, performing pregnant on Top of the Pops.
Watching the beautiful singer rapping in her gold bomber jacket and matching bra, looking cool as fuck, Anika is inspired.
She reaches for the diary sitting beside her on the sofa and starts to write.
Friday 27th July
Finally, end of the week. That new job is closer than I can imagine – my current work situation is le ghetto, but I am certain it’s not going to last much longer.
Today I wore exactly what I felt like, and it was just for me.
I felt a supreme confidence at the centre of myself, with no need for validation.
No lie – my skin was glowing, my hair was moisturised, my curves swerving.
My body is strong and healthy now. I honestly don’t feel like there’s any risk of any * issues * cropping up again.
I woke up before my alarm this morning, raring to go, and did a forty-five-minute yoga routine before heading into work.
I blocked anyone who got in the way of my happiness one way or another, using my words or my actions …
Yeah. This is the energy she needs all the time.
In fact, she decides to set up a few general affirmations as standard.
She breaks off from tomorrow’s entry to scrawl a list of manifestations in the page’s margin.
Then she flips forward through the diary pages, meticulously writing upcoming dates at the top of each page for the next week, and repeats the list under each one.
Today I was entirely healthy.
Today I was strong.
Today I felt confident.
Today I was looking fit.
Today nobody pissed me off (not that I couldn’t handle anyway).
Today I did some exercise and smashed it.
Today I won the lottery. (Come on, come on, come on!!)
She turns back to finish tomorrow’s entry with a smile.