Page 6 of Eva Reddy’s Trip of a Lifetime

But how will I ever know? I still haven’t come up with a plan of action.

Confronting Jonathan is unlikely to achieve anything more than a nasty argument.

Ignorance is so appealing, especially when none of the scenarios playing out in my head have a happy ending.

Most finish with humiliated tears and a lot of scotch. Or cognac.

Another twenty minutes go by. I wonder if I should change into something more flattering than my ‘around the house’ fat jeans.

A mental stocktake of my wardrobe doesn’t uncover any obvious alternatives, but I can do better than the ratty old T-shirt I am wearing.

I hurry into the bedroom and select a deep green crepe de chine blouse that I like to think complements my eyes.

As I pull it on, the glow of headlights fills the room.

Jonathan is home.

From the journals and miscellaneous paperwork of Eva Reddy (Age 22)

June 1st, 1994

BEST. DAY. OF. MY. LIFE. Well, maybe not as good as my first date with Jonathan, but pretty close. And maybe even more exciting, although I’d never admit that outside of these pages.

Today was the launch of my (hopefully) stellar career.

I started my first real adult job. And it wasn’t in some hokey regional radio station.

I am officially working in the largest television newsroom in the country!

I even exchanged a few words with one of the female newsreaders.

Women here are only trusted to read the autocue during the daytime soapies and late at night.

But there are women at other stations who’ve elbowed their way onto the main desk.

I plan to be the first to crash through the glass ceiling here at Channel 8.

Or, adapting the metaphor for television, the green chroma-key screen.

That kind of job is still a long way away. Right now, I’ve got my eye on a gig as a foreign correspondent. I need to establish my credibility. I’m not a bloke, I’m not going to be offered a spot behind the news desk just by scratching my balls.

But back to my first day on the job. I need to get all the details straight. Maybe in thirty or so years’ time, I’ll read this journal entry and repurpose it for my bestselling memoir.

First, my choice of outfit. I spent a whole week angsting over my first-day wardrobe.

I wanted to project professionalism without looking too stuffy.

I went with a white cotton blouse with a sailor neckline, a charcoal grey pencil skirt and medium-heeled black court shoes.

I was way overdressed for an A.P. (That means assistant producer!) but I nailed the court reporter look, which is kind of like funeral wear for anyone not in the immediate family.

I also learned today that you shouldn’t wear white on camera.

It drains your skin. Stripes and teensy patterns are also out because they make the camera strobe.

It wasn’t a problem today. But I need to be prepared for when I get the call up.

So tomorrow, I’m going to relax my look a bit but remain camera ready. Chances are when I do get my big break, I will be covering a story about animals or kids, not some big court case.

The news director who hired me wasn’t in today.

He was at some three-day executive retreat out in the country somewhere.

I think polo was involved. So I reported to the deputy director.

He is beer-bellied and pleasant enough, but he doesn’t seem especially smart or switched on.

I reckon he’d struggle to count past his toes.

Our discussion was thankfully short. I introduced myself. He looked me up and down. I think he wanted to smile but it came out more like a leer.

‘Mike didn’t tell me you were so good-looking.’

I guess the guy thought he was paying me a compliment. But he’s my dad’s age so it didn’t land right.

He directed me to the line-up producer, and I was given one small job for the day and advised to watch and learn.

One other assistant producer started today as well.

Her name is Katie. I don’t think we’ll be competing against one another.

Her look is definitely ‘lifestyle’. A serious news reporter would never show that much cleavage or wear a skirt that short and tight.

I sound bitchy, but facts are facts. And I really like her.

The newsroom is divided into two distinct parts.

There’s the area where the reporters sit.

Their desks are behind the news desk, and you can see them behind the newsreader when we go to air.

That’s where I plan to sit in the next year or so.

But for the moment I have no fixed address—unless you have a regular and important job, you never sit in the same spot at the same desk from one day to the next.

Your location depends on what shift you are covering: morning news, daytime news breaks or late news.

But every seat has a view of incoming news feeds. And that is so exciting!

Today I watched vision from Sarajevo, where snipers are picking off civilians as they race across streets to find food and water.

The footage comes direct from London and the United States and is maybe less than twenty-four hours old.

One day, I want to be on the ground and reporting in real time.

But that’s a long way off yet. My task today was watching a tape of a baby beauty pageant somewhere in Western Sydney.

I wrote a short script about it for the end of the bulletin—the fluff piece that is supposed to leave the audience smiling after they’ve heard the weather forecast. It ran for just under a minute and I loaded it with puns about tantrums and toddling.

And wait for this …

It went to air without a single change! I even got an approving nod from the creepy deputy director, although his gaze did linger on the sailor tie of my shirt for a teensy bit longer than necessary.

After the bulletin had gone to air, Katie grabbed me. She’d heard there’s a pub around the corner where all the television people go after work. And we were television people now—right? So off we went.

The place is a bit of a dive but it feels a lot like Phil’s Bar from Murphy Brown so I loved it straight away.

I also like all the black-and-white photos of local television celebrities.

My new career goal is to have my portrait on the wall there one day.

Unfortunately, it was a Monday night, so television types were thin on the ground.

And those who were there were not the television types I want to meet.

So, Katie and I just had a beer each and headed home to get ready for Day 2.

But I like Katie. I like Katie a lot. We talked a little about our lives but mostly about television and how exciting it all was.

I hope we stay in touch when I’m traipsing about the world’s war zones and she’s a reporter on Sex .

And no, I’m not being mean. Katie actually said that was her career goal!

If the show is renewed. Like I said before, we’re going to be friends, not rivals.

So, all up, an absolutely brilliant day. My career is on track. I have a new friend. I can’t wait to tell Jonathan all about it.

I so love my life.