Radio Gaga (7 page)

The following morning I was about to head off to work when I spotted Ben’s sister struggling to get a large pink suitcase out of a cab. Her glossy blonde ponytail was limp and bedraggled. The skin on her face was blotchy and there were red rims around her eyes as if she’d been crying.

I went over to offer her a hand with her luggage. “Oh hi, its Ben’s sister isn’t it? I’m Chloe, from downstairs.”

She nodded her head in reply as she handed the cabbie a twenty pound note. “I’m Tash.”

The cab pulled away leaving me standing on the drive with Tash, a huge holdall and a big case.

“Would you like some help to get your bags upstairs?” It looked from the size of her luggage as if she intended to stay a while.

She bit her lip and glanced nervously up at Ben’s window before replying. “Thanks. Ben isn’t expecting me so I don’t know if he’s home.”

Curiouser and curiouser.
“His car isn’t here so he might have left already. Do you have a key?”

She dug down into a tiny messenger bag slung around her shoulder. “Yes.”

Armed with a key we set off up the stairs. I must admit I was curious to see inside the flat. We arrived panting on the tiny landing outside Ben’s front door and Tash pressed the doorbell.

“He must have gone to work,” I said after we’d waited for a couple of minutes with no response from inside.

Tash sighed and unlocked the door. I followed behind her with her holdall as she towed her case inside. Ben’s flat was nice, airy and light with walls the colour of clotted cream. A large matching fluffy rug was spread on the floor in front of the dark leather sofas I’d seen the day he’d moved in and a few pictures of Ben and Tash stood on a glass topped coffee table.

“Thanks for your help. I do appreciate it. Have you got time for a coffee?” Tash dropped her case next to the sofa and headed for the kitchen.

I hadn’t really, but what the hell, I’d make it up to Merv by staying later. “Sure, that would be nice.”

I wandered over to the kitchen doorway. Tash had kicked off her heels in a corner and pattered around the small room gathering mugs, spoons and milk.

“It’ll be a nice surprise for Ben to have you stay.” I shook my head at the offer of sugar.

She gave a small shrug and handed me my drink. “I hope so. He likes his privacy though, so he might be a bit miffed. I don’t have anywhere else to go. One more hour spent with the olds and I would have killed them.”

I assumed she’d been living with her parents. “My mother is staying with me at the moment. I can sympathise.”

She led the way back into the lounge where she curled up, cat-like on the end of the sofa. “You’re the radio girl, aren’t you?
The one who collapsed at the abseil?”

“Yep, that’s me.” I know I wanted to be famous but I’d rather it was for something other than making a complete tit of
myself
on local radio.

“My hairdresser had it on in the salon. Normally they have Radio Two but I told them my brother was covering the event for the paper so they changed channel. It sounded very dramatic.” She flashed me a sympathetic smile.

Of course no self-respecting trendy salon would normally be tuned in to Live it
Up
. “I don’t know. I was out cold. The first thing I knew about it was when I woke up in hospital. It was my own fault. I’m scared of heights, I mean completely terrified and my friend had given me some of her sedatives to try and relax me. I didn’t read the instructions properly and as she’d had them for ages I assumed they weren’t very potent.”

Tash took a sip from her mug. “It’s a good job Ben was there; he’s great in a crisis.”

“Yeah, except now he seems to have it in his head that I’m some kind of junkie in denial.”

To my surprise Tash flushed to the roots of her blonde hair. “He’s quite sensitive about drug misuse. I er, I got into a spot of trouble last year and well, he’s my big brother.”

I guess Tash’s confession explained a lot. “I often wish I’d had a brother or sister.”

She smiled. “I’m often torn between loving Ben and wanting to kill him.” Her smile faded. “Then again after what happened to him a few months back, I’m glad he’s still here.”

I desperately wanted to know what she meant. Clearly something major had happened in Ben’s life, something life threatening. Before I could think how to ask in a way that didn’t seem downright nosy she jumped up from the sofa.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Please forget I mentioned it, he gets terribly cross if I bring it up.”

“Of course.”
I finished my coffee. I was going to be in so much trouble with Merv if I stayed any longer and Tash was clearly wishing me gone, now.

“Thanks for the coffee.
Pop downstairs to my flat any time if you want company.
You might save me from murdering my mother.” I stood my mug on the coffee table and scrambled to my feet.

After saying goodbye to Tash I jogged downstairs to my car pondering the info she’d given me about her brother. Maybe he’d been ill, had cancer or something or been in an accident. I’d have to try and do some subtle fishing for info.

My phone vibrated in my pocket before I’d even started the engine.

A familiar refrain hit my eardrum as soon as I pressed the green button. “Lark, get your arse over here.”

“I’m on my way, Merv.
Just collecting some research material.”
Bum, busted.

“Save the excuses, you’re late – again! Steph has a ton of work for you to get through so stop messing about.” He rang off.

I joined the stream of traffic heading into town muttering under my breath all the while. That was the part of my job that I hated. Steph treated me like a lapdog. No doubt she’d had some icky and boring ideas that I was supposed to research and then
go
out and capture interviews and info for her to use on her show over the next week.

After taking a couple of my favourite rat run short cuts I finally made it to the radio station thirty minutes late.

“Steph’s on the war path.” Tracey murmured as I signed in.

“What’s new?” She was always after me for something. It wasn’t only
me,
she didn’t care much for any of the other presenters either, not even Reverend Pete who presented the God slot on Sunday evenings.

“She’s left that lot for you.” Tracey indicated a wire basket groaning with leaflets and cuttings from various papers.

I could see I wasn’t going to get much time between now and Friday to prepare my own stuff ready for the allotment piece and the ordeal-by-snake at the zoo. A quick look at the contents of the basket revealed hundreds of yellow post it notes covered with Steph’s sprawly writing and adorned with a million exclamation marks.

“Better make a start I suppose.” I scooped the tray up and wedged it against my hip ready to take it through to the small back office I shared with Tracey and Lyn, Merv’s long-suffering personal secretary.

“Just watch out for land mines.” Tracey quipped as I eased my way backwards through the door.

Merv’s secretary smiled as I plonked the tray down on the desk.
“Looks as if Steph’s found you plenty of work.”

“As usual.”
I picked the first brochure from the top of the pile.
A missive on how to correctly apply liquid eyeliner.
While I was in no doubt that make-up instruction could be useful, I wasn’t sure that the listeners of Cereal with Steph would be very interested. The demographics for her show were mostly women over the age of sixty-five. The most popular item last year on her show had been a piece on chiropody services in the NHS.

I knew we needed to pull in a younger audience but a segment on liquid eyeliner delivered to an audience who were more interested in cataract surgery seemed a bit too, well, inappropriate. I screwed up Steph’s post it note and chucked it in the bin.

After collecting a caffeine top up from the staff room I stuck my headphones on, cranked up my iPod and set to work on Steph’s mystical basket of crap ideas. I’d managed to wade through the top third when Merv’s secretary interrupted my scintillating read of a medical article entitled, ‘Is the wearing of thongs hygienic?’ by yanking out my ear buds and waving her hands in front of my face.

“Oh my!”

“What’s the matter?” From the look on her face I thought she was about to pass out.

“That was the TV.” She waggled her hand in the direction of the phone. “They heard about your Challenge Chloe and they’re going to film the visit to the reptile house for a slot on the local evening news. Your being ill at the abseil caught their attention.”

“TV?”
I’d wanted to be on TV for so long. I’d applied for various reporting jobs and never even made it for an interview. I’d even tried and failed to become a weather girl. The audition for Blue Peter had gone tits-up when I’d discovered a hitherto unknown allergy to sticky back plastic. Big red blisters are not an attractive look especially in high definition.

“I must tell Merv.” She headed out of the office door before I could stop her.

She must have been half way down the corridor before the implications of what she’d said sank in. I was going to be filmed with snakes -- ick -- and spiders -- shudder -- with the results being seen all over the region. Oh my God, I needed to get my hair cut and a manicure and find a way to look cool, calm and collected all before Friday.

Merv crashed into the office, his secretary hot on his heels. He halted in front of my desk, narrowing his eyes at me. “Better get your act together, Lark. I want you up at the zoo with our promo boards – take the ones for Cereal with Steph, get a sweatshirt and cap from stores to wear. Hell, find one for Ben too in case he gets into shot. This is advertising gold for Live it Up and so help me, Lark if you mess this up you’ll be collecting your P45 before you can say Michael Jackson.”

Lovely, I’d be on TV wearing a naff bright yellow sweatshirt and a cap that made me look like a duck. Big Bird’s double. I tried and failed to picture Ben in a similar outfit, like he would agree anyway. He didn’t even work for Merv, so why would he promote our crummy radio station? Maybe I could lose the stupid cap and claim the TV people had said I couldn’t wear it.

“Pity it’s not Steph doing this instead of you, she’s very photogenic.” Merv mused as if I wasn’t there. Nice to know he had no favourites.

“Oh no, it’s definitely got to be Chloe.” Lyn, his secretary interrupted. “They were most specific. They want her because of the problem at the castle and the Challenge Chloe items.”

Merv scowled and a twinge of glee warmed my soul. Steph would go mental when she found out. She was still live on air so I had another thirty minutes grace in which to either make good my escape or stick around for the fireworks.

“It’ll be great, Merv. You can trust me.” This was going to be so brilliant. I could almost taste it, my shot at getting something on my CV for future TV job applications.

He rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t trust you, Lark as far as I could throw you.”

Ouch, anyone would think I screwed things up on purpose. I was just unlucky. Anyway there was no way I intended messing this up, this was my chance and it had the added advantage of driving Steph crazy.

Bonus.

I decided against being around when Steph discovered I was to be on prime time TV: my life insurance wasn’t that good. Instead I managed to get away by explaining to Merv that with so much to do before Friday I needed to get the segment with Fred in the can now.

As soon as I was clear of the radio station I called Shelly.

“Guess what? I’m going to be on the telly!” I barely gave her time to finish her official answering the phone at work spiel.

“What time? Doing what?”

“They’re coming to film the snake and spider handling at the zoo. It’s going out on the six o’clock local news.”

There was a momentary pause. “Babe, how are you going to get around handling a snake? It’ll be the abseil all over again and on TV.”

Shelly had a point. Maybe they could just film me with a spider? I don’t like spiders but I could probably cope better with one of those instead of a snake. “I’ll figure out a way to cope somehow. This could be my big break.”

“I bet Steph will have a turn when she knows about it.”

I could hear the grin in Shelly’s voice. “Oh yes. I’m off to track down Fred for the allotment seg. Fancy meeting me for lunch? I got some goss about Ben from his sister.”

“You bet. I lost half a pound at fat club so I reckon that means I can manage a sandwich at the George and Dragon.”

“See you there at one.” I rang off and carried on walking towards the allotments.

There were a few people working on their plots as I unlatched the pedestrian gate and entered the allotment site. The sun had come out to burn off the last of the early morning mist. I tugged off my sweater as I made my way along the path towards Fred’s plot. A couple of plot holders glanced at me curiously as I walked by so I waved to let them know I was supposed to be there.

Sure enough Fred was hard at work digging up weeds.

“Hi. I came to see if I could get some material on tape for the Challenge Chloe slot.” I waggled my bag containing the tape machine at him.

He paused in his digging to tip his flat cap further back on his head.
“Oh aye.
Is it pretend for recording or are you here to do the real digging?”

“Recording today.
I’ll come back on Saturday to do the planting so Ben can come and get pictures.”

“Is he the chap from the Gazette?” He rested his arms on the handle of his spade. At his feet a fat earthworm wiggled around in the loose soil. Ugh, they always reminded me of miniature snakes.

“Yes.” I started to tug my microphone free from the bag. I would have to remember to ask Ben if he could take the pictures on Saturday when I saw him at the zoo.

Fred grunted an acknowledgement and watched me assemble my kit as I explained what we were going to do. It took a while to get what I needed, Fred answering questions and sounds of birds, me commenting, the spade in the soil, etc. We’d attracted a small audience while we’d been working. Lurking in the background I noticed Kevin, the kid I’d signed the autograph for at Mr Hassan’s shop.

I finished up, stowed my kit away and said goodbye to Fred, promising I’d be back on Saturday. Not that I wanted to spend my Saturday morning digging in the dirt with Fred planting carrots or beans or whatever else he had in mind for me. I’d rather spend my weekends at the local shopping mall, drinking lattes and browsing in Next or
River
Island
.

My bag bumped uncomfortably against my hip as I hurried back to my car at the station car park. Shelly’s employer was mean with her lunch break so I daren’t be late meeting her.

She had waited for me at one of the wooden tables in the tiny pocket-hanky sized garden at the rear of the George and Dragon. She must have got there early as her glass of juice was half empty and an empty cheese and onion crisp packet was secured beneath it to prevent it from blowing away in the slight breeze.

“Am I late?” I scurried across the grass to meet her.

“Nope, the boss let me out a few minutes early for good behaviour provided I dropped a load of stuff in at the printers.” Shelly moved her handbag so I could sit opposite her.

“I’d better get a drink. Have you ordered any food yet?” I checked my watch. I wanted to try and get my nails done before venturing back to the radio station. Tracey had promised to let me know when it was safe.

One of the bar staff came out to collect the empty glasses from the table next to us so we snagged his attention for our sandwich and drinks order.

“You’re wasting your time.” I murmured to Shelly as he went back inside with his tray of empties and our order.

A faint flush stole up her cheeks. “I don’t know what you mean. He fits the description the psychic gave me. Look he’s wearing a blue shirt.”

“His boyfriend is the chef, and anyway half the population of
Britain
fits the description you got.” I’d forgotten about the psychic fayre. What a waste of money that had been. Although to be fair there had been quite a few changes in my life and Ben did make me feel all wobbly when he smiled at me. So long as the danger part of the prediction was about the abseil. It would be typical of my luck if it was a warning not to get bitten by a poisonous spider or squished by a boa constrictor.

“So, tell me this gossip about Ben then,” Shelly demanded.

I dutifully repeated the info I’d gleaned from Tash.

“And she didn’t tell Ben she was coming to stay?
Hmmm.”
Shelly accepted a fresh glass of juice from the waiter as he returned with our lunch and drinks. “Such a waste,” she muttered as he walked away across the lawn.

“What are you going to do about your snake phobia? You can’t go passing out or throwing up on TV.” Shelly asked
,
taking a bite from a large cheese and pickle cob which I suspected wasn’t on her list of permitted food from Fat Club.

“I don’t know. I’ll think of something.” I hated to admit it but my euphoria over being filmed had made me a touch over-confident about how I was actually going to be able to get through the zoo visit.

Shelly chewed on her sandwich, her forehead crinkled in thought.
“Hynotherapy!
There’s that place in the next street to my office.”

“Um, I dunno, Shell. I’ve never been very into that kind of thing.”

“Chicken.”

“I am not chicken.
Just cautious after the abseil.”
I think I had every right to be cautious after that debacle.

“Cluck, cluck, cluck.”
Shelly’s eyes sparkled with merriment as she took a sip from her drink.

“Okay, I’ll call in when I’ve finished this sandwich.”

“Great, you can give me a lift back to the office before they find out I’ve taken an extra ten minutes lunch.”

We hurried through the rest of our food and I dropped Shelly off outside her office before carrying on to the street where I’d seen the hypnotherapy practice. Luckily there was a space at the kerb right outside, so I parked my car, took a deep breath and walked in before I could change my mind.

The small modern reception area with its cream walls, squeaky-clean ash laminate flooring and glass and chrome furniture was in stark contrast to the rather elderly red brick terrace that housed it. A buzzer had sounded as I’d entered the room but there was no one in sight. I stood next to the glass coffee table complete with neatly stacked magazines and waited for someone to appear.

No one came. I searched around to see if there was some kind of bell. Nothing, the other door in the room was marked with a sign saying ‘private’. I waited for a minute more, wondering if I should go and try the handle or knock the whole idea on the head and run.

My inner chicken was about to take over, but before I could sneak out the door opened. A petite bird-like woman in a bright blue sari entered the room.

“Do you have an appointment?” She tilted her head to one side as she posed the question sending glitter rays from her delicate, dangling ear rings sparkling around the room.

“Um, no I don’t. I erm wondered if I could be seen quite urgently.” I wasn’t quite sure how hypnotherapy was supposed to work, if it was a one off thing or if you had to come more than once.

Her eyebrows rose at my statement.

“I’m happy to pay.” I hoped my bank manager would
be understanding
if I went over my overdraft limit – again.

The Asian woman’s brows raised a fraction higher. “I am Doctor Setti, what is the problem that needs such urgent treatment?” She placed a tiny amount of emphasis on the word urgent.

“I’m afraid of snakes and spiders and on Friday I have to be on television handling them.”

“This Friday?”
Her brows vanished completely under her hair and crinkle lines appeared around the bindi mark on her forehead.

“Yes.” I took a tiny step back towards the front door. This was a stupid idea. I should never have listened to Shelly.

Doctor Setti frowned. “Normally treatment for this kind of phobia takes several sessions with gradual desensitisation.”

I edged back a little bit more. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, it was a silly idea.”

“We can try.” Doctor Setti held up her hand like a traffic policeman making a stop signal. “Today is Wednesday. We can do one session today, one tomorrow and a final one immediately before you have to handle the animals.”

“Okay.” God knows how much this was going to cost me. If only I hadn’t spent so much last month getting my car through the MOT test.

“You are free now?”

Technically I was supposed to be back at the radio station turning in Fred’s segment and editing it into some kind of shape ready for broadcast. “Sure.”

Doctor Setti smiled and held the inner door open for me to pass through.

I stepped past her into a narrow corridor.

“Go right ahead.” She followed me, closing the door to the reception area.

I carried on into a large treatment room with white painted walls and a black leather treatment couch. Prints hung on the walls of scenes from the Greek islands, all blue skies, white villas and crimson potted geraniums. The faint smell of antiseptic mixed with a stronger scent of lavender to tickle my nose.

Doctor Setti waved me towards the couch whilst she seated herself at a small desk. She settled into her seat and produced a pen and pad from the desk drawer. I perched on the edge of the couch wondering if I was supposed to sit or lie back. Either way I felt ridiculous.

“Formalities first.”
Doctor Setti went through a list of questions about my name, address, age, health, who my doctor was, allergies etc. I noticed her pen slowed for a fraction when I gave my name and when I answered her question about allergies. It wasn’t until I answered her question about any recent hospital treatment that she lifted her head and studied me carefully.

“You are the young lady who was in the paper?”

“Yes.” If I’d known all it took to become famous was an ill-timed collapse in a public place I’d have done it years ago.

“You have a fear of heights, too?”

“Yes.” She probably thought I was a basket case.

“Hmm mmm.”
She returned her attention to her note pad to scribble down my answer.

The formalities dispensed with, she set her pad aside and crossed the room. To my surprise she picked up my wrist and checked my pulse before looking into my eyes.

“Is everything okay?” My pulse was probably a hundred and eighty beats a minute I was so nervous.

“I think so. Hypnotherapy is a very safe and effective form of treatment but I am always very cautious.”

I figured that was a good thing. It showed she was professional.

“As I said before, usually, an extreme fear of something like snakes or spiders would need a course of treatments with gradual desensitisation.
Probably five or six sessions with time in between each one for you to work on visualisation therapy.
I’m not sure that I can guarantee how effective this will be.” She sounded doubtful.

“Anything that will help, even if it’s only a little bit, would be marvellous.”

“Hmm.
Which scares you most, spiders or snakes?”

“Snakes.
I’ve always hated them. I’m not sure why. ”

“We will focus on snakes then.”

I waited expectantly for her to produce a gold watch or something ready to dangle it in front of my eyes like they do on TV.

“You will lie back and make yourself comfortable.” Doctor Setti flapped her hands at me making the folds of her sari ripple like plumage on some beautiful exotic bird.

I obeyed dutifully, leaning my head against the leather headrest of the couch while the Doctor moved her chair to sit beside me. A gentle regular ticking sound caught my attention and I turned my head to discover she had started a large metronome swinging on her desk.

“So then, you are comfortable?”

I nodded.

“We will begin.”