Radio Gaga (12 page)

Shelly stumbled into the lounge the next morning in her pyjamas as I tugged an old pair of ankle boots over my socks.

“You’re up early?” she yawned, blinking blearily at me.

“I have to go and meet Fred at the allotments. Thanks to Merv I’m working on a Saturday morning.”

“Is Ben going with you?” She flopped down onto the sofa.

“I think so. He was going to check when the police might be round to talk to him about his car.”

“That was so weird. Do you think it was someone who didn’t like him speaking out about his army experiences? Or do you think he might be right about your stalker?”

“I don’t know. It could be that they would have damaged my car too and we interrupted them.” I didn’t want to think it was the guy who’d written me a poem and left me flowers.

“Creepy.” Shelly shuddered.

“How did you and Tash get on at the club after we’d gone? Did you find Mr Right?”

She held a hand in front of her mouth as another yawn engulfed her. “No, it was pretty hopeless. Tash met a guy but I got landed with his loser friend who kept telling me how much he missed his ex-girlfriend and what a bitch she’d been to him.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

“So it was a washout then?” I knew that feeling. I don’t think I’d ever been more frustrated in my life than I had been last night when my assignation with Ben had been so rudely interrupted. I allowed myself to drift off into a rather lovely daydream.

“About as much as your night.
I take you and Ben didn’t, um, get together?” Shelly grinned at me, a knowing look in her eyes.

“Nothing, thanks to the car vandal.” I finished tucking my jeans inside the tops of my boots. I was glad I was bent over my boots so she couldn’t see the scarlet flush creeping up my face.

“I was all set to spend the night with Tash to give you two some space.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Well, I think that the incident with the car may have cooled anything we might have had going. He has some hang-ups about my ambitions to become famous. He hated it at the club last night when people kept coming over to me.”

Shelly picked at the corner of her thumbnail, lifting the edge of her nail polish the way she always did when she was busy thinking. “I noticed he wasn’t exactly the life and soul of the party.”

I sighed remembering my missed opportunity. Somehow I had a nasty feeling that I might not get another shot with him. My mobile buzzed as if he’d picked up on my thoughts.

‘
police
coming midday.
U ready for pics with Fred?’

I sent back a 'yes' and collected my coat and bag. “That was Ben. I’m off to the allotment.”

“I might be gone when you get back. Mum is making noises about me helping with the grocery shop,” Shelly said.

“I’ll call you later then. I’ll let you know how things go with the police.”

She stood and gave me a hug. “If Ben doesn’t invite you out tonight maybe we could go for a drink?”

“Okay.” There was a knock on my door. “That’ll be Ben.”

I left Shelly to sort
herself
out and went to open the door. Ben stood in the hall. A light layer of stubble covered his chin and he looked as if he hadn’t had much sleep.

“Okay, are you ready to go?” He had his camera case in his hand.

“We’d better go in my car.” Ben didn’t exactly look delighted to see me. Maybe he’d drunk more than I’d realised last night and regretted our bit of pash. He certainly didn’t look as if he was likely to be inclined to carry on where we’d left off.
Mores the pity.

“Did you contact Fred?” He folded himself into the passenger seat of my car and altered the seat, pushing it right back to try and get more leg room. He muttered and bounced in the seat making me fear for the rusty floor pan of my car. If he bounced too hard we’d be heading for the allotments Fred Flintstone style.

“Yes, he’s on the site every Saturday.” I knew he was cross about his car but someone had definitely got out of the wrong side of the bed.

“Humph.”

I didn’t bother to dignify that with a reply. Instead I turned off the direct route to the allotments and headed for the café.

“Where are we going? I need to get these pictures done.” Ben glared at me.

“I’ll be two minutes.” I parked up and left him to stew inside the car while I ran into the café.

“Here.” I handed him a takeout cup on my return.

“What’s this?”

I slipped the car back into gear and set off for the allotments. “It’s coffee for you. I think you missed a shot of caffeine this morning.”

He leaned back in his seat and glowered at me but he didn’t refuse the coffee.

There were a few people at the allotments when we pulled up. At least it was a nice dry morning even if it was still quite chilly. I scrambled out of the car and waited while Ben hauled himself and his gear from the front seat. Fred spotted us and stumped along the path between the plots to let us onto the site.

“Mornin’.”
He nodded his head in greeting as we slipped through the gate. He frowned at my boots and shook his head.

“What? These are the best ones I could find for this.”

“You’d do better with some steel toe caps,” Fred declared as we arrived at his plot.

There was something suspiciously like a smirk on Ben’s lips which he hastily camouflaged by sipping the coffee I’d bought him. I was tempted to snatch it back; I could have used a slurp of caffeine myself.

Fred handed me a fork and a pair of gardening gloves. “We’ll start by preparing the ground. Just watch you don’t spear your toes in them daft shoes.”

I decided I didn’t like Fred any more as he led the way to a weed-infested, boggy bit of mud at the back of his plot. Ben set up his camera while Fred instructed me in the art of weed clearance and soil aeration.

Apparently I required lessons in composting too. Fred almost had a heart attack when I inadvertently added some weed, which to me looked like all the other weeds, to his compost bin. Ben snapped shots of me wobbling on the fork like a demented pogo stick master and some of me staggering along with the wheelbarrow full of weeds.

He also took some video footage of Fred lecturing me with sage garden advice to put on the radio station website. After an hour and a half I was knackered and fed up. Finally Ben decided he’d got enough footage and Fred thought I’d done enough for my first stint.

“Mebbe I’ll make summat of you yet.”

I took that as praise from Fred. My boots were well and truly ruined. Mud had seeped between the sole and the upper lining and now my toes were squelching inside my socks. Ben stayed talking to Fred for a moment while I made my way off the site back to my car. I was engrossed in my attempts to scrape the thick red clay from my footwear on the kerb when I realised I had company.

“It was a good night last night, wasn’t it?” Kevin stood next to my car dressed in his usual hoodie and baggy jeans.

“Um, yes.”
I looked around for Ben but he was nowhere in sight.

“I like clubbing.” He shuffled from one foot to the other as if about to break out into a dance there and then.

“Were you there with friends?” Where was Ben?

“No, I like going on my own. I thought if you wanted to go again then maybe…”

“Sorry, we’ll have to hurry if we’re going to be back in time to meet the police.” Ben appeared at my side. I could have kissed him with relief.

“Sorry, Kevin, I have to go. Some idiot damaged Ben’s car last night and we have to talk to the police.” I jumped into the driver’s seat. That had been a narrow escape. It had sounded very much like Kevin had been about to ask me to go on a date.

Ben eased Kevin out of the way to join me inside the car. For a split second I thought I saw Kevin’s face contort with absolute rage, but it vanished so swiftly I wasn’t certain. I didn’t wait for Ben to fasten his seat belt before pulling away with a cheerful wave to Kevin as we left. The incident left me feeling freaked out and I wondered if Kevin could be my mysterious bringer of flowers or the vandal.

“Wasn’t that the weird bloke who was hounding you at the club last night?” Ben struggled into his seat belt as I gunned the car around the corner.

“Kevin? Yes. I think you just saved me from having to turn him down for a date.”

“Humph, you don’t think he could be connected with the damage to my car?” Ben tried to turn his head in a vain attempt to get a last glimpse at my unwanted admirer.

“I doubt it. He was still at the club when we left, I think.” At least, I thought he was.

Ben didn’t look convinced. “Do you think he’s the one behind the poetry and the flowers? He seems to keep turning up everywhere you go.”

Unease prickled at the base of my neck. “I don’t know. He could be.” I drew the car to a halt in my usual parking spot at the front of the house.

Ben dug in his pocket and checked the screen on his phone. “The police should be here in half an hour.”

“Enough time for me to change my shoes, then.” My feet felt disgusting.

Ben grinned.
“Sounds as if Fred was right about the boots.”

“Very funny.”
 
I squelched my way to the front door. “Do you want me to come up to your flat when I’ve changed my shoes?” I assumed he wanted me to talk to the police as well.

“I’ll leave the door on the latch. Tash has gone out.”

I waited for some clue to whether we might pick up where we’d left off last night.
A hug or a kiss, maybe.

“See you in a minute.” He turned and clumped away upstairs.

I decided to take that as a 'no'.

Shelly had left the flat all neat and tidy. I binned my boots then peeled off my socks and threw those away too. It didn’t seem worth clogging up my washing machine with mud for the sake of a pair of ninety-nine pence socks from Primark.

Once I’d washed my feet and changed into clean clothes I headed upstairs to Ben’s flat. I had to admit both my ego and my heart were somewhat bruised by his apparent cooling towards me. I mean, less than twelve hours ago he’d been quick enough to get my knickers off, and now, nothing. My cheeks burned as I recalled collecting my discarded underwear from my hallway.

A young, attractive policewoman was already ensconced in Ben’s lounge when I arrived.

“Tess, this is my neighbour, Chloe. I was downstairs at Chloe’s flat when we heard the noise outside.” Ben made the introduction as I took a seat on his sofa trying not to be jealous that he and Tess appeared to be on first name terms already.

Tess ran through the notes she’d made already, asking Ben a few more supplementary questions and asking me to confirm some of the points he had raised. I told her everything I’d heard.

“And is there anyone who you think may have done this?
Any one with a grudge against you?
A neighbourly dispute?”
Tess frowned at her notebook.

Ben leaned back in his seat and looked expectantly at me.

“Um, Ben thought it might have been this bloke who’s been leaving me flowers and poems.” I scowled at Ben.

Tess perked up. “Go on. Do you have any of the things he’s left? Or do you know who he is?”

I pulled the card with the verse from my pocket and passed it over to Tess. “Well, he’s no Wordsworth, is he?”

“There’s a kid called Kevin that keeps turning up wherever Chloe goes. He was at the nightclub when we were there.”

I frowned at Ben. Kevin might be a bit weird but I couldn’t picture him trashing Ben’s car.

“You don’t know his surname?” Tess asked.

I shook my head.

“Pity.”

She asked a few more questions, and after she’d declined a cup of tea, Ben saw her out.

“Have you spoken to your insurers?” I asked when he came back in.

“Yep, first thing this morning.”
He stood, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and I realised he wanted me to leave.

“I’m sorry about your car, but it could just have been a random vandalism thing, you know.” I scrambled up from the sofa.

“Maybe.”

Clearly he didn’t think it was. He thought it was connected to me.

The rest of my weekend was a washout. Shelly’s mum kept her busy and our night out never materialised. Instead of a sexy Saturday and Sunday with Ben I ended up with frozen pizza for one from Mr Hassan’s shop and a marathon viewing of my boxed set of Friends DVD’s.
Which helped my mood but not my libido.

Merv was in a suspiciously good mood when I arrived at the radio station on Monday morning. He didn’t even tell me off for being ten minutes late.

“What’s happened to him?” I asked Tracey as I shuffled through to my desk.

“I’m not sure.” She shook her head as Merv strutted down the corridor humming tunelessly as he walked.

“It’s not natural.”

Tracey snorted. “Too right it’s not. Get ready, you can bet we’ll find out what he’s planning soon enough.”

My in-tray was full of the usual crap from Steph, plus the info on the circus school. I’d been trying not to think about circus school. Everything about it was wrong; from high wire walking to clowns, and I doubted I’d be much good at juggling. One of my nicknames during my brief job on the deli counter at the supermarket had been 'Butterfingers'. I pushed the lurid coloured circus pamphlet to the bottom of the pile.

Steph’s show was about to come off air by the time I’d set up some interviews and ploughed through all the rubbish she’d dumped in my tray. I wandered out into the reception area to grab a coffee from the vending machine and walked straight into Ben.

“Morning.”

“What brings you here?” If I sounded abrupt it was because I was so surprised to see him. Especially as he had his photography gear with him, so it didn’t look as if he had stopped by on a social call.

His forehead creased in a slight frown. “My editor wanted me to capture the good news of course.”

The twitch at the corner of his mouth suggested he was barely suppressing a smile.

“What good news?” This had to be connected to Merv’s strange behaviour.

Before he could reply Merv bustled into reception accompanied by a very smug looking Steph and several of the technical staff. I couldn’t help noticing she had her full make-up on and a form pink fitted top that showed off her cleavage.

“Ah, everyone’s here, marvellous.” He beamed around at our bewildered faces and I realised he had a bottle of champagne in his hand. Rather like Merv himself it was one of those bottles that looked flashy but was actually cheap. “Ben, I think this would be better outside?”

Tracey raised her eyebrows in a silent question. I shook my head. I was as baffled as she was. Merv led the way outside accompanied by Steph. The rest of us trailed along behind them. Merv arranged himself and Steph under the Live it
Up
sign on the wall. We all stood in a semi-circle watching him and speculating in subdued mumbles as to the cause of the impromptu photo call.

“Friends and colleagues, I’m delighted to announce my engagement to Stephanie.” He took hold of Steph’s hand and sunlight bounced off the enormous rock on her engagement finger.

“Blooming heck!”
Tracey breathed in my ear. “Do you think it’s real or did he get it off one of those TV auction sites?”

Luckily her comment was drowned out by the muted congratulations of our fellow workers. Merv cracked open the champagne and Tracey scurried back into the building to retrieve the paper cups she kept in a cupboard under the front desk. Cups duly found and part filled with fizz we formed a semi-circle around Merv and Steph whilst Ben took some shots for the paper and the Live it Up website.

Steph smirked and simpered next to Merv while we all tried to look thrilled. A dozen or so shots later Ben declared himself satisfied with the results. We were then allowed to drink our luke-warm fizz before returning to our posts.

“Steph didn’t drink her champagne,” Tracey whispered.

“I’m not surprised, it’s bloody awful.” I tipped the dregs of my cup onto a nearby rose bush and hoped it wouldn’t die.

“No! Don’t you get it? That’s what this is all about.” She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice.

“What?” She’d lost me.

“It’s obvious. There’s a little Merv on the way, you mark my words.”

I stared at her, aghast. Now it wasn’t just the cheap plonk that made me feel nauseous.

“You’re kidding me.”

She shook her head. “The last week she’s come in every morning looking green around the gills and, let’s
face
it, Merv is hardly Mr Commitment.”

I looked back to where Steph was still proudly flashing her ring to one of the producers. There was no sign of a baby bump yet. “You could be right.”

Ben caught us up. “Nothing says romance like cheap champagne and a photo call for the press.”

“Tracey thinks Steph is pregnant.”

Ben glanced round to look at Steph.
“Hmm, hard to tell.”

“At least Merv didn’t make us all dress up in those wretched yellow sweatshirts and caps.” Tracey mused.

“Only because he didn’t think of it.”
I tried to imagine Merv and Steph as a married couple with a mini Merv in a pram. All three of them in matching
Live it Up
yellow tops and sun caps.

Ben grinned and I suspected he had guessed my thoughts.

“No one else could pull off that yellow top the way you did, Chloe.”

Tracey converted her giggle to a cough when she caught my eye. She mumbled something about being needed inside and scurried back to her post behind the reception desk.

“Did you hear anything else about your car?”

Ben and I paused in the sunshine.

“The insurance are sorting out a loan car while mine goes to the body shop.
Nothing from the police.”

“I didn’t see you at the weekend.” Me and my big mouth, now he would think I monitored his movements or something.

“I took Tash with me to visit the parents.”

I guess that would explain why it had been so quiet upstairs. Steph and Merv were coming towards us and I didn’t want to get caught up with them. “I’d better get back to work.”

“Have you heard from your mum since she went back to
Scotland
?”

That would be a big fat 'no'. I shook my head. “I expect she’s busy with her job and her wedding plans.” I swallowed the hurt that rose in my throat. My mother hadn’t even kept her promise to let me know that she’d arrived home safely.

“If you’re not doing anything tonight you’re welcome to join me for supper. I make a mean spag bog.” He fiddled with his camera bag as he made the suggestion.

“What about Tash?” My pulse skipped with excitement despite my reservations over how our plans had gone astray after the nightclub.

“She’s staying with Mum and Dad for a couple of days, to see how it goes.” He glanced up at me, his gaze locking into mine so my breath hitched in my throat.

“Supper sounds lovely, what time do you want me?” Oh hell, that hadn’t come out right at all.

His mouth relaxed into a smile and the wicked glint appeared in his eyes. “Sevenish?”

Merv and Steph were almost level with us as Ben dipped his head to murmur, “And I always want you,” in my ear as he dropped a kiss on my hot cheek.

He strode away towards the car park before I could recover my wits enough to reply.

“Why Chloe, you’re looking rather red, you really shouldn’t stay out in the sun with your complexion.” Steph clung to Merv’s arm.

“Do stop messing about, Lark, haven’t you got work to do?” Merv frowned. Now the photo call was over, his good mood had vanished as fast as the bubbles in his cheap plonk.

“On my way.
Oh, have you set a date for the wedding yet?” I couldn’t resist the question. Part of me was still pondering Tracey’s pregnancy theory, the other part of me wondered if the engagement was a publicity stunt.

“Nothing definite, but we’re quite spontaneous people so I expect Merv will arrange something romantic.” Steph’s fingers tightened on his arm.

“Quite.” Merv agreed with his fiancée.

I hurried back inside and texted Shelly the latest goss, plus a plea to borrow her blue top for my supper date with Ben. Shelly agreed with Tracey’s theory when I stopped by her house on my way back from work.

“It would be so typical of Steph. Do you think they’ll head for Vegas or somewhere like that for a wedding?” Shelly asked.

I hadn’t given it any thought. “Dunno.”

“Then Merv could get away without having to invite you all and save a ton of money.” She carefully folded the top she had promised to lend me. “Don’t get any red wine or spag bol sauce on this.”

“I’ll be careful.” I thought about Merv’s wedding. “Steph would want a big party though. She’d have to get a new frock and things to lord it over us mere underlings.”

“Yeah, big fat gypsy weddings would have nothing on her, and Merv would expect wedding presents.” Shelly added and we both burst out laughing.

I was still in a good mood when I arrived back at the flat to get ready for my date. Conscious of the time, I scooted into the hall almost missing the pile of post on my doormat. There were two bills, a small envelope with a Scottish postmark and another envelope with my name on the front.

I opened the one from my mother first. It had to be from her. Sure enough it was a ‘save the date’ card, informing me that the wedding had been booked for the first of September. I carried it into the kitchen and attached to the fridge with the ‘I heart
Scotland
’ note holder my mother had placed there on her last visit.

My heart sank as I studied the mystery envelope. I didn’t recognise the writing and I had a creepy feeling that it could be from my mystery admirer. Sure enough as I opened it, tiny pieces of red, glittery heart-shaped confetti spilled out all over my kitchen floor.

Muttering rude words under my breath I eased a small piece of pink card from the envelope.

“Darling Chloe, please be true, and don’t break my heart in two. One day soon our hearts will entwine and I will make you mine.”

More dodgy poetry and still no signature.
I flipped the card over to see if there was anything on the other side but found nothing. Now what was I supposed to do? If I mentioned it to Ben he’d insist on handing it to the police and my supper date would turn into an argument.
But if I didn’t do anything about it then what?

I scooped up as much of the party confetti as I could and dumped it in the bin. It was already six thirty and I wasn’t showered, changed or anything. Ignoring the card I fled down the hall to my bathroom. Right now I needed to focus on my hot date with Ben.

For the next thirty minutes I ran around my flat like someone demented, hunting out shoes, underwear and debating the merits of my one and only skirt versus my best jeans. I’d just finished straightening my hair when the phone rang. I almost didn’t answer as it was seven fifteen and I thought that was a good sevenish time to knock on Ben’s door.

“Hello, is that Chloe Lark?” I didn’t recognise the female voice.

“Um, this is Chloe.” I hoped it wasn’t someone trying to sell me something. I always feel bad when I say no, even though I don’t want to subscribe to their charity, answer their survey or have my loft lagged.
Which is daft as I don’t have a loft.

“Chloe, I hope you don’t mind me contacting you on your mobile but I’m from Quirkus TV productions.”

The roaring sound in my ears drowned out the next few words. My knees wobbled and I sank down on the arm of the sofa clutching the phone.

“We loved the segment you did at the zoo and wondered if you and your agent would be interested in meeting us to discuss a possible future project.”

Agent?
What agent? My brain went into meltdown and I hunted around the room for some paper and a pen to take down the details. This was the kind of offer I’d been dreaming about since forever.

The only paper I could see was the poem from my stalker. I grabbed that and scribbled down the details of the TV Company on the back. By the time I’d agreed a time and date to meet them my head was buzzing with excitement.

I sent Shelly a quick text telling her about the latest development in my day, grabbed my keys and went haring off up the stairs to Ben’s flat. The faint smell of food that met me on the landing made my tummy rumble. I took a deep breath to calm myself down and rang his doorbell. I longed to tell someone about my exciting phone call.