Free Radio Gaga by Nell Dixon

airing cupboard in the hall. “Mummy, I meant it when I said I was fine. I hope you haven’t been filling Ben’s head with rubbish about me.”
    Hah! I was pretty sure that was a given but I thought I ought to at least try to stop her from interfering quite so much in my life. It was probably much too late where Ben was concerned, which was a pity as he was very cute. Something about the way he looked at me sent my insides all mushy.
    “Don’t be silly, Chloe. He was concerned about you, that’s all. I understand he’s single too. He might be quite a catch.”
    “Mother.”
    She finished drying up the cups and folded the tea towel. “Oh don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of interfering in your love life.”
    Yeah right. Her stay promised to be a long two weeks.
     
     

Chapter Nine
     
     
    Shelly arrived just as my mother started trying to persuade me to turn off the evening soaps in favour of an educational programme she’d found on one of the free view channels. I knew from experience that this would be the thin end of the wedge. Left unchecked, by the end of the fortnight my TV would be in a cupboard and I’d be force-fed a diet of mind improving programmes courtesy of Radio Four.
    After a day spent working with Steph, my mind didn’t want to expand. It wanted chocolate, a glass of wine and some Londoners shouting at one another in a pub.
    “Hello, Michelle.” My mother was the only person who still called Shelly, ‘Michelle’. Well, apart from Shelly’s own mother, and then it was the full version, ‘Michelle Elizabeth Clark’, which invariably meant she was in big trouble.
    “Hello, Mrs Lark, um, I mean Melody.”
    Mother prefers my friends to call her by her first name. Her surname reminds her too much of my father apparently. She’d go back to her maiden name but Melody Mould wouldn’t really be an improvement.
    I fidgeted on the sofa while Shelly received the third degree from my mother about why I’d been taking Shelly’s tablets. Ten minutes later we managed to escape into the kitchen on the pretext of making a cup of tea.
    “You have to help me get out of here for an hour before I kill her.” I kept my voice low so it wouldn’t carry into the lounge.
    “You always want to kill her whenever you spend any time with her.” Shelly helped herself to a custard cream from the biscuit tin.
    “I know, but it’s your fault she’s here.”
    Shelly rolled her eyes, guessing -- correctly -- I was attempting to guilt trip her. “I think she’s engrossed in that programme she’s watching. We can hang out in here for a while.”
    I opened the kitchen door a crack and peeked into the lounge. Shelly was right, my mother had changed channels and was apparently absorbed in some documentary on climate change.
    “Okay, grab a chair and I’ll show you my list of ideas for my new radio feature.” I opened the kitchen drawer and pulled out my notepad.
    Shelly took a seat and leaned across to peer at my writing sprinkling biscuit crumbs over the page.
    “Oops, sorry.” She brushed them away quickly as I frowned at her.
    “This is what I’ve got so far; making chocolate, learning street dance – I thought maybe I could get to meet Louis Spence – anyway, have one of the pedicures with the fish, act as an extra on a costume drama or a soap, swim with dolphins, work at the safari park for a day and learn to skate. I always fancied that especially since Dancing on Ice.”
    Shelly took another biscuit from the barrel and nibbled thoughtfully at a corner. “I think they’re great but won’t they want something, well a bit more, um, physically challenging from you?”
    “Ice skating will be physical and the street dance and dolphin swim.” I had the uncomfortable feeling that she might have a point, especially if Steph got involved.
    “All you can do is suggest it and see what Merv says.”
    I replaced the lid on the biscuits and moved them out of Shelly’s reach. She had apparently forgotten that