Free Radio Gaga by Nell Dixon Page B

I was at least a little prepared? I mean, I could do some research and…”
    Merv didn’t wait for me to finish speaking. “No problem with that, Lark. I’ve already set the wheels in motion for tomorrow. Just get back to the station before nine thirty, none of your usual faffing about and being late.”
    Before I could dispute his last comment he’d hung up. I didn’t faff about, well not much. Certainly no more than anyone else, and I did try to be on time for things, it was simply that sometimes events seemed to conspire against me.
    Events were conspiring against me now. Why did someone famous never want me to interview them? Why did my interviews always have to be with somebody who usually smelt of mothballs and cat pee and have to take place in the middle of some muddy and godforsaken spot? And Mr Hassan thought my life was glamorous.
    * * *
    I woke the next morning before the alarm. My mother had been awake for ages pottering about the flat. The bumping and scraping sounds coming from the lounge had sounded ominous. Sure enough when I dragged myself out of bed I discovered Mum had been busy rearranging my furniture.
    Clutching my dressing gown closer to me I stumbled on into the kitchen. I needed coffee, preferably strong and black with lots of sugar. It was going to be another one of those days. Mum was already showered and dressed in her usual tailored skirt and silky blouse.
    “Oh darling, you’re going to be late.” She took in my dishevelled just-woken-up appearance with a slight frown of distaste.
    “Loads of time.” Yawning, I stuck a piece of bread in the toaster and took a plate out from the cupboard.
    “White bread will make you bloat.” My mother smoothed her skirt over her sickeningly narrow hips with a self-satisfied air.
    “Why have you moved my furniture round?” My toast pinged up from the toaster and I tried to catch it without burning my fingers.
    Mum’s nose wrinkled as she watched me slather butter onto my toast. “I wanted to surprise you. That room is so dreary; I thought a little change might perk it up. Perhaps a few new cushions or a nice print for the wall would help.”
    “I like my flat the way it is.” Scooping up my plate I headed off towards my room to get ready for work.
    She followed me out into the hall. “Wear something pretty.”
    Yep, right, I was in radio not television and I had a feeling that wearing a nice dress and heels might be wasted on Fred. Twenty minutes later I was showered, dressed in my usual jeans and tee shirt and ready to go and find Freely Street allotments.
    Freely Street turned out to be fairly close to the radio station. I unloaded my recording equipment from the car and hoped the ground wouldn’t be too muddy. For once I was early, traces of grey damp mist swirled across the earth as I picked my way carefully along the narrow path between the plots, looking for Fred.
    The site was eerily deserted and if it hadn’t have been for the gates being unlocked to allow access onto the allotments I would have thought that no one had been there.
    I paused in the middle of the site to peer hopefully at the faded brown wood sheds and bright blue water butts along the edges trying to find Fred.
    “Are you waiting to meet someone?”
    I leapt about six feet into the air as a male voice sounded in my ear and a hand touched my shoulder.
    “Oh my God, you scared the crap out of me.” My heart thumped so hard and rapidly against the wall of my chest I thought I was about to die. As my pulse gradually slowed down I realised the oversized grey hoodie was familiar. “Hey, didn’t I meet you the other day? Um, Keith? Kevin?”
    “Kevin. You signed an autograph for me.” He grinned shyly at me.
    “Of course. I came here to meet someone called Fred Hardcastle. An older chap with a flat cap?” Kevin’s openly adoring expression unnerved me.
    “Yeah, he’s down the bottom.” Kevin turned on the path and led the way. I hesitated for a second before