Take a Chance on Me (18 page)

‘
K
iki Dee and Elton John
there with that classic, “Don't go bacon my heart. I couldn't if I fried”
or something similar. Righty-ho, it's time for joke of the week. Golly, it comes around quickly, doesn't it? Our winner this week is Geoff Milligan in ward twelve with this little gem: “
My son's been asking me for a pet spider for his birthday, so I went to our local pet shop and they were seventy pounds. Too expensive, I thought. I can get one cheaper off the web
.” Ba-boom! Geoff, thank you very much. You made Mercedes laugh the most on the Mercedes-ometer that measures how funny a joke is. In case you want to know how funny that was, here's Mercedes.'

Charlie cued in Mercedes's laughter. It rang out merrily, making Charlie smile.

‘So, if you want to be the winner of joke of the week next week and win a packet of Minstrel chocolates thanks to the generosity of the hospital shop, then post your best gag in the City Hospital Radio box at reception, or hand it to one of the presenters when they do their request rounds.

‘Onto our children's television theme tune feature now. Each week, we hunt out and compile a list of tunes to bring back memories of television shows you might have watched as a child. We asked around the studio and discovered Mercedes humming along to
The Magic Roundabout
, George knew all the lyrics to
Spongebob Squarepants
and Sam asked if we could play the theme tune to
Muffin the Mule
. Here's a few for you. Can you remember the names of the shows?'

Charlie started the tracks up and pressed the button to talk to Mercedes.

‘So, you didn't send me the inflatable man?'

‘Not me. That's a weird thing to do, isn't it and I'm not weird,' said Mercedes. ‘Only a bit weird. Could have been Rob. He's weird. Or that Jake. He's weird too. Or Susannah…'

‘Yeah. Guess so. I should keep it. It's the closest I'll get to a man.'

‘What about Liam?'

‘What about him?'

‘Isn't he divine?'

‘Liam's very nice. He's also
very
young. He would have no idea who Roobarb and Custard were. He'd probably even struggle recognising Scooby Doo. My guess is he was brought up on a diet of Pokémon. Consequently, he's too young for me. He definitely won't appreciate my back catalogue of
Dallas
DVDs. Have you been trying to play matchmaker?'

‘I thought it was worth a go. He's got the best six-pack I've ever seen. Does it matter if he's a little younger than you? Think of the fun you could have with him!'

‘I'd feel dirty, and not in a good way. I'm at least twenty years older than him. That would make me a cougar. How old do you have to be to be a cougar? It's forty, isn't it? What do you call a woman older than a cougar who dates younger men?'

‘Smilodon, I think,' scoffed Mercedes.

‘Smilodon?'

‘Sabre-toothed tiger. That's pretty old. 'Bout the same age as you.'

Charlie wagged her finger at Mercedes. ‘Funny lady.'

‘You'd better stick to your inflatable man. At least he'll sit quietly beside you while you watch old movies together and won't complain about your wrinkles or your grey hairs.'

‘Okay, okay, I get the point. However, Liam is not my type.'

‘Well, what is your type?'

Charlie closed her eyes and imagined Jake holding her arm. Jake? No. He was now Jake the jerk. But no one else came to mind. ‘I don't know, Mercedes. I think I'm beyond help.'

‘No one is beyond help. Not even a hopeless case like you.'

Charlie stuck out her tongue.

‘Now who's being childish? Are you sure Liam's the one who's too young?'

Charlie shook her head and, signalling she was going back on air, disconnected.

‘
O
n the sixth of August
, 2009, while diving at the Blue Planet Aquarium, Ellesmere Port, Cheshire, thirty-year-old Robert Bennett had his hand bitten by a captive three metre (that's ten foot in old money) sand tiger shark. I hope they've got proper safety measures in place for Charlie. Sounds quite dangerous,' Art remarked, reading from the iPad.

‘Shh!' warned Patricia as the door opened and Charlie entered. She took the iPad from Art, slid it under the counter and headed towards the craft shop. ‘How did your diving lesson go?'

‘Yeah, good thanks, Patricia. Art, the cakes are still in my car. I couldn't get a parking spot near the café today. There are cars everywhere.'

‘That'll be thanks to the event going on upstairs. Some top journalist's giving a talk about writing and he's got about twenty-five people up there listening to him,' said Art. ‘And, he wants a word with you during the coffee break – something about doing a piece on your challenges. Should get you some publicity. I said you'd be happy to talk to him. That's okay with you, isn't it?'

‘Of course it is. Twenty-five. That's the most we've had here.'

‘I know. It's great. None of them have been before. I'm hoping they'll become regulars. I offered coffee and tea to them but they're happy with water and soft drinks for now. They'll be coming down at ten-thirty for a break, cakes and coffee. Hopefully, they'll stay for some lunch after the event,' he said, rubbing his hands together. ‘Right, I'll get Patricia to look after the café and come and give you a hand with those cakes. I'll need them for all these hungry people.'

It was ten-thirty on the dot when Charlie heard the scraping of chairs and thudding of feet above. The budding writers were descending. Patricia joined Charlie and was prepared, notebook in hand, to guide the customers towards free tables.

The new customers soon flooded into the room in small groups, where they spread out and examined the menus. Charlie was about to take an order for a table of middle-aged women who were discussing the pros and cons of self-publishing when Art called her over to the counter.

‘The journalist is waiting upstairs for you. Go have your interview. We're on top of it here. Could you take him up his coffee and this piece of lemon cake?'

‘Sure,' she replied. She removed her apron, picked up the coffee and cake from the counter and went upstairs. She knocked at the door and went in.

‘Hi, I'm Charlie. Art said you would like to interview me about the hospital radio station.'

A man dressed in jeans and a white shirt was standing with his back to her, looking out of the window at the street below. He turned to face her, a broad grin on his face.

‘Hello Charlie. How are you? All ready to face the sharks?' said Jake.

‘You,' she gasped. ‘You're the journalist who wants to interview me?'

‘That's me,' he replied. ‘That cake looks delicious. Is this one of your famous cakes I heard about this morning from your boss? He spent ten minutes telling me what an ace cake maker you are. You are indeed a lady of many talents.'

Charlie gripped the plate and cup tightly, irritation building at the memory from the night in the pub. Her face though remained composed.

Jake cleared his throat. ‘I thought yours would make a great little story. You see, recently I started working for the
Evening Gazette
. I'm a last minute replacement on this though,' he added, pointing at the empty spaces around the table. ‘The journalist who should have been here is sick, so I stepped in. I'm not sure I've given them the right advice, but I did my best.' He paused and ran his hands through his hair.

Charlie was surprised that such a simple gesture could be so sexy. She erased those thoughts immediately. She was not going to be suckered in by this man.

He continued, ‘My editor wants me to focus on
good news
stories taking place in the area. I thought about you straight away. I guess it was the kazoo that did it for me.' He paused again, his smile widening. ‘Your story is perfect. Lovely lady does crazy challenges to keep a little-known hospital radio going. I wanted to hear more about it from you. It'll get you some coverage and probably bring in some more funds for the station.' He leant against the table, gauging her reaction.

She wasn't sure if his eyes were mocking her or not, but now she was getting angry. She slammed the cup and plate onto the table in front of him. Coffee slopped out onto the saucer.

‘Well, you've got a right cheek,' she began.

‘What do you mean?' he said, noting the two fiery spots on her cheeks. ‘I thought you'd be pleased. I wanted to help you promote your challenges.'

‘Oh did you? How very magnanimous of you,' she retorted, hands on hips.

‘Hospital radio stations aren't ordinarily high on people's radars,' he said, raising his voice to match hers. ‘At least, if you get some press coverage, you'll highlight the cause. The way you're going about it, it'll be futile. You'll not make anywhere near enough money,' he continued. ‘People are bombarded by good causes. You need to stand apart from those. People need to engage with you and what you are trying to do.

‘I can make a difference. I can show how important the role of City Hospital Radio is to the community. I can even follow you on your remaining challenges. People love reading about fun news items and wacky stuff. Your story covers both of those angles. How many women would play a kazoo while haring down a zip wire for charity? There certainly aren't many who would dive with sharks. You even have the support of the local community. Look at all the shark pots downstairs. They're selling, purely because of you. With the right wording we could really grab people's attention and get them on board. Isn't that what you want?'

Charlie clenched her fists. She knew he was right, but she was not going to be asking this particular journalist for any assistance.

‘What do you know about hospital radio and people's radars? What makes you think I can't do this on my own? And, who are you to decide to help me? You barely know me. I can manage perfectly well without your sort of help. I suppose you thought you were
helping
me with Rob in the pub?'

Jake looked down at his feet. ‘Well, yes. I guess that wasn't my finest moment, but he really annoyed me and he was behaving really badly, like a proper…'

She glared at him. ‘Prick?'

He did not display any remorse. ‘Erm. Yes, a prick. You shouldn't be hanging around losers like that,' he continued, running his hands again through his dark hair. ‘You've got much more about you. You don't need idiots like that.'

‘Oh really? Suddenly you're an expert on who I should see too. It's none of your business, mister nosey journalist. I don't need either your opinion or your advice. You've got a nerve waltzing in here, trying to impress me, pretending to offer help when you're probably waiting for me to make a fool of myself again. I wouldn't be surprised to read a column all about the daft woman who scurries about on her knees, making pig noises.'

Jake raised an eyebrow. ‘Well...' he said, attempting to lighten the mood.

‘See! I knew it. I don't trust you at all, especially after what you did to Rob.'

‘But he deserved it,' Jake protested.

‘No,' she said firmly, ‘he didn't deserve it. You went too far and I am not interested in your proposition. Goodbye.'

Charlie turned smartly on her heels and walked off. She marched downstairs, past Art and headed for the door.

‘Charlie?' called Art.

‘I'm going home. See you tomorrow,' she shouted and left.

C
harlie drove straight home
. She flung open the back door and headed for the kitchen. She crashed and banged about in her cupboards, looking for her teabags. Who the bloody hell was this man to try and interfere in her life? He hardly even knew her. They had shared a few minutes together at Alton Towers, discussing music and suddenly he felt he could bash up men he didn't approve of, decry her efforts at helping the radio station and arrogantly decide to play some sort of avenging hero.

She found the teabags at last and dropped one in a mug. She turned on the kettle and stood fuming. At that moment, there was a loud shriek, followed by fluttering. Bert landed on her kitchen top.

He growled loudly. She screamed.

Unperturbed, Bert cocked his head.

‘Christ Bert! What the heck are you doing here?'

Bert bobbed up and down. ‘Hello, hello. Good moaning. Mmm mmm.'

‘You scared me half to death. How did you get in?'

She looked about the kitchen and discovered the window was ajar.

‘Oh no! I must have left it open last night after I baked the cakes. Anyone could have broken in.'

Bert made kissing noises and murmurings.

‘Come on. I've got some grapes in the fridge and then you're going back to Peggy. She'll be worried sick about you.'

Charlie opened her fridge, pulled out a container of grapes and gave two to Bert. He took them in his claws and flew to the top of her kitchen door. Whilst Bert sat there contentedly munching, Charlie phoned Peggy.

She picked up immediately, her voice quavering. ‘Oh Charlie,' she began.

‘Don't worry. I've got him. He got into my house through an open window. He's perfectly all right. Frightened me to death when he landed on my kitchen top, but he's fine. Do you want to come around and fetch him?'

‘I'm on my way. Naughty Bert.'

Peggy arrived a few minutes later and Bert flew straight to her and kissed her.

‘Love Peggy,' he said.

‘I've never known Bert fly off like that,' said Peggy, as she sat drinking tea with Charlie after she'd calmed down. ‘He always stays indoors and only comes into the garden when I'm there. I thought I'd lost him.'

‘What happened?'

‘It was just after you left this morning. I heard you leave. I was getting breakfast for us and saw your car go. Bert was looking out of the window and making all sorts of strange noises, so I peeped out too and saw a man standing in your flower bed, staring through your front window. I wasn't sure if it was a burglar. He noticed me and signalled to me. He seemed nice enough. Didn't look like a burglar, at all, so I opened the front door and spoke to him across our fence. He explained he was a journalist and asked if you were in. I told him I thought you'd gone out.'

Charlie felt the tension rise again. That man was too much. Fancy tracking her down at her home. Nosey parker.

‘Anyway, I said I didn't know when you'd be home and it'd be best to find you at the hospital later today. He thanked me and went. I decided to pull some weeds while I was out there. Then, when I came back inside, Bert had gone. I didn't notice him fly off. I called and called him.' Peggy pulled a tissue out of the sleeve of her cardigan and wiped her eyes. ‘Oh Charlie, I thought he'd gone forever. I went up and down the road, shouting his name. I took seed cake and asked all the other neighbours if they'd seen him. Someone phoned the local pet shop in case he got handed in. I was beside myself. Thank goodness you came home and found him. I was going mad with worry. I don't know what I'd do without him.' Bert sat on her shoulder, making cooing noises.

‘You frightened me, Bert,' said Peggy, rubbing his beak. ‘I'm so glad you didn't go far. Who's a lovely boy? Bert's a lovely boy.'

‘Bert's a lovely boy,' repeated Bert.

‘Did Jake, the man you saw, say anything else?' asked Charlie

‘Only that I needn't tell you I'd seen him. He wanted it to be a surprise for you. Oh dear, have I ruined the surprise now? What a silly old lady I am.'

‘Not at all. I've already seen him. He came to the café. It wasn't much of a surprise. I told him I wasn't interested in his silly interview.'

‘That's a shame. He seemed such a nice young man. I got the impression he was quite keen to see you and not just to interview you. Oh well. There are plenty more fish in the sea.'

‘Yes, and there are some large sharks too,' said Charlie and gave a shiver.