Sounds Like Radio Episode 03
From somewhere close by came faint rumbling noises.
“It sounds a bit like the trenches,” Gerry said with a hopeful grin.
Would this tired-looking girl throw her out if she didn’t keep talking and show willing?
Cesca smiled.
“Funny you should say that. Look . . . Gerry? Can you coil a cable?”
“I helped rig an outdoor event once for the council. I think I can put that special twist in a cable that I saw the engineers do.”
“Our drama studio’s a terrible mess and we never have time to untangle it.”
“Let me at it!” Gerry said.
Cesca showed her into the main studio. Gerry took in the portable door on wheels, fitted with several different latches, letter-boxes and locks.
She looked up at long curtains that she was pretty sure provided extra acoustic padding for the undulating foam walls.
There was a shelf of crockery, a big bucket of gravel, green lights on stands and safety rubber mats to cover stray cables.
It was dusty, tarnished, messy, stuffy and brilliant!
Cesca crouched to rummage in a cupboard and pulled out a box of black cable ties.
Gerry saw a rigged microphone on the table; it was the large silvery sort that hung in a cradle suspended from its stand. It made her heart skip.
“Oh, our Kevin is going to be delighted with this,” Cesca said. “He’s going to love you.”
“Kevin? You mentioned Kevin before.”
“He’s the senior engineer here. He’s been nagging me to put a tie around every blessed cable for years.”
“I look forward to meeting Kevin,” Gerry said.
“He’s a very special man,” Cesca said. “See you in ninety-three cables’ time.
“Don’t forget the fold-back speaker ones – they hide in corners, like spiders.
“There are spiders, too.”
Minimum wage. Cesca crossed the corridor back to the office.
The budget barely ran to a packet of Hobnobs, let alone a wage.
Did Gerry Horsley expect to work full-time?
Cesca clicked the screen back on and figures swam before her eyes, so she saved the spreadsheet then e-mailed Mr Chopra.
Cesca often imagined him at this time of day, walking off the golf course and looking at his phone, now that he had a moment.
Mr Chopra always said he had a lot on and it usually involved nineteen holes.
Ah, yes, Francesca, he e-mailed back. I meant to mention that one. Sorry. I’ve had a lot on.
The sound of drilling began again and Kevin appeared seconds later, red in the face.
He had a thick brown beard but it was always obvious that his mouth was set in a hard line.
“I cannot work under these conditions!” he said.
“I will not be able to smother this terrible noise under artillery effects for ever!”
“I don’t think it will last for ever,” Cesca said. “Let’s investigate, shall we?”
“Let’s sue,” Kevin replied.
Kevin liked to suggest major changes to Sounds Like Radio – buy the flat above and create a music studio, manage a vibrant social media presence – but he rarely offered to be the one to do the slog.
He was far too busy with technical matters.