Sounds Like Radio Episode 11
Once again Gerry was there way past her working day.
“I noticed that there’s no red bulb in that,” Gerry said, pointing to the panel above the sound desk that had green, amber and red lights in a row.
“Is it redundant?”
Cesca looked up.
“Not redundant, no. The red one comes on when sound levels get too high.
“It must have blown. Kev will have ordered a new bulb.”
“He’s efficient.”
Cesca smiled ruefully.
“Kind of. Everything has to be in order, though he mostly has other people do the work.
“That’s why he’s never in the office – the mess makes him twitch.”
Gerry was fairly sure she was doing OK.
Cesca had allowed her to be tape operator on a simple show, although Kevin had passed by the corridor window and looked as though the fabric of the universe was being torn because such a junior person was recording.
Cesca said he was in – again! – on his day off.
Monica arrived to drag him away and from the kitchen Gerry heard her say something about “day out” and Kevin counter with something about “B and Q”, and then a door slammed.
Cesca looked over Gerry’s shoulder while she made cuts in the recording.
“Good,” Cesca said. “You’re learning fast.”
“For an old lady.”
“You’re not going to trap me into ageism.” Cesca laughed.
“But I don’t want the Audio Union disciplining me when you stay here all hours.
“Do not let this take over a perfectly enjoyable life. There are enough of us here doing that already.”
“Don’t worry,” Gerry said. “It’s all on me.
“I’m ‘all-in’ with this apprenticeship for a particular reason. Which I won’t bore you with.”
“Bore away. I need to put fades on these clips and it’s mindless.” Cesca powered up the computer.
Gerry felt a sense of relief, telling Cesca about her wasted years, her regrets, her decision to start afresh.
“It wasn’t all negative,” she said.
“But too many difficulties, too many work relationships gone bad because of other people’s jealousy or inadequacy – I was glad to go.”
“I suppose all workplaces have those rock bottom moments,” Cesca said.
“Mine was especially dreadful,” Gerry said.
She often thought of those years as a sort of grey cloud receding behind her.
The studio door swung open and Kevin came in, distracted.
“Oh, hi, Kev, can I take it you ordered a new red bulb?” Cesca asked.
He stopped.
“Um, I’ll see. Have you seen a script for the pet shop advert? I may have left it in here.”
“No,” Cesca said. “That bulb? I can order one if –”
“I forgot,” Kevin said. “I will.” He left again.
“Maybe that’s a sign he’s loosening up,” Cesca said. “Is Monica working magic? He’s normally incredibly fussy about every item being in order.
“We have to do a biannual inventory.”
“Not including the sound effects?”
Cesca laughed.
“Oh, yes, including them. How many broken cups do we have for broken china effects?
“Does the squeaky baby toy still squeak? Are all the hard-soled shoes in matching pairs?
“He needs a spare battery for each radio microphone and all the highlighter pens are checked in case they’ve dried up.” Cesca looked up at the red light.
“I don’t use that thing. We have to monitor at safe levels so it doesn’t come on.
“But it’s a requirement. I’ll get Miriam to put in an order in case Kevin doesn’t. No harm in a spare.
“Good grief – I am becoming Kevin!”