It was getting hotter by the minute in the studio. This just wasn’t possible – this was Aberdeenshire. You could walk along Aberdeen beach in July and see people in anoraks – with scarves, gloves and the hoods up! The Sunset Grill sounded very appealing. Tammy’s Truck Stop sounded appealing too. He was sorely tempted to go there after the show and get a full Scottish breakfast and an ice cold glass of Coke, especially as Tammy had been on the phone trying to tempt him. Too bad, he had told her, he had to take this damned JCB bucket and a barrel of oil up to some God forsaken hillside where he would most likely get savaged by a wolf!
When the Don Henley track was finishing, he decided to go straight into the next one. He really wanted to sit back with his feet up and listen to this one. This rated as one of his all-time top ten tracks, and he had come across it by pure accident. He didn’t buy CDs very often, but when he heard ‘Oh Romeo’ by Mindy McCready, he just had to go out and buy it. The second track on the CD single, which would have been the ‘B’ side on a 45 in the olden days, completely blew him away. It was called ‘Cross Against the Moon’, and was the most heartfelt atmospheric thing he had heard in a long time. Now he was going to play it, and he was going to enjoy it in its entirety. He mixed the beginning of it over the end of the previous track.
The haunting piano intro started with an eerie wind whistling behind it, then Mindy’s magic voice. Why the hell did this track remind him of Katharina? Was it because it was about an innocent, naïve little girl of seventeen who was giving up the safety of her bedroom in Nebraska to run away to Hollywood? That didn’t make any sense, but it made him think of her anyway. He thought of her in her bedroom in Vienna, planning to go out into the big wide world. He wondered where she was right now, this very minute. What was she doing? Who was she with? Did she ever think of him? Did she ache as much as he did? Closing his eyes during the track, he could see her beautiful face right in front of him. He reached out, and touched . . . the microphone!
Time for the next track. He played a jingle, still didn’t speak, and went straight into ‘Cha Cha Loco’ by Joe Jackson from the album ‘Body and Soul’, with its rousing Latin beat.
Things were pretty obscure, music-wise, on the show this morning, but that’s the way he liked it in the wee small hours, and that’s the way the listeners liked it too, going by the feedback he got. He just wished Katharina could be here doing the show with him just like they used to do on the Mermaid, but he didn’t think the Radio Authority would let him off with some of the antics that they used to get up to on-air! It was a nice thought, anyway.
This was a nice lively track, and it brought him back to reality. He realised he was actually playing records for people listening out there, not just for his own amusement, so when the track ended, he thought he’d better speak this time.
“That’s Joe Jackson there, and ‘Cha Cha Loco’ from the album ‘Body and Soul’, and prior to that, just an ideal track for a hot summer’s night – Mindy McCready and ‘Cross Against the Moon’, and you’re hearing it on a hot summer’s night on Strathdee FM coming to you from the depths of the forest at Mains of Clarty in beautiful Royal Deeside. We are here in the dark now. We’ve turned the lights out and we’ve just got the desk lights on - the panel lights – with just enough light for me to see what I’m doing. We had the lights on and we’ve got the window wide open in the studio because, would you believe, it’s about twenty-three degrees in here just now. How can it be twenty-three degrees when it’s dark and the sun’s not shining? That’s what I want to know! But we’ve attracted one item of wildlife already into the studio. It’s hiding under the desk, and I must try and get it out, and there are some more noises outside - I don’t know what it is. Our studio window looks out onto a farm, and I know that there are no farm animals out there – I know that, but there’s something out there because I just heard it about three minutes ago. Umm . . . I’m going to investigate and let you know. In the meantime, more music.”
Dave played two lively jingles back to back, and then decided to liven things up a bit with Republica and ‘Ready to Go’.
Hell – those lyrics . . . about being too far away . . . it’s Katharina again! Shit, man, pull yourself together, he told himself, you’re never going to see her again unless you go looking for her. Decide today if that’s what you’re going to do.
Over the next four weeks after the funeral, Katharina did nothing much at all – just hung about the apartment, went to coffee shops and walked about town. Johanna stayed over every few nights, and they discussed the idea of her moving in permanently. They both thought it would be good fun, and get Johanna away from the constraints of her parents. Then the first bombshell dropped.
A notice came in the post, informing Katharina that the landlord wanted repossession of the apartment for his own use, and she was given notice to quit. She wasn’t too bothered as she had discovered that she had inherited £10,000 in her Papa’s will – money he had saved for her wedding should she find the right man. She had already found the right man. The only man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with – and promptly lost him again. She should have married him when she had the chance, she thought. All he needed was a little push. Well, I’ve still got Johanna, she thought, and that meant a lot to her.
One morning, two weeks later, they got up at nine o’clock. Johanna had stayed over again, as she did every few days. They had got into the habit of sleeping together. Katharina liked the arrangement as she felt safe and secure. Johanna liked the arrangement as it kept her away from her parents. The only down side to this was Johanna’s snoring. It could be compared to a leaky steam engine! Katharina filled the kettle and switched it on. Johanna came through in a bath robe and lit a cigarette.
“You look pale,” she said to Katharina. “Are you OK?”
“I was thinking about us getting an apartment together.”
Johanna’s eyes lit up. Katharina continued, “I don’t think it’s a good idea. In fact, I don’t think we should do any more sleep-overs. I’m not getting a good night’s sleep when you’re here. You snore!”
Hurt, Johanna replied, “Oh well, if that’s the way you want it. I thought we had something special between us, but obviously I’m wrong.”
“We have, Jo, we have. But not so special that I can put up with that! I can’t take it, Jo. I need my sleep. I just want to be on my own today. Do you mind?”
Johanna left, under an awkward atmosphere. Katharina had other reasons for wanting to be alone today. She thought she was pregnant. She was sure she was pregnant – well, almost sure. She wanted to go out and buy a testing kit to make sure. She was already three weeks late, and she was never late.
She went out to a pharmacy several blocks away where she wasn’t known, and chose the most expensive kit on offer – she wanted this to be accurate. She returned immediately to the apartment - a girl on a mission. After reading the instructions, she proceeded to carry out the test. When she looked at the result, she couldn’t believe it. Well, she could, because in her heart of hearts she already knew, but seeing it there in front of her eyes, shouting at her . . . POSITIVE!
She felt all sorts of emotions flooding over her all at once. Excitement; fear; regret; fulfilment; motherhood. Hang on to these last two, she told herself. She walked slowly through to the living room, staring at the test result still in her hand. She poured herself a brandy to calm her jangling nerves. Well, all this drinking will have to stop, she told herself. She was going to have a baby. Her baby. Dave’s baby. Her Papa’s grandchild. Her dear Mama’s grandchild. She wished they were both here.
Then the practicalities started to kick in. How did this happen? She was on the pill. Then it struck her. That night on the ship when she received the terrible phone call, all she wanted afterwards was some loving comfort from Dave. Like the perfect gentleman he was, he naturally obliged. In her emotionally disturbed state, she forgot to take her pill. Now her mind was racing as she started to justify the situation: This was meant to be. This is Dave’s gift to me – the finest gift a girl could ever have – the gift of life. If I can’t have Dave, I can have his child. Mama and Papa can have the grandchild they would always have wanted. They are watching over me. They will know about this. They will make everything all right, I know they will.
She spent the rest of the day lounging about the apartment, trying to formulate a plan for her future. She had responsibilities now – the responsibility of another person’s life. She was going to do this right – she had to. Her first mission would be to find a place to live. She could buy an apartment, using the money she inherited as a deposit, but she knew she wouldn’t get a mortgage without a job. She would have to get a job. Looks like it’s a kitchen maid again for me, she thought. Next step would be to go to the doctor for a proper examination. Or should she do that first? She hadn’t a clue! She climbed into bed and had an early night.
Things looked clearer in the morning. Her whole life had changed within twenty-four hours. She decided to go out and try to find a job, but first she would phone Johanna. She dialled the number, and her friend answered.
“Hello, Jo,” she said, tentatively.
“Oh, you’re speaking to me now?”
“Jo, I’m so sorry about yesterday – please don’t be cross with me. You will soon understand why I was a bit short with you. I had something big on my mind. Can I meet you today to tell you?”
“What is it? What is it – tell me.”
“No, Jo, I’ll tell you when I see you. Meet me at the Café Mozart at five o’clock. I have a lot to do today and I should be finished by then.”
“OK, Kat, I’ll see you then. I can’t wait!”
Katharina put on her Mermaid Radio T-shirt which she had washed the previous day, and a pair of her best jeans. Then she set out to get herself a job. At first, she went to all of the big hotels in the city centre, and out of twelve hotels, all she was offered was a temporary chambermaid’s job for three months. She said she would get back to them, and then she went to a small café for lunch. In the afternoon, she tried another six hotels, this time concentrating on the privately owned ones in the quieter areas of town. After having no luck, she was just about to give up when she saw a hotel sign at the end of a side street. When she saw what the hotel was called, she just had to go into this one. She walked along and went into the Hotel Mermaid. There was an immediate homely atmosphere, and the smell of fresh home baking pervaded the reception area. A grandfather clock ticked reassuringly and a friendly woman welcomed her. She was the owner and was about sixty, with white hair swept back into a bun, rather like an old fashioned schoolteacher. She told Katharina she was originally from Copenhagen, and had come here to introduce a little bit of Denmark into Austria. She was very interested when Katharina gave her an account of her experience. She was so impressed by her spell in St Moritz, and even more so by her Mermaid Radio experience, that she offered her a job there and then. Her job would be kitchen maid, with additional duties as waitress, chambermaid, receptionist and even barmaid when required. This was a lot to ask from anyone, but when the owner told her what her salary would be, and that she would have her own en suite room, she decided it was too good to turn down. However, Katharina didn’t mention the fact she was pregnant – that would do for later. After all, she still hadn’t had it confirmed by a medical practitioner. She arranged to start in two weeks, and then left for the Café Mozart to meet Johanna. She would be early, but that wouldn’t matter.
When she reached the café, she took one of the outside tables under the canopy to watch for her friend arriving. Cars were parked nose-in to the opposite kerb outside the café in a little parking area, and in one of these cars, a black Mercedes with tinted glass, sat two men in dark suits. A third man in a white T-shirt and jeans was standing beside the open rear door of the car, smoking. He spotted Katharina, turned round and said something to the occupants of the car, and the man in the back seat handed him something. It was a copy of Poparama magazine, with Katharina on the front cover. He walked over to Katharina’s table, and very politely said, “Excuse me; I hope you don’t mind me approaching you like this, but are you Katharina Bloch?”
Taken aback, Katharina hesitantly replied, “Yes, I am.”
“Katharina Bloch, the Mermaid Radio girl – the one in Poparama magazine?” and he held the magazine up in front of her.
Getting rather excited now, she squealed, “Yes! Yes, that’s me!”
The man then said, “I wonder if you would be so kind as to do me the greatest of favours? My friends and I are big, big fans of yours. Would you be so good as to autograph my copy of the magazine for me?”
“Of course I will,” she said, and he handed her the magazine and a pen. She signed it with a ‘good luck’ message across the top of her front cover picture.
“That’s wonderful,” said the man, “now, would you be so kind as to autograph my friend’s copy. He’s just in the car over here and he is slightly disabled and can’t come out. It would make his day if he could meet you.”
“Of course I will, of course I will, no problem,” she said, and as she got up from the table the man escorted her over to the car. She leaned in the back door of the car and the man inside held out his hand to greet her. As she took it, he pulled her sharply into the car while the man outside pushed her in and followed on behind, closing the door.
The jeans man said to her, “Now Katharina, we have a little job for you. It is very easy and safe. You will come to no harm, that is, if you fully co-operate with us.”
Then the suit man sitting on her other side took over. “Katharina, it is an absolute pleasure to meet you. I do honestly want your autograph, but first let me explain our rather unconventional behaviour.”
A cold chill travelled right up her spine, and at this point the driver started the engine, reversed the car out from the parking space, and joined the busy traffic. Katharina was starting to get very alarmed. This definitely was not right. How could she have been so stupid? The suit man continued, “Katharina, we are authorised debt recovery agents, otherwise known as professional bounty hunters, and as professionals, we very rarely ever fail in our assignments. We will use any means we can to succeed in our missions – it is that important to us. We have some very high-profile clients and we are in great demand, Katharina, and that is because we are the BEST! We are second to none! Do you understand me, Katharina?”
She was getting very frightened now, and all she could manage was a little nod as her eyes started to fill with tears.
The man continued in a very refined, well-mannered voice, “Now, Katharina, you have a boss called Frank Bentley who has defrauded several big companies who we represent, and it is our job to get our clients’ money back from him – all of it. The only trouble is, Katharina, we don’t know where your boss is, and this is where you come in.”
The car was now well away from the city centre, and Katharina could see they were driving into an industrial area. They drove on through some quiet, deserted streets between empty warehouses and yards with trucks parked in them. They turned a corner at the very bottom of the industrial estate, onto a totally deserted street with high walls on each side. The driver stopped the car and switched off the engine.
Katharina was shaking like a leaf, and the tears were uncontrollably running down her cheeks. The man continued, quite softly, “Now, Katharina, let's get straight down to business. The sooner this is finished, the better. Where is your boss?”
“I . . . I . . . I don’t know,” she sobbed.
Quick as a flash, the man turned with the rolled up magazine in his hand and smashed it brutally across her face shouting, “WE ARE NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES, KATHARINA, AND YOU BETTER REALISE THAT!” The blow was so severe, it knocked her glasses off and they fell onto the floor of the car somewhere. She was in a terrible state by now, sobbing loudly, and screaming in between gulps of breath, “No! No! I . . . don’t know . . . where he is. I want to . . . I want to find him too. I lost my boyfriend . . . Frank will know . . . he will know . . . where Dave, my boyfriend is. I must find him. I will help you, but I really don’t know where he is.”
Just as she began to almost regain her composure, the suit man reached out with a big hand, took hold of her whole face in his hand and squeezed. He squeezed so hard that he almost broke her cheekbones and her jaw. She yelped in absolute terror and pain. He said to her quite calmly, while still holding her in a bizarrely contorted position, “I hope, Katharina, for your sake, that you are telling me the truth, because if you are not, we will track you down forever, and you will regret lying to me for the rest of your life, short as it may be.”
She would never forget the strong smell of aniseed coming from the man’s hand right up against her nostrils.
While this was going on, the jeans man bent down and picked her glasses up from the floor. The suit man released his grip on her and took them from the jeans man. Katharina was too terrified to cry now. She was starting to go into spasms of shock, and couldn’t stop herself from shaking. Her face was in agony, and she reached up to touch it but she couldn’t control her shaking arm, and she ended up hitting her face and making it worse.
The suit man said, “I’m so sorry, I seem to have knocked your glasses off. Do you really need them?”
She could barely speak now. She thought she was going to pass out. “Y . . . y . . . . yes.” She was now a complete wreck. “I . . . I . . .”
“YES?” he shouted, right in her face.
She forced an answer, “I . . . can’t. I . . . c-c-can’t see a thing . . . without . . . them.”
She tried to reach out for her glasses, and he held them up, out of her reach, shouting, “KATHARINA, DO YOU KNOW WHERE FRANK BENTLEY IS?”
“No,” she sobbed. “No, no, no,” and she let out a long wail. The suit man then took the glasses in both hands, and right in front of her face, snapped them in two.
“First them - next YOU! NOW TELL ME THE TRUTH,” he yelled at her.
At that point, a car came round the corner, and as it got nearer, the jeans man shouted, “Police!”
The suit man shouted to the driver, “GO! GO! GO!” and as he was starting the engine, Katharina, suddenly finding some super-human strength, whacked the jeans man in the groin with one hand while opening the door with the other. As the car was speeding off, she was launching herself through the open door, tumbling over and over three or four times before her head smashed into a lamp post. She just lay there, stunned. There was a stony silence – nothing. The Mercedes had gone and the police car had gone. She was alone. She felt liquid running down her cheeks, and when it reached her mouth, she could taste it. Blood! She rolled over painfully and just lay there totally destroyed, and she started to pass out. She really thought this was the end.
After what seemed like an eternity, she came round, and tried to sit up. She was sore all over and thought she had broken some ribs. Her face hurt like hell, and she thought it was twisted permanently after what she had been through. The bleeding had stopped by now, but she felt the congealed blood down her face and started to cry again. After another ten minutes, she tried to stand up, and yelled out with pain as her chest felt like a knife was piercing through it. She managed to get onto her feet, and tried to work out where she was. She could see she was in some kind of industrial area with warehouses and offices, but she couldn’t read any of the company signs or the street name. She struggled up to the inside edge of the pavement and painfully stood up against the wall. At this close range, she could make out it was a concrete wall, and she could clearly make out the rough detail of the concrete. She thought she would follow this wall, touching it all the way, and hoped that it might lead her to somewhere.
The wall turned a corner into another street, and she held onto it as she stumbled along slowly. It was starting to get dark now, and the street lights had come on. She looked up at them, and they looked like big fluffy balls of light. In different circumstances they could have appeared to be quite beautiful, but these were dangerous circumstances, and she was only now beginning to realise how much danger she actually was in. She was totally helpless. There was no way she was going to be able to make her own way home. If she could find a phone booth she could at least phone for help, but how was she ever going to find one here in a deserted industrial estate miles from anywhere? In total despair, she slumped down again onto the pavement. It would be so easy to just lie here, she thought, go to sleep and never wake up again. She felt so light-headed with losing so much blood, that she seriously thought it was all over for her. She felt she was past the point of no return.
After lying there for what seemed like another eternity, somehow she got enough strength together to struggle back onto her feet and follow the wall for a bit more. The wall stopped, and she felt a steel mesh gate. She followed the gate, and then it became a brick wall. She was sure this wall had windows in it as she looked up and saw dark blurry squares above her. Just then, she stumbled into a steel handrail at right angles to the wall. On the other side of the handrail were steps, and as she crawled up them, she was faced by a glass door. She bang, bang, banged on the door, crying out, “Help! Help me!” and realising that the building was all in darkness, slumped down again into a crumpled heap and started to cry.
Inside the building, two English guys John Ford and Colin Burrows were sitting in one of the offices with their feet up on a desk. Their company, which was based back in Tyneside, had won the contract for installing the network cables for a new computer system in the offices. John was from Newcastle and Colin was from Sunderland, and they never ever let each other forget it. If it wasn’t continual bantering about the merits of Newcastle United over Sunderland Football Club, or vice versa, then it was a contest between the Newcastle women and the Sunderland women. When every computation of rivalry had been exhausted, the insults were reduced to the plain fact that Sunderland had never produced a decent cable layer in its history, or in Colin’s view, all Newcastle cable layers were rubbish!
“Well, what do we do now, bonnie lad?” John asked Colin. “We’ve finished the final run, and if we stay back and buzz it out tonight we can get off on a flyer tomorrow and get back in time for the match on Saturday.”
Colin wasn’t so sure. “I’m knackered, John. We’ve been at this since eight this morning. I’m so tired we could make a mistake, then that’s the whole job gone tits-up! Let’s come back in the morning, early – about seven, knock it on the head, then go straight home. We’ll still make it to the match OK.”
John succumbed. “You’re right. We’ll call it a day. But it doesn’t mean that’s a point for Sunderland, mind!”
“You do the alarm and I’ll get the car out of the yard,” Colin suggested.
They put the office lights out and went into the hallway. “Wait,” John shouted, “Did you hear that?”
They both froze. “What?”
“A sort of knocking sound at the main door,” said John. “There it is again.”
Colin was dismissive. “It’ll be kids, or an animal.” He wanted back to the hotel and a well earned beer.
John shrugged his shoulders, and they went out a side door to their car. Colin opened the big steel gates, started the car and drove out into the street to wait while John closed and locked the gates. He was just about to climb into the car when he stopped in his tracks.
“Whoa there, bonnie lad! Do you see what I see?” he shouted to Colin.
Colin followed his gaze to the front door. “There’s someone over there – on the steps. It’ll be a drunk. Come on, let’s go.”
John wasn’t so sure. “You only get drunks in doorways in Sunderland, man. This is Vienna.”
“You cheeky sod. Newcastle’s full of drunks in doorways. It’s all that Brown Ale!”
“Wait a minute,” John hushed his voice, “I’m going over to take a look.”
He walked to the main door, and as he approached Katharina, she said weakly, “Help. Please help.”
He shouted back to Colin, “It’s a girl, Colin. A young girl – and she’s hurt pretty bad. Come here.”
Colin got out of the car and went over.
“Oh my God! She’s in a mess, poor lass. You stay with her and I’ll open up the building again. I’ll come down and open this door. No, wait; we don’t have a key for this door. Let’s take her in the side door.”
John put his arm around her and said, “What’s your name, pet?”
“K . . . K . . . Katharina.”
“Katharina, we’re going to help you, don’t be scared. We will take you into the building and get you cleaned up. We can phone for the police and ambulance from in there.”
She struggled against him, and with a burst of energy she squealed, “No, no. No police, no ambulance!”
“OK, pet. OK. But you must let us help you. Come on, hold on to me and we’ll get you inside.”
Colin opened the steel gates again, and they went in the side door. He entered the alarm code, and they slowly went up to the hallway and into the kitchen. They carefully sat Katharina down at the table and took a good look at her. There was a gash on her brow and her face was covered with the congealed blood that had run down from it. Her face was badly bruised, and her left cheek seemed to be very swollen. She was also holding her chest where her T-shirt was ripped. Colin filled the kettle and switched it on. Then he got a bowl from a cupboard, and took the first aid box down from the wall. When the kettle boiled, he made her a cup of coffee and put four spoonfuls of sugar in it. She took it and started to sip it, painfully. He poured the rest of the water into the bowl, and with cotton wool and disinfectant from the first aid box, he started to clean her face, very gently.
“Now, what happened to you, pet,” he asked her.
The sweet coffee was making her feel better, and she said, “Bad men in car. They grab Katharina in town and bring her here. They hit her. She jump from car and they run off from police.”
“We must phone the police,” John said, “they could still catch them.”
“No, no. No police, NO!” she shouted. “The men, they want information from Katharina, but she not have it. They gone now – they not bother her again.”
John noticed her looking at him very closely, squinting with half-shut eyes. “Maybe you have concussion. Are you having trouble seeing me?”
“Bad men take Katharina’s glasses and break them in pieces. She not see well without them. Very bad eyes. You help her get home, please?”
“I think we should take you to hospital,” John said. “You could be badly injured.”
“No, no. No hospital. Hospital will tell police. Police want to know what happened. No, no, please.”
Colin had finished cleaning her face, and he put a dressing on the wound. Luckily, she still had her canvas bag which she always carried right over her shoulder as you could never be too careful, even in Vienna. The bag was now scuffed and dirty, and the strap had broken. Colin asked if he could check inside her bag, and she said yes. He took out her purse and checked it was still intact. Thankfully her keys were still there.
“Now, how do we get you home, pet? Where do you live?” asked John.
She told him the address, but he was none the wiser. She told him that if they could go into the city centre to the Café Mozart, she would give them directions from there by memory, as she wouldn’t be able to see where they were anyway.
They locked up the building again, and helped her out to the car. She felt safe with these two lovely guys, and she felt very lucky. They reached the centre of town in fifteen minutes, and then she directed them to her apartment. They took her right up to her door, and took her right inside, making sure that she was safe.
John said, “Now, do you have a good friend, or maybe relations that you can phone to come over and help you?”
“Yes. A friend will come. Thank you.”
“OK, if you’re sure you will be all right, we’ll go now. You are very lucky we were in that building tonight. You could have been lying there all night as no one comes round there at night.”
“Katharina, she is very, very grateful to you both. You are both lovely guys. Thank you so very, very much,” and she gave them both a kiss on the cheek. They said their goodbyes, and she closed and locked her door, went through to her bedroom, flopped down on the bed and fell fast asleep.
“You’ll never get a woman as nice as that in Sunderland,” John fired quickly at Colin as they drove off.
“Or in Newcastle,” Colin quickly replied, “they’re all dogs there!”
The following morning brought with it its own problems for Katharina: an aching forehead; a severely bruised and aching face; unbearable pain in her chest w