Dave was brought abruptly back to the real world when the record ended. He had been daydreaming. How can you daydream at quarter past midnight? he thought. He had played two records in a row now as he just couldn’t be bothered speaking.
The second track on the show was one of his all-time favourites – one of his ‘desert island discs’ as he called it. It was a track by Suzanne Vega called ‘Men in a War’ from the rather strange album ‘Days of Open Hand’. He never forgot these lyrics about when men in a war lost a limb and could still feel that limb like it was still there. It was referring to losing love like losing a piece of your body, and still feeling it. He had heard that people who have had a foot amputated still get an itchy foot! He always compared this to Katharina. She’s my lost foot, he thought. He never, ever, stopped thinking about her, day and night, even in his sleep. Tonight, his thoughts were stronger than ever. He ached inside for her. Every bone in his body wanted her. He told himself, I’m going to have to do something about this. I’ll leave next week, go to Vienna and find her. I’ve got to. There, that’s that sorted. It didn’t take away the ache, though.
He was so overcome by his feelings, and the Suzanne Vega track, that he couldn’t speak, so he had just gone straight into the next track. He didn’t do crying, but he really had to wipe away some serious water from his eyes before he could see the controls on the desk. Must be this damned heat, he told himself.
The next track was a real rocker from a band called Reef. This would knock him back into shape, he thought. The singer roared out the first line of the song about placing your hands on his and running your fingers through his soul. He instantly remembered how Katharina would come up behind him and place her lovely hands on his neck, and then move them down from there to his shoulders, giving him a very sensual massage. Then she would rub her cheek against his from behind, slowly turning round to face him while rubbing her body against his like a friendly cat, the whole manoeuvre culminating in a passionate kiss.
“Oh man, I can’t take this any longer!” he shouted out loud.
WHOOSH! PLOP! Flap, flap . . .
Something just flew in the wide open window. Instinctively, he tried swatting it with the running order, and it fluttered down the back of the desk while a stack of CDs crashed to the floor and the half empty can of Coke rolled along the desk leaving its trade mark as it went. Was it a bird? Was it a plane? Dave actually thought it was a cross between a bird and a moth. Entirely possible, he thought, knowing the track record of some of this village’s residents’ sexual exploits!
At that point the record ended. Good job the microphone wasn’t open, he thought. Better speak this time.
“Hello . . . anyone out there? Welcome along to ninety minutes of superb tracks on a hot summer’s night. We’re in the studio here in Strathdee where it’s just turned midnight and we’ve got the window wide open. We had the lights on as well, which wasn’t a good idea because something came in. I don’t know what it was, but it flew past me at amazing speed, had about a six inch wingspan, I tried a swipe at it and it’s disappeared down the back of the desk. Now, I can hear fluttering of wings, - I really don’t want to think about it at all, so I’m just going to play some more music.”
He fired a jingle which started with a powerful drum role, and then the singers came in with, “The most music – Strathdee FM.” David Bowie immediately came thundering in with one of the best intros to a pop record ever – ‘Rebel Rebel’.
Frank Bentley had wanted Katharina to be a ‘rebel’ mermaid. Dave loved the idea of that. It suited her so much, and she was so enthusiastic, even suggesting she did the photo shoots topless, but it was made quite clear to her that she would wear a ‘fish scale’ bikini top. “After all, this is a family station,” Frank would say.
Dave thought back to the first three months on the station – it was heaven, and hard work, both at the same time. He put in a lot of hours, covering for other DJs most of the time as they were still short of presenters. He even persuaded Katharina to do a show in both German and English, and with her total inexperience and natural exuberance, the show was a revelation, and quickly gathered a cult following. Needless to say, a lot of Rolling Stones tracks were played. For over two months she would do the midnight to three slot, and she called it ‘Pillow Talk with Kat’. She was so natural that people forgot she was on the radio, and almost believed she was in their bedroom talking to only them – the sign of a true communicator. Dave would do the nine to midnight slot, then hand over to ‘Kat’, as she became known on the station. He would then stick around to help her, coming in on the show from time to time teasing her and having a laugh, all in the best possible taste, but sometimes being a little bit naughty. She sometimes even did the show topless. Well, you could get away with that on a radio ship in the North Sea, and the listeners’ imagination did the rest! At this time in the morning, Frank didn’t bother. In fact, he encouraged it. When her show ended, a three-hour recording of the Mermaid Club would be played until six, when the first Dutch DJ would open up the Breakfast Show on the daytime Dutch service. Dave and Katharina would then go into the galley, fix some bacon rolls and coffee, and weather permitting, take them out onto the aft deck and lounge back on deck chairs, watching the sun rise over the North Sea – the most magical experience they had ever witnessed in their lives. By five o’ clock, they were falling asleep and would go to their cabin. Katharina had to be up by eleven to get lunch ready for the DJs and crew, and Dave had to be up by twelve to prepare the ‘Drivetime Show’ which he presented from three to six. He often got up earlier, though, just so he could listen to the Dutch DJs doing their stuff. They were absolute masters of their craft, riding the discs like a true jockey, creating wall-to-wall sound, talking up intros to a nanosecond before the lyrics started, and even playing certain jingles over the record intros so precisely that a computer couldn’t even do it better. Dave would sit in the studio mesmerised by all this. Sometimes he would stick a tape in a cassette deck and record their shows from a feed on the desk so he could keep them for posterity.
It was on one of these magical mornings on the aft deck, watching the sun rise at four that the phone call came. Captain Visser came out onto the deck looking for them and said, “I have telephone call for Katharina Bloch from Scheveningen Radio, the maritime coastal radio station. The ship to shore call is booked for 04:10 and will be placed then. Can you please come up to the bridge?”
Katharina’s heart leapt and she felt all of the colour draining from her cheeks. She never got phone calls, especially at four in the morning. Something was wrong, she thought, something must be terribly wrong. She started shivering and shaking. Dave put his arm around her, and they went up the steel stairway.
They went onto the bridge, and closed the door. It was warm and cosy in there. There was a comforting whine coming from various pieces of equipment. Captain Visser was drinking coffee, and he put his mug down beside a detective novel he had been reading which was lying face down on the desk.
The captain welcomed them in, and said awkwardly, “Nice morning, isn’t it? Nice. Very nice. Good sea. Nice sunrise. Nice calm sea.”
At that moment, the radio crackled into life: “Mermaid, Mermaid, Mermaid. This is Scheveningen Radio, Scheveningen Radio. Mermaid, Mermaid, Mermaid, do you read Scheveningen Radio? Over.”
The captain picked up the microphone and pressed the ‘speak’ button.
“Scheveningen Radio, Scheveningen Radio, Scheveningen Radio, this is the MV Mermaid receiving you, go ahead. Over.”
“Mermaid, Mermaid, Mermaid, Scheveningen Radio. I have a call from Vienna for a Katharina Bloch. Is the party ready to receive the call? Over.”
The captain replied, “Scheveningen Radio, Scheveningen Radio, this is the Mermaid. Affirmative, go ahead. Over.”
There was a fifteen second pause, then a couple of clicks and the station operator was heard to say, “Please go ahead, caller.”
The captain handed the microphone to Katharina, and told her to say ‘over’ when she was finished speaking. A background whine appeared on the radio, and a nervous-sounding voice came over the whine.
“Katharina, Sind Sie dort?” She instantly recognised the voice.
“Uncle Josef, what is wrong? Please speak English, my boyfriend is here. There is something wrong, isn’t there?” She was shaking like a leaf, and so nervous that she forgot to say ‘over’. She pressed the ‘speak’ button again and said “over.”
“Katharina, my darling child, I am afraid I have some bad news for you. Very bad news. Are you ready? Over.”
“It’s Papa, Uncle Josef, it’s Papa isn’t it? Over.” She already felt the unstoppable surge of tears welling up in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry, my darling, your Papa passed away this morning. He was in the hospital for a routine operation, and he never came out of the anaesthetic. I am so sorry, Katharina. Over.”
She couldn’t reply. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t stand. With an expression of sheer agony on her beautiful face, she let out a long, mournful yell as she collapsed, and the captain caught hold of her before she hit the floor, the microphone crashing onto the desk.
Dave picked it up, hesitated, and then pressed the ‘speak’ button.
“Josef, this is Dave, Katharina’s boyfriend. She is in shock. Please hold on a moment. Over.”
“Dave, this is Josef, how is she? Is she OK? Over.”
“Joseph, she is sitting down and the captain is giving her a brandy and holding her head. She’s totally shocked, Josef, totally shocked. So am I, Josef. I will have to go and help her. Over.”
“Dave, will you please take this information. The funeral will be next Friday. I have left a whole week to help Katharina get back here. Do you think that will be OK? She must come to her Papa’s apartment, I will be staying there. Over.”
“Josef, we will do everything for her to make sure she can be there. This must have been very difficult for you. I will let you go now and I will see to Katharina. She needs me right now. Goodbye. Over.”
“OK, Dave. I go now. Please give my darling girl all my love and tell her I am thinking of her all the time, and I will see her next week. Over.”
“I will, Josef, I will. Goodbye.” Dave handed the microphone to the captain, who pressed the ‘speak’ button and said, “Scheveningen Radio, this is Mermaid. Call ended. Over.”
“Call ended at 04:19, timed at nine minutes. Thank you, Mermaid. Over and standing by.”
Then there was total silence, except for the whine of the electronic equipment and the continuous deep purring of the enormous diesel generator on the aft deck, providing the vital power for the transmitter to send ten kilowatts of energy up the antenna carrying the programmes of Mermaid Radio, as if nothing had happened. The radio burst into life again with a routine ‘all ships’ message from Scheveningen Radio. The captain turned the volume right down – they weren’t going anywhere.
Katharina sat slumped at the desk, sobbing uncontrollably, her shoulders leaping involuntarily with each cry of anguish. Dave stood over her with his arm around her, cuddling her and kissing her forehead. He looked up at the captain, a big gruff ex-ocean-going tugboat man, who looked completely helpless. Captain Visser was out of his depth here. He was more used to dealing with rough and ready crewmen, and this was all new to him. He leaned over to Katharina, and topped up her glass from the brandy bottle. Then he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his top shirt pocket, removed one and lit it. He handed the lit cigarette to her, and without thinking, she took it. The brandy was beginning to kick in, and she was starting to calm down as she felt a warm and pleasant feeling spread through her body. She took a drag on the cigarette, and the taste immediately took her back to her eighteenth birthday night out. She took another one, and inhaled deeply. She felt a calming sensation sweep through her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and she started to feel better. Then she spoke.
“Look at Katharina, this is very bad of her. She is so sorry to upset you.”
Dave replied, “No, no, love. You’ve had a terrible shock, but you are doing fine. I will look after you. Finish your brandy and cigarette and I’ll take you down to the cabin. You must try to get some sleep.”
She didn’t get much sleep, and neither did Dave. He went back up to the bridge at nine, and asked the captain to book a call to Frank at the Mermaid Club. The ship to shore service was very busy at that time, but he got a call booked for ten.
Frank sounded very upset at the news, and said he would arrange everything for Katharina to attend the funeral. The supply tender didn’t come to the ship until Tuesday, so he arranged for her to be lifted by helicopter later in the day. He had a client of the Mermaid Club who ran a helicopter charter company, and luckily he owed Frank a favour. Also, as luck would have it, the helicopter was doing some survey work along the coast, and would divert out to the ship after the work was finished to pick her up. The Mermaid had a large helipad built over the bow of the ship, and Frank thought it would always be good to have for emergencies. He was right.
The helicopter arrived at the ship right on time. From there, it would take her to Schiphol Airport, where Frank had booked a flight to Vienna. On arrival at Vienna, she would take a taxi to the apartment.
Katharina had never been in a helicopter before, and the excitement of it distracted her just a little bit from the real reason for the journey. At Schiphol Airport, she asked a friendly girl at the check-in desk for full information about where to board the plane, as she certainly wasn’t a seasoned traveller.
For the whole journey, it was as if she was on automatic pilot. She went through the motions like a robot, still feeling numb from the shock of it all. When she arrived at the apartment it was early evening, and as she walked up the steep narrow staircase with a heavy feeling in her stomach, her Uncle Josef was there to greet her at the door as he had been watching out for her. They both embraced, and hugged each other for a long time. Their silence said it all – she had lost her father and her only surviving parent – he had lost his only brother.
“Come and sit down, my sweet, you must be very tired,” he said, eventually. “I have prepared a simple meal. It is just a ham salad, I hope that is OK.”
“That is just fine, Uncle Josef,” she said, and pulled up a chair at the set table.
“I have to leave in one hour,” Josef continued. “I have a colleague covering for me at the hotel, but he cannot work past eight, so I have to do my night porter shift. Will you be OK on your own? I will come and see you tomorrow evening before work, after I have had some sleep. I still have arrangements to make for the funeral, and people to phone, so I will be busy for a few days. It’s good I am on the night shift just now as I can do these things during the day.”
“That’s all right, Uncle Josef, I will probably do a lot of sleeping, then go round the shops in town to try to take my mind off things.”
“Good. Good, my precious.” Josef loved her like a daughter. “I have written the number of the hotel down on the pad just in case you need me.”
“Thank you. I should be OK after some sleep.”
They sat and ate their meal, and Josef gave Katharina the funeral details. A car was to pick her up at eleven thirty on Friday morning. Then they talked about what she had been doing over the last few months. After an hour, Josef got up to leave, and said, “Oh, I nearly forgot, the hospital gave me your Papa’s belongings. They are on the sideboard in a plastic bag.” He kissed her, and she saw him out.
Katharina returned to the table and poured herself another cup of coffee. She sat there, contemplating, just trying to take it all in. After twenty minutes, she started to clear the table. She took the dishes through to the kitchen and washed them, placing them on the drying board. She dreaded going back into the room, but she did, and stopped in front of the sideboard. The polythene bag was directly in front of her, staring her in the face. Her hand was shaking as she reached out and picked it up. In it were four items: her Papa’s wallet, his keys, glasses, and a sealed envelope. She took out the wallet and opened it. There was a little money, a credit card, a plastic public transport season ticket, and a little clear plastic holder containing two photographs, back to back. The first one was of her at her eighteenth birthday celebration. She saw a young, happy, smiling girl, holding a glass of white wine in one hand up to the camera, and waving with her other hand. Her two best friends were jostling to get into the picture at either side of her. On the reverse side was a picture of her Mama, taken on the banks of the Danube on a hot summer’s day. She’s much more beautiful than me, Katharina thought, even with her thick glasses. I have inherited her poor eyesight, but not her good looks. She was always hard on herself.
Then she took out the sealed envelope. It had her name on it. She hesitated, holding it for a minute, and then she put it down on the sideboard. Shaking, she picked it up again and carefully opened it. She read:
My darling Katharina,
If you are reading this right now, then something terrible has happened, and I am so, so sorry for putting you through this, my precious. I am writing this in hospital, waiting for an operation as I have been in pain for a week now, but I didn’t want to worry you. It is a routine operation, but you never know what could go wrong, and I hope I will be able to tear this letter up. If I recovered, I was going to come to see you and your young man in Holland. I would love to have seen all the sights with you both. Please take care of each other for me.
I will always think of you wherever I am, and please don’t forget me, my darling.
Love, kisses and hugs from your ever loving Papa.
XXXXXX
She had to hold the letter close to her nose to focus on it as his writing was very spidery. Also it didn’t help that her eyes kept flooding with tears, and she had to stop twice to dry them. She carefully folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. She would cherish it forever. She then took the glasses out of the bag and held them to her heart, still sobbing. She put them up against her cheek and held them close, then she sniffed them, and was sure she could smell her Papa. She could barely remember her Mama, but she always felt like she was there looking down on her, guiding her through life, so much so that she would sometimes talk to her. Now she felt a very strong presence, and wondered if her Papa was doing the same. She would always know he was close to her. A thought suddenly struck her: Papa would now be with her Mama, together again, and they would both be happy. She would be happy for both of them, and this made her feel a whole lot better. She was on her own now, an orphan. But she did have Dave, and she was missing him so much.
On the sideboard was a bottle of her Papa’s favourite Napoleon brandy. She was already feeling very close to him, and she thought a glass of his brandy would make them closer, so she poured a stiff measure. She remembered the brandy on the ship, and she had found it comforting. She then went through to her room to get the big floppy rabbit – one of the first toys he had bought her, and picked it up. Going back into the living room, she sat down in her Papa’s favourite chair with brandy and floppy rabbit. The brandy went down nicely while she cuddled the rabbit, giving her that warm, comforting glow. She turned on the TV and started to watch a film, not paying much attention to the plot. Her head was spinning too much with everything that had gone on, and the brandy was contributing to the spinning in its own way. She was going to get through all this with the help of her Mama and Papa. Her Uncle Josef and Aunt Petra were good to her too.
The film was rubbish, and it was half way through, but she watched it until the end, comforted by the company, rather than sitting on her own in silence. At ten-thirty, she turned the TV off and poured herself another brandy. For medicinal purposes, she told herself. She looked around the room, wondering what would happen to all of her Papa’s stuff; wondering what would happen to the apartment. The lease was in her Papa’s name. Would she have to sort it all out? It was too late to think about at this time of night.
She cleaned her teeth, then went through to her room and changed into her nightie. Her Papa had given it to her last Christmas. Funny how everything she touched now would have a connection to him, she thought. She climbed into bed with her floppy rabbit and her little Walkman radio/cassette, and tuned it to Mermaid Radio’s frequency. She couldn’t believe it when she heard the weak, distorted signal, almost being swamped by a strong German station on an adjacent wavelength. ‘Dedicated to the One I Love’ by the Mamas and Papas was playing, and when it finished, she could just make out Dave’s unmistakeable voice struggling across the airwaves saying, “And I dedicate that one to my darling Katharina if you’re listening. I love you, sweetheart.”
“And I dedicate that one to my Mama and Papa,” she said out loud, pushing back the tears.
She took her glasses off, folded their legs, and put them carefully down on the bedside cabinet where she could easily locate them when she woke up. She fell asleep cuddling her rabbit, and listening to the rest of Dave’s show as it faded in and out.
She slept right through to midday, then, yawning, looked at the alarm clock on the bedside cabinet. “Ten past twelve!” she shrieked. She quickly got up, went to the bathroom and had a shower. She came out of the shower, and on her way back to her room, she paused to look at herself in the hall mirror, and she liked what she saw. I may not be beautiful, she thought, but at least I’m the right shape! She was always running her looks down, but all things considered, she thought she was passable. Now, what to wear today?
She decided to go into the city centre to buy something suitable to wear for the funeral, as all of the clothes she owned were casual. She put on a well-worn pair of stone washed jeans, and decided to put on her new Mermaid Radio T-shirt, with her picture printed on the front in the mermaid costume. After slipping into a pair of comfy trainers, she slung a denim jacket over her shoulder, headed for the door – and stopped dead. Turning back, she lifted her corduroy peaked cap from the coat rack, put it on as a finishing touch, and checked herself in the mirror. Satisfied with the result, she went out.
She hesitated in the apartment building entrance hall, which was really just a dim passageway leading to the stairs, with electricity junction boxes and pipes adorning the flaking paintwork on the faded walls. Then, slowly emerging into the brightness of the street, she nervously blinked and looked around. For the first time, she faced a world without her Papa. She thought it strange that everything was going on as normal as if nothing had happened. People driving cars, buses, trucks and motor bikes. People shopping, laughing and joking over coffee in pavement cafes, oblivious to what's going on in her life. Didn’t people know? Didn’t they care? Of course not! This was going to take a bit of getting used to. She glanced at herself in the shop windows as she passed, and realised she was just going to have to get on with it.
Her first port of call, she decided, was to be a little ladies’ wear boutique up a side lane off one of the main streets, called Pastiche. She had shopped there before, mainly for casual tops and jeans, but she knew that they also stocked more formal wear. She knew the owner, which helped, although it had been a few years since she had been there. As she went in, the little brass bell on the door tinkled. There was no sign of anyone, and she looked around for about a minute before the owner came through a beaded curtain from the back shop.
“Yes, madam, how may I help you?” she said.
Katharina saw she was looking at her with a slightly puzzled expression, and then the owner spoke again.
“Wait a minute . . . it’s . . . it’s . . .” she stammered.
“Hello, Maria. It’s Katharina Bloch. You remember me?”
“Yes, yes. I didn’t recognise you at first; you look so . . . grown up!”
She told Maria why she was there, and Maria gave her sympathies, and said she had heard about her father. She selected a very formal two-piece suit for Katharina to try on, and a plain white blouse to go with it. She went into the fitting room, and came out a few minutes later totally transformed. She looked like some top executive’s PA, and she had aged about ten years.
Maria gave her a professional appraisal from top to bottom, straightened the skirt a little, pulled the collars of the jacket in a bit closer, and stood back. She was like an artist admiring her finished painting.
“Very nice, very nice, Katharina. You will do your father proud in this outfit. However, you do need suitable shoes. I always keep shoes in stock to go with my formal outfits. I remember your size, now try these on.”
The result was perfection personified.
“I’m glad I came here, Maria, I knew you would help me out. You know I am only a jeans and T-shirt girl!”
“It’s a pleasure, Katharina; I just wish it had been in happier circumstances.”
She paid for the goods, and after exchanging goodbyes, she left.
She walked back to the main street and headed for the city centre for lunch. She was spoilt for choice with all the cafés and restaurants this wonderful city had to offer. She loved this place, and wondered why she had ever left it. Switzerland had sounded good at the time, but after her best friend left for London, it was miserable. Until Dave came along, that is. Now she thought it was a good thing that she had gone to St Moritz.
She remembered this café. Happy memories of being here as a child, and later as a teenager with her friends came flooding back. It was very busy, but she found an outside table in the sun, and studied the menu. After five minutes, the waitress came over for her order. She ordered a hot dog with fries on the side, and a white wine. She remembered the hot dogs here were out of this world. While she was waiting for her order, she noticed a group of two men and a girl two tables away looking at her. She thought that maybe one of the men fancied her, and he was trying to pluck up courage to approach her. She felt slightly flattered. The waitress brought her order, and she started to eat. This was getting a little bit unnerving. Every time she glanced up, she made eye contact with the man in the group who was watching her, and then he would nervously turn away. There is definitely something going on here, she thought. She finished her hot dog and fries, and slowly sipped her wine. Right at that point, the man who was watching her got up from his seat, and came over to her. Her heart leapt with surprise when he said, “It is you, isn’t it? It’s Kat, the Mermaid Radio girl.”
She felt relieved – she wasn’t going to have to ward off unwelcome advances. She let out a little squeal as she always did when she was caught on the hop, and nodded her head, laughing, her beautiful blonde hair dancing about. At that exact moment, the other man jumped over from his seat, knocking another seat over, produced a professional camera from nowhere and started shooting . . . click . . . click . . . click.
“Great! Great! Fantastic!” he shouted. “What a terrific shot. You look terrific, Kat. We’ve got a winner here! This will be on the front cover of Poparama next week. Now, give us the low down on what you’re doing here.”
It transpired that they were in Vienna covering a rock concert that weekend, and were killing time before their flight back to Holland, and couldn’t believe their luck when they saw her.
“Oh, I can’t say anything.” she protested, “You will have to check it out with Frank Bentley.”
“No need,” the cameraman said, “you’re public property as far as Poparama is concerned. We have carte blanche to publish anything we want about Mermaid Radio. It’s in the contract, and this is hot. You are hot, love.”
She thought she would put them right. “I am here for my father’s funeral. He died last week, so please show some respect.”
“We’re very sorry,” the cameraman said. “We will publish the picture on the cover, and do a little tasteful piece inside, so if you can just tell us what you have been doing today, we will keep it nice and simple.”
She told them she had been buying an outfit for the funeral, and at the girl’s request, she took it out to show them. Click . . . click . . . click, went the camera. By this time, a small crowd had gathered, including some German and British tourists. The Germans barged up to her table and asked for autographs on menus, newspapers, napkins and anything else to hand. She was in deep here, and felt she only had two choices. Either get up and run, or sign the autographs. She hadn’t paid for her meal, so she thought if she got up and ran, it would make even bigger news, probably in the papers too, and she would have the police after her! She started to sign the autographs while the camera went click . . . click . . . clic