The Patti Smith Group track was coming to an end – rapidly, and Dave had forgotten that it ended so suddenly on this CD and it went straight into the next track if you weren’t careful. His inattention was really down to the fact that he was night-day dreaming too much. Oops! – time to speak!
“And, that’s what you get for selecting one track from that CD, because they all run into each other you see, and when you select one track it just chops you off without any warning – ooh! – painful! Right. That’s the Patti Smith Group there from a great album of theirs, and I love the Patti Smith Group. I better give you some titles here of what we’ve been playing – let’s see – prior to that, what did we have? Well, since we started, we’ve had Reef, Place Your Hands, and we’ve had . . . what else have we had? Oh yeah, a great one from Suzanne Vega and Men in a War, and in the three that started the programme off we began with Meat Loaf, of course, and You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth (Hot Summer Night), just like tonight, and went into . . . umm . . . a whole lot of other stuff. I don’t know – I just can’t remember. It is too hot, it’s too hot, man, and I’m just trying to figure out what flew in here. I don’t know what it was, but I caught sight of it under the desk. It’s a sort of brownish-yellow colour with red markings, and it moved, but it won’t come out. I don’t know . . . I’m going to have to do something about this, because I don’t know if I can continue on the programme with some wildlife roaming around in the studio. We’ll have another think about that. If you want to call us – let us know what you’re doing right now, or would just like a dedication for the lovely lady or guy in your life, the number as always is 01339 450450”
Dave played another Strathdee FM jingle featuring the dulcet tones of Mrs Benson. She actually sounds damned good on these jingles, he thought. Then he went into the next track, and talked up the intro.
“This is a great one from Don Henley, from the album ‘Building the Perfect Beast’, and a track called ‘Down at the Sunset Grill’. Somewhere I wouldn’t mind being right now with a nice, long, ice-cold drink.” This was another of his favourite tracks – full of atmosphere. Tonight, it reminded him of Tammy’s Truck Stop, and his first encounter with the lovely Tammy, ‘The Pride of Strathdee’!
Dave had been hanging around Walton-on-the-Naze for three or four weeks, taking stock, and wondering what to do next. Tom had gone after a couple of nights, saying he was going to try to get back to Canada. Dave’s main concern was for Katharina but he didn’t have her phone number, and he hadn’t kept a note of her address. He was going to have to go back to Vienna and physically track her down, but he had no money. Dave’s father was a chartered accountant and he worked from home in a large conservatory built onto the rear of their house. He offered Dave some routine work to help him out, doing tax and VAT returns for some regular clients. Dave was glad of the diversion and the money, and at night they would take the boat out on the backwater for a bit of fishing. That’s the time when his mind would wander. He couldn’t concentrate on the fishing – all he could think about was Katharina. He had told his parents all about her, so much so that they felt they knew her as much as he did. He could have kicked himself for not taking her father’s address and phone number with him when he jumped ship. She didn’t have his parents’ address or phone number either. It was a mess! He decided, once he had saved enough money, he would go back to Vienna and track her down. It should be easy.
It was a sunny Saturday, Dave and his father had been doing some fishing from the boat in the backwater, and then they decided to go out into the open sea and give it a bit of a blast down to Frinton then back home for tea. When they got back, they moored the boat and walked up to the house, laughing and joking. Dave’s dad, Arthur, was in his element – he loved days like this. Back at the house, Arthur cracked open a couple of beers from the fridge, and they sat out in the garden to drink them. His mum, Marge, came out from the kitchen and said, “Shall we dine al fresco, boys, it’s so nice tonight? It’s just a ham salad with a fresh fruit salad for dessert. Then you two can go down to the pub for an hour or two.”
“Sounds good to me, Marge,” said Arthur. He loved these times with his boy, but Dave had said he didn’t really want to stick around in Walton, so they made the most of the present.
They were half way through their meal when the phone rang in the house. Marge went in to answer it, then came out and said, “David, it’s for you.”
Dave leapt off his seat and shouted, “Katharina. Is it Katharina, Mum?”
“No, dear. It’s a man. I think he said his name was Frank. That’s your radio chappie, isn’t it?”
Dave’s heart pounded. They’ve found us, he thought, they want an arm and a leg. We’re doomed!
He went into the house and picked up the phone.
“Hello, Frank?”
“Hi Dave. Boy, it’s good to hear you, my lad. So you made it home safely?”
“Yes, Frank. No bother. The boat was great, do you want it back?”
“Hell, no, you keep it. It’s the least I can do.”
“Where are you, Frank, are you OK?”
“I’m fine, Dave. I got married a few weeks ago, and I’m in Scotland now.”
Dave almost dropped the phone. “MARRIED? SCOTLAND? Hell, Frank, you never fail to amaze me! What are you doing?”
“Before I tell you that, let me ask you what you’re doing.”
“Not a lot in general, and nothing much in particular,” said Dave, shrugging his shoulders even though he was on the phone.
“Good. Good,” said Frank, “I’ve got a proposition for you.”
Alarm bells started ringing in Dave’s head. Frank’s propositions usually came with loads of strings attached, and dripping with potential problems, like people wanting to skin you alive, or worse!
“Oh, I don’t know, Frank. Do you have Katharina’s phone number? Have you spoken to her?”
“Never mind that just now, my lad, this is a cracker. You’ll love this one!”
“I don’t know, Frank, you’re too dangerous to have around! I value my life – and my sanity!”
“I’ve got a radio station and I want you as my top man.”
“What?” spluttered Dave, incredulously.
“That’s right. A proper, legal, legit radio station called Strathdee FM, in the darkest depths of bonnie Scotland. I’ve also got a majority share in a plant contracting business too, but the station’s all mine. It’s a terrific little place, Dave; it’s like being on holiday all the time! I need you, Dave. The station needs you.”
“I’ll need to think about it, Frank. I don’t want to end up like the last time.” Dave had learned a lot of lessons lately at the University of Life!
“I need an answer tonight Dave. I’ll give you a company vehicle – all expenses paid.”
“Do you have Katharina’s phone number, Frank?”
“I’ll get to that in a minute. Give me your answer first, and make it a ‘yes’.”
Still not convinced, Dave said, “I’m really not sure, Frank. I’d need to find somewhere to stay.”
Frank was like a dog with a slipper! “Dave, Dave lad. You drive a hard bargain. OK, I’ll also give you detached company accommodation in a lovely location, no charge and all expenses paid except your food. And I’ll pay you twice what you got on the Mermaid. Now what do you say?”
Dave lost the battle. “OK, Frank, you win.”
“Good man! Good man! You won’t regret this, I promise you. I did say I’d make things up to you, so I’m sticking to my word. Spit on the phone – I’ve just done it! That’s our deal sealed!” How is it I always get an uneasy feeling when people say ‘you won’t regret this’? Dave thought.
“Now, can you give me Katharina’s number please, Frank?”
Frank hesitated. “Dave . . . I had it . . . I phoned her from Spain. I . . . er . . . lost it in Spain.”
“Aw Frank, how could you? Well that’s it. I’ll never get her back now. Thanks a lot, mate!”
“Sorry lad. Something will turn up. You mark my words. Now, I want you to get up here ASAP. How about tomorrow? Get a pen and some paper. Got one? Good! Now write this down. Head for Aberdeen, then up the A93 through Aboyne, then take the road for Strathdee. Two miles out of Strathdee, take a farm track to Mains of Clarty. I’ll see you when you get here. Better make it Monday; it’s a long journey for one day. Bye. Oh, one more thing, I’m Francis Benson now. Frank Bentley doesn’t exist anymore.”
“OK Frank, I look forward to it,” said Dave, his tongue very firmly in his cheek!
He went back out to the garden, and sat down to finish his meal.
“Well, I’ve just got a job, folks!” he announced.
“Oh lovely,” Marge said. “What is it, dear?”
“My old boss has got himself a radio station and he wants me to run it – up in Aberdeenshire.”
“That’s nice, dear,” Marge said in her usual ‘mumsy’ way. “When do you start?”
“He wants me there Monday, so I’d better get going. Oh, by the way, you’ve to keep the boat.”
His mother looked at him and said, “Look, darling, I’ve been telling your Dad that we need a little break, so why don’t we drive you up there tomorrow in the Jaguar. We’ll break the journey half way somewhere in a hotel, and then we’ll have plenty of time to find the place on Monday. We can find a hotel or a bed and breakfast in the area for a few days. What do you think, Arthur?”
“Super idea, Marge,” Arthur said. “Dave’s been such a great help that I’m well ahead with my work. Let’s do it.”
That night, Dave packed his things, only this time his mother made sure he took a lot more than he did when he went to Switzerland. They spent the next two days travelling, stopping overnight in a lovely hotel in the Scottish Borders.
They eventually found Strathdee, and they all agreed it was the quaintest, most picturesque little village they had ever seen. They had to ask a man with a tweed cap and a sheepdog for directions to Mains of Clarty. In fact, they had to ask him three times because they just couldn’t understand the strong local dialect – it was like a foreign language. Eventually, they got him to draw a little map on a piece of paper, and they set off.
They found a badly rusted signpost saying, ‘Mains of Cla’. The sign was so weather-beaten that the letters just faded away into nothing. The Jaguar bumped and jolted up the deeply potholed farm track, with the high grass ridge in the middle of the track brushing against the underside of the car.
“Well, at least my engine sump will be nice and clean,” joked Arthur.
The track gradually got worse and worse and they were beginning to think it was going nowhere, when around a bend it opened up into a farmyard. Well, it used to be a farmyard. Now it was a clutter of broken, rusting lorries, cars, diggers, cement mixers and various other bits of flotsam and jetsam associated with the plant hire profession. A black and white collie dog was facing up to their car, barking like mad and trying to herd the car into a corner. Dave spotted a prefabricated building over in the far corner of the yard, with a microwave dish mounted on the roof, pointing up to the hill behind them. Mounted on the door of the building, made out of a yellow car number plate, was a notice bearing the legend, ‘STRATHDEE FM’.
They got out of the car, and the dog held them at bay with a mixed show of emotions, growling and wagging its tail at the same time. The farmhouse front door opened and Raymond Gillies appeared, being ushered out by Frank. They shook hands, and Raymond looked very solemn as he got into his black Lexus and drove off Catching sight of the Jaguar, Frank came over to them with his arms open.
“Dave, my boy, fantastic to see you. Thanks a million for coming. I see you’ve met Shona. She’s quite harmless really. She came with the farm, so it looks like we’re stuck with her.”
Dave introduced his parents, and while they were chatting a woman appeared at the farmhouse door. Frank called over to her, “Tamara, darling, come over and meet a very good friend of mine.”
She walked over, and Frank introduced her to them. He told them about how he had married her in Spain so she could get into the UK, then on their way to Britain he detected a spark between them. As he put it, the spark ignited a flame, and the fire was so intense that they decided to stay together and make a go of it, with Tamara taking on the role of business administrator with the company.
“You’ve got a soppy old streak in you after all,” Dave laughed as he tousled Frank’s hair.
Slightly embarrassed, Frank said, “All right, enough of that. Let’s get down to business. I’ll show you the studio.”
“We’ll just get away, dear,” Marge said. “We’ll look for a hotel for a few nights, and we’ll come back to see you before we leave for home.”
“There’s the Station Hotel down in the village if you like,” said Frank. “It’s nothing fancy, but you will get very good home cooking.”
“OK, thank you, we’ll try that. Bye bye now, darling.” Marge kissed Dave, Arthur shook his hand and after unloading Dave’s case, they left.
Frank took Dave over to the studio building and they went in. It was deceptively spacious inside, with a reception area, the main studio where a local DJ was presenting the afternoon show, and a production studio for making commercials and trails, which also doubled as a newsroom for local news. The national news was taken on a feed from the Independent Radio News service. Behind the two studios were a little office, a kitchen and a toilet. It didn’t look much from the outside, but Dave was quite impressed. They stepped outside and Frank pointed out the dish on the roof.
“That’s the microwave link which sends the station output up to the transmitter which is behind us up on the hill. You can’t see it from here because of the trees, but there is a track going right up to it and you can get up in a Land Rover. I’ll show you it later. Right, my boy, have you eaten?”
“Not since lunch,” replied Dave. “I was going to have something with my folks after we’d found the place.”
“Well, they’re off to the hotel now, and they’ll get a good meal there, but we’ve got other plans.” Frank ushered him over to his Range Rover. “I’m going to take you to the best little eating house outside of Texas, so to speak! Tammy’s Truck Stop – an experience not to be missed!”
As they drove off, Dave wanted to ask about his company vehicle and company accommodation, but Frank continued the conversation with a history lesson.
“Tammy’s old man was a trawler man with his own boat, and her old lady was a fishwife in Aberdeen, gutting and packing the fish in the market. Now, he got quite a sizeable sum from the government for de-commissioning his boat, and he bought the truck stop for his daughter. She had no qualifications from school or anywhere, and he didn’t want her ending up gutting fish like her mother. Then he popped his clogs. Her mother’s still alive, though. Comes out here for her holidays.
“At first, the café was a great success, but the poor girl’s a bit challenged in the business management department. To put it bluntly, she’s just about to go tits-up, if you pardon the expression. Her husband won’t help her – no, wait – I’ll rephrase that. Her common-law husband won’t help her – they never got legally married. He buggered off to work on an oil rig in the North Sea, and on his leave time he goes to a bird he’s got stashed away in Norway. In fact, I don’t think he’s been home here for years, and Tammy’s got three kids. Work that one out! But she’s a tough cookie with a heart of gold, and she’s quite good looking in her own way. She sees the kids as a steady income with the allowances she gets. She’s one of life’s survivors, but this time I think she’s had it.”
“Well, at least we can buy a meal from her,” said Dave, feeling sorry for her already.
“Oh, we’re going to do a lot better than that, my boy. We’re going to buy the business from her – at a knock-down price. She’ll still run it, and she’ll still get to live in the mobile home behind the place. There you go, a little background on the lovely Tammy.”
They had reached the end of the farm track, and were now heading for the village.
Frank continued, “I know this track’s a bit rough, but we’re going to widen it and tar it. It’ll be like the M1 motorway when we're done with it! Well, almost!”
“What about my company vehicle and accommodation?” Dave finally managed to ask.
“Yes, I’ve not forgotten. The vehicle’s sitting in the yard – it’s a classy piece of kit – very fitting for the area. Now, your pad is something else. It’s exclusive, and it’s in the most idyllic location you could ever imagine. You’re going to love it. You’ll feel like you’re permanently on holiday. I’ll take you up after we’ve had our meal.”
Dave thought this sounded too good to be true. Frank was certainly coming up trumps. All his Christmases had come at once - at last!
As they drove through the village, Dave saw his folks’ Jaguar parked outside the Station Hotel. They must have got fixed up, he thought.
Frank drove on out of the village. He had Strathdee FM playing on the radio, and the DJ was doing a ‘lost pets’ feature, reading out details of a dog, two cats and a rabbit that were missing. Dave couldn’t help thinking that the dog probably had the cats for dinner, and was saving the rabbit for supper!
Two miles out of the village, Frank slowed down as they approached a building on their right, set back off the road and surrounded by a pine forest on three sides, with a large muddy parking area in front of it. A pink neon sign above the door declared: ‘MMY’S TRUCK OP’. Some of the letters weren’t working, and the word ‘truck’ was flickering out and in – unintentionally. Parked in front of the building, and taking up about half of the car park, was a huge Scania articulated truck with a low-loader trailer. It had an impressive row of six huge halogen spot lamps mounted along the roof, and another row of four mounted on the front bull bar. The lettering on the truck read ‘Neil Morrison – Plant Contractor – Mains of Clarty - Strathdee’.
“Oh good,” said Frank as he parked beside it, “Archie’s here. That’ll give you a chance to meet him. He’s been dropping off a JCB up at Lord Strathdee’s Estate. We’re doing a bit of drainage work for him. Archie Murdoch is our main man. What he doesn’t know about trucks and diggers isn’t worth knowing. He’s been driving them and working on them since he was five! We’re going to have to get these vehicles re-lettered, though. That’s the next job.”
They walked into the café, and immediately Dave felt a homely feeling. He liked this place. There was a scrumptious smell of home cooking, and a country and western track was playing on the juke box. A little girl of about three was sitting at one of the tables scribbling in a colouring book. At a window table, taking up the space of two people, sat an enormous bear of a man with thick greasy shoulder-length hair and a full Rob Roy beard. He had on a pair of dark blue oil-impregnated overalls, and a pair of mud-encrusted rigger boots, with the zips open and their tongues hanging out like two starved abandoned animals. This was Archie Murdoch. He was also tucking into a huge shepherd’s pie, and drinking a pint of milk along with it, straight from the carton.
Frank introduced Dave to him, and his first comment to Dave was: “You must have a screw loose to come and work in this God-forsaken place!”
Taken aback, Dave replied, “From what I've seen so far, I think it’s a beautiful place. It’s like somewhere you would come to on holiday’”
Quick as a flash, Archie came back with, “Wait till you’ve been here a few months – that’ll all change. And wait till the winter . . . I’m not saying any more. Just wait till the winter!”
“Are you taking the truck home tonight?” Frank asked Archie.
“If you think I’m battling up that bloody farm track again at this time of night with that monster, then you’ve got a screw loose. You want to get that road sorted. We’re going to lose a load over the edge there sometime soon, you mark my words. I can feel it in my water. And it won’t be my fault – it’ll be yours for not doing anything about it. You’ve got to get it sorted.” He took another shovelful of shepherd’s pie and washed it down with a big slurp of milk.
Frank wondered sometimes who was the boss, but you couldn’t win with Archie – he always got the upper hand.
“Nobody serving around here?” Frank shouted out.
“The lassie’s through the back giving one of the bairns a bath,” said Archie.
At that point, a plump, smiling woman appeared, carrying a dripping child wrapped in a towel.
“What’s all the flippin’ noise about?” she asked.
“You’ve got customers,” Archie growled.
Frank introduced Dave to Tammy, and her eyes lit up.
“Ooh, are you a proper DJ? Not like the amateurs around here?” she asked.
“Oh, I don’t know about that. I have been on the radio before down south, so if that makes me a ‘proper DJ’, then I am.”
She came right up close to him and said in his ear, “Have you got a big ego?”
“Tammy, leave the lad alone,” Frank shouted, “he’s only just got here and you’ve already got him undressed! Now, what’s on the menu?”
“You can have anything you want, as long as it’s shepherd’s pie – I’ve got loads of it. I’ve got my speciality apple crumble to follow, and I know you like that, Frank.”
“Shepherd’s pie, Dave?”
Dave nodded.
“Ok, we’ll have two shepherd’s pies and two apple crumbles. I’ll have a coffee, what about you, Dave?”
“Coke please.”
“Now get off to the kitchen, woman!” Frank ordered.
“I’d get on a lot quicker if you came through and gave me a hand,” Tammy flashed her eyes at Frank.
“I know what you’re after, and I’m a happily married man, so forget it! Now get on with it!”
While they were waiting for their meals, Frank said to Archie, “Well, good news today. That’s all the council contracts in the bag. We are unofficially the preferred contractors for the whole county. Obviously all the jobs have to go out to tender, but we’ll get them all – it’s guaranteed.”
It was unusual for Archie to show any emotion over anything, but he raised one eyebrow and said, “How did you manage that, then?”
“Oh, just a bit of clever dealing over a cup of coffee with Raymond Gillies while I showed him my photograph album.”
What Frank omitted to say was what was in the photographs, and also that Raymond was going to get one percent of the income from any contracts they handled, straight into his pocket.
Frank continued, “What we’ve had promised to us, Archie, is enough to keep us going for the next year. Everything else is the icing on the cake. We’ve got the new culvert for the river diversion at Banchory; we’ve got the road re-alignment at Crathes; we’ve got the new playing fields and landscaping at six schools. Life is good, Archie, life is good!”
Unperturbed, Archie finished off his shepherd’s pie, gravy dripping from his jowels at every shovelful. At that point, Tammy appeared with two huge platefuls of shepherd’s pie.
“There’s lots more in the kitchen if you want seconds, boys,” she said.
Archie handed his plate up to her. “I’ll have some more, lass.”
Before she returned to the kitchen, she turned to Dave and said, “When are you going to be on the air so I can listen to you?”
Dave turned to Frank for the answer. “Probably from three till six in the afternoon, and then back at midnight for ninety minutes – pretty much the same as he did on his last station, starting tomorrow.”
“I look forward to it,” Tammy whispered in his ear as she went for Archie’s seconds.
“She seems very nice and friendly,” Dave said, after she was gone.
“She’s being more than friendly, believe me,” Frank quickly replied. “Just keep your wits about you, lad!”
After they had finished their meals, Frank and Dave drove back up to the farm.
“Right, we’d better get you settled into your new abode,” Frank said, as they drove into the farmyard.
“What about my company car?” Dave asked again. He was determined to hold Frank to his word.
“Yes, yes, have patience, my boy. Right, come over here with me.”
They walked over to the far corner of the yard, then round the gable end of the house. Parked there was a very beat-up Land Rover long wheelbase pick-up in a nondescript pale blue colour.
“Where are we going?” Dave asked.
“Here! Right here! This is it. This is your company car, my son.”
“WHAT! THIS? It’s a load of old junk! Look at it.” Dave was exasperated.
Every panel on the Land Rover was dented, the paint had peeled off in lots of places leaving the bare aluminium, the tyres were flat and the grass was growing up through the floor!
“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” said Frank calmly, “these are hardy vehicles – and very classy. You know, our next door neighbour runs a few of them, and you know who she is, don’t you?”
“No I don't.” Dave was getting very irritated.
“Her Majesty the Queen! The Balmoral Estate is just up the road from us. Look, don’t worry about the tyres, I’ll get Archie to blow them up tomorrow and check it over. I think it needs a new battery too – it was flat when I tried to start it today.”
This just gets better and better, thought Dave, sarcastically.
“Now for your new home. Jump in and I’ll drive you up.”
They climbed back into Frank’s Range Rover, and drove up a narrow grassy track leading up behind the farmhouse. The scenery was breathtaking. There was steep pine forest on their left, and on the right, you could see right over the valley in between the bushes. After quarter of a mile, the track ended and opened out into a flat circular area with just enough space to turn. Dave spotted a quaint little cottage on the left, nestling in the trees.
“Wow! This is fantastic, Frank. What a location. Hey . . . wait a minute . . . there are no windows in this house! And look at the roof – half the slates are missing! I can’t live here, Frank. You must be joking.”
“Steady on, old chap, this isn’t your new home. Don’t be silly! This is the old woodman’s cottage. It’s needing a bit of renovation, which I’ll get round to one day. No, yours is over here. Come on.”
They walked round to the right of the cottage, and there, in all its glory, was a caravan. This particular caravan had moss growing all over the roof, and only one wheel. Where the wheel should have been was a pile of bricks, supporting it.
“Aw Frank, you really must be kidding. This is a dump!” Dave was almost in tears.
“No, don’t be like that, my lad, think positively! Look at all the good points. Look at the location – you couldn’t get better. You’ve got privacy. It’ll clean up nice. Lots of folk would give their right arm for a home like this. Come on in, I got Tamara to light the gas fire earlier and leave it on ‘low’ to get rid of the musty smell. And there's a lavender air freshener spray there if you need it. Brand new. I just bought it today.”
When they went in, it was warm and cosy – and quite spacious. The view from the big lounge window was nothing short of spectacular, looking right across the valley to the hills on the other side. The furnishings were in very good condition, and the bedclothes were all new.
“It’s not so bad when you’re inside, Frank. I think I’ll like it here.”
“That’s the spirit, my boy. I knew you’d love it!”