by Carol Wyer
Charlie tapped him over the head with her rolled-up notes. ‘Idiot. It was a roller coaster ride. That’s all.’
‘Ah! But what next? That’s what we want to know. What will you be up to next?’
Sean came into the studio, trailed by a couple of other radio volunteers.
‘So, Sean, where did the video come from?’ asked Mercedes.
‘I thought you’d sent it,’ replied Sean.
‘No, I didn’t take it. If I’d taken it, it would have mostly been footage of people’s backs from where I was positioned.’
‘Oh, that’s odd. I received a link to the video through the hospital website. There was no email address. It just said “For the attention of City Hospital radio”. I thought you sent it to me to upload on to the site. I put the link up last night and managed to load the actual video from YouTube onto our site this morning. It’s attracting a fair amount of attention.’
‘One thousand hits when I looked,’ said Vivienne, another technician who also worked part-time on reception at the hospital. ‘Anyone know why we’re here?’
‘Meeting,’ mumbled Sean.
‘Twit! I know we’re here for a meeting. Any ideas what it is about?’
‘No. I thought it was about programme schedules and the like. Maybe they’re going to let us have a wide-screen telly in the studio with a live link to Sky. I think they’ve got one like that at Winchester.’
Sam piped up, ‘Fat chance. We’re on a tight budget here.’
Another presenter wandered in clutching cups of takeaway coffee, followed by a couple of hospital officials.
‘Good afternoon, everyone,’ said a pale-faced balding man. His hospital nametag, Mr Andrew Carnegie, was on upside down. ‘Thank you for taking the time to come here for the meeting. I could have emailed you all but I wanted to talk to you about this face-to-face because I know how special City Hospital Radio is to you all.’ Charlie felt a familiar sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. There was bad news. She could tell by the look on Andrew Carnegie’s face.
‘It’s a hard task raising the running costs on the radio station. Last year’s fundraising events – the dinner dance, the charity stall at the local market, annual grand draw, and charity coach outings – brought in one thousand, seven hundred and forty-five pounds. We received support for the service from local businesses, local trust funds and members of the public, who all contributed in their own way, taking the total up to three thousand, two hundred pounds. But that was barely enough to see us through the year.’
The room fell silent. Charlie had a bad feeling about what had not yet been said.
‘I’ve been in discussions with the board, and although we believe that City Hospital radio is a valuable asset to the community here and you all work tirelessly and give generously of your free time, we’re not going to be able to keep it running unless we find significant funding.’
There were gasps all around the studio. Charlie felt ill.
‘The equipment is, as you realise, old, and in spite of the efforts of this superb team, and we’re all very proud of you, we’re not going to be able to maintain it for much longer. On top of that, there are plans to revamp the current studio and use it to house vital medical equipment. The hospital is very tight on space and can’t afford to have us taking up valuable room. They say we can erect a structure in the car park of the hospital and use that, but again that’ll cost a large amount to set up and equip. We examined costs for running the radio. I’d like to share them with you to give you an idea of what we are up against. Sarah, can you run down the list of costs please for these good people?’
His assistant coughed then read out, ‘Ink toner for the printer fifty pounds; six months rental of phone line one hundred pounds; annual subscription to Sky for news bulletins and interviews three hundred pounds; annual internet access and infrastructure six hundred pounds; annual music copyright fees one thousand pounds; annual insurance one thousand, six hundred pounds; and new mixing deck seven thousand, five hundred pounds.’
‘Thank you, Sarah. In addition to that list, we not only need funds to relocate the studio, and we’ve had two quotes in for that, but we require funds for upkeep of the system in the hospital. We are behind the times compared to some hospitals. Really we should be offering a more modern Wi-Fi system, but as you know, some wards still have the old bedhead units and they each cost approximately seventy pounds to replace.’ The team waited for the bombshell announcement that was now obvious.
‘So, it is with a heavy heart that I have to say the prognosis for our little station is not looking too good. If anyone has any ideas of how we can resolve this, or any other fundraising ideas, or a rich relative,’ he paused but no laughs came. ‘Please let me know. Sorry to bring you bad news. Let’s hope we can turn it around and keep going.’
He waited for any comments but silence hung in the air. Mercedes looked shell-shocked. Sam put an arm around Vivienne who was suddenly tearful.
Charlie stood dumbfounded. She couldn’t let City Radio go off air. She would fight with every breath left in her to keep it going. The patients needed the station, the community needed it and she and the team here needed it. She thought about the video hits on the website, took a deep breath and said, ‘Excuse me, Andrew, I might have an idea to raise some funds.’
Twenty-Nine
‘Are you sure about this?’ asked Andrew Carnegie, after Charlie voiced her idea.
‘Charlie, it’s genius!’ said Sam.
‘I can organise it all,’ squeaked Mercedes. ‘I’ve got some wicked ideas.’
‘Not too wicked, I hope,’ smiled Charlie.
‘So, the plan is to sponsor Charlie to do outrageous challenges. She’ll take one of the team with her to video the event and Sean will upload the films onto YouTube and onto our website. We’ll collect money, as and when she completes each challenge. We could also turn it into a sort of competition and get the public to choose challenges too. We’ll pull one out of a hat each time and Charlie has to complete it. Sounds great. Any ideas for Charlie’s first challenge?’
‘We don’t need the public to choose challenges. I’ve got plenty for her and I know what the first one should be,’ said Mercedes. ‘In fact, I’ve already prepared her for it.’
‘Okay, what do you suggest?’
‘Ta-dah!’ said Mercedes, pulling out a leaflet from her pocket. Charlie caught sight of the front of it and groaned.
‘Mercedes you frightful fiend, you’re going to test me beyond my limits.’
‘“Throw someone you love off a cliff?”’ read Andrew. ‘“UK’s maddest zip wire – four hundred and ninety metres long, fifty metres high and reaching speeds of forty miles per hour. Twin parallel wires cross the flooded depths of the old quarry, sheer cliffs rise on either side”. Sounds ideal. Sarah, could you please get a press release ready. We’ll send you in four weeks’ time, Charlie. That’ll give us a chance to promote it and get some sponsors. If you could all tell everyone you know, we’ll see how this goes. Well done everyone. Well done, Charlie.’
Thirty
The four weeks went by in a flash. Charlie tried hard not to think too much about the challenge ahead but it was difficult given everyone in the hospital kept mentioning it. Even outside of the hospital, she couldn’t escape it. Patricia designed small posters about the challenge. She and Art put them up all over the town and plastered them on the door to the café.
The hospital presenters promoted the event with gusto. Sam spent every afternoon going around the wards and standing outside the hospital with a bucket, asking people to give generously to sponsor Charlie. And then there were the calls to suggest challenges. Charlie was most nervous about this. It was one thing to let her best friend pick challenges for her and altogether a different thing to let a complete stranger choose one.
‘So, if any of you want to issue Charlie with a challenge, write it out on one of our request forms and put it in the large wooden box at reception marked City Radio
. You could win the chance to accompany Charlie and have your photo taken with her if she completes the challenge. If Charlie doesn’t complete your challenge, we’ll treat you and a partner to a slap-up meal at the Zagora restaurant thanks to Fatima. Let your imagination run wild – the wackier, the better. We’ll be watching on Saturday to see if Charlie can overcome her fear of heights and slide down the UK’s largest zip wire.
‘Right without further ado let’s get onto today’s Challenge Charlie track, which is “Flying Without Wings”,’ announced Sam, turning up the volume and settling back in the chair. It creaked. He poured a cup of coffee from his thermos and tore off the end of his corned beef sandwich. He’d be lost without City Hospital Radio. He hoped fervently that Charlie’s idea would work. He’d been at the station for ten years. He told everyone he preferred working there to watching soap operas with his wife, but the truth was that he hated being at home. Brenda was always wrapped up with the grandkids, or her book club. She had so many hobbies and friends, whereas all he had was his music, and City. He didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it finished. He was sixty-five years old, retired and lonely. City Radio was his life. He drained his cup and put his headphones back on. He hoped Charlie was up to it and silently wished her well.
Thirty-One
At the quarry, Mercedes was talking to the girl at the ticket desk while Charlie chewed her fingernails.
‘We’ve been expecting you. Charlie, isn’t it? As agreed on the phone, we’ve arranged for you to do the wire for free. It’s for a good cause. I’ve never spent time in hospital but my sister did. I don’t know if there was a radio there. She was only in for a day. Are you going with her?’ she asked Mercedes.
Mercedes gave her an incredulous look, ‘I hardly think so. Not in this,’ she said, pointing at her wheelchair. ‘I’m here to offer moral support and Sean here is here to video the event.’
‘Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just that we have people with disabilities doing the wire. We have all ages here, too. Our youngest was four years old and the oldest ninety-four. There’s no excuses,’ she grinned. ‘I’ve done it loads of times.’
Mercedes thought for a couple of moments then replied in a resigned tone, ‘No, thanks. I’ll leave it to Charlie. I don’t want to steal her thunder. She’s the one sponsored to do the challenge, not me.’
There was a queue of people at the quarry waiting to climb the wooden structure and soar over the river below. Sean extracted a video camera from his backpack.
‘Hey, that looks professional,’ joked Charlie.
‘Nicked it from my dad. He’s had it for ages and doesn’t use it. Thought it’d be useful today. Okay, give me a smile and a wave.’
Charlie looked into the camera and gave a weak smile. She glanced up at the tall structure. Her stomach flipped. Mercedes was in a downbeat mood. Charlie knew why. This was one challenge Mercedes would relish. It had been on her list and it would be feasible for Mercedes to try it. Charlie could see the longing in her face. Mercedes would love to tackle this activity and yet she had handed the opportunity over to Charlie. Mercedes would appreciate the buzz it would give her far more than Charlie would and, more importantly, it would fulfil that hunger she had to keep proving herself. Charlie was constantly amazed at how Mercedes dealt with her disability. She had her off days but that was understandable. Charlie knew that Mercedes missed her old life. She had lived a thrilling life up until the accident. Since then, she had succeeded in learning all sorts of skills and ways to have a normal life but opportunities like this were rare. Charlie decided to give her an excuse to do it too.
‘Mercedes, I really want to do it but I can’t,’ Charlie whispered. ‘I’m getting the shakes badly. I don’t think I’m up to it. I feel nauseous.’ She held onto a wooden railing, looking wide-eyed at Mercedes. ‘I might be okay if someone comes with me.’
Mercedes gave her a quizzical look.
Charlie kept up her act. ‘I can’t do this on my own. It’s one thing going on a roller coaster but this is a different matter. I think I’m going to be sick,’ she turned her head and pretended to gag.
‘It’ll be okay, Charlie,’ said Mercedes, taken in by the performance and concerned about her friend. ‘You heard what the girl at the ticket desk said, I can come down the wire. There are parallel wires so I could arrange to go down the one parallel to yours. We’ll go together,’ she continued, her face lighting up at the prospect.
‘I’d feel safer if you were there with me. Would you? Would you mind?’ asked Charlie, still holding onto the rail and deciding she ought to take up acting.
‘Of course not. Sean, stay with her while I arrange it.’
Charlie pretended to be unsure.
‘Come on Charlie, it’ll be great. We’ll do it in tandem. Nearly forgot. I brought this along for you.’ She pulled out a plastic pink kazoo. ‘We’ve had quite a few emails about you and the kazoo, so we thought we’d continue the theme. You can play something appropriate up there. Have a practice while I organise it. You can entertain Sean with your repertoire of seventies television theme tunes, and try to calm down while I’m sorting it with the staff.’
Mercedes eyes shone with eagerness and Charlie felt a rush of affection for her brave friend. She grasped Mercedes’s hand. ‘Okay, take your time. We’ll wait for you and then we’ll go together.’
The team at the quarry was very accommodating and made arrangements to get Mercedes up to the platform. Charlie and Sean moved up the huge structure to the platform above to join her and two young guys in yellow T-shirts. They were helping people into harnesses, attaching them to the zip wire and launching them off high above the flooded quarry.
From the platform, twin parallel wires crossed the flooded depths of the old quarry, sheer cliffs rose on either side. Charlie gazed at the view beyond and clung to the wooden surround. She was genuinely beginning to feel dizzy and glad Mercedes was going to be with her.
‘Okay, there?’ asked one of the lads as he fitted her with a harness, checking the straps thoroughly before attaching her to the wire.
Charlie nodded mutely.
Mercedes, now also strapped into a harness, shouted over, ‘Come on Charlie, it’s show time,’ she said in her best Jim Carrey voice. ‘Wave at the camera.’
The men ensured that both women were securely fastened one last time.
‘Here you go, Mercedes,’ said Sean as he fitted a headband containing a small camera around her hair. ‘I’ll film you from above and that camera will record the descent from your perspective. Have fun.’
The team encouraged Charlie to approach the edge of the platform. They waited to hear that the people ahead had landed. There was a crackle from the walkie-talkie and a disembodied voice announced the way was clear.
Charlie couldn’t think. It was so high. She felt slightly faint. She heard a noise. Mercedes was being launched down her wire. Charlie had no choice, so she let herself fall forward too. She plunged above treetops and hurtled down towards the water. Mercedes looked across at her and opened her arms out wide, a look of pure joy on her face. Then she moved her arms like an orchestra conductor, signalling to Charlie. Pushing the pink kazoo she had been clutching in her hand into her mouth, Charlie blasted out “Come Fly With Me”. She had little time to take in the scenery, the trees, the ducks and other wild birds on the water below. It was all a blur. The air whistled past her ears and Charlie felt free. She was flying. It was exhilarating. She felt euphoric. In no time at all, she began slowing down as she approached the landing site. She saw Mercedes being caught by the staff members on the other side of the river. Slowing further, Charlie arrived gracefully on terra firma where she was unhitched from her wire. She weaved her way to Mercedes, now back in her wheelchair and hugged her tightly.
‘Oh my! That was seriously the best thing I have done in years,’ said Mercedes. ‘Can I do it again?’
‘You might have to go on your own next time. It was incredible and I’m
so glad I did it but I couldn’t face that drop again.’
Thirty-Two
There were no houselights on in the street by the time Charlie was dropped off back at her house. The euphoria she experienced had stayed with her the entire trip home. Mercedes went down the zip wire for a second time, this time with Sean as Charlie refused to climb the wooden structure again, happy to watch and film them both as they descended with loud whoops of excitement. All three were high on adrenaline and the drive back had been filled with laughs and songs. They stopped at a pub on the way home to celebrate their success and called Sam to tell him Charlie had completed the challenge. He was thrilled.
‘I’ll pass on the news to the other presenters and let the listeners know,’ he said after cheering. ‘Sean, are you going to upload the video tonight?’
‘Might be the morning now. I’m going to be pretty bushed by the time I get in. I’ll make sure it’s up before Charlie goes on air, tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Catch you all tomorrow. Sleep well. And Charlie… a few challenges came in for you today. How do you feel about wing walking?’
‘You are kidding me?’
‘Yep. Yes, I am. There is no wing walking challenge. Yet. Speak to you tomorrow.’
Charlie let herself in to the house and waved goodbye to her friends. She suddenly felt deflated. It was just her again. Silence closed in on her. She snapped on the television for company and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
As the tap ran, she looked outside into her back garden. Her brain suddenly alert. There was a movement under the large apple tree. She froze. There. She saw it again. She focused as hard as she could. But she couldn’t see anyone. It was her imagination. She was tired and excitable. There was no one out there. She took her water and went back into the lounge to settle in front of a late night game show.