Adam lay on his bed, pleased to be feeling warm again. The shame of making a fool of himself in front of the other guests had washed away as the hot droplets from the showerhead had collided with his skin. He didn’t owe them anything and, with any luck, he wouldn’t have to set eyes on them for the rest of the weekend.
He opened his bag and pulled some fresh clothes out. He was happy to be free of the sodden jeans he’d been wearing before, and felt a pang of pity for the presenters who had agreed to wear the same clothes all weekend. They must be freezing after the tour.
He pulled a T-shirt, a pair of joggers and a hoodie on and stood by the radiator while he connected his laptop to the television. After a minute of fiddling, his computer screen was duplicated on the wide screen of the TV.
Let the weekend begin, he thought to himself.
He opened up a browser window and typed in the WiFi code he’d been given earlier. Once connected, he navigated to Netflix and chose an episode of Sherlock—the one where Moriarty appears for the first time.
Andrew Scott, to his mind, was the best actor to have played Sherlock’s arch nemesis. Colin liked Natalie Dormer’s portrayal in Elementary, but Adam reckoned that was only because he fancied her.
He threw himself onto the bed just as a brisk knock on the door sounded.
‘If that’s Damien,’ Adam said. ‘You can do one. Anyone else, come in!’
Colin poked his head around the door, a smile spreading across his face at the theme tune for his favourite show.
‘Fancy an ep?’ Adam asked, shuffling over to one side of the bed.
‘Yeah, later. We’ve been invited for dinner.’
‘But, we’ve got our weekend supplies right here.’
Adam pointed to the bag of food. Sausage rolls, Thai sweet chilli crisps and enough chocolate to rot both their teeth. Not to mention the bottles of Coke.
‘I know,’ Colin said. ‘But, they’ve got a roast dinner going on downstairs. Chicken, spuds, gravy and a spread of desserts for after.’
‘It’ll mean mingling with those dicks, though,’ said Adam.
‘Worth it for a free feast.’
Adam weighed it up in his mind. He was already sold, but he needed Colin to know that he was putting up a real fight.
‘Okay,’ he said, standing up. ‘But, if I end up next to the creepy guy, I’m leaving.’
Sitting next to the creepy guy might’ve been better than how it had ended up. Adam sat with Colin on one side, which was fine, but with Gavin’s bulk on the other. As a six foot something, twenty-stone man, dressed in wrestling garb, it meant certain areas of his body were left exposed. Like the armpits, which were right next to Adam’s face.
Worse than that, though, was that Damien was directly opposite him. Which meant intense eye contact that Adam was trying hard to avoid, but could feel boring into him.
As they waited for the food to be served, Keith stood up.
Adam had to give it to him—he had balls. He had tried hard to pull off the Bowie look. He’d squeezed himself into a sparkly silver catsuit and painted the colourful lightning bolt onto his face. However, with his straggly dark hair and considerable girth, he looked more like Rab C. Nesbitt.
He held a glass aloft. Adam thought that he had taken it upon himself to be the group’s leader. Perhaps that was one of the expectations of having the prime-time slot.
‘I thought it might be nice to go around the table and say what we are thankful for. It’s become something of a tradition.’ He glanced around at his audience. ‘I’ll start. This year, I am thankful for the continued opportunity to entertain the people of Stonebridge and to once more have the top-listened to show.’
He sat down and looked to his right.
‘My beautiful wife,’ said Albert, motioning to the lady sitting beside him.
‘Getting to spend the weekend with you lot,’ said Drive Time Dave.
‘Love,’ said Sophie.
‘Love?’ repeated some of the members around the table.
‘Have you met someone?’
‘You’ve kept that quiet,’ said Gavin, looking put out.
‘I’ve not told anyone because it’s early days,’ Sophie said. ‘I don’t know if it’s going to go anywhere but it’s feeling good.’
‘So, who is the poor chap?’ asked Keith.
‘That, I cannot divulge. Yet,’ she added, as a chorus of boos filled the room.
‘Go on,’ Gavin said.
‘Leave the poor girl alone,’ Albert said, and any more cross examination was quelled by the arrival of food. Conversation died as plates were loaded and eating commenced.
Adam and Colin stood by the bar, pints in hand. It had been a long day and Adam could feel the tiredness begin to creep behind his eyes. One more pint and he’d call it a night.
The presenters were getting a bit rowdy. They’d had a few cocktails during dinner, and now that the food was gone, the drinking had begun in earnest. They sat in groups at the table, chatting and laughing while Albert fiddled with the computer at the side of the room.
A media file appeared on the fabric screen and Albert tapped a knife against the stem of his wine glass. He cleared his throat as a hush descended in the room and attention was turned to the station’s owner.
‘I’ve prepared a short video for us to watch, before I say a few words.’
He pressed play on the video and grainy black and white footage began. It showed a small building with smashed windows and missing roof tiles. A man was smiling happily at the camera, one hand on the ramshackle building as if it was his pride and joy.
Then, colour bloomed. The footage leapt on a generation. On screen was Albert, forty years ago, with thick sideburns creeping down his cheeks, wearing a flowery shirt and bell-bottom trousers. Next, some footage of Albert sitting behind a mixing desk, talking into a microphone. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he looked like he was having a great time.
The footage continued in this vein; fond memories at Stonebridge Radio Station over the year. Laughter sounded in the room as a much younger and thinner Keith Starr walked through shot, his fingers pointing like guns at the camera.
Adam watched as present day Keith shook his head and chuckled.
The footage finished with a picture of the current stock of presenters. Albert closed the video and cleared his throat again as the presenters looked at him expectantly.
‘Right, well, first of all, I want to say thank you for coming. I know we do something for Hallowe’en every year, and this feels fitting. I’m looking forward to tomorrow evening’s murder mystery, and I’ll expect you young ones are looking forward to a bit of a boogie after I’m done…’
Adam could see the beads of sweat forming on his forehead. It felt like he was circling what he wanted to say, as if he was building up to something.
‘Unfortunately, I have some bad news. I have made the tough decision to close down the station. Revenue has been down year on year. Streaming services are taking over and there is sadly no room for local radio anymore.’
The room exploded into a storm of words. Questioning him. Cursing his decision. Cries for clemency.
Albert tried to placate them, assuring them that it was a decision forced on him by money. He was losing a lot of it, and he didn’t have a lot to spare in the first place.
As the noise threatened to overwhelm again, Gavin barked at everyone to quieten. He pointed a thick finger at Albert’s wife, who was sitting quietly at the end of the table. Her face was ashen.
‘What about that necklace?’ he said. ‘Great big diamond like that’s bound to be worth something. Sell it and keep the station going.’
Instinctively, Margaret’s fingers flew to her jewellery. Gavin was right—it was worth a lot. The thin silver chain was valuable on its own, but the real prize was the firefly pendant. The ornate thorax of the insect was a single cut purple diamond, while the silver wings were studded with smaller purple sapphires.
Margaret held the glittering insect in a balled fist.
Albert’s face reddened.
‘Now, listen here. I do not owe any of you a living. That necklace is family heirloom and it’s none of your business how much it’s worth. I’m coming up to retirement age as it is, so you would’ve been out on your ears in a year’s time anyway,’ he said. He took a moment to compose himself and when he did speak again, his voice was softer. ‘I don’t want to ruin the weekend, so please, have fun and enjoy the time you have together.’
He held his hand out and his wife followed him out of the room, taking the firefly with her. The cacophony of noise started up again as Adam and Colin finished their pints.
‘Jesus,’ Colin said as they walked up the stairs. ‘A mass firing! A bit of drama for the evening.’
‘And even weirder that they were all dressed in their costumes.’
‘I wonder if the murder mystery will still go ahead?’
‘Who cares? I plan on not leaving my room again until the boat arrives.’
They walked the length of the corridor, bade each other goodnight and entered their respective rooms. Adam’s head had barely touched the pillow before he’d fallen asleep.