Chapter 2

After the concerted effort of Friday, it was with a sense of dread that I answered my mobile, seeing Andrew as the caller.

“Carol here.”

“Carol, it’s Andrew and thank you for organising the photos. I rang the photographer, and he told me that it was a pleasure to see you through his lens. I’ve shown the pictures to management, and they’ve decided to use one in reception. With your application, I’ll email you the form again. If you fill it in with your new name and on-air experience, I’ll use that for the records.”

“So, you do still want me?”

“Carol, just hearing your voice sends shivers up my spine. Of course, I want you here and raising our ratings. Tell me, can you DJ properly, say in a hall?”

“I have done that with my other show, with modern music. I haven’t done the scratch stuff, too much respect for the vinyl.”

“Right. I’ll keep in touch. I’ll see if I can get somewhere to stay within walking distance of the studio. Do you mind living with an older couple? They had a son, and his room is vacant.”

“That’s all right. As long as the rent is within my budget and salary.”

I spent the weekend with a smile on my face. The move was still on. Over the two days, I was in constant training on how to live in my new persona. Sunday morning, Mum and I dressed well and joined Dad at the golf club for lunch

Monday morning, the doctor rang to tell me that I was to arrive at the hospital on Tuesday morning, having fasted since midnight, for my ‘little problem’ to be removed. I would be home on Thursday afternoon. In the seven days since I saw her, my world had been turned upside down.

Thursday afternoon, Mum picked me up from the hospital and took me home. I would need to go back the next week to have stitches removed and to be checked over, but for now I was a eunuch in a skirt. I had to count myself lucky in that nothing cancerous had been discovered. I had been given big injections of hormones and a prescription for ongoing tablets.

On Friday afternoon, Dad gave me an envelope, officially marking my termination from the company. It included a nice reference and a cheque with my accrued holiday and entitlement wages. When I banked it, next week, I would be quite well off. I hadn’t spent big since I left school, having saved my money since starting to help out in the company in my early teens. I was listed as a partner in the company, with twenty-five percent of the stock, and that had added nice bonuses every year. About the biggest expense since leaving school had been my little runabout, which hadn’t cost a lot. Come to think of that, I’d been told that I’d bought a girls’ car. Maybe I knew, deep inside, that it would be perfect.

Over the next week, I tidied up my business, bought a case for my clothes and did more shopping with Mum, mainly for shoes and accessories. Towards the end of the week, Andrew rang to tell me that he had organised my room and wondered if I could go to Mildenhall on the weekend, where I would be settled in. He told me that my pay would start from the Monday, and I would spend a few days in the studio to get up to speed with the equipment and meet the rest of the crew. I agreed to get there on Saturday, ready to work. Mum was teary when I told her, telling me that the last week or so with her new daughter had been good, and to keep in touch.

On Friday, I loaded the car with all the extras, my laptop, mini-music system and a box of my CDs. I ended up having to get another case, having seriously underestimated the amount of stuff I now needed to maintain this female person.

On Saturday morning, I drove north to Mildenhall. It was only around forty miles by road, but a world away when it came to size. I was out, in my car, driving carefully as Carol Novak, the new girl on the air. I was feeling good, I was feeling confident, as Mum had drilled me in every situation I was likely to meet, including how to fend boys off. That was something that I never thought I’d need until we were out for a farewell dinner and a lad tried to chat me up while I was returning to our table after visiting the toilet.

When I arrived in Mildenhall, I had directions that Andrew had given me. Coming off the A11 and onto Bury Road, I found High Street, which became Mill Street. I drove past the studio and then saw the alley to the right that I wanted. The place I wanted was set off the road, in what looked like a hodgepodge of old and modern homes. There was parking beside the house, so I locked the car and went to knock on the door.

I heard someone call ‘coming’ and then it was opened by a cheerful looking man.

“Hello. I’m Carol Novak and Andrew told me that he’d organised me to stay with you for a while.”

“Hello. I’m Jaunty and my wife is Maude. Andrew is our son-in-law. Our daughter went to work at the radio station, and they ended up getting married. There’s more to that story for another time. Now. Come on in and we’ll have a chat before we get your things in.”

He led me through to the kitchen, where Maude was sitting. Straightaway, I saw that she was crippled, so I went over to her to give her a hug.

“Hello, Maude. I’m Carol Novak. I believe that there’s space for me for a while.”

“As long as you like, Carol. The arrangement is a little different. We have renovated the lounge into our bedroom, with an ensuite. You have the run of upstairs. There’s two bedrooms, with one set up as a dressing room and lounge. You’ll have your own bathroom. As you can see, I can’t go up there any longer, so you’ll have to do your own cleaning. I’ll get Jaunty to do the sheets once a fortnight, but otherwise, we can come to an agreement with the washing machine. Now, tea or coffee?”

“Tea, please.”

“Excellent! We’ll get along fine. Jaunty makes it, so just you sit down and tell me about yourself.”

So, I sat down, and we talked. We talked through some sandwiches and into the afternoon. In the course of the conversation, I found out that Andrews’ wife was once their son, Christopher, now Christine and blissfully happy. Andrew had warned them of my own slight problem, so there were no secrets to stand between us. When I went upstairs to look at the rooms, I was extremely happy. The bedroom had been repainted to suit a girl, and there was a big vanity. The other room had a couple of hanging racks and a comfy chair, as well as a cupboard next to a power outlet which would work for both my laptop and mini-music unit. The bathroom was full size and needed a bit of a wipe over, and there was a cupboard with extra linen and cleaning supplies.

I went back outside and started pulling my things in, with Jaunty helping by carrying the laptop as far as the stairs. I took everything up and hung my clothes, filled the drawers and added my cosmetics to the vanity. I found a duster among the cleaning things and went through the three rooms with it.

When I went downstairs, I went back into the kitchen.

“Maude, Andrew told me that this was B&B. What’s around where I can eat. More importantly, what’s around where I can take you nice people out for a meal?”

“If you’re buying, there’s a nice pizza place not far away with wheelchair access. We don’t get out a lot, so that would be lovely.”

We loaded her into my car, with Jaunty in the front and her wheelchair folded in the back, and I was directed up the street to Pappa Johns’, where we unloaded Maude and her chair. Then Jaunty directed me to where I could park, just a little way back the way we had come, in Market Place.

The pizza shop was good, the prices reasonable and the small Garden Party was big enough for me. I was introduced to the owner as the new girl at the radio station, and was photographed next to him, by the counter, as a one-up for him to brag to his friends. I received my first genuine loyalty card in my name.

That night, I slept in the new bed, snug and warm, with the warmth of my reception here making me smile. For some odd reason, I had been more outgoing with strangers than I had ever been before. Perhaps, it would help me get settled here.

After a cooked breakfast, followed by washing up, Andrew and his wife, Christine, arrived. I was put in the front seat of their car, with Christine driving, and was taken on a tour of the town. The town was odd, in a way, with you seemingly heading into the country before rolling into another part of it.

We stopped in the industrial area at the Angels’ Café, being an area where we had several backers of the station. Then we went a little way further north to Lakenheath. Andrew was giving me information as we drove.

“You don’t have access to the bases. That’s a few hoops to jump through and depends on how quickly you’re accepted on the radio. Then, you can expect to get invitations to visit. They do have dances on the bases, and we’re sometimes asked to supply DJ services. There’s another base further north, Feltwell, but that’s mainly comms and admin, there’s no strip.”

During the day, I became friends with the two of them. Andrew would be my producer when I did evening shifts, while Christine was in reception. At the end of the tour, she dropped me and Andrew at the station so he could show me around. It wasn’t as big as I had hoped, but it had the means to broadcast around the clock. As I was shown everything, I realised that it was a very slick operation. There were no management there on a Sunday, so I met the desk operator on air, and he grinned, showed me a seat and put a set of headphones on me. In a break between songs, he introduced me to the listeners and asked me about myself.

I said that my main audience, up to now, had been hospital patients, and he slid a schedule under my nose for my first week, so I was able to tell them when I would be on, and the sort of music I’d be playing. As I was speaking, Andrew put an album in front of me, so I pointed out Anything Goes. Mark, the operator, cued it up and stood aside for me to announce my signature tune, and the name of my show. I smiled as I announced that I’d be with them in a week, with my show of show tunes and other greats. As the track was playing, Mark gave me a hug.

“You’re going to slay them in the aisles, Carol. That was smooth and professional, and off the cuff, too!”

He went back to his work, and Andrew walked along the street with me.

“Tomorrow, you should be at work for nine. There will be an official welcome from the boss, unveiling your picture in reception, and then you’ll be escorted around town again, this time meeting all the main sponsors. Look good and be friendly and they’ll all love you. What you’ve done today was recorded and will be broadcast every couple of hours during the week. When all the hoo-ha is over, we’ll get you to study our music collection for you to plan your first few shows. You’re on air twice a day with two-hour sessions. By that time, you’ll be part of the team.”

“Thank you for today, Andrew. It’s been interesting and I feel almost at home, already. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I went up the lane, made sure that my car was locked, and let myself in with the key I’d been given. After I had freshened up, I let myself out again and walked up the road, past the studio, and went into the Indian Restaurant. I was given a seat at a small table and ordered something only mildly spicey for my dinner. The waiter looked hard at me.

“Didn’t I hear your voice on the radio, today?”

“Yes, I was on for a few minutes. I’ll be starting my schedule from Monday week.”

“When I come back with your meal, the chef will want a selfie with you. Will that be all right?”

“Yes, it’s perfectly all right.”

The meal was spicey, but tasty, and the selfie was duly taken. I was constantly surprised by the welcome I was getting. I slept well and had the alarm on to give me time for the morning regime, then breakfast, teeth clean and a short walk to work.

The morning was busy. The boss was nice, the paperwork was completed, and I was given a packet of new business cards, an ID that had been laminated with one of the three pictures on it, the same as the one that had been unveiled in front of a reporter from the East Anglian. We had lunch and then the afternoon was me with the boss, visiting local sponsors and advertisers of the station. It was tiring but I had a lot of fun, more hugs than my favourite teddy bear, and not a few kissed cheeks. They had all heard the promo during the morning and were looking forward to the show. I figured out, quite early in the afternoon, that there was a bit of a deal to be struck to be the main sponsor of Anything Goes. I was told that I may be travelling to other sponsors in the wider broadcast area at a later date.

Monday evening, in bed, I thought about the day and how I, as Carol, had been welcomed. Then, I was visited by self-doubt. It all seemed so contrived and a bit off. On Tuesday, at breakfast, I voiced my unease. Maude smiled.

“I win, Jaunty, dear. The girl is quick. Yes, Carol, there are deeper waters out there. The thing is that the guy who told the station about you and your show is one of the RAF liaison officers who organise events at Lakenheath and Mildenhall. While the station covers a wide area, there are closed systems inside the two main bases with shows brought in from the US by air. That means that the bases, on the whole, don’t listen to the station.”

“OK.”

“Now, if they aren’t listening, they’re not hearing the advertising of local businesses. Your show may be what they want to hear. If it gets bought and replayed in the piped system, then the station and the local traders get a toehold on a large group of very well-paid men and women who are a long way from home. At the moment, they have everything flown in, from toilet paper to tiaras. Just ten percent of that business venturing outside the base is a big win. We’ve had our kids sitting here trying to figure out a way to get played on the bases. If you can open up the door, then you’ll have a job for as long as you like.”

“Oh, lovely. No pressure.”

“Look, Carol. Just do your best on air. You’ve already got one friend in Lakenheath, even if you’ve never met. Andrew had played us a recording of one of your shows, and it was a lovely hour. We would have danced if I still could. Don’t let this bother you. Go along with things and see where the dice finish rolling.”

I helped tidy up, got ready and walked the short distance along the road. What I had been told fitted with some of the things that Andrew and Christine had said on Sunday. If all they wanted was some more listeners, then that’s what I’ll try to give them. It was really no different from the national stations vying for top dog in the morning or drive home spots. It may well be good to develop strategy here, before I move on to a national. Well, a girl can dream.

That day was spent in the second booth, recording two, two-hour shows that could be kept as insurance against drastic damage. That achieved a number of things. I was able to search the actual discs, tapes and CDs held in the library and cross-listed by artist and writer. Secondly, it allowed me to use all the desk settings to get used to the system. Thirdly, for the first time, I was exposed to the vast library of music that was available through the internet, in a format that allowed me to fit it seamlessly into the show. This included rare, live performances that had all the atmosphere of the times. I was so engrossed, I missed getting lunch and Andrew had to tell me to stop when he came in to prepare for the evening shows.

Before I left, I picked up a copy of my next week schedule to look at more carefully. I saw that I was on air twice a day, weekdays and Saturday, with a recorded show going out on Sunday. I was taking a session between two and four, with the second between eight and ten. I decided to mix it up a bit. If we wanted the bases to listen, then the show tunes were one thing, but big band swing was something else and notably part of American history as well. After a meal out, I sat on my bed with the laptop, locked into the house network, and made lists of the best of the big bands, from Count Basie to Woody Herman.

On Wednesday, I repeated the previous day, but with big band tunes. I already had a signature tune, ‘Take The A Train’, and had worked out a welcoming segment. There was a lot of material to choose from. One of the things that was so much different for me was having to get there at nine to plan the two shows, so that, when I was live, I had the order at my fingertips. The other thing was including adverts from the computer inventory. I would get a list before each show.

On Thursday, I tried to get ahead of the game by planning out my shows next week, so that I knew what tracks I would need to get the discs for. As I was doing that, I realised that there were a lot of the required songs from the computer, but I noted the ones where discs or CDs were available, in case of internet failure. On Friday, Mark and I worked as a double act, with the two of us on air from noon until four. He had his list, and I had one of my own.

It was a momentous day for me, on air over much of East Anglia for the first time. We swapped twenty-minute segments, and I had real-time experience with inserting the adverts and reading out weather and traffic reports from our screen. Neither of us completed our planned list, as we were getting call-ins that Christine started to route to us from about three. It was strange to be talking to callers while on-air, learning how to cut things short if they went on too long.

When we handed over, Mark gave me a hug and a smile.

“That was an interesting show. If all the callers keep coming in, you may be asked to do a morning chat show. Do you like Indian food?”

“If you’re talking about the one over the road, I’ve eaten there, and it was good.”

“Dinner with me, my treat, and then I’ll go home to the wife.”

On our way out, Christine was getting ready to leave. She passed me a note.

“Looks like you’ve already caused a storm, Carol. Group Captain Allardyce is going to be coming by at ten. He wants to give you a guided tour of the bases. Wear jeans, as he’s sending a jeep.”

We walked across the road and found seats at a table. We had both ordered before Mark spoke.

“You certainly struck a chord with the Group Captain. He was the one who advised us of your talent. I’m glad he did, if today is an indication. The boss is going to be happy.”

“Mark, I’m aware of the situation, and understand the consequences. I found all the adoration on Monday to be too much over the top and asked a few questions. I’m here to put on my shows, and that’s all, unless I get dragged into the mix. I’ll act as if this is all new to me, and just, as I’ve been told, go with the flow.”

He grinned and raised his water glass to me. I picked mine up and we clinked.

“To you, Carol. May your innocence keep you safe.”

We had a nice meal and Mark insisted on paying. I told him that I’d reciprocate when I got paid. When I got home, Maude called me into the kitchen.

“Welcome home, angel of the airwaves. I had the radio on all afternoon, and it was a wonderful show. I had to ring a few of my old friends to tell them not to waffle when they’re on air.”

“They were all right, Maude. It was different for me, as my previous show was piped to patients in hospital, and I’ve never had to deal with call-ins before. Mark was great in teaching me some tricks to handle them, short of just switching them off. I’m going to get picked up, tomorrow, by jeep for a tour of the bases. I’ve been invited by the Group Captain who heard me in hospital.”

“That’s going to make a few happy.”

“So, I’ve been told.”

“Wear jeans or slacks. Those jeeps are difficult to get in or out of in a skirt.”

“Christine already gave me that advice.”

On Saturday morning, I took a lot of care getting ready, had breakfast and double checked before going downstairs. It was a cooler day, and I was wearing a denim set of jeans and jacket for the first time. I waited at the station for a couple of minutes before a jeep came down the road. When it pulled up beside me, a very handsome, older man in uniform hopped out with practiced ease and put his hand out to shake.

“Carol, it’s such a pleasure to meet you in person. That show of yours was a great pick-me-up while I was in hospital. I’ve heard a lot of that style of music over the years, what with working with our USAF friends. Hop in and we’ll show you the sights.”

We were both in the back and he told the driver to go ‘to the Lake’. As the driver turned around in Aldrich Place, I told him that this would be where I was to be dropped off, later. On the way, the Group Captain told me about his role at the base. He was one of the links between the two countries. The base was nominally an RAF site, with the bulk of the operations carried out by USAF units. He would organise shows and be the one to book local acts, while his counterpart would ship in American artists, who never left the base.

On the way, he gave me a quick history lesson of the two bases being important in the Second World War as bomber bases, with both British squadrons and American ones, one flying Halifax, Wellington and Lancasters, the other mainly B17’s and Liberators. In the Cold War, the main planes had been B29’s.

“There were others here that came and went. We had Phantoms for a while, and a flight of F100 Super Sabres, one of which is our Gate Guardian.”

Marianne Gregory © 2026

Chapter 3

When we arrived at the main gate, I had to show my station lanyard with my picture on. I was signed in and given another lanyard with ‘visitor’ on it in big red letters. From there, we did the tour. The first stop, after passing a big hotel, was the Exchange.

“This is what they used to call the PX. It’s a place where most shops stock US products, as many of the new accommodation blocks are powered on the US voltage from a central generator and a substation that converts the UK power. There’s clothing from the US, and there’s even a shop that sells UK souvenirs, so the personnel don’t need to go outside the gate to pretend that they’re in England.”

It was a great place to see, and I wondered if I’d ever get the chance to shop here. After that, we went past the library to the Page Community Centre.

“This is basically a roller-skating rink. We do use it for dances. It was in here where I got hurt, walking backwards off a temporary stage. It wasn’t high, but I stupidly put my arm out to break my fall, only breaking my arm and wrist in the process. The base hospitals were full of flu cases at the time, so they sent me down to Colchester to get me out of their hair.”

From there, we passed some housing complexes, the High School and two baseball fields before passing a US Post Office, and an area with normal living in mind. I saw a building that looked like some cars were being worked on, one that was an outdoor recreation shop and a proper hardware store. We turned onto a road that led us back towards the main gate and I looked to the left to see a line of F15 Strike Eagles out on the tarmac.

“That’s one of our current flights. They’re called the ‘Madhatters’ and the planes are F15’s. These are the last of those that we’ll get. They belong to the Four-Ninety-Second. There’s another flight on the other side of the base, which are the Four-Ninety-Fourth.”

“That would be the equivalent of two RAF Squadrons.”

“Right. The whole lot come under the Forty-Eighth Fighter Wing. There’s a lot of building work planned to house another squadron in a couple of years, and I’ve heard that nearly another fifteen hundred personnel will be joining us.”

I grinned.

“Will they be flying F35’s?”

He laughed.

“I cannot confirm or deny that, Carol. I’ve only heard the rumours myself. You seem to be well informed about planes.”

“You have to learn something if you’ve watched ‘Top Gun’ a few times.”

Before leaving Lakenheath, we went to one of the strangest cafes that I’d seen. It was called Shawings, and there was nothing but chicken wings, tacos and fries on offer, along with beer and cider. He suggested that I try the Clint Eastwood Airman special, which was, I must say, very different. It was only one of a couple of dozen flavours that coated ordinary chicken.

While we were sitting there, I asked the questions on my mind.

“So, when someone arrives here on deployment, they live in an enclave which mirrors their stateside life, including the food, the shops, the entertainment and just about everything else. Are the top brass scared that the good old boys may go out and ravage the local ladies?”

“That’s pretty much it. There was an old wartime saying about Americans, that they were overpaid, oversexed, and over here. That has tainted the thinking. Look, on the two bases, we have almost the same population as the local town. A lot of them, including the women, have had basic military training. If they decided to cut loose, there’s not enough police within fifty miles to contain them. I, and the few staff I have, have the job to give them a piece of the UK, in small bites, with shows and events.”

“You haven’t shown me the building that supplies the listener content.”

“No. That’s at Feltwell, with the training school and the satellite monitoring station. There’s no way that you would be allowed in there. There’s no DJ, as such, just a couple of junior officers who take what comes in and sets it up for playing.”

“How many listeners are there?”

“Who knows. There’s over five thousand speakers throughout the two bases, in the accommodation and recreation areas. Is that important?”

“I was wondering if we could supply you with programs. I’ll be on air next week, two hours every afternoon and another two hours in the evening. That includes local news, weather and adverts. If we could feed into your setup, it may provide a touch of the exotic Britain. If there’s complaints, we can just stop. If there aren’t, then we can expand the coverage. Does the piped system have a range of settings that can be chosen?”

“It does. Are you suggesting that we make Zack FM one of the channels?”

“Why not? It may get some of the personnel out and about. When I’ve been here longer, I’ll know more about our content. I’ve only been concentrating on my own shows so far.”

“That may be interesting to propose. The station may have to do a few shows that highlight the local area. You, as a new girl on air, could be sent around the tourist places to talk about them. It may get small groups out to visits. I could organise a coach.”

“How much sway do you have with things like that?”

“Not a lot, really, but my counterpart with the Forty-Eighth is a Colonel, on the brink of being promoted to a one-star General. He has Captains and Majors working for him in these bases, as well as Fairford. They’re the main flying centres. There’s eight or nine other bases where the US have personnel, and he’s in overall charge of their entertainment, and also their morale. A lot have loved ones at home and the deployments are stressful. He has to balance their needs with the needs of the locals around the bases.”

“Are you friendly with the Colonel?”

“So-so. We meet on a regular basis and now speak together on first name basis.”

“You haven’t told me yours, Group Captain Allardyce.”

He grinned and leaned closer, so that the driver, two tables away, couldn’t hear.

“I’m Brendon, and he’s Chuck.”

Then he stood.

“Smithers, warm up the jeep. We’ll be with you shortly.”

The driver nodded and left. I stood as well.

“Thank you for lunch, Brendon. Where to, now?”

“Now, my dear, we have another base for you to look at.”

On the way down to the other base, he told me about the layout.

“Mildenhall is differently set up. It’s mainly heavier aircraft, and the main base for the KC-135 Strato-tankers, the One Hundredth Air Refuelling Wing, known as the ‘Bloody Hundredth’. There’s RC-135 ‘Rivet Joint’ reconnaissance planes. There are a few of the Commando transports as well. They’re variations of the old Hercules. There are parts of the base that even I can’t access. That’s the home of the Three-Fifty-Second spec-ops and their Ospreys.”

I had passed the main entrance on my tour with Christine and Andrew. This time, the driver pulled up at the main entrance. We got out and the process started again. I now had my ID looked at again and issued with another visitor lanyard. The road looped around the end of the runway, and we arrived at the Hardstand Fitness building, passing a number of big planes on individual stands.

Inside, it was like the sports centre in Lakenheath, but set up as a pair of basketball courts and a gym.

“We have done shows in here, but it isn’t used as much as the Page Centre. There’s soccer pitches between here and the fence, as well as a baseball pitch. The West Row gate is not far away, and we’ve brought locals in by coach for some shows, back a few years. It may be something we can promote in future.”

From there, we passed other planes, the maintenance section, and looped around the other end of the long runway. At one point, I glimpsed the Ospreys off to the right and then we were in the main accommodation area, with the playground, US post Office, Exchange, the Commissary grocery store, a dormitory building, laundromat, the Galaxy Club Restaurant, and then the Bob Hope Community Centre.

“We have held dances here. This is where your music would go well. It’s mainly a club where families meet. There’s a Starbucks and a proper dance floor with a stage. I was thinking of getting you in with a DJ setup to do a night of Anything Goes to a live audience.”

“That would be great! I’ve also been working on a show with the Big Band era. I’ll be on air for two, two-hour shows, Monday to Saturday, with Sunday off. I’ve started to think about more different themes, seeing that I’ve got twelve spots a week. Mark, at the station, suggested that I do a call-in chat show.”

“What other types of show would you do?”

“I used to do a classic pop show in Colchester, and what you’ve told me, today, has got me wondering if there’s any chance of getting new, American, discs flown in, so I could do a show of stuff that’s totally new and unreleased here. That could appeal to the younger listeners across the three counties. It would have to be clean, no swearing or sexual inuendo. The local authorities wouldn’t like it.”

“If we’re piping you in the bases, that would be a great show. One that would resonate with the personnel, especially if they get a chance to interact with the DJ in real time. The current shows are all ‘you get what you hear’ without any chance to comment. Three channels are non-stop sports, mainly their football, baseball and basketball.”

From there, we left the base at the nearby gate, which fed us back onto The Street and down to the township. The driver turned into the entrance to Aldrich Place and stopped. Brendon and I got out and we shook hands.

“Look, Carol. This has been a very good day. You’ve given me a few ideas to put to Chuck. We may have to take you the see him, another day, should things get interesting. I’ll be listening out for you on Monday. Best of luck with your first week.”

“Thank you. I start at two. It’s been a very interesting day for me as well. Thank you for the tour and lunch.”

He got back in the jeep and the driver backed out onto the road and they left. I stood for a while and then went to the house. As I closed the front door, Andrews’ voice called me to come into the kitchen. There was a cup of tea waiting as I sat down. The three of them looked at me, intently. I just smiled and took a sip of tea. It was Andrew who broke first.

“So, how did the tour go?”

“It was good, it was interesting, I saw lots of planes from afar, and I had the most interesting lunch. Some sort of chicken wings and fries, with an horrendous coating that’s impossible to describe. It was called a Clint Eastwood.”

“What about getting them to listen to us?”

“That’s more complicated than it first appeared. They have over five thousand speakers on the bases, and they have their own piped radio, with shows brought in directly from the states. We did talk about getting Zack added to the selection as a stand-alone choice, but that has to go upstairs to his counterpart, Chuck, the Colonel in overall charge of US morale in UK bases. I was shown three sites where live and DJ shows have been staged. One was the Page Community Centre in Lakenheath, and there are two in Mildenhall. One is a sports centre, set up as side-by side basketball courts, while the other is the Bob Hope Community Centre, with a proper dance floor and stage. The Group Captain actually suggested that I could do a DJ set there with dance music.”

“That’s a wonderful result for the first contact. Did you find out why their people don’t get out much?”

“The whole set-up is a home away from home. They have everything they need brought in directly from the states. They don’t even have to go out of the base to get things to send back home. There’s a shop in the Exchange that sells British Knick-knacks. The reason for all that is that the top brass are afraid of the fall-out if a load of their charges go on a rampage in the local towns. I think that their security people like it that way, as well. We did talk about them organising a coach trip to tourist places, in conjunction with Zack broadcasting a tourist information show, once we’re getting piped.”

“When you come in on Monday morning, I expect that the boss will want you to tell him about your tour. Nobody has been in touch with us like this, so he’ll need to be able to plan a few things. I’ll see you on Monday evening. Norman will be your producer in the afternoons. There’s the three of you between six and midnight, and it’s automated between midnight and eight.”

He got up and left, with a smile on his face. Maude laughed.

“Now, that made him happy that he brought you here, and you haven’t even started your regular shows yet.”

“I’ve been thinking about those regular shows, Maude. I wonder if I would be allowed to mix them up with other things. Like my own blend of classic rock. I asked if it was possible to get shipments of new release discs from the states, with an idea of doing a show with them. It may resonate with our younger listeners.”

Jaunty had listened to everything, without comment. Then asked the one question that I could answer.

“How are you going to get the station piped? They could pick up the signal, but that’s subject to static or local interference.”

“The easiest would be to put a microwave dish on our transmission tower, aligned with one on one of their antennas. It’s simple to code the output and decode at the other end. The result would be a fraction of a second behind the normal broadcast.”

“You sound like you know about such things.”

“I am a licensed electrician and have been repairing radios and TVs for five years.”

He laughed.

“That’s good, our set’s been playing up.”

I went out to the car and got my toolbox, then spent two hours looking at their TV, getting it to work perfectly. It was an older one and had developed a couple of dry joints. When I told them that, Maude laughed and told me that there were more than one dry joint in the house. We went back to the pizza place, and they paid for my pizza, a fitting end to my first week here.

I was free on Sunday, so drove home for a visit and to report on my first week away from home. My parents were agog with my description of the two air bases and how things had a much deeper thread than I’d first thought. It was a nice day, but I drove back to Mildenhall with the thought that I’d left Colchester behind. I was leading a very new life in a new place.

Monday morning, I was doing research in the music library and looking at the other shows that were being broadcast. It appeared that, unlike the hospital, the station normally broadcasted a wide range of music, with adverts, announcements and weather news for the whole twenty-four hours. That made it easier for me, as I could just follow that format, if I had nothing special. I was bringing more than just a DJ voice to the station.

The boss came in around eleven, and I was in his office, relating my Saturday in detail. At the end, he sat back with a thoughtful look.

“Carol, you’ve done better than I’d hoped. I like the idea of us getting into their piped system as an option. It may be a little while to get some of their ears, but it’s a start in the right direction.”

“I was told that it would take the Colonel to give his blessing. I’ve thought about how we could get a clean signal to them at the least cost. Landline would be expensive, so I wondered if we could organise microwave on our transmitter aligned with one at Feltwell.”

“That could work. Our tower is just a Band 11 Lindblad array on top of the spire at St, Mary’s, not far away. I could ask them if they would allow us to add a microwave dish, as long as it was away from the edge, so out of sight from the ground. It would just need a junction at the tower to feed an encoder in a weatherproof container.”

“I also sounded out the possibility of getting shipments of new material flown in from the states. We could put a show out that nobody else can.”

He looked very hard at me and then laughed.

“Oh, dear. You’ll be the death of me. If we can put out a show like that, with material that nobody else has heard, it will make the industry sit up, as long as it works out. Go and get some lunch, Carol, and I’ll be listening to your show this afternoon. If you can get call-ins like you did with Mark, then it will make me, and the advertisers, happy.”

Christine was about to take her lunch break, so the two of us walked up the road to the Sapphires café, where we sat and both had a vegetarian and pesto toasted sandwich with salad, coffee, and one of their many flavours of brownies for dessert. During our time there, we talked about growing up in one gender, and ending up in another. For her, it had been purely her own choice, and she was sad for me with the medical intervention forcing my own change.

Back in the studio, I got together all the things I needed for the show, sat with Norman while Mark did his thing, and then took his place as his last track was playing. I introduced myself and played the first track or two, then did an ad break, followed by weather and road conditions, and was truly settled in when the first caller came through. There was a code for them. If the light was steady, I was to talk to them off-air, if the light was flashing, Norman would put the caller on-air after I had told the audience that someone wanted to speak. He would quiz them on the content to gauge their reason, as well as their suitability to be understood.

My first on-air caller in my first show wanted to know where I’d been, as he hadn’t heard of me but was so good.

“Thank you for that, Tony. This is my first time on broadcast radio. I’ve spent seven years as a volunteer with Colchester Hospital Radio.”

“You really sound wonderful, Carol, and look good as well. I’m streaming Zack on my computer. Can you give me a wave?”

I waved at the camera and Norman ended the call so I could carry on. That set the tone for the show. I played some tunes, made the announcements, and talked to callers, both on and off-air. At the end of the two hours, I was wrung out as I made way for the next DJ, Anita, who gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek before she settled into the seat, gave the headphones a wipe and got ready for her own show. I walked out, into a hug from Norman.

I went back to the house and had a shower. Then I dressed in more of an evening fashion with proper make-up. Jaunty had told me that there was a café nearby where I could get a good fish and chips, so I ventured along St. Andrews’ Street, finding quite a good range of shops, including a big Sainsburys’ and what looked like an interesting place to get cheap clothes. The chippie was more than that, but the cod, chips, salad and peas was more than I could finish. The other offerings looked good as well.

Back in the studio, I collected up my list and things for the evening show. This was to be a genuine ‘Anything Goes’ and a distinct variation on the usual programming. It had been advertised as my signature show, so the listeners should know what to expect. At eight, I was back on air, following the intro track. I had been doing this show for so long, I could talk about the times when the songs were popular, the shows they came from, and the stars that had been on stage.

About ten past nine, we had a caller from one of the bases, who was very happy to be hearing songs from his parents collection, ‘back home’. At a quarter to ten, there was a caller, called Chuck, who I spoke to off-air.

“Good evening, Chuck. This is Carol.”

“I’ve just called you to congratulate you, young lady. This is a very professional, and well researched show. Brendon had spoken to me about you, and I’ll be talking to my superiors about things that you had discussed. It may take a few weeks, but I’ll let you know when we meet.”

“Thank you, Chuck. I’ll need to ring off now, the track has ten seconds left.”

“Keep up the good work.”

I switched back to Andrew and finished the shift. Anita was ready with her ten to midnight session, dressed to kill. I collected up my things as she gave her intro in a very sultry voice. When I left the studio, Andrew was smiling as he gave me a bit of notepaper.

“I’ve put the recording of Chucks’ call on a USB for the boss to listen to. Just those few seconds have the basis for big things. Have a good night and I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

I put my stuff away and walked home for a good sleep. It had been a big day, a full four hours on air, on my own, and dealing with all the extra things that hadn’t been needed before. By half past ten, I had undressed, cleansed and was in bed, sleeping deeply. My last thoughts was wondering what others thought of my debut day.

I was woken by my mobile chirping. It took a few seconds before I could answer. It was Mum.

“Good morning, daughter. I’m just ringing to tell you that your father has jerry-rigged a wire to the TV aerial, plugged into the radio. We were able to listen to your show last night. Our congratulations.”

“Thanks Mum. I never realised how wearing it was, sitting for two hours. That was my second show of the day. The station was happy that we had a call from someone on one of the bases.”

As she spoke again, my eyes fell on the notepaper that Andrew had given me. I gave a snort.

“What’s that, dear. Did you sneeze?”

“No Mum. I just saw a note that I was given as I left last night. I’d just put it on the bedside drawers without looking at it. I thought that it may be a note to see the boss. Instead, it’s a list of boys names with their telephone numbers. I’m obviously a hit with a few. Look, I’ve got to get ready for today. I’ve got four hours on air to prepare for.”

“OK, love. We’ll be listening. Show tunes again?”

“Not tonight, I’m doing Big Band forties tonight. If I did the same show six nights a week, it would get old very quickly.”

“I’ll look forward to that. Have a good day, love.”

“You too, Mum. Love you.”

Marianne Gregory © 2026

Chapter 4

When I made it down to breakfast, the mood was positive. I had passed the first hurdle or six and was still on track. When I arrived at the station, I organised my afternoon and evening shows, with two piles of notes. I had another meeting with the boss, a short one, and had a chat with Anita, who had come in to sort out her afternoon spot.

Christine and I went to the café again. She smiled a lot, and we tried one of the cream cakes, cut down the middle to conform with our diets. The afternoon show was much the same as Monday, but with a few more callers. I asked if callers from a long way could let us know if the signal was good and I got one caller from Lincolnshire.

The station format was a regular round robin of announcers. From eight to twelve there was a group of three who did the morning show, with a lot of talk about the news of the day with a bit of comedy. Twelve to two was Mark, two to four was me, followed by Anita. The three of us took the evenings in the same order. I had listened to bits of the morning show while getting dressed in the morning but did not have it on in the second booth while I worked, although the output was being played in reception. Sunday was just two announcers, both doing six-hour shifts with much of the format automated, so they just spoke every so often, with the news and weather.

My main relationships were building between me and Christine, with listening to Mark as he ended his session, then Anita as she started hers. Having both producers was an added bonus. The Tuesday evening show with music from the Big Band Era was an explosion of callers, most of them handled by Andrew, with him keeping my on-air ones to the most positive ones. The reason that it had that effect was that there were a lot of listeners who grew up with parents who had collections of the material, which had been almost the music of the war and the ten years after, with the area being integral to both the war and the cold war.

I needed to change gears on Wednesday, with something themed, but not too old. I could now put together an afternoon show quickly, so most of my morning was researching the music of the sixties to the eighties. I concentrated on the earlier period, as I had an idea about the later ones. I had lunch with Christine and spoke to Anita about my idea when she came in to work on her two shows. She talked to Mark after I had taken over, and then to Andrew when he came in to take over from Norman at the end of my session.

Thursday and Friday, the three of us put in time researching a range of modern dancing and sing-along music. I did the show tunes Thursday night and the big bands Friday. Saturday evening, the three of us did a six-hour show of party music, with a selection of hits across forty years. Andrew was our producer and had been told what we had planned. The three of us kept our announcements to a minimum, doing the station IDs in tune with the party theme and announcing groups of adverts as time to calm down and get a drink.

We didn’t do any on-air call-ins unless it was someone wanting to rave about the music and how it had their party jumping. Andrew handled all the others, many from cafés and fast-food outlets who had us playing in their premises. I was in bed and asleep before Anita signed off.

We were having a late breakfast when Andrew and Christine showed up for a cup of tea and a talk. He had a sheaf of papers and some emails that he wanted to discuss. He waited until we were all sitting with just cups in front of us.

“Carol. If this was just your first week on-air, then you’ve hit the ground running. The two ‘Anything Goes’ shows had a lot of positive feed-back, as did the ‘A-Train’ ones, although those were a lot more from the wider broadcast area, while the first was more from the bases. Your Wednesday show may set a trend, if you can keep it up. Last night, though, had the phones almost at melt-down. Places that play our station were happy with the party mix. I have an email from the boss, telling me that we have to make it a regular Saturday night show, as well as planning a twelve-hour version over New Years Eve and the rest of that night. I also have an email from Group Captain Allardyce, saying that he is planning a dance where he would like the three of you to DJ. He’ll get in touch with us later on that. I answered that you would only be available on a Sunday, and that there would be a fee.”

“Wow! That’s encouraging. A base dance would be about four hours, and we would need to know the theme to collect up the right set of discs. Will we get overtime pay?”

“You don’t, considering that you’re on a salary. There may be the odd bonus. One is today, with the four of us, plus partners, for lunch at the Bull, with the boss, in Barton Mills, where he lives. Chris and I will pick you up at twelve, Carol. It will be a working lunch, so be prepared to be asked a lot of questions.”

When they had left, we sat quietly for some time, taking it in. Then Maude spoke.

“I’m not surprised that the boss wants a meeting. I’ve listened to the station for a long time, and it’s been just background music. This week, your shows have been interesting and informative. The sixties and seventies show that you had on Wednesday showed just how timeless a lot of that music is. I was in bed and listening to last night with my leg muscles twitching. If I was young and fit, I would be dancing.”

“Thank you, Maude. I’m just doing what I feel is right. I didn’t come here to be just a voice on air, I was brought in to make a change with our relationship with the bases, even if I hadn’t been told that. The only way to do that is to make the station bright enough to force them to listen. That changes our impression with the rest of the listening area as well, a somewhat unexpected by-product. I’m sure that the boss has realised that this is happening, his edict for New Year is a sign of that.”

“That would be a big undertaking.”

“Not really. We could pre-record the last five hours, one to six, with us live from six to one. I expect that the studio cameras would be turned off around that time.”

I went for a walk to think, getting some smiles from people I passed, and got back in time to get into ‘lunch with the boss’ wear. I was waiting on the main road when Christine stopped for me to get in the back. We went to Barton Mills and parked in front of a quite imposing pub.

The meal was good, and most of us had steak, seeing that the boss was paying. During breaks between courses, the boss congratulated us on the Saturday evening show, which Andrew had told him about, but that it was more than he had expected. He had been fielding calls from advertisers in hospitality supplies to get on board. The surprise for the others was when he started talking about a dance show on one of the bases, with us doing the DJ work.

The discussion moved to the bar, where a lot of ideas were floated and worked over. What was the best thing, for us, was that the boss was happy to allow us more leeway with programming. He did say that we were moving the station in new directions, and that we could keep moving on until we had created the new Zack. He could see some of what it would be but was willing to be further surprised. He did ask that we get things settled by the end of the year, so we could let the listeners know what they would be hearing in 2019. I thought that he was being very brave with his business.

I managed to get to one side with Andrew and asked him how the suggestion that I was good enough to be approached had come about.

“That was out of the blue. The Group Captain emailed the station to tell us about this girl with a great voice, who was playing show music in the hospital. He suggested that it could be a show that would attract listeners from the bases. Chris passed it on to the boss, who told me to follow it up. Before that, we had very little to do with the bases, other than sending a DJ to work with them for the odd dance. They have their own set-up, working on one-ten volt. That stopped a few years ago.”

When I was dropped off, I went up to my room and looked in my things for my lists. I had twenty each of my two music shows that I had been rotating in the hospital, with most of the patients having changed over that time. That gave me ten each of the shows here, with only checking for track availability. From what had been discussed, I was now expecting to be working here for the long term.

Over the next few weeks, we continued what we had started. Mark sounded brighter and Anita became sexier. The Saturday night party had more advertisers, with us given scripts to read from, usually starting with, ‘get the party swinging with…’ which sounded like we were giving advice. We started to get calls from well outside the usual broadcast footprint, which made everyone very happy.

In late November, I was spoken to by Andrew, who showed me a request from the Group Captain. He wanted me to DJ a dance at the Bob Hope Centre, in the first week of December, on the Thursday evening. That gave me time to pre-record a show. It was to be a ‘vintage recreation’ dance from the forties, so it would be a mix of my two shows. He would pick me up on the Saturday morning so that I could check out the equipment that I would be using, as well as the discs that they had on hand. There was a phone number, which I called. When I was put through to Brendon, I asked him how I would be getting into the base on the night of the dance.

“You’ll get a ‘Contractor’ pass when I take you to check. That will allow you access to the recreation side of the base.”

“I’ll need someone with me, on the night, to help out with things. Is it possible to have an assistant?”

“We can do that. Who do you think it would be?”

“Christine, the wife of my producer, also is the receptionist and administrator. If she can get to be hands on, it would help facilitate any future events, when the Colonel gets back to us.”

“That sounds like an idea. I’ll check. Have her with you when we pick you up at ten.”

After some pleasantries, I hung up. Andrew, who had been listening through headphones, was smiling.

“Good idea, Carol. I’ll let Chris and the boss know about this.”

On Saturday morning, the two of us were waiting outside the station when the jeep turned up. It was just Smithers, and the two of us got in the back. He took us to the main gate, where Brendon was waiting with the security Major. We were both photographed and filled in forms, signing them to not divulge what we saw while on the bases. With new lanyards, which were now ours to keep, Brendon joined us for the drive to the community centre. Christine was looking around as we went along an internal road running parallel to The Street, around behind the main control building and into the commercial area. At the centre, we were given a full tour by the manager, with her noting the amenities. In the dance area, we were shown the equipment that we could use, which was a proper DJ desk with three turntables, as well as a CD player. With that, you could entertain for ages. The theme wouldn’t need any flashing lights or lasers, as they weren’t around in those days.

He gave me a sheaf of paperwork with the material on hand that we could use. I asked Brendon if we were to be escorted on the night and he told me that with our new passes, we could come in our own vehicles, which would be checked at the gate. I told the manager that we would be arriving at the gate at six, and with him as soon as we could after that, to get ready.

When we had seen everything and had all our questions answered, we were back in the jeep and taken to the Hardstand Sports area. Here, Brendon explained that the Colonel was working on the top brass to have a Christmas Dance for the base, on the Saturday night before the actual festive day, with the idea of the three of us recreating our Saturday show in real time. The building had both one-ten and two-forty, so we could bring in our own equipment. He said that it would be confirmed at the vintage dance. We left the base by the West Row Gate and were dropped off back at the station.

We went in and the first port of call was the loo and then a cup of tea. That was followed by Chris calling the boss and telling him what we’d been up to. He told her to get Andrew in and that he’d be with us in half an hour. While we waited, I went off and put together my things for a Saturday afternoon show, then joined the others for a short meeting.

As far as everyone was concerned, this was a great move forward. I would pre-record my voice parts for a show and Andrew would run the desk and answer call-ins. All the music would be off the computer. I had two lists of my old shows that I could use. He was fully able to make it sound as if I was there in the studio on the Thursday evening. The Saturday one would mean that the three of us would have to pre-record a pre-Christmas party show. It was a bit of work, but we had a good three weeks to get it ready.

I had one of the emergency shows that we could broadcast this afternoon, so Christine and I were sent off to get something vintage to wear at the dance. We ended up at Pocket Watches and Petticoats, in Bury St Edmunds, for the dresses and shoes, with a stop at another store for vintage jewels. With the right hairstyle and make-up, we would be the bees’ knees.

I went in on Sunday, with Andrew, and recorded a full Thursday evening ‘Anything Goes’, with adverts. He had the play list and just needed to be on hand to answer calls.

On the Thursday, Christine and I left the station after my show. She went home to change, and I went off to get ready. She picked me up at half-past four and we went to her salon where we were both booked in to get the right hair to match the outfits. We arrived at the main gate at six, and the car was checked over with mirrors under it and everything opened up. The only things we had extra was a box of discs that I would add to what was available. With a ‘Contractor’ sticker on the window, we were waved through.

It was odd to be unescorted and on the base. She drove the way we had gone last time, and we were at the dancehall at half past. We had an hour to get things ready. The DJ kit was set up, and I played something to check the sound, and tried the microphone, getting the hand of the various switches. When I was happy, we went to the Starbucks shop, where we tried the coffee and a cake, both too excited to be hungry.

At seven-thirty, the dance floor was filled with couples in vintage clothes, dancing to a Glenn Miller number, and I was up there, in a big-skirted dress. Christine was beside me, in her own outfit, feeding me discs from a list, as well as making sure I kept hydrated. I had shown her how to start a track that I had cued up, so that I when I needed to go to the toilet, she could keep the music going for three tracks. Between us, we kept up the tempo for three and a half hours, ending at eleven. It had been fun, the dancers had been energetic and happy, the kids had jumped up and down on the sidelines and I thought that it had been a success.

As we were collecting up our own discs and giving the desk a wipe over, a couple approached us. She was gushing in how wonderful the evening had been. When he congratulated us on a job well done, I knew who he was.

“Thank you, Colonel. It was a lot of fun for us, as well.”

“I’m in civvies, so call me Chuck. Have you thought about the Christmas event?”

“We have. We can pre-record our broadcast show and do it. Is it still at the Hardstand?”

“It will be. That’s the Saturday evening. On Sunday evening, I was wondering if you could repeat it at the Page Centre in Lakenheath. They have the same equipment that you’ve used tonight, which would be relocated to the Hardstand for the Saturday, with a big lighting set up that suits a party. There’ll be tables and chairs set up with room to dance.”

I looked at Christine, who was smiling.

“Chuck, I think that we could do both shows. This lady is Christine. She is our receptionist and administrator. She has the ear of our boss, and is married to Andrew, one of our producers. I think that she has the authority to agree to your plans.”

He shook her hand.

“Welcome to the base, Christine. I’m Colonel Sherman, and I have overall responsibility to the wellbeing and morale of many thousand servicemen and women on our UK deployments. We also have our bomber wing located inland, at Brize Norton and Fairford, with B-52s, whenever there’s a need to bring them over from the states. I do have to travel a lot, which is why I’m hard to catch up with. Group Captain Allardyce will be your main contact. He will be in touch about the other dances and future events, next year, and arrange Contractor passes for the other announcers. They will cover both here and Lakenheath only. By the way, you both look like pictures of aunts of mine, back home. Thank you for getting into the spirit of tonight. It is much appreciated, and I think that most here would have thought that you were two of us, flown in for the occasion.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you and it was a pleasure to be here, helping Carol and making people happy. I’m looking forward to the Christmas shows.”

“With your passes, Carol can take you into Lakenheath and show you the set-up there. Use the car that you came in, today, as that has been entered onto the security system for both bases. Don’t overdo the visits, but I do suggest that the Exchange may be a nice place to inspect while you’re there.”

He left us to tidy up. Christine was trembling. I stood next to her and hugged until she settled down.

“Carol, this is such a big thing. Not just for me, but also for the station. We have a toehold and it’s going to be an exciting time ahead of us.”

“I know, Chris. When we hear from Brendon, we’ll need to get the others authorised, so that they can see what we’re in for as soon as possible. Your car will take the four of us, so you’ll have to be our driver and helper. You did really well, tonight, keeping the music going while I was off. With three of us, that won’t be needed, but we will need to be kept fed and watered. I’m looking forward to looking around the Exchange in my own time.”

We put our things back in the car, was hugged by the manager and thanked for a great evening, with the suggestion that it wouldn’t be long before we were back. On the drive back, via the out gate and the main road, we were both quiet. It had been an interesting evening.

On Friday morning, I was quizzed at breakfast, having to describe some of the outfits that I’d seen. At the station, the boss was already there, talking to Christine. He took us into his office, and we gave him the main points from last night. He made notes as we went through what Chuck had told us.

“You girls have certainly hit the jackpot there. I’ll need to have a long meeting with the Group Captain, to formalise what’s expected from us, and what they can offer in the way of support, but it looks very good, so far.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I do have some bad news for you, Carol.”

“Oh. What’s that?”

“Because you’re the newest start, you get to work through the Christmas period. Both Mark and Anita will be having time off, so you’ll need to pre-record, or else handle the whole evening. We’ll bring in our Sunday part-timers to handle the afternoon session.”

“That’s doable, as long as I know the dates, so I can prepare.”

“That’s why you’re such a find, Carol. I’ve just told you that you’re going to be doing six-hour shifts, with a probable three-hour preparation, and all you say is that it’s doable. I’ve known others who had been asked the same thing who had complained that Christmas wouldn’t be right without dinner at home with their family.”

Christine snorted. I expect that they were both thinking about the same person.

“If I can pre-record a Saturday afternoon, I would like to pop home with my gifts. I’ll be back for the party show. I can see some Sundays planning for the base shows, seeing that it’s only a couple of weeks away.”

Christine laughed.

“Sunday, friend, we’re going to Lakenheath. You’ll show me the Page set-up. And we can shop at the Exchange. You can give your folks something very American and different, this year.”

I grinned and nodded.

“Great idea, Chris. That would be fun.”

During the day, we had a message from Brendon, asking for Mark and Anita to be ready on Saturday morning to be given the base tour and get their accreditation. They were advised about the arrangement when they came in. There was a real buzz between us when we did our shows that day.

On Saturday, when the jeep arrived to pick them up, Brendon got them into the jeep as he brought a big envelope into the station and gave it to Christine. I saw him through the open door of the second booth.

“That’s the pictures taken by the official photographer on Thursday evening. The Colonel was very happy. I’ll be in touch next week, after we get the others on board. I’ll only give them a quick tour, this morning, and get them back in time for their shows this afternoon.”

Then he was off and in the jeep with the others. I went over as Christine was pulling a sheaf of pictures from the envelope. They were all eight by ten, in colour, and showed various scenes from the dance, with several of the two of us in our vintage gear. We had a bit of a laugh and she put them aside to show Andrew when he came in. There was one that showed me with my full outfit showing, which I asked if I could have. It would be perfect for framing to give to my mother for Christmas.

Marianne Gregory © 2026

Chapter 5

When we went off for lunch, we both needed to buy a frame, Chris having seen a picture of herself at the desk when I was away. We had lunch at the café and then into The Rusty Trunk antique store, where Chris went to some boxes at the back. We each found a nice frame that didn’t cost a lot.

The others had come back before we had left, sporting their new lanyards and big smiles. Mark was on when we got back to the station, so I got my things together, put the photo in the frame where it looked wonderful, and sat beside Norman as we listened to the show. In a break, he turned to me.

“I really should put in for a raise. Before you arrived, I’d just sit here and listen to the show. Now, there’s a call every few minutes.”

The desk lit up and he answered. Just hearing his side was more than interesting.

“That was Saints in Norwich. They’ve been listening to the shows and want to know about getting us in for themed shows. I gave them the email address to put it in writing. They named your shows and the Saturday party show. At this rate, you’ll find it hard to get the time to be on air.”

Mark gave me a hug before I took over the seat, with an ‘I’ll talk to you later’. I did the afternoon show, and Anita also gave me a hug before she took over. Her comment was, ‘when are we going shopping in the Exchange’. I told her to talk to Christine, as we would have to use her car to get on the base.

I prepared for my part of the evening show, and then went off to get something to eat. When I got back, Mark and I started the party show, with Anita joining us after she had eaten. While the tracks were playing, we spoke about the likely parties on the bases, agreeing to meet in the studio the next day to record a six-hour show with adverts for the Saturday we would be away. When we told Andrew, he said that he would come in so that he knew what was being done.

That was our Sunday. A concentrated session in the second booth to record the entire show to computer. There were a lot of songs that were total party favourites, so the only decisions were the ones in between. The two shows would be the twenty-second and twenty-third and would be the same list for both. We would put them together over the next two Sundays, for a show running from seven to one on both nights. We would include a lot more American artists, seeing our audience. As far as Anita and I were concerned, our biggest problem would be what we would get as party dresses.

The confirmations came through in the next week, with the timings as we had been told. I recorded my Saturday afternoon show and phoned home to say that I would be popping in next Saturday as I would be working through Christmas. Chris and I took a couple of hours off on Wednesday morning, and the three of us went to the Exchange at Lakenheath to get presents, including a few for others in the station, from the three of us.

I got Dad a nice ‘Madhatters’ jacket with ‘492nd’ on one side of the front and a big picture of an F15 Strike Eagle over the name on the back. He would be able to play golf in it. I got Mum a Coach handbag, which would have the framed picture in it when she opened the gift. For my brother, I got him a similar jacket to Dads’, but with the ‘494th on the front and ‘Panthers’ under the plane picture. The jackets came in good bags that would suffice as packaging. They obviously sold a few of these as gifts to send back to relatives in the states.

It wasn’t a cheap shop, but we all came away with things we liked. Chris took control of the gifts for the ones in the station, telling us that she would wrap them. We didn’t get party dresses, as Anita told us that she had a shop that supplied hers that she wore for the late show. Later, that week, we three were off again to Bury St. Edmunds, where we ended up getting colourful dresses from Javelins. The other two got ones that showed lots of boob, while mine was less revealing due to just having fillers. Chris told me that it was so much better after an enhancement operation.

On Saturday morning, I loaded up the car and went down to Colchester. It felt odd, almost as if I was visiting relatives, which I was. Both parents were home when I arrived, and I put my gifts in the lounge, telling them not to open them until Christmas morning. I had a card, to all of them, which Mum put on the mantlepiece. She had organised lunch, so we spent a few hours talking, eating, and then talking again. They were amazed that I had access to the bases, and I told them about the show that we had DJ’d. I was caught up with all the local happenings and had to tell them that I wasn’t likely to be able to come home again until well into 2019.

When I left, I had gifts for me in the car, and drove back to Mildenhall with the thought that I hoped that everything would go well tonight, which it did. On Sunday, we got together to write a list for the two shows, mining our library for likely discs. I had a number for Brendon, so called him about American music that they may have. He told me that they used to have a DJ channel on the piped system, and that there was an office that had been used for it, which had been closed since 2013, when the guy that ran it had been deployed home. He said that it had operated from the Youth Centre, in Mildenhall, and, if I cleared the room out, they could use it for something else. A key would be left for me at the main gate, later that day.

Anita and I took Christines’ car the next morning. We picked up the key, with instruction to leave it with the Youth Centre management when we left. I had my tool kit in the car, which was checked out before we were allowed in. Luckily, I had my Licenced Electrician badge to flash to prove that they were my own tools. When we found the room and opened up, it was very dusty, with five years of spider webs and a gold mine in boxes and boxes of discs and CDs, none of them younger than 2012. It took us the best part of an hour with a sack truck we had borrowed to get them down to the car and packed away.

The desk was old, but useable, so I disconnected everything, and we loaded the twin turntables in front of the back seat, with the arms locked down, as the seat had boxes on it. I knew that the motors would be one-ten, but it wasn’t a big job to swap them for two-forty. The controls could be replaced with up-to-date units. When we had everything that we could carry, we got the manager to check the room out and gave him the key, which he took with a smile, giving us both hugs.

On the way out of the base, Anita commented that we had almost enough genuine US releases to run the station for a week. I suggested that it would be good material for the two of us to run four-hours of old US music on a Wednesday night, seeing it was our booty. She told me that I was devious and laughed.

At the station, Mark was there and helped us unload the car, putting all the boxes in a storeroom, and the turntables in the workshop. My toolkit was put where I could take it home. Andrew was also in and was looking through the boxes when Chris and I went for lunch, after I had called Brendon to thank him for the key.

The week passed quickly, and then it was time for our first big party. We were at The Hardstand before six-thirty, all four in Christines’ car, with a few boxes of discs in the back. Andrew had culled some good stuff from our new collection and had made sure that they were playable, so our shows would include some genuine songs from the partygoers past.

We got everything checked out before the guests started to arrive and were given a light tea to keep us going, then told to pop to the food counter whenever we liked during the evening. We three girls were in our party dresses and Mark was in a very colourful shirt and jeans. We looked like DJs; we performed as DJ’s and were applauded at the end of the party. We had all spun the vinyl, including Christine, we had kept the party going at full bore all evening, and had enjoyed ourselves thoroughly.

Our discs stayed in the car overnight, and on Sunday evening we went to the Page Centre and repeated the show. There, we had both Chuck and Brendon in the audience, with their partners, and they were smiling as they hugged us all at the end, wishing us a Merry Christmas. As he hugged me, Chuck told me that there would be a two-weekly shipment of new material coming in from the second week of January, which would be delivered to the station by jeep.

Monday was Christmas Eve, and Tuesday was Christmas Day. I did a show that ran from ten to six, with a recording of one of our party shows running from six to midnight on both days. I was playing a bit of our new stock and taking calls while locked in the studio, alone. I had the keys to the main door and would set up the automated system that ran from midnight to ten. I did that until others arrived from the second of January, with most starting back on the eighth.

I had opened my gifts on Christmas day, getting an excited call from my mother, in which she thanked me for the bag and especially for the lovely photo, which I hadn’t realised had ‘Official USAF Photograph’ on it. She laughed as she told me that my brother and father had been going around, trying to sound like Clint Eastwood in their jackets. I did have to cut the conversation short as I needed to head for work. She said that I would be the soundtrack to their day, so I did a call-out to them around twelve.

For the week of the eighth to the thirteenth, I was excused the day show, just going in to do the evening ones, with Wednesday now utilising our American collection, getting callers wanting to know how we had the rare recordings.

Then the jeep arrived with a box of discs, which had arrived on the base the day before. They were a mixture of new releases of known artists to new works by unknowns. We sampled everything before playing a track. We started with my Wednesday evening show having a few in it, then we put the rockier numbers into the Saturday show. We started getting queries about the unknown artists.

We were likely the first station in the UK to have played Billie Ellish, Alec Benjamin, Yola, Blueface, Lil Nas X, Orville Peck, and Stella Donnelly. There were articles in industry magazines about Zack FM and its rise in the industry. Through that year, we gained a lot more of a reputation, gained a few more people in the studio, and we had our microwave link to the bases established with a channel on the piped system. We did regular dances on the bases, others in dance halls and function venues around our broadcast area.

A lot of my night shows were pre-recorded, as I was out and about more. The year went by in a few seconds, as far as I was concerned. I was very busy, I was having a lot of fun, I was making waves in the industry and a lot of bigger stations wanted me to jump ship.

The problem, for me, was that I hadn’t had the final operations to become Carol. It wouldn’t be possible for me to do that If I was a face at a bigger station. On top of that, all my friends were in Mildenhall, with most of them knowing my secret. So, I stayed where I was, with far more responsibilities than I had expected.

We had a new van, with the station logo on the side, with racks for two DJ desks and secure storage for boxes of music. We even had our own PA and could put on a show, anywhere there was power, with us out at county fairs and the front of advertisers’ buildings. We had a lighting set for outside affairs after dark. With the only cost being the van, the PA and the lights, we were in the black inside six months. During that summer, we visited every seaside town from Felixstowe to Skegness, playing party music at caravan camps, and as far inland as Peterborough.

It was a very heady period for all of us. There was a boost in income from new advertisers, and the fees that we charged for our van and DJ set up. About the only thing that didn’t change was our location and our friendships, with any new people being pulled into the family. For that year it remained as the four of us with base access, and we often had shopping lists for others after we had brought things back.

I had three weeks off in September, which I used to visit a doctor that Chris had suggested, coming back to work with proper breasts and a new outlook on life. I was given a date, in the summer of 2020, to book for my operation. I had been living as a woman for a year and was now in the system.

I did spend a week at home, over that Christmas, as I wasn’t the last on any longer. We had enough voices on air to cover almost anything. The boss was thinking about moving to a building with a proper tower, using the funds that had been set aside. Early in the year, we started reading news snippets about a strange new disease, and early March, things had got worse, with it cropping up in this country. When we were out, we all wore masks, and Christine stocked us up with hygiene essentials.

I think that we were more prepared than most when the government announced the impending lock-down. At the beginning of the lock-down, we started operating as usual, without any of the outside shows. We were still piped into the stations; we had special dispensation to be able to be travelling as we were classed as an essential service. We kept on playing uplifting music and reporting the news that we were given. That March was the beginning of a nightmare for the country, though. In the station we restricted close contact, so worked without the hugs that we had become used to. We did our jobs, we stocked up on supplies when we could, I helped Maude and Jaunty as much as I could.

A week or two into April, we had a phone call from Chuck, to tell us that he was sending someone to collect our van, which we’d get back in a week or so. We couldn’t use it at that time, so he was welcome. When it was returned, it was vastly modified.

Where it had been set up so that we would carry the turntables into a venue, or set them up outside, we now had one side of the van with a lift-up flap, with the turntables on an inbuilt desk, with the PA speakers set with one behind the drivers’ door, with the other behind the back wheel arch on that side. The roof had been lifted to give a bit over six feet inside, and there was now an extra flap on the nearside, which hid two input sockets, one for two-forty and the other for one-ten, with a transformer in a box so we could tap either power to drive the system. It had been resprayed and looked really good. It’s wonderful what can be done with a fully equipped aircraft workshop and skilled panel beaters.

The reason for this became clear the day after. The USA did not have a mandatory lock-down, opting to leave it to various states. As such, the bases were only under advisories, rather than strict orders. Being in the UK, they still had to show that they were following the local laws, so had cut back on local contractors and other casuals.

Chuck, now a one-star General, had the bright idea to let us back into the bases without upsetting the mandated restrictions. By this time, the Lakenheath base was receiving more personnel to operate two extra flights. They were the Four Ninety Third, the ‘Grim Reapers’, and the Four Ninety Fifth, the ‘Valkyries’. They both flew F35As.

The four of us were sent new lanyards, now with ‘Official Entertainer’ on them. The boss made an unusual visit to the station, after asking for the four of us to be there.

“By now, you would have wondered at the changes made to the van and have seen your new base IDs. We have been tasked to supply entertainment to the USAF, through General Sherman. They could, if they wanted, use the usual venues, but are wary of violating our lock-down mandates. As such, you four will be seconded to the USAF as entertainers. They want you to put on shows, parked on a tarmac when it gets warmer, or inside a hangar if it’s cold and wet. The others will operate the station while you’re away. This will be on both of our bases, with a show in Mildenhall every Saturday, and Lakenheath every Sunday until the lock-down eases. Mid-week, you’ll be doing one show on the Tuesday at Fairford. You will be accommodated near there overnight. It’s near Oxford and is where the B-52 bombers are located if they are brought in for European operations. As such there are SAC personnel there and at Brize Norton. This is a big responsibility, and we will be well paid for the service. I can tell you that it will keep the station on air without needing to shed any staff, if this continues beyond a month or so. We’ll load the bins with all the American material we have, with that stash of oldies that you liberated and the new things that we’ll be given. The van has been approved for all base entry, as well as Christines’ car.”

That was different. The four of us would alternate, with Chris now able to hold her own and very personable stature on the microphone. We would be in our own beds on Thursday to Tuesday, at Fairford Wednesday night. It was a small price to pay for making sure that the station stayed on air and would be exciting as well. The first show was to be Saturday night, so we went out and plugged the van into our power to test the system and practise.

We still got shipments from the base, with Brendon sending boxes of supplies along with the new discs and CDs. It allowed us to still be up to the minute, although the quantity of music was a lot less than it was.

I kept in touch with home. My parents and brother were at the shop with a couple of the salesmen who lived close by, packaging electrical equipment to be picked up by the transport company we used, as internet orders and almost taken over the now non-existent walk-ins. The wholesale side was only open for four hours, twice a week.

That Saturday evening, Chris and I drove to the main gate at Mildenhall. We had a jeep assigned to us to lead us to where we would be parked. The site for the show was a hangar, not far from the Hardstand. We went inside and parked near the back wall. Any planes that may have been there had been moved, and there were tables and chairs down each side. The jeep left, and the door was left slightly open. A few guys were setting up and one pulled a lead over and plugged it in, then helped us lift the flap and put the struts into their sockets. Chris and I checked the sound at a louder volume, and it reverberated in the hanger. We checked out where the toilets were and waited for the first guests.

It turned out to be quite a show, with the open door a nod to it being open air. We did our thing until after eleven, with both of us pulled into the dancing during the course of the night. There was plenty to eat and drink, but we kept to water. It wasn’t a big job to pack up. Just lower the flap, secure the discs and lock the turntable arms. The plug was pulled, and we left through the West Row Gate.

Mark and Anita did the Sunday show and reported that the venue was a hangar, just off the fighter hardstands, with a decent space cleared. On Tuesday, us girls were in Christines’ car while Mark drove the van. At Fairford, the venue was again in a hangar, this time with a hardstand between it and a larger one. The numbers were a bit less, and the main audience were RAF, so we planned to have more British music next time. Our accommodation wasn’t actually on the base, but was in Fairford Village, at the Bull. Chris and I shared a double, while the other two had a room each. The show was easy enough for us to do it as duos in future.

We worked through the shows every week from mid-April until into middle August, when all restrictions were lifted, and all schools were reopened for the September term. Some shops and venues had been open since June. In the better weather our shows had taken place outside, with daylight until we were nearly finished. The four of us were given a week off as a thank you for our extra work. I was due for my annual leave and had missed my chance at the operation that had been planned, so I went home for a couple of weeks to see my folks. Dad had caught the virus, but as a non-smoker and pretty fit, was able to get over it without intensive care. I did find out, later, that in our broadcast area, nearly six thousand had died. Mum had been listening to our shows on the radio during the lock-down, which she said had cheered her up to hear my voice.

I was back in Mildenhall at the end of September, and we started to get things back on an even keel when we were hit with another lockdown in November. The base shows had been in a break until then, but, as soon as the new restrictions were in place, we were back on the road again.

Restrictions were lifted in December, but we kept on with the shows, now adding RAF Marham, in Norfolk, as they had heard about them on the grapevine and did listen to the station. That was organised through Brendon, with us getting RAF IDs. That was also in a hangar with the door slightly open, and was fitted into the Thursday, with us staying overnight on the base. It was home to the famous Six One Seven Squadron and flew F35s.

I did normal sessions through the Christmas period, with a couple of the new guys. It wasn’t as hard as the last time I had worked through that time, and having company some of the time was much better.

Marianne Gregory © 2026

Chapter 6

The thing that was disastrous for everyone was that the country was put into another lock-down from the first week of January. This time it was as restrictive as the worst of last year. This was getting very tiresome.

The four of us were back on the road again, now with forms to prove that we’d been vaccinated. We were doing morale building shows from January until July, when restrictions were lifted for, we hoped, the last time. The politicians were starting to show cracks, with talk that it may have been too hard for too long. For us, it was getting to be usual. We four were on first-name terms with the security of four military airfields and the commanding officers. The planes kept flying and the country had been kept safe during the pandemic.

In late July, we went back to our shows in the indoor venues, dropping Fairford and Marham. My first show back was a big band dance at the Bob Hope, similar to my first time there. Christine and I worked the turntables, with our vintage dresses out of the wardrobe again. We were embarrassed when Brendon and Chuck made a special presentation to the two of us. A beautiful glass vase each, engraved with the Stars and Stripes and the Union Jack, with our name underneath and the words, ‘For devotion to duty, raising the morale of the military personnel, 2020 – 2021.’ With all the squadrons and wings that we had entertained listed on the reverse.

We were told not to tell the other two, who would get theirs at the next show at the Page Centre in Lakenheath. I have to admit that we stopped in a layby on the way home that night, to have a good cry. We were getting ourselves together when the car was illuminated by a flashing blue light and there was a knock on each of our windows. Christine put hers down and I followed.

“Good evening ladies. Is there anything wrong? Do you need help?”

Christine took a deep breath to settle herself.

“We’re all right, officer. It’s just that we were given wonderful gifts at the show on the base tonight, and just had to stop so that we could let our emotions run rampant.”

“You say you’ve been on the base? Can you both show your identifications, please.”

We both still had our lanyards around our necks, so we both took them off. She passed hers to the officer on her side and I turned to pass mine to the officer beside me. He had the brightest smile as he took it and stood up. The two of them moved to the back of the car to confer, and then came back. The one on the drivers’ side gave Chris hers with a smile.

“Thank you, Miss. We were just worried that there may have been a problem, seeing that it’s near midnight.”

The one on my side held mine out to me. As I went to take it, he smiled again.

“Miss Novak. I wonder if you could spare some time tomorrow. I’m visiting my mother at St. Peters Care Home in Bury. They all listen to your show and love the old music that you play. It would be a real treat for them to meet you. My name is Randall.”

“I can do that, Randall. I’ll be outside the radio station. What time?”

“About eleven. They’ll be gathering for lunch by the time we arrive.”

“I’ll be ready. Thank you for thinking about them.”

He let go of the ID and gave me another smile. I was putting up the window as Chris pulled out of the layby, laughing like a madwoman.

“You’ll be ready! Do you fall at the feet of every handsome man?”

“He had a nice smile.”

“I was a very nice smile. Even I noticed it when I was at school and still a boy. Randall Chivers was in first year when I was finishing. His father runs the Football Club and is quite well known. His mother, so I’ve heard, is a few years older and if she’s in St. Peters, she’s likely in early stages of dementia.”

“You’re quite the font of knowledge.”

“I wanted to play when I was in my teens and spent a bit of time training with the team. That all finished when I realised that I would rather be a girly than a goalie.”

She dropped me off, still giggling, and I went in to get some sleep, clutching my vase in its presentation box.

I showed my hosts the vase on Sunday morning and told them that Christine had another. They were amazed at it, with Jaunty going through the list of flights and squadrons. It was a lot longer than I had thought it should be, and he explained that a lot of the RAF ones were support units at the two stations. I told them that I was going out for lunch at St. Peters in Bury and Jaunty hooted.

“They’ve sent us flyers, along with all the other nursing homes. With Maude on the list of handicapped, they all think we should be paying them big money to be ‘looked after’. We’ll be here until they carry us out.”

Maude, of course, wanted to know who was taking me. I explained our meeting the police last night.

“That Chivers boy would be a good catch. His father runs the football club, but his main business is the franchisee of a big sports store in Cambridge. The lad denying his family and joining the police was a shock at the time. That was about the time that Chris had finished transitioning. I was his English teacher in primary, before my legs decided that they were revolting. He always had such a nice smile.”

“He still has. It was the smile that made me accept his invitation.”

I went upstairs to get ready. I had a shower and put on an outfit that was close to the one in the station celebrity photo. I took a lot of care with my make-up, wondering why I was doing this. He wasn’t to know that this would be my very first date with a guy. He probably thought that I had a string of boyfriends. He looked as if he had left dozens of girls in his wake.

I was standing outside the station when a bright red hardtop MGA came down the road and stopped beside me. He got out and gave me that smile.

“I’ll give you a hand to get in. I’ve read that these are a bit difficult in a skirt.”

He opened the door and held my hand as I sat and swiveled. He closed the door and got in, driving off.

“Something you read, or something your girlfriends have complained about?”

He laughed.

“I can honestly state that you’re the first girl to sit in that seat. I only finished the restoration during the last lock-down, it was something to fill the off days. I suppose that Christine has filled you in on my reputation.”

“She just told me that you had a nice smile in high school, but I was told by your primary English teacher, at breakfast, that you had a nice smile even then.”

“That was nice of them. I’ve been listening to your voice on the radio for a couple of years, and now I’m lucky enough to have the voice, and the lovely person, sitting beside me. What was your award for, last night?”

“Keeping up the morale of the personnel of four air bases over two years of lockdowns. We were hosting dance nights for them, every week. We had our van, now tricked out as a mobile disc jockey station. It was fun, but a lot of hard work. Anita and Mark will be getting theirs tonight, when they’re at Lakenheath.”

“Was there anything that stands out about doing that?”

“The venues at these bases were away from the runways, though we could hear the take-offs. What was different was when we started to go to Marham, which is an active RAF base, and we’d be playing the songs as an F35 would taxi on the other side of the party and we could see the take-offs from the van. That never got old.”

“I can understand why Christine would have liked it, but you?”

“Yes, Randall, me as well. Tell me, Maude was surprised that you joined the police.”

“Ahah! The old diversionary tactic. The short answer was that I wasn’t cut out to be a salesman in a sports store all my life. As well as not wanting to run around on a football pitch for a living. I disappointed my father, but my mother understood me.”

“So, a gentler disposition with a desire to do good in the community.”

He laughed.

“You’ve either trained as a trick cyclist or you’ve been there yourself.”

“Been there, done that. My family run a big electrical store in Colchester and I’m a qualified electrician and TV repairer. I was lousy in the store and the repairs had got boring. I did three shows a week on the Colchester Hospital Radio, as a volunteer, for seven years before coming here.”

“So, a qualified tradesperson who likes planes. There’s something that doesn’t gel with the lovely lady beside me.”

“If I say that Christine and I have a lot in common, are you going to turn around and take me home?”

We carried on for a while longer as he thought. Then he glanced over to me.

“Pre or post?”

“Still pre. It should have been completed last year but the operation isn’t likely until the backlog is cleared. It wasn’t my choice; I can tell you. I had a body that was heading the wrong way from years ago. Some things have been removed for my own good.”

A little way further on, he had made up his mind.

“OK. I was a mixed-up child. I didn’t like the things that a lot of other boys did. I had a lot of friends in school who were girls, but never wanted to be one. Some of the boys called me Randy Mandy. Until I had a growth spurt, I was bullied. I joined the police because it was one job where I would be trained in all sorts of self-defense and had authority that my normal self never had. The odd thing is that I’m good at what I do, and I like it. A bit like yourself.”

“All very much like myself, Randall. Shall we start over again, both knowing our secrets?”

“No need to start over, Carol. I’m happy with where we are at the moment. Did you pick your own name?”

I laughed.

“My name is what got me here. I was on the hospital radio as Karol Nowak, with a K and a W, which is Polish for Charles Newman. It was Christines’ husband, Andrew, who thought that it was Carol Novak.”

“So, what’s your license in?”

“My real name. I’ve been ferried around a lot since I’ve been here, and when I drive, it’s very carefully. My own car had only been down to Colchester a few times since I got here.”

We were getting into the outskirts of Bury St. Edmunds, and he concentrated on the extra traffic as we went to the home. He parked and turned off the motor, looked at me and smiled.

“Ready for your fans?”

“I don’t know about fans, but I do know that we have a lot of listeners.”

He got out, came round and opened mine, holding out a hand for me. I swivelled and took his hand as he helped me stand. It may have been the devil in me, but I swayed close to him and put my other hand on his chest. He smiled and stepped back to give me room. I reached back into the car to collect my bag and he closed the door and locked the car. As we walked towards the entrance, his hand was floating around, so I grabbed hold of it to keep it safe.

While he was signing us in, I was looking at the pictures on the notice board in reception. It looked to me as if they liked to party. He took my hand as we went into the building, and we ended up in a communal dining room. Every table was full, with the men and women sitting with drinks in front of them. Randall led me over to a table where four ladies were looking at us, one with a cheeky smile on her face. I could see where he had got his from.

She stood and he went forward for a hug.

“Hello, son. Who is this lovely lady?”

“Mum, may I present Carol Novak, the voice of Zack FM.”

She looked at me.

“Go on, give us your intro.”

“Do you mean the ‘Welcome to Anything Goes, the songs from the shows’, or the ‘Tonight we’re taking the A-Train to the world of big bands, big names and big appeal’.”

At that, the other three women stood to join in with a group hug. His mother went to hug her son.

“I knew that one day, you would find someone nice. I feel as if I’ve known Carol for ever. When did you meet?”

“Would you believe that it was checking a parked car, last night. The Sarge and I were on patrol and Carol and her friend were parked in a layby close to midnight, near the Mildenhall base.”

“What were you doing there, dear?”

“We had just played the music for a vintage dance in their Bob Hope Centre.”

“What, in the base?”

“I’ve been playing shows on the bases for over eighteen months, throughout the pandemic.”

“But I was listening to you on the radio!”

“We pre-record a lot these days, because the three of us main announcers have been out doing shows to keep the morale of the servicemen up. I’ll be actually on air in person a lot more now, unless we get another wave of the virus.”

While we were talking, a couple of ladies added another table to theirs and brought out two chairs. I thanked them and we sat down again, now as six. Randall sat next to his mother, and I was on the end, next to him. As we were served, I was asked if I was the Carol Novak from the radio and his mother insisted that my voice was unmistakeable. We had a nice, but fairly plain meal, and the main server called for quiet at the end.

“Guests, we have a visitor today who you have all heard on the radio. Please stand, Carol. I present Carol Novak, our favourite radio personality with her shows of old-time music.”

There was polite applause, followed by a half an hour of nurses being asked to go to rooms to get phones and a concentrated selfie session. Randall and I standing together for one with his mother. At one point, he was off in the toilet, and she stood with me.

“I may be losing my mind, but I can tell you that today has been wonderful. I’d almost given up on my son meeting a nice girl. It’s taken a while, and I’m glad that he managed to do so before I can’t recognise him any longer. I look around at my companions in here and realise that that will be me in a few years.”

I gave her a hug.

“Mrs. Chivers, you’ll always outshine them, even when you don’t know why.”

“Would you call me Mum, just once.”

“I’ll be glad to, Mum.”

Before we left, she was starting to talk about something totally out of context, and about forty years in the past. We both gave her a hug, said our goodbyes to the others and the staff, and Randall took my hand to leave the building.

“What now, Carol.”

“It’s your back yard, what do you suggest?”

“It’s still early, there should be a lot of stalls left at Stonham if we hurry.”

“I’m in your hands, Randall.”

There was an odd look in his eyes as we got to the car. He unlocked and helped me into the seat, then we were off to a place that I’d never been, with a guy I hardly knew, but it was all good.

At Stonham, there were still a lot of cars in the parking area and quite a lot of stalls still set up. We walked around, hand in hand, looking at the bric-a-brac, the cheap imports. Mainly, we admired cars, because it was the Sunday of the Volkswagen Beetle Show.

“You knew this, you naughty boy!”

“I have to admit to having the idea that it was today. It could have been a day that they have live music. I picked up a lot of parts for my car before the pandemic shut things down. It’s really good to be here, and out the other side, with a pretty girl who knows the difference between a split window bug and the others. It’s a lot of fun when they do re-enactment days. They did Vikings, the Civil War, all sorts, and a lot of people used to dress up to suit.”

When we left, I had bought some records from a stall, mainly for the covers, as I doubted that they would be good for playing. After we left, we stopped at the Little Wellington, in Stowmarket, for dinner. We looked at the menu and both chose cod and chips, with a glass of Bishop Nick 1555 beer. It was very strange to feel so calm with Randall. So far, we had been walking around holding hands and had laughed at the same things. When he stopped next to my car, we sat for a few minutes. I turned to him.

“It’s been a lovely day, Randall. Your mother told me that she felt that she had known me for years, and wanted me to call her Mum, while she could still appreciate it. If you like, you can take me to Stonham one Sunday, early, when the market is going full bore.”

“I’d like that Carol. I suppose that this is goodnight.”

“Not until those smiling lips kiss me.”

I leaned in and our lips met. It sent shivers down my spine. Our second kiss was longer, but not closer, as the gearstick got in the way.

“Come in and say hello to Maude and Jaunty. I’m sure that they’d love to see you.”

He got out, helped me out, and we stood beside the car, arms around each other and kissed for some time. I then led him inside for the inevitable cup of tea and a talk, before we had a quick kiss at the door, and he left. I went back into the kitchen in a daze. Maude was grinning.

“You look like Chris after her first date with Andrew. He’s grown up to be a fine man, and his smile is still the best in town.”

“I’ve seen a lot of it today.”

“I bet. He’s smitten, as my old mother used to say. Does he know?”

“Yes. It came up on the way to see his mother. We talked it out and then put it aside for another day. His mother was lovely, and quite normal for much of the time. She wanted me to call her Mum.”

“She must have seen what I’ve just seen. The two of you look good, a genuine couple of soulmates. Where did you go afterwards?”

“Would you believe that we ended up at the Stonham Barns for the boot sale and a Beetle car show.”

To the sound of her chuckling, I went upstairs with my purchases and sat in my easy chair to think about the day. It had been the best day that it could have been, and I was looking forwards to more in the future, especially more of those kisses.

Over the next few weeks, we were back into the usual groove. We were now doing the indoor shows in the two bases, me and Chris on Saturday, Anita and Mark on Sunday. We had trained up two of the new faces to run the van, parking it outside one of our advertisers’ box store in Norwich, on a Saturday, next to a charity sausage sandwich and pie stall. I went with them to make sure that they interacted with the crowd and didn’t just look glum as they played the music.

Randall and I had the odd outing. I don’t mean that they were odd, unless you thought that car boot sales and a pub meal were odd. Actually, we did go to other places. A few cinemas in Cambridge and Norwich. One Sunday, we went down to Colchester to introduce him to my parents. That was interesting, as my father gave him the ‘what are your intentions with my daughter’ question. Randall told him that his intentions were all above board with his fingers theatrically crossed behind his back. We had a lot of laughs and both of us enjoyed each other’s company.

It was heading for my holiday time, but Randall would be on duty, so I stayed in Mildenhall for the first week, so we could have Sunday out. Monday, I went home for a week and had a visit to my doctor, to talk about the timing for my operation. While I was with her, she rang a few of her contacts.

“Right. We can get you in at the hospital in the third week in July. You will need to give yourself three weeks.”

I went out into the waiting room and rang the station, speaking to Chris.

“Chris, I’ve just spoken to my doctor. She’s told me that I can get in for my op on the third week of July and will need three weeks from then. Can you check with the boss. If needed, I’ll come back to work next Monday to save the week, then I can take two weeks from next year.”

“Sounds good, Carol. I’ll talk to him and call you back straight away.”

I sat for a while and worried. When my phone chirruped, I pressed the button with trepidation.

“Carol speaking.”

“It’s Christine. The boss said that it’s all good. That you’ve done enough to get all the help that we can give you. We’ll see you Monday morning. Randall will be happy to see you on Sunday.”

I waited until the doctor was in between patients and was shown in to let her know. She told me to wait for her to contact me with the official paperwork. I gave her the email address of the station and told her to make it attention to me, via Christine.

“Do you trust her with your secret?”

“She is post-op, herself. I’ve worked with her in high pressure situations and trust her with my life.”

I went home to give Mum the news that I was leaving early and that I would be back, in July, to have my operation. She was sad that I was leaving early, but happy for me that I would be taking the last step.

I drove back to Mildenhall on the Saturday, after calling Randall before he went on the evening shift. He was happy that I would be home early, and he said that he would be around on Sunday morning. On Sunday, when he arrived, we sat with the others in the kitchen. Over a cup of tea, I outlined the likely timeline for next year, barring another wave, that was. By now, most of the country had received their second vaccination, and the government was wary about any more lockdowns.

Maude asked him if he had told his father about me. He took hold of my hand.

“No, Maude, I haven’t. When I went against his wishes, he disowned me. He had heard some of the boys from school speculating about my sexual preferences in the football club changing rooms. He told me that I was only joining the police so that I could meet gays and then organise sex with them. I had disappointed him by not training with the team, and then by not working under his gaze in the shop. I haven’t spoken to him since I left home to do my training.”

“Don’t you think that he should know that you’re getting married.”

“I know what he’ll say, because he’s said it before. He’ll tell me that he’ll only relent when I come home with a wife and a baby, prepared to be undermanager. We all know that, unless we adopt, I’ll only get one out of three. No, Maude, I’m now living my life, on my terms, and if Carol will be my wife, it will be a wonderful life to live.”

I squeezed his hand.

“That’s about the most half-hearted proposal I’ve ever heard, my love.”

“I’ll get a ring, during the week, and do it properly.”

“When you have time off, give me a call and we’ll choose it together. I don’t want you spending too much.”

He grinned and kissed me. Jaunty laughed.

“Not yet engaged, and she has him on the ropes. You really do have it bad, son. The thing is, that in the time we’ve known Carol, we’ve grown to love her, as well. She’s one out of the box. Introduce her to your inspector and you’ll have those stripes on your uniform before the walk down the aisle.”

We walked up to Market Place and had a quick lunch at the KFC at The Precinct. Then we went to St Mary’s Church to have a look inside.

Marianne Gregory © 2026

Chapter 7

We had just walked in, and I was admiring the wonderful stained-glass windows. Randall was looking around.

“I used to come here with my parents as a youngster, before we moved to Bury. It hasn’t changed a bit.”

We jumped when there was a voice behind us.

“It hasn’t changed much since the thirteenth century, young Randall Chivers. Long time since you’ve been in here.”

Randall turned and shook the mans’ hand.

“We moved away, Vicar, and then I left home to join the police. Then I was training at Martlesham Heath for a while.”

“And now you’re here, in your old church, with the lovely Carol Novak. There must be a reason. You wouldn’t be just showing her the sights.”

“Astute as always, Vicar. We’ve been discussing marriage, and this would be the church of choice, if you’d have us.”

“When would that be, not an instant decision, I hope.”

Randall laughed.

“Nothing like that, Vicar. We’re looking around this time next year. There’s a few things to sort out before then.”

The Vicar looked at us and smiled.

“Now, that’s so old-fashioned it warms my heart. There’s too many who have walked in here and demanded that the nuptials take place within the next two months so that the bride can still get into her wedding dress. And you, Miss Novak. We haven’t seen you in here, are you not religious?”

“Not a lot, Vicar. My ancestors were nominally Catholic, as they came over from Poland at the beginning of the war. The war years messed all that up and they never regained their faith. I went to the St. James Primary, which was C of E, in Colchester, and then to the Gilberd High, which was non-denominational. My parents spent much of Sundays catching up on housework, being busy growing the family business.”

“What business is that?”

“We’re Newman Electrical in Colchester. We have a big shop for retail, and another one for wholesale and repair work. Newman is the translation of Nowak.”

“Interesting. Yet you’ve been here for a few years, now.”

“It was an opportunity to be on air, something I’ve wanted to do for ages.”

“Yes, I’ve heard your voice and loved a lot of your shows. Not those brash new things, though, although it does go down well with some of our younger parishioners. I heard that you, and your colleagues, were instrumental in keeping the bases on an even keel over the last two years. An admirable feat and would have been tiring.”

“It would have been worse if there hadn’t been the four of us with base access. It was like going into another country, even before COVID, and even more so when we were in lockdown. On the two bases here, it was as if the virus didn’t exist. The two RAF bases we went to were more like the normal state of things.”

“Have a look around, good people, and when you get closer to the date you can see me to pencil it in. I would hope to see a bit more of you at that time, to make sure that you hearts are in the right place.”

He left us to our wanderings. The church was, indeed, magnificent, from the high ceiling to the wonderful windows and even a pipe organ. I had been living as a woman for long enough, with the extra input from my female friends, to appreciate the setting and imagine myself walking down the aisle in a white dress. A lot had to happen before that day, though.

We sat on a bench in the churchyard. Randall was quiet.

“What’s the problem, love?”

“This has brought so many memories back to me. To a time when my father still loved me, and my mother was witty and intelligent. Now, he hates me and she’s fading fast. On my own, I could just dismiss it all, but with you, my darling, it makes me realise that I have to make a new life and be successful, for us.”

“Don’t let it get to you. I’ve got a reasonable amount saved up, with hardly any expenses since I’ve been here. I have a good salary and I get a dividend from the family business, considering that I have a quarter of it. I expect that we have, between us, enough for a good deposit on a nice home, enough for furnishings, and we both have good jobs. Yours may be more secure than mine, though.”

“It’s just that I was brought up with the concept that it’s the husbands’ job to support the family, with the wife meant to be at home or as an adornment.”

“Get with the modern day, love. Queen Victoria is long gone, and your fathers’ ideas are long past their use-by date. If anything, the last couple of years have changed the country more than any ten years since the Spanish Flu and the Plague. We’re going to be a team, or else it’s off. I’m no mere adornment.”

He hugged and kissed me.

“You’ll always look good, my darling. I’ll try to be inclusive.”

“Talking about being inclusive, you know where I live but you’ve never taken me to your home, wherever it is.”

“Ah. That’s not a place where I would like to be, but it’s walking distance to the police station and there’s parking for the car. I have a rather grotty rental in Wamil Court. Some of us call it Waydown Court, the brick equivalent of living on a trailer park. It’s not somewhere that I’m proud of.”

“Any particular reason for that?”

“I keep it tidy enough. It’s just that there’s no maintenance, and the TV reception is intermittent.”

“Where’s the aerial?”

“On some blocks it’s on an end wall, but rentals like ours, I think it’s in the roof.”

“It could be rats chewing on the cable. Do you have an access hatch?”

“If there is, it’s probably in the shared laundry.”

“Check it out and speak to your neighbours. See if you can get hold of a stepladder and let me know. I’ll dress appropriately next Sunday and bring my kit with me. And make sure that you get a big box of rat pellets, as I’ll spread them around the roof if I see a nest.”

“You really are amazing, my darling.”

“Tell me that when I’ve got your reception back.”

“So, what about where we’re going to live after we get married?”

“We have plenty of time to look around. We just need something with enough room for us and two cars. It doesn’t have to be a flash mansion, but detached or semi would be nice.”

“It seems like such a big thing. They say that buying a house is one of the biggest decisions that you can make.”

“Are you getting cold feet?”

“No, I’m just naturally wary of doing something that will throw up a flag with my father. He’ll find out, one way or another. He’s in a lodge with most of the business owners and property offices in town.”

“You never know, we may not be here at that time, life has a habit of throwing you a curve ball.”

“I guess. I might get a transfer to another area. I’ve been studying for sergeants’ stripes in the past year, not being able to go out a lot. My sergeant is supportive. I don’t want to be a uniformed constable in a patrol car all my life.”

“I’ve been asked about moving to other stations but have resisted the offers. Who knows, we may get offers at a good time to move.”

We walked up to the Cappadocia Meze Grill after we had talked most of the afternoon and had dinner. He walked me home and we had a little kissing session before he got in his car to go off home. I went up to my room and thought about what we had discussed. There was a lot to unpack, not the least being looking at a church, something that had never been in my perceptions of a likely future.

I was back at work on Monday morning and into sorting out my shows for the week. On the Sunday, I was in the roof over Randalls’ rental with my kit and a box of rat poison. The aerial was in the roof space and the connections had been loosened by rats chewing on the cable. I was able to splice in a new section and put some poison around. It took another hour, walking on the joists to track all the cables to the other units and make repairs as I went, with enough rat poison left behind to wipe out the rats of Hamblyn.

As the residents tested their TVs, we were offered money but refused. It had been a simple job which raised Randall in the eyes of his neighbours, some that I could see wouldn’t have had much love for the police. He took me home to change and shower, and the came back to take me out to one of the country pubs that we liked. After the meal, I raised my glass to him.

“A toast to you, Randall, a man of sense and empathy.”

“Why do you say that?”

“There were neighbours of yours who probably have their faces adorning the walls of police stations, yet you choose to turn a blind eye. Even I could see the looks that they gave you. It was a begrudging thanks, but they will be happy when you move out.”

“You have me there, my love. I know that there may have been bad pennies scattered through that complex, but they don’t bother me, so I let it lie. I keep learning things about myself with the more I learn about you.”

“That’s why you’ll make a good detective as you go up in the world. You won’t just grab the first one who looks like the criminal. You’ll get the evidence right before you pounce.”

“You make me sound like a lion.”

“You will be, to some, but you’ll always be my big pussy cat.”

The weeks flowed, one to another, with the biggest event was having a reporters and photographer from the Eastern Daily Express in the studio. They wanted the full story of our times with the bases and the rise of the studio in spite of COVID. They took pictures of the four of us, each holding our presentation vase, as well as us having to open up the van and describe how we operated on a remote site. The article was in the paper, in a special edition about notable businesses during the year in the area, in the week before Christmas. Then, it was time for another Christmas. I had the week off, seeing that I had worked through the last one, but Randall had to work. We had a Christmas dinner together and exchanged gifts. We had finally got around to buying rings, nothing fancy, just gold bands with engraving inside.

I went home between the public holidays to give my family their gifts and to catch up with the news. Some of the news wasn’t good, as Dad was having a hard time getting back to normal after his first bout of COVID, and a brush with a second, even though it was minimised with the vaccine. I had a quick visit to my doctor, who told me that my shows were still popular in the hospital, with them getting regular recordings from Zack as well as repeating old ones.

I popped into the hospital radio studio to say hello. Most of the older volunteers had gone, some with COVID, but the newer ones that were there were happy to see me. I was given a bag of mail that had come for me over the last couple of months, that hadn’t been forwarded. I took it home and looked through it with Mum.

Ninety percent were thank you notes from discharged patients but there were a few that were more than interesting. There were a couple from local radio stations, asking me to drop in if I was interested in joining them. For me, that would be a backward step after the coverage I had been enjoying. One was a note from an executive of BBC 1, with an invitation to speak to them about joining the BBC Essex team, working out of Chelmsford. That had been left there in late November.

I took the interesting ones back to Mildenhall with me. I was meeting up with Randall for a New Year party. Back in my usual surroundings, we welcomed in 2023 with a big group of friends at the Mildenhall Social Club. Most of the station were there and there was a three-piece local group on the small stage. Randall was on call, so had his radio clipped to his waistband, and had to head off at eleven to help with a party that had gone off the rails. He was back at ten past midnight, so we got our new year kiss in before he drove me home for another session.

It was February when I had the notification from the hospital with my operation date. It was to be in the first week of September. I made the arrangements with the station for that week and the two that followed as my holiday.

The week after that, I had another letter delivered to the studio, marked ‘Private & Confidential’. Chris gave it to me with a grin. I didn’t open it until I was back home, in my bedroom. It was a short note, just an invitation to meet a representative of BBC Radio Essex, at a time and place of my choosing. There was an information sheet about the station with a picture of a white building and another of a very modern desk, without a single turntable.

On the Sunday, I showed it to Randall. He laughed so I punched his arm.

“Sorry, darling. I’ve got something that came around last week. My Inspector suggested that I think about it, as it’s a step up to plain clothes.”

It was a flyer with the Essex Police logo, asking for expressions of interest in transferring to their detective division, operating out of Chelmsford, with a probationary three months as a detective constable, rising to detective sergeant if that rank had already been reached in the uniform branch.

“I’ve been told that I can sit the exam in two weeks if I want to try for this. It doesn’t commence until July, after some extra training, so would give me time. There’s no sergeant places available here until someone retires, and most are still in their fifties, with the COVID losses already filled. They’ll contact my superiors before getting back to me with an invitation to a meeting.”

“Do you want to give it a try?”

“It would take me a long way from my father, and my mother hardly recognises me now. Where’s that radio station?”

“In Chelmsford, one and a half miles from the police headquarters.”

He hugged me and we kissed.

“Could we move?”

“Of course. I would actually be closer to my family if we lived there. We both have to get the jobs first.”

That week, we both made the move to see if we could change our future. I rang the contact on my letter, and we had a nice talk, agreeing to a meeting, in Colchester, on the next Sunday. We set the meeting at midday, at the Swan Inn, south of the city. It was, after all, my home turf, and I could see my family before coming back. Randall had that day off so could drive me down in the MG.

It was a rainy drive down, and I was glad that he was driving. We got to the hotel before noon and dashed inside, asking for the table booked in the name of Novac. We used the conveniences and then sat with drinks before he turned up, a couple of minutes after noon. When he was pointed to our table, I stood and shook his hand and introduced Randall as my fiancé.

He was Walter Benson, and in charge of the station HR. He apologised for being late, citing the weather and other drivers who used the outside lanes on the A12 but travelled well under the speed limit. We ordered our meals and he asked for some water. Over the course of an hour, he told us that it was the article in the Eastern Daily that had been syndicated to the other Home Counties during January, that had piqued the interest in me, especially as I was an Essex Girl.

The station was broadcast on AM, FM, and DAB, with an on-line link and wasn’t twenty-four hour, with five hours silent during the early hours.

There wasn’t a headline celebrity as such, and a lot of the programming was shared content with all of the county BBC1 stations in the east contributing. From six, the content was supplied by BBC1 nationally. The weekend had local content in the morning, with shared and regional in the afternoon and network content in the evening.

He seemed happy with what we had talked about, and then got serious.

“Look, this is between us. Four of our presenters will be leaving us in September. Three were putting on a show called ‘Essex Quest’ which will be discontinued. Two were regular weekend morning presenters. We’re looking for someone bright and happy to do six hours on Saturday and Sunday mornings, as well as helping out between two and six on weekdays. The forward planning is a start in the first week of September.”

“I’m in hospital during that week, and will be ready on the fourth week, at the earliest. I suppose that I could see about getting it put forward, but I doubt that they would be able to do so, seeing the backlog that they’re working through.”

“We could work with that. The weekend mornings are usually two on the desk, so we could get you in and pre-record segments. It will only be six shows, after all. Can you leave Zack if we make the offer, and come to us a month earlier?”

“I could. I’ve been happy there but being part of the BBC will be good. My time in Mildenhall has been exciting and very busy, but it’s time to move on. Randall is applying for a transfer to the Essex Police, so it would be great if we both start new jobs.”

When we parted, he promised to get back to me within two weeks, as there would be meetings to endure. We went into Colchester to see my family before heading back to Mildenhall.

Two weeks later, I had received a registered letter from the BBC, with an official invitation to fill in the forms enclosed. This led me to ring Walter.

“Mister Benson, it’s Carol Novac. I have your application forms. I have a question, which may cause you to withdraw your offer.”

“Oh, yes, Carol. Is that the one about you really being Charles Newman?”

“Actually, it is. My reason for the operation is to become Carol by medical intervention. My gender problem was a medical one, not a life-style choice. I’ll be able to become officially Carol after the operation.”

“That’s not a problem, Carol. We did our due diligence before we got in touch. It’s not as if you’ve gone to great lengths to hide the fact. We’ve listened to your shows, and I’ve met you in person. There is no way that you’re anything other than a female radio presenter, and you do it very well. Just fill in those forms with your current name and we’ll do a duplicate when you get your new birth certificate.”

I filled in the forms and sent them back. While I was waiting, Randall had been given a date for an interview. He had sat for his exam and passed, and his superiors had given him a positive review. He drove us down to Chelmsford on a Wednesday morning; my two shows having been pre-recorded.

The interview was at the police headquarters, with both of us asked to attend after he had made it known that he was engaged. The interview process was usual. We sat in a waiting area with a group of other couples, with each couple being called in, but obviously leaving by another door.

When we were called in, he was told to sit on one of the seats in front of four other senior officers, two male and two female. I was pointed to a seat by the door. He was asked a lot of questions about his experience and his reasons for wanting a transfer. They all had a copy of his file in front of them.

When that had run its course, I was invited to sit beside him. The first question was rather brutal.

“Miss Novac. You do realise that being the wife of a policeman is one of not knowing if he’ll be coming home at night. The wife of a detective is even harder, as he may be somewhere in the county for days on end.”

“I do realise that. I’ll have my own job and I’m old enough to understand the dangers. If my years with Randall are brought short, it will still be better than not being with him at all.”

“What is your own job, if we may be so bold?”

“I’m on a short list to be a presenter on BBC1 Essex Radio later in the year.”

One of the women leaned forward.

“I read an article about a bunch of radio people keeping our servicemen on an even keel over COVID. I think that you may have been named.”

“I was one of four with unlimited access to supply DJ entertainment to USAF personnel at Mildenhall and Lakenheath, as well as at RAF Fairford and Marham during last year.”

“They gave you ID that gave you access to four operational air bases?”

“They also gave the four of us commemorative vases afterwards. That was the night I met Randall. Christine and I had pulled into a layby to have a cry when we were going home, and he was in the patrol car that checked us out.”

“And now you’re both sitting here, looking as much as a couple as you can be. Will you be intending to live in Chelmsford?”

“We will be, if we can find a nice place at the right price.”

“You don’t mind coming here?”

“I’m originally from Colchester, so I’ll be closer to my family than I am now.”

The four of them had a huddle, then the senior officer smiled.

“Officer Chivers. We have decided that you would make a good recruit to our detective branch. Your down-to-earth approach, your review from your current superiors, and the obvious support of Miss Novac has tipped the balance. There will be an official form sent to your superior, asking for your release from the Suffolk Police. We can supply temporary housing while you undergo extra training. We have your exam results, and you will become a Detective Sergeant once you’ve passed the probationary period. You are both aware, I hope, that should you not pass the probationary period, there is no way back. You will be out of a job and unlikely to get another in the police.”

“Understood, sir.”

“The constable will see you both out. I look forward to seeing you make a good career with us.”

We both stood and were led out through another door. Before we left the building, Randall had been photographed and had his fingerprints taken to be part of his official file.

We stopped at a pub on the way home, for dinner, and didn’t drop me outside the house in Mildenhall until nearly nine. I gave him an extra kiss before I went inside. It had been a long and very interesting day.

Marianne Gregory © 2026

Chapter 8

I resisted giving too much away when asked what I’d been up to. I just said that I’d gone with Randall to a job interview. Christine wanted to know if he was leaving the police and I told that he wasn’t, just going to another area, but that we would still be able to be together. I think that she was starting to realise that change was in the air.

Anita was also acting a bit oddly as well. She still wore the good dresses for her evening program, but her voice wasn’t as sultry any longer, still somewhat sexy, but not her usual ‘I want to be in bed with you’ voice. I fact she was sounding as if she would rather be in bed and asleep.

I managed to cajole her into taking an early lunch with me. Instead of going to the bakery, I led her to the Crumbs café, were we could talk. She was curious.

“Why are we here and not at the usual café?”

“Because we need to talk without Christine catching on. She’s a lovely girl but she’s too close to management.”

“Ah. I see what you mean. What am I doing wrong?”

“Your night voice isn’t there any longer. You’re sounding as if you can’t wait to be home.”

“Damn right I can’t wait. I’ve been doing that shift for a good five years and it’s got old. Our gigs in the bases has shown me another life. I’ve been talking to Chuck about getting a permanent position on the bases to DJ the shows. It will mean that I’ll become a contractor, forming my own company, and getting a contract to be exclusive in the two bases. That means that I will be rid of the afternoon shows and can get a proper eight-hour sleep. You seem to have a different air around you as well. When are you leaving?”

“I’ve been offered a job with BBC1 Essex, working in Chelmsford. Randall will be transferring to the Essex Police as a detective. We’re keeping the lid on it until we’re absolutely certain. Some organisations thrive on meetings.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“Sometime late in the year or early next year. There’s a few hoops to jump through before that.”

“While we’re sitting here and clearing the air, I really have to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For putting Zack in a position where we could weather the lockdowns and even grow. I know a few of my friends in the industry are zealous of us. Quite a few had to go on short hours or drop pay. There have been a couple of companies with multiple stations who’ve shut up shop. It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t brought your voice to us.”

“Thank you for the thought, but most of it was the luck of being in the right place and looking like a solution. I would have never thought of converting the van like that. Chuck was the one with the idea and the means to make it work.”

“He’s quite a guy, that’s darn tootin!”

“Getting with the sayings are we?”

“That’s because of Marty. He’s a pilot in the Grim Reapers. He always comes to our shows on Sundays and spends most of the time looking at me. I’ve got Mark doing more so we can dance. If I’m able to go in the base on weekdays, we’ll be able to get a lot friendlier, if you get my drift.”

“What happens when he goes home?”

“Not sure. Even if I never see him again, I’ll have something to remember. He’s told me that he’ll come back when he leaves the air force. He said that he may enlist with the RAF, considering his F35 training.”

We had our lunch, and I got a few things from Sainsburys to make it look as if we’d gone shopping. We went back into the studio and carried on. Anita had some of her sultry working when I left, a bit after ten.

It was well into March when I had the confirmation that I would be starting with the BBC. They wanted me to start working at the beginning of July, learning the ropes and getting my voice into various programs. With the shared content, programs were made without local announcements and could be played throughout the network. That meant that I could, one day, be heard on a BBC station anywhere in the country.

Randall now had a firm date as well. He would be starting the extra training at the police college, doing advanced study in crime scene assessment and forensics. He would be going to Chelmsford at the end of April. I called my doctor and told her of the new situation and also told her that I would take a cancellation spot before September should one happen.

We went to Colchester on a Sunday morning to tell my family what we were going to do. I would be putting my notice in at the end of March, to finish at around the time he leaves Mildenhall. I asked if I could stay in my old room and was welcomed back into the household. I would live in Colchester while he was in training and spend my days looking for somewhere to live within easy reach of our two jobs. I would have May and June to get something sorted out. I had enough savings to cover my expenses and still help Mum out with the shopping.

We would live together from then until I had the operation, then as a couple until my new paperwork came through and we can get married. It won’t be in his old church, but it wasn’t an important factor.

I put my notice in at the end of March. The boss tried to tempt me with more money, but I just told him that I was following my fiancé to Essex, which he had to accept was a valid reason. Anita got her contract and new ID in the middle of April and put her own notice in. Our management had to replace both of us inside a couple of weeks. The extras that had come in during the lockdown and our trips to the bases were lifted into the seats and juniors brought in to fill their places. I was only doing training in my last two weeks, and Anita would take that over in her last two.

I had done my final show, part of the Saturday evening party, and was only in the station during the days for the last two weeks. Anita did her final show on the day after I had left. That Friday, it was bittersweet. Everyone was sad to see me go, praised me for the work I’d done but were all wondering about what their own future would be. I had to tell them that their future was in their hands.

I went off to lunch with Christine, telling her that she may hear me on the BBC1 station in future, but to let it be a surprise for the others. She told me that Chuck had given the station a two week notice of ending the contract to supply the two bases’ entertainment. She had guessed that it was to be Anitas’ next job.

In the afternoon, I packed some of my things and spent some time with Maude. She was unhappy that I was leaving but knew that nothing is for ever. I would be heading to Colchester on Monday morning. Randall and I went to the cinema on Friday night and cuddled in the back row.

On Saturday, I drove over to Wamil Court to help him pack the MG with his clothes. We loaded his sound system and TV into my car, along with his small collection of kitchen things and his vacuum cleaner. I would be taking these to Colchester on Sunday, along with my own heavier things. I wished him luck at the college, and we had an extended kissing session, and then he drove off in the MG towards his new future in Chelmsford and a long way from his father. I could see the new determination in him over the last couple of weeks.

When he had left, I drove to the Lakenheath base entrance and parked by the office. I went in to be greeted by an officer who I knew.

“Good morning, Miss Novac, what can we do for you today?”

“I need to hand in my base ID, Major. I’m leaving the area next week. I expect that the others will have theirs collected in two weeks.”

“I can take that for you, Miss, and pass it to the General. Is there anything you would like to get from the Exchange before we take it from you. I believe that the General has set up a farewell amount for you to spend, in appreciation of all that you’ve done for us.”

“I’m gobsmacked. That’s a wonderful gesture. Please pass on my thanks to the General. My car hasn’t been inspected for entry, I have always come with others or the station DJ van.”

“That’s no problem, Miss. We’ve all appreciated your shows in hard times.”

He turned towards the back office.

“Johansson, get the jeep warmed up and take Miss Novac to the Exchange. Carry her bags and bring her back here when she’s spent her money.”

An airman came out and grinned at me.

“It will be a pleasure, sir.”

He went out and started the jeep. I looped the lanyard over my neck.

“See you later, Major.”

I was driven to the Exchange. On the way, my driver told me that it was our regular shows that stopped him, and his fellows, from going crazy with worry over the COVID bad times. He had lost, he said, a few of his older family members during that time, and didn’t have anything nice to say about his own government.

At the Exchange, I found that my credit was in the main store that sold US clothing and electricals. I had enough leeway to buy four flight jackets, two of the ‘Grim Reapers’ for my father and Randall, and two ‘Valkyries’ for me and Mum. There was enough left over for a New York brand dress and a golfing sweater for my driver, which was left under the counter for him to pick up later. He bought me a snack in the café and then drove me back to the gate to help me add the bags to my car, then I gave him a hug and my ID. He, and the Major, waved to me as I drove away from a very interesting time in my life.

Back at the house, I added my own things to the load and had a quiet evening, watching TV with Maude and Jaunty. I was going to miss their no-nonsense and no-regrets approach. They had taught me a lot in my time here.

Sunday, straight after breakfast, I was heading down to Colchester. Dad had made room for me in the garage and helped me unload before going off to the golf club for a late morning round. I had lunch with Mum and made up my bed for tomorrow night and made sure that the wardrobe and drawers were empty. She was more than happy that I was back but questioned my own reasons.

“Are you sure that you’re doing the right thing? Not the marriage part, but the new station. You won’t be so high profile in future.”

“It may not be high profile for a while, Mum, but being a regular morning show host on weekends will give me some relaxation after the craziness of the last couple of years. I will also be making contributions to the shared content. If they are well received, I’ll still be heard throughout East Anglia, and perhaps other stations around the country. This will mean that I’ll have steady work, without needing to be on in the evening. It’ll be more like a normal job. On top of that, it’s good money and having been on the Beeb will look good on my resume.”

“I suppose you’re right dear. It’s a mothers’ place to worry. When will you be back tomorrow?”

“Late morning, I think. There’s a few that I’d like to see before I leave. All I need to load will be clothes and personal things.”

I drove back north after lunch but went to Bury St. Edmunds first. When I walked into the day room at the care home, I was greeted by a lot of the residents. Randalls’ mother was sitting there with a magazine in front of her. I sat down.

“Hello, Mum.”

Her face lit up.

“Carol, isn’t it? My son came in the other day and said something about going away. I know that most of the time I’m off with the fairies, and didn’t take it all in.”

“He’s gone to Chelmsford, to become a detective. I’ll be going there to go on the radio, and we’ll be getting married.”

“That’s nice, dear. You make a nice couple. Chelmsford, that’s where that Marconi chap lived, I think. Just don’t become one of those naughty Essex Girls, that was a fun show, but not a life I would lead.”

She started off with anecdotes about a life well led, but all over the place. I stayed for a while and gave her a kiss on the forehead before I left her, still chattering about some cycling club and Disraeli gears, such a clever man!

In Mildenhall, there were a few business owners that I wanted to say goodbye to and thank for their support. Finally, I went into St. Mary’s to say a silent thanks to whatever god lived here, for nurturing my future husband. I told the Vicar that we would be getting married in either Colchester or Chelmsford, and he nodded, sagely.

“You are a good woman for him, Carol. He needed someone strong, but supportive, in his life. The two of you should do well.”

I went back to the house that had been my home for some years and filled the back seat with a pile of clothes and the boot with bags. All I would have, in the morning, would be my bag of today’s clothes, and my bathroom things. That evening, I watched some TV and then went upstairs, changing into my nightie and sitting in the now nearly empty spare room, catching up with emails on my laptop. There was one from Friday, from the Colchester Hospital, advising me that there was a cancellation that opened up a spot for me. It would be the Monday of the third week of May, giving me a few days to reply.

I answered it straight away, giving my old home address to send the paperwork to. This would mean that I would be finished with that before my starting date with the BBC. I would tell Randall when I next saw him. He would be emailing me with his schedule in the college when he knew it. Once again, things were happening to help me.

In the morning, I had breakfast with my hosts and loaded my final things in the car. After double-checking the rooms with Jaunty, I hugged him and then bent to give Maude a hug. We were all a bit teary, and she told me to look after Randall.

I drove back to Colchester. I had flourished while I had been in Mildenhall. The radio gig had given me a lot, the business with the bases had added more than I could have ever imagined. If I bombed in radio, I could now start my own business as a DJ for hire. Have disc, will travel.

At home, I unloaded the car and took it all up to my room. The wardrobe was filled with things on hangers and the drawers were filled with underwear and accessories. The contents were colourful and so unlike what it used to be. My laptop went on charge, along with my phone.

That evening, I had an email from Randall. He told me that he was sharing a room with another new recruit and didn’t want to talk on the phone unless he was alone. He would be working the weekdays in classes, and spending his Saturdays with a detective training officer, so Sundays were all we’d have for a while. His probationary period wouldn’t start until he had completed the fast-track course for uniformed who were stepping up.

I replied, telling him that I would be parked on Kingston Avenue, next to the police college, at eleven. I had made a list of places we could look at after lunch. The closest to where we would work was on Dove Lane, and in the low four hundreds. It was about two miles from the police station, and less than half a mile from the radio station. There were others on the list but further out.

We had a hug and a kiss when he walked up to the car, and then had lunch at the Toby Carvery, catching up with the past week. I told him about my new hospital date, and he kissed me some more. He used a local street map to guide me to a two-storey semi, with a driveway for cars, on Dove Lane, about two miles south of the police headquarters. The last place was at Galleywood, some way further south and another fifty thousand, but on a decent size block. They were a good start and gave us a good idea of what was available.

While we were in the area, we had dinner at the White Bear and then I dropped him off by the police college and carried on back to Colchester. During the week, I looked at other places, Mum beside me to offer guidance. In the second week of May, we found a nice, detached home, in Regal Close, off of Wallace Crescent. As the crow flies, it was around a mile from the police station, and about the same from BBC Essex. It was modern, two storey, had space for both cars with one in a garage. On top of that, it was well inside our budget. There was a Lidl and Farmfoods not far away, with The Moulsham Inn sharing the same car park. It was a Greene King pub, so had a big range of food and drink. Mum and I had stopped there for a meal.

As we could buy immediately, after we had looked at it and agreed, Randall and I put a good deposit on it and went to my bank to apply for a mortgage. With my impending work with the BBC and my link with Newman Electrical, and his job with the police, we had no problems being accepted.

We put the house in joint names, as I would be continuing as Carol Novac into the future if I stayed on radio. We got the keys on the Friday before I went into hospital, so my parents helped us take our things to the house with one of the work vans on the Sunday. I was able to take all of my clothes, which had to lay on a sheet on the bedroom floor, because we had no furniture.

On the Monday, I went into Colchester Hospital, staying there ten days and staying with Mum for another ten. Our doctor did the final exam, tidied up the remaining couple of stitches and filled in the forms to allow me to get a replacement birth certificate and a new driving licence in the name of Carol Novac.

In the meantime, Mum and Randall had been to the box stores and she had been at our house to receive the furniture that we needed to start with. I moved there on the weekend before I started my new job, taking some time to put my things away. Randall joined me on Sunday, now graduated from the college. That night, we slept together for the first time. Unfortunately, it was only a cuddle and a sleep, as I wasn’t allowed any nooky for a while. On that first Monday in July, we made sure we had locked up and Randall went off to the first day of his probationary period, and I went off to my first day with the BBC.

The first stop was HR to tell Walter that I had completed my medical intervention and would be available from now on. He took me up to see the station manager, leaving me with her to have a long talk about what I had done, and what they wanted me to do. We talked for a couple of hours, with breaks for tea and cake. I was surprised at how much they knew about my work, and what they expected.

I was, as already told, to be starting on weekend mornings from the first weekend in September, along with one of their own presenters, who had been making programs for the shared content. I was introduced to her, Eve Stafford, and she was tasked to get me up to speed with the studio desk here, and at Broadcasting House, in London. What they wanted was me recording a regular show, similar to what I had been presenting from Mildenhall. It was to use the power of my name and voice in East Anglia as part of the shared content in the afternoon. If it was well accepted, they would be part of the evening network programming.

We would do them as ‘Carol and Eve, Mining the Archives’, and had a free hand for the next two months, until we took over mornings. Eve had been making shows from the sixties to the eighties. There was an Anthems station, which worked with post-2000 material, so we had around seventy years of material to choose from.

Over July and August, we made some shows in Chelmsford, but mostly worked in London, going in by train. There was a huge library of music and other things to choose from, and we would pick a year, play the music, talk about the events of the time and add any audio that had been recorded at the time. Otherwise, we did a mash of my two shows and hers. If the first were broadcast weekly, then we had over a year of programs that we could use.

After the first month, we were firm friends with similar likings in music and food, seeing that we had our lunches together. We had also attracted attention from the BBC bosses in London, with our main show being added to the network content, every two weeks. That was planned so that we would have 1999 being broadcast in 2026.

By the time we took over the morning show, we were a team, able to banter on air as we read out any messages and played the music. Our ratings were trending well by the time Christmas came around, and we were asked if we could be part of the Christmas broadcast, as well as presenting the New Year Eve show. In six months, I had managed to be heard nationally.

On the home front, Randall had eased through his probation, with a couple of good comments on his record, and had been promoted to Detective Sergeant in October. We had consummated our partnership and had filled our home with all the things we needed. We had my parents for the odd meal, as well as friends that we had gained in our two jobs.

I learned to cook, with help from Mum, and we didn’t go out for meals as often as we had. Randall was pretty good with looking after the house and garden. Eve and I had enough shows in the can to be able to slow down, and we spent more days in Chelmsford. With us on air on weekends, we had two days off in the week. I would often go to Colchester, sometimes spending time in the family store, especially when our shows were on air, and on loudspeakers in the store.

Marianne Gregory © 2026

Chapter 9

For the Christmas and New Year shows, we had to be in a studio at Broadcast House, in London. We were put up at a very nice hotel across the road, and our partners were allowed to join us. It was an interesting experience, going live over the whole network.

For New Year, we did the show up to eleven, when one of the bigger names took over. The four of us welcomed 2024 and watched the fireworks from a higher floor window. We could see the lightshow and hear midnight strike on Big Ben, followed by something that sounded like a war zone.

It had been an interesting end to the previous year. We had been invited to a lot of parties, being picky in where we went, seeing that we both had a reputation to uphold. One that we couldn’t miss was the end of year bash at a local hotel with Randalls’ colleagues. I met his superiors and some of his fellow detectives. Some were happy to get stonkered, but we kept sober. There was also an end of year party put on by the radio station. That was less alcohol fuelled but no less testosterone driven. Eve and I kept ourselves to ourselves, spending much of the evening with our partners and the station manager and her partner, a local lawyer.

The success of our morning show was something that created more problems. The two of us were expected to be visible around the home counties, while the playing of our special shows had us needed in other places around the country. In the time we had been in the studio, we had completed the ‘Mine the Archives’ shows to continue for another couple of years. Our weekdays became promotional visits to other towns, sometimes with audio recordings of interviews with local celebrities which we could splice into our future shows.

For me, I was also needed to show myself two counties north, having already been known and being heard again. With all our trips, we were taken in a station car, with a sound man as our driver and minder. My own little car had been traded in on a hybrid, which only got to use the motor when the battery was low, or when I went up to Colchester.

I was in Colchester a lot. I had visits to the doctor to monitor my progress, times in the store, even a few spots on the hospital radio and visits to the wards. Work time and my time was often blurred. It was on one of these visits that I had a serious meeting with my family.

So far, except for my working in the repair shop, my involvement had been remote. Dad and my brother had been running the company and had decided that it was as big as it should be. As an owner of a quarter of the business, I had been sent quarterly accounts, and could see that we were doing well. It had been the last dividend that had funded my new car.

The meeting was to discuss offers by two of the big national chains to buy us out and take over the business and staff. The only rebranding at the retail store would be to add the signage that it was part of the group. Well, that’s what they said. The wholesale and repair business would be rebranded as part of the other chain.

The offers were very good and seriously considered. My brother Alexander would be kept on as the manager of the retail outlet, as an executive of the new owners. Mum and Dad could retire and live the rest of their lives in comfort. Dad was still having lung problems and used an inhaler. For me, my share would more than pay off our house.

We batted it around for a couple of hours, but I knew which way we would go. In the end, we all signed the two lots of paperwork and the Nowak / Newman businesses were in the hands of the lawyers and accountants.

It was into the new year before the due procedure had taken place and the money allocated. I went to see our bank and cleared our mortgage, so saving many thousands from what we would have paid if it had gone the full term.

Eve and I kept doing our jobs and Randall was in the thick of his detective work. 2024 moved on, until we realised that we were both coming up for some holidays. We managed to organise two weeks that we would both be off in July, so thought about a wedding for that time. I had given the idea of a church wedding the flick, so we would be marrying in a registry office. The only problem being which one.

We decided on Chelmsford, because it was where the bulk of the guests were based. As far as my side were concerned, it was just my family and a few uncles and aunts. I discussed it with my parents, and they were happy with that arrangement. One oddity was that when told, the station wanted to film it for a news segment, with strong suggestions that a church would look better.

After much soul searching, we agreed, and the church of choice was the Christ Church, not far from the radio station. If we limited our reception, we could also use the British Legion hall next door. It had a stage for a band, a dance floor and could put on a light meal.

We were a couple of months out, so had plenty of time, or so we thought. Randall sent a letter to his father, telling him about the marriage, with the place and the date. A week later, we had a letter back, with instructions to meet him at the Fox and Hounds, in Thurston, for Saturday dinner. Randall was not happy.

“He won’t have me in the house. That’s lovely! Thurston is about as far from Bury on the east, as his home is on the west. I expect that he doesn’t want any of his cronies seeing him with me. If we come home afterwards, it will be the early hours.”

“Are there any markets near there on a Sunday?”

He went off to research, coming back with a grin.

“There’s a regular car boot sale at Woolpit, not far away. I’ve checked, and there’s a pub, the Bull Inn, at Woolpit that does B & B.”

“We can make a weekend of it. I’ll be home around one. If you knock off around four, we should be able to get there on the main roads. We can go around Braintree and it’s only about fifty miles that way. We could come home via Ipswich. Isn’t Stonham close by as well.”

That put him in a better frame of mind, so he rang the number on the letter and left a message. On the Saturday, he took my car while I drove the MG to do my show. I got home after lunch and packed a case for the two of us to stay overnight. I loaded the MG and spent some of the afternoon doing a bit of housework and a lot of getting ready. When he got home, I gave him a cup of tea and a sandwich before he went for a shower and to put on something that showed that he was now successful. It was one of his suits that he sometimes wore to work.

We made good time on the A134, and then the A14, checking into the hotel and freshening up. We backtracked to Thurston, arriving at the Fox and Hounds about ten minutes before the due time. We sat in the bar with a drink until Randall stiffened.

“There’s the two-timing bastard!”

I looked over and saw a woman, about our age, wearing a dress that was hardly there, and too much make-up. Behind her was a florid man who looked out of sorts.

“If she’s his bit on the side, it’s no wonder he looks like he’s at deaths door.”

“But my mother’s still alive!”

“In a care home, love, and unlikely to go home again. Cut him a little bit of slack, he looks like he’s cut a bit for himself.”

That caused him to smile, which was the moment his father saw him. The woman noticed Randall and smiled back, and then saw me. Her hand went to her mouth, and she rushed over.

“My God, Carol Novac. It’s wonderful to meet you! Oh, excuse my excitement, I’ve listened to you for ages.”

“Thank you for being an avid listener. I think that your partner isn’t happy with this.”

“Oh! Old Grumpy Wumpy. He’s hardly ever happy, but he does look after me, if you know what I mean.”

“Have you worked out how many more years it will take before you wear him out?”

She giggled as he finally caught up with her. Randall put out a hand to shake.

“Hello, father. Long time since we’ve been in the same room.”

“It was you who left; I would have been happy to take you into the shop.”

“With a lot of added demands. It was never going to happen. May I introduce my fiancée, Carol Novac. Carol, this is my father, Clive Chivers.”

I held out my hand.

“I’m pleased to meet you, at last. I won’t say that I’ve heard a lot about you, because Randall doesn’t want to say too much about his early days. I believe that there should be a table reserved for us. It’s been a bit of a drive up from Cambridge.”

He didn’t take my hand. He just looked at me and his companion.

“How do you and Briony know each other. Is this a wind-up?”

Briony had a little giggle.

“We just met, Wumpy, and I like her already. Carol was all over the airwaves for several years with her music shows. She’s now with the BBC and I listen to her shows on my little DAB radio. She’s quite famous.”

“Not some gold-digger with her claws in my son, then?”

I looked him in the eyes.

“For your information, Mister Wumpy. My family has operated two big electrical stores in Colchester, which we have just sold to two national companies. I have a good job with the BBC, who actually want to film our wedding for a spot on the national news. Your son is now a well-respected Detective Sergeant in Chelmsford. We came here with an olive branch. Now, we take our seats and be polite to each other, or else we’ll be going somewhere else for our dinner.”

He looked shocked that a mere woman would call him out.

“All right, I’ll see which table we have.”

He went over to the barman to get the table. Briony grinned.

“I think it’s time that us girls freshen up.”

I followed her to the one haven in a public place. Inside, she put her bag on the shelf and turned to me.

“I have to apologise for his ways, Carol. He thinks that he’s the lord of all he surveys and that everyone will kowtow to his bullying. I’ve been with him for a couple of years but haven’t been able to get him to the altar.”

“Probably because he has a fear of breaking the law. His wife is still alive, even if she is in an aged care home with advanced dementia. The law doesn’t look kindly on bigamists.”

Her eyes went big.

“So that’s the situation, is it. I drove us here and have the keys. After the meal, I’ll be taking my leave and driving home, to clear out my wardrobe and as much of his portable wealth as I can. He’ll have to get a cab, that will cost a bomb from here.”

“Don’t overdo it, Briony. Calm down and work out how you can use this to your advantage. Talk to some of his mates, he looks as if his profile is important. You may be able to get something to stay quiet, an apartment and your own car, perhaps.”

She grinned.

“Love it! You really are the best!”

We refreshed our lipstick and went back to join the two men at the table. Randall stood to help me sit, but his father just glowered, so Randall helped Briony with her chair. She gave him a big smile and a thank you.

The meal was all right, with an undertone of tension. Briony and I kept up a light-hearted conversation, including Randall, who looked shocked when Briony said that she would be happy to be his stepmother. He looked at me and I shook my head slightly. His father calmed down after he realised that we weren’t after his money, just his attendance at our wedding, where he would be one of the minor players. I could see that it rankled him, not being top dog.

During dessert, Randall told him that he had visited his mother, and I said that she had a minute of lucidity before losing it during my last visit. His father looked sharply at Briony, who gave him a knowing smile. He seemed to shrink after that, his games exposed. I think that he had realised that the balance of power had shifted.

When we finished, Briony gave me and Randall a hug.

“I’m so glad that I’ve met you. I may pop down to give you a visit when I get my own car.”

His father looked like a different person to the one who had arrived. He did shake our hands but avoided looking directly at us. We waved them off as Briony drove the Bentley away, giving me a final wave. When they were out of sight, Randall held me tight and kissed me.

“I had been afraid of this meeting, but, in the end, I enjoyed it. What did you and Briony talk about in the loo?”

“She didn’t know that he wasn’t able to get married, so I told her where your mother is. She was about to take the car and clean him out, but I persuaded her that a little pressure on his pride may have better results.”

“It was like looking at a pricked balloon. He means nothing to me, now. Come, let’s go and see how comfy our bed is.”

“We’ll have to settle up, first. Your father has gone, and the account is still on the table.”

He was laughing so much that I had to drive us to the hotel. The bed was very good, and he was especially virile that night. The next day, we had an early breakfast and were at the boot sale not long after the gate was opened. I picked up a couple of knock-off articles of make-up. For the price, they were good for an emergency, and to be kept in my car. We stopped off at Stonham on our way and Randall picked up some MG parts that he would be able to put in the garage.

We arrived home in the late afternoon and went to the Moulsham for a meal after we had put our used clothes in the hamper. We had enjoyed the day; it had been good to get away and his father didn’t loom in the background any longer. Things moved towards our wedding day, and I was caught up in the tide of femininity that swirled around me. I was expected to look beautiful, act demurely, be gracious to all and sundry, and, above all, look as if I was really the star radio presenter for the report in the papers.

In the end, it was a lovely summer day, the church was looking good, if a bit modern for my mothers’ taste. I was in a hired gown, with Eve as my only bridesmaid. Her husband stood beside Randall, so the photos could be used easily for station publicity. Clive and Briony attended, with Briony looking more like a lady of breeding and less like a call girl. She confided that they had come down in her new Mercedes.

We had ten days in the English Riviera, Torquay. I know, not the exotic Riviera, but it was pleasant and relaxing. When we were back in harness, I sent in two applications for passports, mine now in my married name of Carol Chivers. For the rest of the year, I was doing the weekend mornings and the two of us did visits into northern England, where our special programs had been getting good comments.

In the festive season, the two of us were called on to repeat our previous involvement in the Christmas and New Year Eve shows. This time, the four of us took a taxi to an outside broadcast point on Blackfriars Bridge, where we had a view of the fireworks from Waterloo Bridge to Wapping. It was like being inside an artillery battle. We hosted until nearly one in the morning.

It was now a couple of years past the worst of the pandemic. The majority of the dead had been laid to rest and existed only in memories, with more to come from those who had survived, but only just. My father was one of those, in March. The funeral was down on the south coast, where my parents had spent their last months. Mum now had an apartment with a sea view and had made friends with a group of card playing ladies, so had decided that this was where she would stay.

Randall and I were at the point where things were just cruising. My work with the BBC was regular and, to me, becoming almost boring without the excitement that earlier years had generated. He was working steadily and knew that any promotion would be years away. It was in this period of introspection that, in April, the Supreme Court ruling threw a whole lorry load of crap into the big fan.

The decision to rule that your sex is the one assigned at birth was a shock to most people. Though it wouldn’t stop people, like me, getting reassigned, it made our lives so much harder. The radio station had a simple solution to the ruling, they just repainted the two toilet doors, with one now, ‘M-Unisex’, and the other, ‘F-Unisex’.

It made us both start to think about other avenues, and other places. We had a house that was fully paid for and appreciating. We had our holidays coming due in a few months and had a serious discussion. Randall wanted to move somewhere that would appreciate his expertise, and I didn’t mind where we went, as I would be happy to be the housewife.

We looked on-line for advertisements for trained police. There were several in America, which Randall discounted, because he said that he had a conscience. There were a few from Australia which made us think. We wanted to get away from a big city, in a country that spoke English, and drove on the left side of the road, as Randall wanted to keep the MG.

We delved deeper, eliminating Queensland because of the heat, the cyclones and the enormous rainfall. South Australia and Western Australia were out because of the horrendous summer heat. It came down to somewhere in New South Wales, preferably in the south. We both took a day off and attended a meeting with a specialist from the NSW police, in Australia House.

We came away in a new frame of mind. Randall would get help to move, we would be able to live in a flat while he underwent training in the Police Academy in Goulburn. I was given details about upgrading my electrician credentials on-line through a training organisation in Sydney, with a week with an electrician to sign me off.

He had a list of places where trained officers were needed, and there was a position for a Detective Sergeant in Nowra. It’s a town, well south of Sydney, almost the same distance to Canberra. He waxed lyrical about the places south of Nowra, with several holiday spots inside of a hundred and fifty miles. When we asked how long that would take us, he told us that we should be able to go the whole distance inside a couple of hours, which we found hard to believe.

He remarked that Randalls’ experience in Mildenhall was an advantage, as there was an airbase south of the town, the oddly named HMAS Albatross. We told him our holiday dates, and he got back to us with an itinerary inside a week. We would be landing in Canberra, after arriving through customs at Melbourne. A hire car was booked for us with a strip map to lead us to Goulburn, to talk to the officers at the NSW Police Academy.

Then, we would go to Nowra to talk to the officer in charge there. We were told that we would probably know what the result would be before we left Nowra. After that, we had a choice. Either drive up to Sydney for the flight back, or, as he suggested strongly, drive down the south coast and into Victoria to take our flight back from Melbourne. A map would be provided, with a list of places to stay on the way. If Randall was accepted, his costs would be partly reimbursed when he had been in the job for six months.

Back at home, we researched houses in the area, staggered that we could buy a nearly new three, or four, bedroom home with two bathrooms on a sizeable block for the money that we would get for our own house.

When we flew over, we stopped overnight in Canberra, went to Goulburn on the Tuesday for the interview and tour of the Academy. With Randalls’ experience, his main thing would be to study the vagaries of the local laws. On Friday, we went to Nowra and looked around the town over the weekend, staying at a hotel across from the police station.

We even looked at a couple of houses that were having open inspections. I was amazed at what we would be able to get with what we would have. With the exchange rate, their million-dollar houses equated to around half a million pounds, which was a little less that our own house was now worth. We looked at one with seven bedrooms, three toilets and a pool in that price range, on a plot twice the size of ours. On the Monday, we went to see the officer in charge. After that, we went south, stopping at a few places along the way, arriving in Melbourne on Friday.

We had seen a lot, learned a lot, and had a fair appreciation of the changes that we would go through if Randall accepted the position. One thing that was a big plus, for him, was that he would be able to bring the MG, as it was considered a classic here, and even had cheaper registration for older cars as long as he joined a club.

We arrived home and spent a lot of the rest of our holiday time talking, looking at the pictures we had taken, and wondering if Randall would get an official request to join the police in Nowra, although the officer in charge had been very positive. We went back to work, telling everyone that we had a lovely holiday, overseas, and were waiting to put a photo album together.

In September, we had a registered package with the official offer of employment. By that time, we had made up our minds. The job would start in Goulburn, with the January induction, for a three-month upgrading course. We both gave our notices the next week, to finish in the beginning of October.

The house went on the market, we collected all of our various accounts into a new one with an Australian bank with a branch in London. In December, I flew to Australia, into Sydney, and getting the shuttle bus to Nowra, with a room booked at the same hotel we had stayed in. Within a week, I had found a two-storey house on a good size plot, with four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a garage for two cars, and a pool. It wasn’t far from the CBD and looked out over the Shoalhaven River. I paid the deposit, and the bank gave me a mortgage on it, with our own money earning interest.

Randall attended his mothers’ funeral and then joined me for Christmas, and I picked him up at Sydney in the car I had bought, somewhat newer than my old hybrid. Our furniture, extra possessions, and the MG were in a container heading our way. Randall had sold my hybrid to a dealer the day before he flew out.

In the three months that he was in Goulburn, I explored Nowra and found that the main places to buy electricals were from big chain stores. I completed my papers to be a registered electrician and looked around for a site where I could open up a shop, selling electrical goods to the newer residents of this thriving place. By Easter, Randall was working out of the Nowra Police Station, and I had opened up Newmans of Nowra, operating out of a leased commercial property not far away, with a school-leaver manning the phones and offering a personal service for your TV and electricals. I had only a small range but had computer links to show more. I had aimed at the most popular price range for new householders and guaranteed installation.

I had placed regular adverts in the local paper, as well as on the community radio. By the end of the year, we were doing very nicely. The rest of our things had arrived, and the MG was now used to see the countryside. It sat beside my own MG; a Chinese made hatchback. We had made the biggest move and didn’t regret it. On top of that, I was now a volunteer at the community station, doing a half-hour morning show called ‘Anything Goes with Carol’, sponsored by Newmans of Nowra.

Mum came to live with us before the next Christmas, and we still had a room for Briony when she visited us, spending some of her husbands’ money. Clive was unable to fly, due to a myriad of ailments brought about by too much drink and not enough vegetables. Somehow, I don’t think she cared.

They say that a change is as good as a rest. In our case, we had moved twice, both times improving our life. The first time improved our jobs, but the second improved the quality of our lives, in a near-new house, with a pool that we used quite often, and an entertaining area which was a second home for a lot of the police force.

I had gone from being a national celebrity, with a small circle of friends, to being just a popular person within a self-contained town, with a lot of friends. With so many of them in the police, we ‘Ain’t Misbehaving.’

Marianne Gregory © 2026

Keep an eye out for ‘Great Southern Land’ when I finish it