This short story was written by & © 2024 Shiraz Turvey
 
John Farmer was back at home on England's East Coast on a regular four week break from his offshore work. At home he was a very private person who probably knew the home delivery drivers better than his neighbours.

He'd chosen this town carefully, it was on two train lines and barely an hour from London so was easily classed as a commuter hell-hole that was deadly quiet after 9am during the week. It also meant he could escape early or late without difficulty and hide in plain sight on the trains, whilst at home he almost never needed to deal with anyone apart from those bearing packages, groceries and hot meals.

John wasn't actually in hiding but didn't want to have to explain to anyone why he was at home for a month, then missing for a month, whilst on a regular rotating schedule. Having said that, it would also be difficult for anyone to connect his very private home life with his employment as he used a false name at work and only the company accountant, somewhere in Europe, knew where to send his pay.

Despite death and taxes being only two certainties in life, John was apparently on good terms with the UK’s infamous HMRC. Naturally you only hear from the Tax officials when something was wrong but John was in the habit of submitting his returns on time every year.

That had been his main task when he'd arrived home ten days earlier, a few days into December. He was, according to his tax affairs, a self-employed media production agent. One bonus, because he was out of the country at least six months a year, meant that his tax bill was effectively nil. It did, however, mean that he had to keep every ferry ticket as proof of his international travels.

In reality, John was a popular drive-time jock on a floating radio station, anchored in the North Sea between England and Germany, but outside of the jurisdiction of every nearby nation. That job came out of a conversation in a pub a few years earlier when he didn't realise that radio pirates still existed; one of the existing DJs was retiring from the high seas with a job offer from the BBC, so had offered to help find a replacement.

Until that fateful meeting John had been a librarian but was a regular at record fairs – his musical knowledge was fantastic but he was never asked to join a local quiz team. As his friend had suggested. “John, you have a great face for radio and your brain is going to waste. This job will let you experiment with your character to find where you’re comfortable. One thing though, you’ll never be an Emperor Rosko, your voice is too high?”

Captain Risko had been born that day, initially rather tongue in cheek but John now considered he was playing homage to the famous jocks of the sixties. Nearly four years since his trial period, Risko was an established drive-time presenter.

It was ten days before Christmas so John had about a fortnight before he was expected to make the journey back to the ship that hosted Radio Plasar in international waters. He was due aboard on New Years Eve and would take over the drive-time show the following day.

As a sideline for the past year, partly to generate additional income and partly to occupy his time, John had developed a separate character. Although he wasn't allowed to work for another media company during his time off, that hadn’t stopped him from trying to earn some extra whilst hopefully keeping within the rules. To reduce his exposure he had been selling these shows to the same station that he worked for. The pay wasn’t fantastic but a batch of thirty three hour shows was worth nearly a thousand quid. He had managed to get a bank account as Joannie Jet and had registered a company in that name to give his identity credence.

Joannie’s recorded slots coincided when John was on the ship and she alternated the late night show with another female pre-recorded jock, Neon Mandy, who concentrated on American Rock, whereas Joannie went for UK and European albums of the sixties to the eighties.

Research, apparently, had proven that a late night female jock was great for the listener numbers and therefore good for advertising income.

With the tax affairs straightened out, and lunch dealt with, John decided it was time to record the next of his late night programmes.

Outside sleet was hitting the windows. He'd invested in triple glazing throughout and had heavy lined floor to ceiling curtains that acted nicely as acoustic baffles. The added privacy that came from these curtains was a bonus.

John took himself upstairs to shower, pamper and get into character - ready to start Joannie's recording session. All possible interruptions were disabled.

She arrived in the kitchen nearly an hour later, but first poured a glass of red before taking herself into the former tiny dining room that had become a fully equipped radio studio. From here she could go out live to almost any station in the country but right now just wanted to record a couple of three hour shows. In practice it wouldn't take three hours to make the show thanks to a facility known as Voice Tracking. All Joannie needed to do was to record her own words between the tracks, then leave gaps for promotional messages and jingles. The technology made this simple but she still had to choose the tracks and play them in a sensible order.

By seven in the evening she had three more shows saved. She'd ordered a curry after the second show and ate it in the kitchen with another glass of wine. Two more shows were down before bed.

The following morning it was Joannie who arrived in the kitchen. It was Saturday so she was expecting a large grocery delivery, including a turkey leg for the freezer, but first went to work on another couple of shows. She made lunch once the groceries had been stowed away before returning to her studio.

Joannie needed at least twenty two shows to cover the four weeks, but tried to have a few extra pre-recorded in case she was unwell or indisposed. No-one on the ship needed to know where these shows came from as they were just downloaded to the ship from the cloud after being checked back at the HQ - wherever that was.

By Sunday Joannie had fifteen shows in the bag although there was still another fortnight to finish off the batch. She started cooking dinner then fired up her laptop to upload the files already finished, but there was an email waiting in one account.

Urgent
Contact HQ

It was timed a few hours earlier. John retrieved a mobile phone that existed for only this purpose and sent a text.

Message received. What is the problem?

The reply took a minute.

We need you in Groningen in 2 days. Usual time.

Why?

Medical issue. You will be compensated.

Understood.

Sometimes it was fortunate that John had no real family, or that he didn't really care too much for the festivities, but he did care about having time off. At this rate he would be heading out just over 2 weeks early so would be out there until the end of January unless something else happened.

In the past he had been unable to either join the ship, or get off it, due to winter storms or technical trouble with the tender, but this would be the first time he'd been called out there 2 weeks early.

In an ideal world there would be a WhatsApp group or online forum where the DJs and ship's crew could message each other but as their activities were potentially illegal the best approach was that all messages went through HQ.

Joannie recorded two more shows after booking Monday night's ferry crossing and a ticket for Tuesday's train ride across the Netherlands.

It was well past midnight when she made it to bed. On Monday she went through her regular checks to cancel or divert any deliveries and transferred as much food as possible to the freezer.

Because of the way the rota worked, John had never done Christmas on the ship but was usually there for New Year. He knew nothing of the protocol, except that it was apparently always a dry ship. That called for a message.

I've never been on the ship at Xmas. Any particular suggestions?

Bring a party frock.

Frock?

We'll allow you two bags of clothes this time Joannie.

Joannie was convinced she had been careful, using separate phones and email addresses, to handle her shows on Radio Plasar? What were her options? Her travel was already booked as John Farmer and that was the name in the passport - legally Joannie didn't yet exist, beyond a single cash account on a virtual bank and an entry at Companies House.

John guessed he hadn’t been sacked, but it was clear that Joannie was expected. First thought was that John would travel but that meant carrying two sets of clothes, was this what the message referred to? She finished packing but somehow restricted herself to just the one bag of clothes, plus a shoulder bag. There was laundry on board but Joannie realised quickly she'd need to wash her own delicates by hand so packed a suitable detergent alongside the necessaries.

The worst aspect about travelling was how to spend the time. The ferry didn't sail until 11pm but there was little point arriving in Harwich before 8.30pm as you couldn't board it. That left enough time to leave after an early evening meal, and pray that the railways were behaving that day. The alternative was to travel early, just in case, but need to be fed and have somewhere to wait .... Joannie had done this often enough that she cooked a good meal for lunch and then made a cold meal for the evening that she could eat at home or on the train.

That left enough time to finalise the house. Almost as an afterthought she called her GP to ask for an appointment on the first of Feb, but discovered they didn't book more than a week ahead. So, Joannie wrote a letter and asked if she could see her GP upon her return.

Once all the relevant decisions had been made, it was definitely Joannie who exited the house towing her case when the cab pulled up outside, albeit without any make-up. She rode in silence to the station and tipped the driver as usual. Her GP letter was dropped into a mailbox before boarding the train towards the port.

The previous twenty four hours had been a blur, Joannie had been content to live a double life and hadn't actively considered transitioning, but was that now a certainty? Certainly she'd been out as Joannie often enough not to be overly self-concious but under normal circumstances she wouldn't be planning to meet anyone who also knew John.

The train ride wasn't an issue and gave Joannie the time to fix her face. As she left the train in Harwich she rode the escalator directly up to the departure lounge to check in. The check-in was staffed by two young ladies John had met before.

"Good evening, can we see you passport and scan your booking code please?"

Joannie did as asked. "Ah, I see, Ms Farmer. Are you planning to update your documents soon?"

"Yes."

"Okay, enjoy your voyage."

She was handed her boarding confirmation and found that her cabin had been upgraded, but wasn't going to worry about that. She settled into her cabin and climbed into her bunk.

---

There was an early call the following day as the ship approached the Dutch berth. Joannie had breakfast on board then had to pass passport control.

"Please obtain new documents, Miss Farmer."

"Yes, Sir."

With that formality she rode the tram into Rotterdam Centraal station and found the Groningen service.

A few hours later she arrived at the dock where the usual tender captain was waiting.

"I have a letter for you."

She put the envelope in her bag then stowed herself and her bags in the cabin. The next few hours on the open sea in a small vessel wouldn't be good on the stomach or the head.

It was approaching 4pm as they came alongside the former fishing vessel that hosted Radio Plasar. Daylight had already gone but thankfully the seas were relatively calm that evening. A hook was slung over to take her case whilst Joannie was left to climb the ladder. An assortment of cargo, provisions and essentials would follow her onto the vessel.

Her first task was to report to the duty station manager, or whoever was in charge of the boat. She knew where the office was and knocked.

"Ah, John ...?"

"I guess it's Joannie now, Pete."

"That's what I'd been told but I wasn't expecting you to look so good?"

"I'll take that as a compliment. Now, what the hell is going on?"

"Sit down, I guess you still take your coffee black?"

"Some things won't change, Pete."

The coffee was poured and Joannie tried to relax. Pete’s attitude wasn’t helping.

“Have you received a letter from the boss?”

“I was given one in Groningen, oh, it’s still in my bag. Do I need to read it first?”

“No, but I’m told it includes your new contract.”

“Which is, Pete?”

“I don’t know the details, Joannie, but there are some schedule changes.”

“So I’m not being sacked?”

“No, Joannie. But it’s lovely to finally meet you in person.”

“Piss off Pete, you know me?”

“No I don’t, nor did anyone else. Unfortunately this means that the boss is now checking absolutely everyone onboard in case they are hiding something major.”

“Will I be blamed?”

“Unlikely, he really likes your night shows. That’s why he actually wants Joannie out here.”

“To do the shows live?”

“Yes, but we’ll come to that. Our other drive-time jock has suspected glandular fever and went back on the same tender that you arrived on. We have the new breakfast girl handling it but can you join her at five and do a double act?”

“Oh, okay.”

“She’ll take over permanently, and solo, on New Years Day once you have trained her.”

“So I’m not presenting as Captain Risko, Pete?”

“No, as Joannie Jet.”

“Okay.”

“I didn’t detect any argument?

“I’ve done some soul searching recently, Pete.”

“Fair enough. Get yourself to your cabin and then to Studio 1 as soon as you can.”

Joannie downed her coffee and picked up her bags.

The cabin had been cleaned better than usual, perhaps even sanitized, but it didn’t look like the other drive-time presenter would be coming back. She freshened up, retouched her face paint and made her way down to the main studio. Gillian, who John had only met briefly before, was just finishing a link so Joannie waited. When the next track started Joannie could make her way in and get herself seated.

“Joannie?”

“That’s me.”

“Great, thanks for agreeing to help. I guess you know what you’re doing?”

Joannie couldn’t be certain that Gillian had been told too much as most information was on a need-to-know basis.

“Yes, I’ve had a few years experience. Let’s see your show plan?”

“Sorry, I’m winging it as I only had an hour’s warning to prepare and I spent most of that time in the loo!”

“Tummy trouble?”

“No, wrong time of the month. You don’t suffer too much?”

“Thankfully no, okay we have two mins before the track ends, when was your last advert block?”

“I’ve done two in the past hour.”

“Let’s go straight into adverts whilst I find the travel alerts which we’ll do after the next track. It’s nearly the top of the hour so drop a station ident in there but don’t open the mic.”

“Okay, but what travel alerts?”

Joannie powered up a PC at the back of the studio before selecting a few CDs to play. A few minutes later she had the main UK travel alerts, then obtained the major mainland European ones.

“Gill, I’ll handle the traffic and you handle everything else?”

“Sure, but you’ll help?”

“Of course, but you need to do this yourself in about two weeks!”

Joannie pulled on her headphones and waited for the adverts, station ident and Gill’s last track to finally finish so Joannie could play the traffic jingle before reaching over and opening the guest mic, when Gilly didn’t!

“Good evening Europe, this is Joannie Jet with the travel news wherever you may be. Starting with England, the M25 is once again stuffed at Dartford, avoid if you can, whilst the trains in Scotland are on strike today. The A1 from Calais to Paris is very busy with several broken down heavy goods vehicles. That’s having a knock on effect around Arras and Lille, so expect slow traffic in southern Belgium as well. Meanwhile freezing weather is causing trouble around Dusseldorf and Luxembourg. Stay safe out there please.”

Joannie closed the fader on the guest mike as she played a jingle and launched an old track from CD, Radar Love by Golden Earring.

She slipped her headphones off. “I like to play a travel related track after the traffic bulletin.”

“Yeah, that Captain Risko used to do the same?”

“It’s quite common on stations where the jocks have freedom to choose their own tracks.”

“I suppose so, what next?”

“Let’s sketch out the rest of the show, we have just under two hours to go.“

---

Joannie hadn’t planned to be heavily involved in her old show on the day she was back on the ship, and certainly not as a guest! Gillian hadn’t performed badly but had already done a three hour early show before being parachuted into a slot she knew next-to-nothing about. What was remarkable that Gillian still seemed unaware that Joannie was indeed the former Captain Risko.

The handover to the evening jock wasn’t as easy as it was obvious that the guy did indeed know what had transpired. John had never liked the guy but normally they were on opposite crews.

She went to the galley to grab some food, having eaten nothing since breakfast on the ‘Stena Britannica’. It seemed a few folk there had heard the news but no-one said anything derogatory – yet. The food on board rarely changed and today there was the usual selection of hot and lukewarm, including the salads,

Back in her cabin Joannie finally opened the letter that had been in her bag for many hours.

 

Dear Joannie,
 
As you will know, we don’t like being taken for a ride and you unfortunately have indeed tried to defraud us using two identities. That would normally mean the end of your career with us, and that option remains on the table.
 
Heavily in your favour are the listener figures for your pre-recorded overnight show. What you may not be aware of is that our station is also now carried around the world by some satellite operators and will soon have a web presence. As your show was recorded in stereo it was also available on many channels in stereo, giving you a global audience. One of the best on the station, in fact.
 
But, something has to go. As of now you are solely responsible for the Joannie Jet overnight album service but you will now do it live from the studio. One night a week can come from your three hour pre-records, but you will need to edit them or make a new batch?
 
Your new four hour show, eleven through to three, starts on New Years Day. For this we’ll give you a 20% increase on your basic wage but you’ll receive nothing for your recent uploads. For this extended stay you’ll get a 40% bonus.
 
HQ

Joannie looked at the additional paperwork, the new terms were there but this was a completely new contract and not an amendment : she was required to agree to another two years on the station, starting first of January. The reality now was that if Joannie didn’t agree to do these new shows then she would almost certainly be sacked for breach of contract.

What hadn’t been mentioned was the 5% annual pay rise that would take effect from the New Year, on top of her increment, so she wouldn’t be badly off despite losing her sideline. She signed the top copy and popped it into the envelope provided. Joannie took a walk back to Pete’s office, finding him there.

“You did a good job with Gilly, Joannie. She was out of her depth but I had little choice today.”

“She has only even done breakfast as a live show, so had no idea. In a week she’ll be doing most if it by herself.”

“It was a little odd knowing you were in there but hearing Joannie’s voice?”

“Pete, I was there!”

“Yeah, but previously Risko was there with John’s voice and Joannie was this lovely lady I’d never met.”

“Okay, okay. Here’s the contract.” She handed over the envelope.

“Cheers, I’ll send that back with the next tender. I hope HQ wasn’t too hard on you?”

“Under the circumstances, Pete, it could have been worse.”

“Indeed.”

“The letter hinted at some major upgrades?”

“The studios will be updated but we’ll be sending a fully stereo feed up to the satellite instead of a mono feed, it’s to do with how the studios were wired. The satellite feed has been on test for a few weeks but it launches on New Years Day. You have the first show.”

“My show is from eleven pm on the first?”

“No, you get the final hour on New Years Eve and then the first three hours of New Year’’s Day.”

“So no party for me?”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t dress up? Oh, there will be a live video feed that night, so I suggest you do dress up.”

“Damn, why wasn’t I told?”

“Because it hadn’t been agreed whether you would be put off the ship on the thirty-first or be offered a new contract. That argument was settled after you had already left home.”

“I might need to order something.”

“That’s difficult.”

“I’m aware, but I only brought one party frock and I’ll be wearing that at Christmas. I’ll need a few long black frocks for my shows, and candles.”

“No to candles, not real ones …. as for fake I’ll see what I can do. Look, check what stores are in Groningen and we’ll have someone buy them and package for the tender crossing. It’ll come out of you next payslip.”

“No, this is a necessary ship expense.”

“How come?”

“Nobody was open with me or I could have sorted this before I left? Instead I’m being told to produce a new extended show, with a New Years Eve webcam, and I won’t be home until the end of the next month? HQ owe me this one.”

“Okay, you can have a hundred and fifty Euros.”

Joannie laughed. “Two hundred.”

“Okay, let me know in the morning what you are after.”

---

Nearly a week later and Joannie had just finished the latest Drive Time show with Gillian when she was called to see Pete.

“Your frocks are here, I damn well hope you got your sizing right?”

“I won’t be trying them on in here!”

“It’s the Christmas party tonight, I hope you’ll be dressing up?”

“Probably, I guess everyone knows now?”

“Gillian came to me after yesterday’s show and asked me outright. She’d never met John except in passing so couldn’t be certain, but it looks like too many had told her so she felt she had to ask me directly. She doesn’t have a problem, by the way, as she loves your presentation style.”

“I didn’t expect an easy ride. Anyway, Pete, Merry Christmas.”

“Sure, may all your wishes come true.”

“I’m a little too old to believe that!”

Joannie spent an hour getting herself ready but was greeted by a room of semi-intoxicated guys who had definitely not made an effort. Gilly was in a long skirt and looked out of place, she made a bee-line for Joannie.

“This is awful.”

“I agree, back to my cabin?”

“Do you have something to drink?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t forget I’m still doing the breakfast show, Joannie?”

“It’s non alcoholic wine!”

Joannie joined Gillian in the studio the following morning so Joannie could talk about her new show and, with Pete’s agreement, the new stereo service. Pete dropped a note into the studio shortly after the first on-air chat between the girls.

“Well folks, many thanks for the great comments on our facebook page! I’m really looking forward to the new shows. I’m told I’ll be able to see your messages in the studio as well.”

Studio 2 was out of commission two days later for upgrading and that took longer than planned, of course. Just a few days before New Year the upgrade team started on Studio 1 but managed this in one day, before finishing with the off-line production studio. By New Years Eve everything was up and running, and Gillian was now solo on the Drive Time show, although she was off the ship that morning for a family visit ashore.

“I’ll miss you Joannie!”

“I’ll still be here when you get back!”

They hugged and Gilly gave Joannie a full kiss. “You need to make your resolution!”

“Yes, Gillian, later.”

Joannie deliberately under-dressed during the day but had to handle all of her usual crew as they arrived later on NYE, not all of whom were ready for the new female DJ. Pete got them all together in the mess to make an announcement.

“HQ would like to remind you that our anti-discriminatory policy applies, regardless, and that all of you signed it when joining the ship for the first time. If you have trouble with that then you are free to terminate your contract.”

There was some mumbling but no-one wanted to end their career like that. Pete and Joannie left the mess before something inappropriate was said.

“Thanks Pete, shame it had to be said?”

“Indeed, but the tender master contacted me by radio to let me know they weren’t happy. I had no choice really, as my job would otherwise be on the line. I suggest you knock them down tonight with the music?”

“Understood. I had best get some food then make myself desirable?”

“On a ship with almost an all male crew?”

“Yes!”

Joannie ate alone in the mess before heading back to her cabin to get herself ready, after a few hours nap. She set an alarm.

At ten that night she made her way to Studio 2, which would be her home. She stopped at the mess and looked in but it was a pointless effort, wasted on the occupants: Joannie was in one of the new frocks and it was a contoured, fit. She swept her long hem and continued to the studio.

Two flickering LED candles were either side of the mixing desk and a new playout computer with thirty thousand tracks greeted her. She’d also been to the extensive record library earlier and had pulled a dozen 12” records to play during her show, these went onto the guest chair.

Finally, at eleven that night, with her first track cued, Joannie opened the microphone.

“Well, hello and good evening everyone. This is Joannie Jet live on Radio Plasar for the overnight album show. Settle down for the next four hours as we make our New Year resolutions together.”

She played “Happy New Year” by ABBA but lined up “Musical Box” by Genesis to follow after her next link.

“I’ll take a look at your messages in a while but please let me know your resolutions. I suppose I should say what mine are? Well, two weeks ago I couldn’t have predicted that I would be doing this show here tonight so I guess I must remember that you can’t take anything for granted, but whatever I do, I must be honest to myself and others. Over to you, here’s Musical Box.”

That track gave Joannie ten minutes to start looking at the messages and to plan a three track segue as the music was more important than chat. She’d need to drop a few adverts in, but had some flexibility.

It seemed that some of the listeners had found the studio video feed so Joannie turned to the camera and sent a kiss to those watching. The online response was nearly instant.

After a few more tracks Joannie opened the mic.

“Many thanks for the lovely comments and it’s clear how many have been watching me in the studio. Now settle back as we play a few more tracks before midnight. I have one last resolution, to grab opportunities and to run with them. Believe in yourself. Happy New Year.”
 
 

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Now available on Kindle and in paperback as a 24k word extended story.
Kindle and in paperback

 

Tammyverse Book 11 is now available on Kindle.