I arrived at Dingley Dell Radio Network rather earlier than usual,to make satisfactory preparations for my show ,and the potentially daunting interview with Dudley Forepiece,author and raconteur of this elven parish. In the hour which I had to spare before he arrived, I sorted all my music into order, had my show notes on one side and my "interview" notes on the other. At two hours of the cuckoo clock,I faded in my opening music and promo, said my welcoming words and "Razmattaz' was off and running. I knew that Dudley would arrive sometime in the middle of my show,and I would have to keep the show moving while he settled in. No easy task,when he was a demanding, self concerned elven toerag,and the last thing I wanted was for nerves to make me make some basic error on the desk. The show was flowing smoothly.I had played tracks from elven crooners,big band noises, some 20th century pop combos ,and delivered my "Poem of the Week". Dreelie Firethorn put his tousled goblin head round the door to wish me luck,when from behind him, Jiminy Jinks gave me the thumbs up that Dudley had arrived. To be honest I could hear him in the background before I saw him. A loud jangly voice,with a myriad of high and low tones,which seemed to reverberate around the Station. Jiminy bowed a low cheeky bow as Dudley flounced into Studio One.Dudley was not tall,but in his pink and white leather doublet,with matching cerise hose, he was certainly not a figure one could ignore .He had finely sculpted elven features,but rather too sharp a classical nose, and a shock of black swept back hair . I could feel his black piercing eyes take in my tiny frame,and could sense already that he could sweep away any confidence I might have pretended to have,with one sarcastic blow from his stock of razor sharp witticisms.
"Dudley, this is Amarantha. Amarantha,this is Dudley."announced Jiminy, before clicking his 2 inch heels together,and leaving me with his wickedest smile.
I signalled graciously to Dudley to occupy the best seat in the house,while I announced a further
track, and that Dudley Forepiece was in the building.
The next piece of music was a particular favourite of mine by an elven crooner of the early twentieth century, Alocantor Bing.He was to sing " All alone,in the pale moonlight",and I explained to my listeners , before he began,that this had been a particular favourite of my elven mother.Imagine my surprise, as the first few bars rang out,to see tears welling up in the eyes of Dudley Forepiece. It is a very moving song,but I had not put Dudley down to be the sentimental type.The song drifted away in its last moments,and opening both microphones, I welcomed Dudley to my programme.
He looked straight at me,his pink lacy hankie still dabbing at his eyes, and said, "Hello everyone,and thank you so much ,Amarantha, for playing a piece of music that means so much to me too. My own dear mother loved to listen to Alacantor on her little woodland turntable, and that was the song which was dearest to her heart."
I was dumbfounded. Was this just outrageously good fortune ? Had I managed,unwittingly,to pave the way for an interview with Dudley,that might just pass without incident or insult ? I had no time to consider further the whys or wherefores, it was time to begin.
"Yes, Dudley," I replied. "Alicantor Bing was one of our finest tenors."
At that Dudley came in again to put forth his critique of the Bing Back Catalogue,clearly lost in a sea of memories and sentimentality. The interview for him had clearly begun.
"And you,Dudley,are one of our finest writers of romantic fiction. How did it all begin?" I asked.
Off he went again,needing nothing in the way of prompting to explain his raison d'etre. And so the interview went on. All I had to do was drop in a small cathartic comment,and off he went, baring his writer's soul, and fulfilling all those answers to all those questions that my listeners might have wanted to ask. Nay verily, he went off at such a tangent on occasion, that he might well have been vaccinated with the proverbial woodland turntable needle.
Twenty three minutes later, we had covered boyhood,manhood, past loves and future dreams, old parchments, and tomorrow's yet to be published scripts. He was still smiling, his hankie was still dabbing some wet glint in his eye, and I was still holding my own with this "enfant terrible" of the romantic fiction world.
"Thank you ,Dudley Forepiece,for being my guest today," I said." We will all be awaiting Dudley's latest offering," Fast Flows the Elven Tide",on sale in Dingley Dell's good mercantiles tomorrow. "
And now for our final track from Alicantor Bing - Farewell, my elven youth".
I pushed the fader to go,and Alicantor's tenor voice filled the studio. I was just about to thank Dudley for what had been a mesmorising interview, when he rushed forward out of his seat,grabbed my left hand and with a final Forepiece flourish, proceeded to cover my fingers with kisses. The urge to pull away was great,but I had got this far with Dudley without an unkind word, and I was reluctant to mar the euphoric haze.
Before any words could leave my lips,though, the great man stopped me with a finger to his lips.
"Thank you,dear Ms. Willow, for a wonderful afternoon. How did you know my favourite singer was the Mighty Bing ?"
Thankfully I did not have to make up an answer to that question, for the studio door opened, and Jiminy Jinks,clearly stunned into disbelief, announced that Dudley's large motor carriage had arrived.
Dudley Forepiece strode to the door,and with a final kiss blown from the doorway, called out "Bye now,the Divine Ms. Willow ? "He turned on his heel and was gone.
Alicantor Bing was just finishing, so I publicly thanked Dudley once again and finished my show with a flourish and some other fine tunes.I packed my music back into its box,collected my coat and made my way to the reception desk. A delegation of presenters and secretaries ,and one or two back room boys were waiting there to say " well done".
"How did you know ,Amarantha? said Jiminy Jinks. How did you find out what his favourite music was ?
He was eating out of your hand ."
"That's for me to know,I laughed. And for you ,Jiminy Jinks, to find out. "
I laughed all the way back to my motor carriage,and back to the peace of my little toadstool home.
Who could have supposed that this afternoon would have turned out this way? Ours is not to reason why - ours is just to accept "gift horses " as they trot along. I will take great pleasure in playing back my interview with the deadly Dudley, to Pendragon this evening. He will be surprised ,and pleased for me,and I suspect a little relieved that no "elven leg" needed to be flourishedI. I don't think I'll mention the kisses, though.
Much good fortune to all of you,my dear friends, on this mad and mildly middling Monday. May all your challenges meet with heavenly intervention, and may all your woodland phonographic helpings be the vocal renderings of Alicantor Bing.
From Amarantha Willow,writer and broadcaster extraordinaire, the Rainbow Faery.
