It was only a day later that Alain called Mal with the schedule for the band's trip into the radio station the following day. Mal and his bandmates hadn't even realised they'd been missing any information, they'd been to busy getting their heads around the very notion of doing an interview and playing a song live on the radio - even if it was just local community radio. Anyway, it turned out that the station had a small recording space - very small - where the band would be playing, and where they'd have to go and set up beforehand. That would ease Eric's worries, at least, because it would mean that he could bring in some semblance of a drumkit - he'd been thinking he might just have to carry his snare drum under his arm into the station - and now that Mal thought about it he realised that it made things easier for him, too: he realised that he hadn't really given any thought to how he'd go about setting up his bass and amp in the studio where he'd assumed they'd be doing both the interview and the performance. He'd assumed that it'd just be a low-key acoustic performance, like he'd heard before on the radio - but it hadn't occurred to him that he didn't have an acoustic bass.

Oh well. Didn't matter now, anyway. Now all he had to do was let the others know about the new details - Alain asked him to - and then they just had to figure out how to get there.

So it was that the next day, the day of the interview, they were all crammed into Eric's van along with their equipment, trying to find the radio station.

"I thought it'd be a big place" Mal said. "With, like signs and stuff."

"Maybe it is" said Steve. "Maybe we're lost."

"We're not lost" Eric snapped. He was the one driving. "I know exactly where we are."

"Do you know where the station is?"

"I know where it should be."

"Oh, well that's okay then" said Steve sarcastically. "We'll just ring them up and tell them they're in the wrong place. We'll ask them to move. No worries."

"Have you got the Melways there?" Eric asked him.

"It's here" Mal said from the back seat. He held it forward through the gap between the front seats for either Steve or Eric to take.

"Well how about one of you does something useful, like look it up" Eric said. He honked his horn as someone cut him off.

"Do you have the address?" Steve asked as he took the street directory from Mal. Eric opened the glovebox and pulled a piece of paper out, and put it in Steve's hand. "Okay, okay . . ." Steve flipped open the index of the street directory, and looked at the piece of paper, and then looked up through the van's windscreen to try to find a street sign to get his bearings. "Okay" he said again as he started to piece everything together. "Turn down this next street. On the left."

The next street on the left was almost upon them when he said this, and Eric pushed the brake pedal into the floor of the van and was rewarded by a volley of honking from the cars behind him. He looked at the street. "It's one way!" he said. "The other way!"

"Are there any cars coming out of it?" Steve asked.

"No" said Mal, craning to see.

"Then go! Go, go, go!" Steve cried. "It's the quickest way! Like anyone ever gets booked for driving the wrong way down a one-way street!"

With the drivers behind him starting to shout abuse over the top of their horns, Eric gritted his teeth and turned the wheel. "If we get caught on a camera or something then it was you who was driving" he said to Steve.

"Like the cops will ever believe that" Mal said from the back seat. "You never let him drive!"