Our Song : Track 3

The Musical Interludes of a Last Chance Romantic

Take Me To The Pilot - Track 3 of 11

“Good morning sleepy head.”
Reggie’s eyes slowly opened to reveal the blurred figure of his wife stood directly over him. He felt a pain shooting from the backs of his eyeballs across his forehead and through his brain. It was like an electrically charged gastric band had been wrapped around his skull and was pulsating with wave after wave of electrical punishment.
“Good sleep?” Valerie continued, the image of his wife was slowly coming into focus, as the shapes began to form more recognisable features. Suddenly he was being reminded of just how beautiful she was, despite her age, she still looked stunning with her shoulder length dyed blonde hair, and defined cheeks.
Maybe this is the time to tell her.
Tell her what?
That you love her. You know a bit of affection.
What for?
Because you never have before in all these years of marriage.
Isn’t that a reason not to? She’ll be suspicious.
Only this time she has nothing to be suspicious of.
But she doesn’t know that.
Reggie had always disciplined himself in preventing suspicion of his indiscretions from being roused by not giving in to uncharacteristic acts of affection that could be interpreted as anything other than genuine. Therefore, such an act contradicted his better judgement, after all he had been out all night, be it with his best friend, but Valerie wasn’t to know that.
Just a quick word or two, it wouldn’t hurt.
OK. But I’m doing it my way.
“My God! Sometimes I forget just how beautiful you are.” Expressing words of genuine affection were a little beyond him, but compliments were much more his way. Reggie elected to stick with what he knew, the silver tongued charm that had won over many a woman in the past.
“Ha!” Valerie gave out a loud defiant laugh, then stood up from the bed and walked around to the bedroom door. “What do you want?”
“Nothing, just waking up to you is like…” He paused, he needed something romantic to compare her to, but this was starting to move beyond his usual repertoire.
“Like?” Valerie asked, seeing Reggie’s eyes starting to glaze over, only too aware of his inability to identify a suitable simile with which to complete the sentence. She also seemed to take much delight in the discomfort clearly being exhibited across his face as he struggled to identify an appropriately romantic analogy.
“There is nothing. Nothing that can truly describe how lucky I am to be blessed with a wife as lovely as you.” He smiled at the figure stood frozen in the door way. She seemed completely stunned and motionless. “Val?”
There was a period of silence through which Reggie awaited a response. It was true he hadn’t been too forth coming with such comments in the past towards his wife – other women yes, but his wife? Not so much - part of him was keen to assess any feedback as to the outcome of this experiment.
“Have you been taking something?” Valerie asked, and stepped out of the bedroom door.
Was that a success?
I have no idea.
Well, what was the anticipated response that would indicate success?
I have no idea.
If this were an opening line in a pub, I’d take that as rejection, but here? I’m not so sure.
But this is very different to one of your sordid one night flings. Valerie is a classy lady who deserves honesty and respect. She’s not some dirty whore you’ve met in a bar, she’s your wife.
Then how does one know whether to pursue such romantic gestures if there is no sure sign of it having the correct impact?
Reggie knew the answer. “I have no idea.” He muttered sarcastically at the anticipated response.
“Did you say something?”
Reggie realised that he had spoken that last sentence out aloud. “Just talking to myself dear.”
Judging from the echo emanating from her voice as she continued talking, he guessed that she was in the bathroom next door and so with a great deal of effort and reluctance he raised himself to a seated position, rubbing his eyes with his hands that he had made into fists.
“You might want to take your dressing gown off before you come to bed next time.” Valerie announced as her head poked into the bedroom, before vanishing again.
Reggie looked down to notice that he was in fact still wearing his dressing gown. He pulled the top lapels close together, the edges of the material felt cold and wet, had he been sweating that much in bed? True enough, he would usually sleep topless with just a pair of shorts, so the extra layer of clothing may well have increased his overall body temperature to a point where perspiration was necessary. But then, there was no sign of sweating across his forehead, or in his hair. In fact the only apparent liquid was that on his dressing gown.
What if? No it couldn’t be, it was just a dream.
So why is your dressing gown wet if it didn’t happen?
I was clearly hot last night. Must have fallen asleep in my dressing gown and when I started to sweat it prompted me to have a somewhat surreal dream. There, puzzle solved.
“What puzzle darling?”
“Huh?” Valerie was now stood in the room in front of him.
“You just said Puzzle solved, what puzzle?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking out loud.”
“Again? You wanna be careful of that, you’re getting a bit old to be doing too much thinking.” Valerie gave a cheeky laugh.
Sat on the edge of the bed, he felt his brain slowly sliding from side to side inside his skull; the gastric band had clearly been loosened, with the pain now very much easing into a different kind of discomfort. Reggie placed his hands over his head and began to rub aggressively at his skull as he saw Valerie, who had now returned to the bedroom and was removing further items of clothing from the wash basket at the bottom of the bed. She then scattered them across the floor, in what Reggie could only assume were various categories of wash cycles, of which he had to concede he had no knowledge.
“What did you want to do for our Anniversary this year darling?” She asked, shaking open a pair of his black trousers in a manner unlikely to have stimulated such a question. She then completed the action, checking the pockets for any miscellaneous items and then dropping them onto the carpet.
“I don’t know, what did you fancy doing?”
“I wanna do something different for a change.”
“Something different? Like go away?”
“Well not necessarily go away. But something.”
“So a daytime activity?”
“Day or night.” She giggled.
“I like the sound of that present Mrs Dudgeon.”
“And no presents.”
“You what?”
“Well, nothing physical.”
Reggie’s smile spun upside down to a mock frown. “Sounds a bit disappointing.”
“You know what I mean you naughty old man. Let’s not worry about actual gifts, it’s not as if either of us really needs anything. Let’s just do something crazy.” She gave a flirtatious laugh as she turned to him.
“I know something I need.” Reggie replied, a smile returning to the corners of his mouth, and mischief across his eyebrows.
“Cheeky.”
She was up to something. Reggie could tell from the way she was speaking, not to mention her cheery and somewhat flirtatious tone that Valerie had an idea in mind, the question was when would she divulge the full details of her plan? Clearly, the conversation was being directed towards a certain place, but he had not received sufficient information to anticipate quite where that place was, or whether he wished to go there, even for just a look around.
“Like what?” It was a weak response, but it left him unexposed to any accusation of being unwilling to compromise or try new experiences. Of course, both of these statements were true, Reggie much preferred the comfort of his own home and familiarities, but the secret to a successful marriage was never admitting that to the other half.
Valerie gave a forced laugh and stepped over towards Reggie, “I always choose, haven’t you got any ideas?”
Reggie took hold of Valerie’s arms and pulled her towards him, hugging her midriff, “I’ve got one or two ideas, but they don’t involve going out.” He gave her a quick embrace, gently squeezing her backside with his hands.
“Get off you old pervert.” She laughed as she swung Reggie’s arms away from her and walked back to his wardrobe. “What’s got into you this morning?”
“Can’t a man show a bit of affection to his beautiful wife?”
“Some men can. With you, I always think you’re up to something.” She removed a couple of t-shirts from the shelf at the top of the wardrobe and dropped them onto the floor by her feet. “And I’m usually right.”
“Why would you say that? I’m affectionate.” Sounding a little defensive, what had started as a bit of fun, had actually shaken Reggie, and he couldn’t help but feel a little upset by his wife’s taunt.
“Reggie.” Valerie turned to her husband, as she dropped Reggie’s jumper to the floor, “We’d been married for nearly ten years before you started writing kisses in my birthday cards. You may be many things, but a hopeless romantic you ain’t.”
She was right of course, even to this day he merely added a token cross to the bottom of any greetings cards to his wife. And that was more out of necessity after a decade of his wife’s persuasive nagging with regards his lack of affection.
“Don’t look so offended. Face it darling, I love you, but you’re just not one for showing your sensitive side.”
With that, Valerie stepped over the scattered pile of clothes that had now accumulated at the foot of the bed, and walked out of the bedroom. “Why don’t you take me dancing?” The echoed voice came from the bathroom once more. “I haven’t been dancing for years, Sonya was telling me of a place she’d heard of.”
I knew it. I should have realised where she was going when she mentioned a night time activity.
Clearly she had been thinking of this when she first opened the conversation, but had given Reggie enough time to provide an alternative, knowing too well that he would be unable to do so. Therefore he could have no reason for vetoing any suggestion of hers if he hadn’t suggested anything better within the time given. The way the woman’s mind worked often amazed Reggie, like a professional chess player, always a few moves ahead leading your Bishop behind the last line of pawns, then, before you know it your Queen’s been exposed to an attack from the rear and the King is in mate from a marauding Knight.
Valerie was a terrific dancer, it was the reason they first met. One of the few occasions that Reggie had agreed to go watch a live music show in a local public house, and there dancing by the stage with all her might as if nothing else in the world mattered, was this incredibly slim and sexy, twenty year old Valerie. Her long, blonde hair swinging to the heavy guitar rifts, and slender waistline swaying in time with the beat.
“What do you think to the band?” Bernie shouted out, as the two friends stood near the back of a heavily packed public house, both sipping on pint glasses of ale and partly listening to the band. This had been Bernie’s suggestion, Reggie was just happy to be out again, having recently broken off his relationship with a somewhat insecure and subversive young lady who objected profusely to him socialising in such a way.
“Absolutely stunning!” Reggie answered, smitten for the girl dancing a matter of ten metres away across a crowded pub floor.
“I told you they were good didn’t I?” Bernie shouted as he took another sip from his pint glass. “My brother is good mates with Johnny, the lead singer.” He announced proudly. But for Reggie, there was only one person he was interested in.
“Who is she?” He enquired, leaning over to his friend and asking in a low voice.
“You what?” Bernie shouted, trying to hear over the noise.
“The girl!” Reggie shouted, “Look at her move.” Reggie paused again to watch her glimmering costume wiggling in front of the stage.
“What girl?”
“In front of the stage. Long, blonde hair. Shaking her hips like there’s no tomorrow.” His eyes were drawn to the luscious curves that seductively shook to the drums.
“You mean Valerie?”
“The blonde girl?”
“Yeah, the blonde girl at the front. I wouldn’t even bother mate. Her name’s Valerie, she’s Johnny’s girlfriend.”
“Who’s Johnny?”
“The lead singer! My brother’s mate!”
“You don’t think she’d be interested?” Reggie laughed as he took a swig from his pint glass.
Bernie laughed, “Between you and the lead singer of a rock and roll band? What do you think?”
“He’s nothing special.”
“Seriously?” Bernie’s face looked contorted as he scowled at Reggie in the ambient rock lighting of the pub. “Look at you.” He looked Reggie up and down before turning to the stage, “And look at him.”
There was a pause as Reggie considered and then rejected the notion that Bernie had presented.
“I mean it Reggie, stay clear of that one.”
“How come? She’s here, I’m here and her boyfriend’s here to ward off any would be suitors, if he should wish. Not as if I’m trying anything behind his back, is it? As far as I’m concerned, it’s fair game.”
“Of all the eligible girls here Reggie, you have to take a fancy to her?”
“When my heart makes a choice, who am I to change its mind?”
“I think you may need a new lesson on anatomy if you think it’s your heart making that decision.”
“All I can say is he’s served me well in the past. Maybe you should listen to yours once in a while, maybe you wouldn’t be so uptight.”
The drinking continued throughout the musical set with Reggie’s eyes firmly fixed on the delightful being, full of energy, strutting her stuff in front of her singer boyfriend. There was little conversation to be had between the two friends, the noise impeded much of Reggie’s audio capability, and besides, Bernie seemed mesmerised by the performance of his brother’s associate, allowing Reggie to contemplate his own intervention strategy. 
It was only a matter of time until she had to walk past. Reggie had calculated the most likely route that she would take through the crowds to the bar, but the girl was relentless, fuelled by her insatiable passion for music. It was as if she would go on all night without a single refreshment break until finally.
“Same again Reggie?” The Gods were smiling on Reggie, perhaps it was fate, after all this time. Time for him to put his plan into action.
“Nah mate, I’ll get these.”
It wasn’t the offer of a drink that had pinged Reggie’s alertness but something that had coincidently taken place at almost exactly the same time. Fate or coincidence? Either way, Reggie had caught a glimpse of Valerie giving an indication that she was thirsty and starting to look around her as if seeking a route from the stage and back to the bar.
Reggie had spotted the opportunity straight away. Bernie was renowned for being tight with money, particularly when it came to purchasing the next round of drinks. It seemed as though the Gods were conspiring to give him the perfect opportunity to engage Valerie, and then, who knows what could happen?
“It’s OK buddy, it’s my round.”
Reggie could see that, even as he spoke, Bernie was still encapsulated with the music, constantly turning his head as he spoke. “You carry on listening to the music. I’ll get the drinks.”
“It’s not a problem mate. I’m not as tight as people say, I can afford to get another round.”
“I’m not saying you’re tight.”
“Well then, hurry up and finish your drink, and I’ll get us another one.”
Reggie wasn’t proud of his next move, but time was running out as he saw Valerie squeezing her way through the crowd and making her way in his direction. He leant back slightly so that his arm was slightly pressing against that of the person behind. He then raised his glass to his lips.
“Oops.” The person behind, as expected, acknowledged the sudden restriction of his own space that had been caused by Reggie’s movement. And so, to even the balance and re-secure some of the free air, he arched his back in such a way that caused Reggie to lurch forwards and tip the last of his ale over the shirt of the unsuspecting Bernie.
“What the hell?!” Bernie stepped back, but it was too late. The small quantity of ale left had been perfectly aligned to his chest causing a large circular patch to form on his shirt.
“Sorry mate.” Reggie glanced apologetically at his damp friend, then turned around to offer a faint look of distain at the person behind him.
“You alright mate?” This was no man, it was some kind of monster. His voice was a deep, fearsome tone. His hair was thick and curly, with sideburns almost down to his chin; but what caught Reggie’s eye was the man’s arms. Firstly, because the size of the guy, which Reggie had failed to acknowledge when he first identified the plan, Reggie’s forehead only just reached over his shoulders therefore his eyes were in direct line of sight with the anvils that had been inserted into the man’s upper arms. And then he saw his hands, clasping the pint as if it were a shot glass.
Abort, abort!
Nervously he answered, “No mate, we’re good.” The man just scowled, as Reggie quickly turned back to his friend, with half an eye on his back.
“I better see if I can dry this up I suppose.” Bernie then thrust his pint glass forward towards Reggie, and taking one last glance at the band as they swung into the finale of yet another song he requested his next drink, “I’ll have the same again.” Then walked off dejectedly to the wash rooms.
Where is she? She can’t have gone far?
Reggie looked around the crowded room, but couldn’t see her anyway. It was possible that she had taken an alternative route, after all, his incident with Bernie had caused a minor commotion which may have inadvertently resulted in a last minute diversion to her course.
However, the bar area was a busy place, so it was possible that if Valerie had taken an alternative direction, he would not be able to see her through the crowds. It was worth taking a look around the bar to see; and at the same time reimburse his poor friend with a fresh pint of ale, having been the cause of his embarrassment.
Bernie didn’t deserve that.
I’m sure he would understand. All in a good cause.
“Ha!” Reggie gave out a laugh as he slid his way through the cracks in the gathering groups which encompassed the bar. The image of Bernie’s stunned expression with the large wet patch across his shirt amused him to the point that he was unable to withhold a chuckle.
Despite the quantity of people, there was actually no queue to purchase drinks, most people were simply using the bar area as somewhere for them to stand and enjoy the music. A young barman stood idly, leaning over a bar tap and watching the band performing a similarly high tempo rock anthem. “Ahem.” Reggie was stood directly next to the lad, but he appeared not to even acknowledge Reggie’s presence. With a second clearing of his throat, the lad finally turned his head.
Not wishing to wait through the inevitable pause that would take place whilst the teenager considered the implications of his role as a bar tender, Reggie immediately commenced his drinks order, raising the glasses he held in his hands, “Two more pints of ale.”
The lad took hold of the glasses and almost reluctantly placed one beneath the beer tap. The beer began flowing from the tap, and the bar tender’s eyes instantly drifted back to the band.
“Good aren’t they?”
“I’m sorry?” Reggie answered, preoccupied by his continuous search for the young girl who had caught his eye.
“The band mate, you enjoying them?”
“Yeah, they’re not bad.”
“Not bad? That Johnny has a fantastic voice! Pure raw energy!”
Reggie didn’t quite understand the statement. What was so great about the so-described raw qualities to Tommie’s voice? It was like listening to somebody trying to remove a crumb from the back of his throat with a combination of singing and gargling.
He stood and watched as the bar boy slowly tilted the glass, filling the first pint to the top. It really didn’t make much sense to him just how much people were drawn into the musical performance, like some sort of drug. For Reggie, the music was entertaining, but it was hardly sufficient to keep his attention for long.
However, it was clearly a keen interest of Valerie, and if he was to carry out his pursuance of her attentions, then he would need to feign some form of interest in the topic. Therefore it was imperative he showed some interest in the performance.
If music be the food of love, Reggie was hoping for a tune with an upbeat tempo consistent with that of a hot chilli.
Just then, Reggie spotted an all too familiar forehead at the opposite side of the room. He could just about make out Bernie, and with him was the delightful Valerie, leaving the vicinity of the wash rooms. The two of them chatting and laughing as if old friends, and making their way over towards the bar where he stood.
At first Reggie cursed his luck, but knowing Bernie he realised that there was very little competition that come in the shape of his friend of ten years. Bernie was a great lad to have around, but hardly somebody who could sweep a beauty like Valerie off her feet. If anything, their clear friendship would go in Reggie’s favour.
“Anything else sir?” The bar boy’s voice appeared from over Reggie’s shoulder.
“Hold on a second.”
“You wanna pay for these first and come back?”
“Won’t be a moment.”
“Not as if there’s much of a queue, you can come back.”
“Yeah, they’ll be here in a minute.”
“It was a second, a moment ago.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Your time frame of waiting seems to have expanded.”
“It’s just a figure of speech.”
“Maybe, or maybe come the end of the night I am still waiting your final addition to this order. Maybe come the end of the year, I will still be stood in wonder as to what additional beverage you wished to purchase that you felt unable to identify for unexplainable reasons.”
“Look, my friend is just on his way over with a young lady. I would like to hold on until she arrives in case she wants a drink. Is that explainable enough for you?”
“Maybe you could start a tab?”
“I could do that here?”
“No, we don’t do tabs at this bar. So can you please pay for your drinks, and just make a further order if she gets here.”
“When.” Reggie snapped.
“Yes of course. When this mystery girl arrives.”
At that moment, fate reached over and leant Reggie a crisp five pound note of opportunity, as Bernie approached with Valerie, who appeared even more beautiful, up close.
“I can’t believe you just said that, you are so naughty, shhh…” Valerie laughed as she looked over to the stage area where her boyfriend was completely immersed in his performance and the radiance emanating from the audience.
“Reggie, this is Valerie, a lovely young lady I had the good fortune to meet a couple of years ago at one of Johnny’s first ever live performances. Val this is Reggie, a very good friend of mine, whom I have known nearly all my life.”
“For my sins.” Reggie announced and there was a polite laugh between the three of them.
“Very pleased to meet you.” Valerie gave a smile and reached out a hand loosely in front of her for Reggie to shake.
The opportunity was too good to miss. He leant forward with his right hand out front and took hold of hers. As he did so, he noticed that Valerie had also leant her body forward slightly and so grabbing the opportunity, he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. To which there seemed to be no objection.
“Very pleased to meet you.” The two of them shared a look that had long been reserved for movie stars in romantic epics from Hollywood.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
“I’ll have an orange juice thanks.”
“Just an orange juice?”
“I’m watching my figure.” She answered in a soft sultry manner.
“Why don’t I do that for you, and you can have whatever you want from behind the bar.”
He gave a smile and was pleased to see the look returned as Valerie responded positively to his advance.
“Maybe what I want is on this side of the bar.” Valerie gave a cheeky little smile before turning to face the band. Reggie turned around to face the bar boy.
“Smooth.” The lad already had a glass of orange juice in one hand and the other outstretched palm was waiting for the much anticipated payment.
Reggie took hold of the glass “Thank you,” and in one turn, spun around and handed it to Valerie, whilst at the same time passing the newly poured pint of ale that had already been clasped in his other hand, over to Bernie. He then returned his glance to the bar boy, and retrieving a nice new five pound note, placed it in his hand. “Keep the change.” Then he took hold of his own pint and joined the other two.
Reggie felt untouchable, he could see Valerie’s eyes looking him up and down, and he recognised her naughty little grin that suggested she had taken an interest in him.
“So stud, what brings you around here?” No questioning, the girl was upfront, and Reggie liked that about her.
Trying to sound as cool as possible he shrugged his shoulders and replied. “Bernie suggested we come down have a listen, reckoned it would be alright.”
Valerie laughed, “And what do you think? Is it alright?”
“Not bad I s’pose, at least there’s no queue for the drinks.”
“Not your sort of music? Rather be on your bike?” With that she gave a little tug of his leather jacket which he was still wearing despite the temperature of the pub. “Or is this thing just for show?”
“You can’t beat the open roads.”
“Really? I was hoping you’d say that.” She began to stroke the leather sleeve with the back of her hand.
“You like bikes?”
“Do I? All that power? What girl doesn’t. Especially when there’s a real man on top who knows what to do with that raw energy.” The girl was positively filthy in her manner as her hand slid from his coat sleeve to the front where she began fiddling with the zip between her thumb and forefinger, stroking the inner lining. “I love this jacket, that’s the real reason I asked Bernie to introduce you.”
“You love the jacket? You’ll love the bike even more.”
“You’ll have to show me some time James Dean.”
Reggie felt like the ultimate rebel. Here he was chatting up this gorgeous blonde girl, whilst her boyfriend was a matter of metres away, completely unaware of the situation.
“Maybe if you’re free this weekend…” He had begun to respond, but stopped when he became aware that her attention had been quickly diverted away from him and towards the stage, where it only just occurred to Reggie that the music had stopped.
Stood very seriously at the front of the stage, Johnny took hold of the microphone stand and with a solemn and deep voice, leaving poignant pauses between each short sentence, he spoke into the mic causing a reverberation all around the pub. “Before I go on any further, I’d like to dedicate this next song to someone very special. She’s in the audience today. My inspiration, and guiding light. The most beautiful girl on the planet. Forever yours. Valerie.” As Johnny spoke, nearly everybody in the pub began turning around, trying to catch a glimpse of this girl.
Valerie didn’t say a word, she merely waved her arm majestically in the air like royalty. A dignified smile on her face as she did so.
“This one’s for you babe.” Johnny announced before proceeding with a slow arpeggio on his electric guitar.
“Reggie!? Are you there?”
Reggie was swept back out of the smoky atmosphere of the pub and back to the quiet refinement of his bedroom.
“You what?”
“Did you hear what I said?” It was Valerie’s voice coming from the direction of the stairs.
“No love, I was … thinking.”
“Hmmm, you do a lot of that these days.” Her tone had definitely dropped from the jovial one that had been present not long earlier as she poked her head around the door.
“Why did we ever get rid of the bike?”
Valerie gave a short and hurtful laugh, “The bike? Is that what you were thinking about? My God, you do like to live in the past don’t you?”
“You used to love the old bike.”
“I did, when you and I were young enough to ride it without looking silly.”
“You used to say it made me look sexy. That I reminded you of James Dean.”
“And it did then, but let’s remember it for what it was. I’m sorry you’re no James Dean anymore. Let’s not spoil the illusion shall we?”
“It’s what first made you interested in me.”
“True as that is, now I’m only interested in your dirty washing these days.” She laughed again as she left the room completely. Then came a voice from the direction of the stairs, “Speaking of which, bring your dirty clothes down with you when you come?”
Reggie stood up from the bed, but before he had a chance to do anything more, a further instruction came hollering up the stairs. “And bring your dressing gown down with you as well, it’s filthy. I don’t know what you were getting up to, but it looks like you were doing some midnight gardening.”
Reggie took hold of his robe, and had a proper look to see a couple of green fern leaves attached to some loose cotton threads. He brushed them off.
How had they got there?
I’m telling you it really happened.
“Come on Reggie, I wanna get that wash on before lunch.”
Before lunch? What’s the time?
Reggie looked across the room at the large analogue clock hanging from the wall above the dressing table.
Quarter past ten? Is it really that time?
The light shining in from the window suggested that the clock was correct. For the first time in months, Reggie had slept through the night, and he felt much better for it; completely relaxed, and with no pain withering inside his skull. 
Reggie stretched his arms up towards the ceiling, loosening his entire upper torso, and giving out an extremely satisfying exhalation of carbon dioxide. His ears popped, it was as if every single body part was being injected with a new lease of life. The blood was flowing through his veins, this was to be a very good day; he would sort the dripping tap in the kitchen, then give Louise a call and then maybe he and Valerie could drop by for a cup of tea and catch up with their daughter.
Reggie could hear voices downstairs. Only faint as if a hushed whisper.
It had to be Valerie, but who was she talking to?
He raised himself from the bed, and made his way out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He made attempts to hear what was being said through the wooden obstruction, but all he could make out was what sounded like a muffled giggle coming from the living room.
Reggie swung the door open, to see his wife stood with her back to the door, peering out of the window. One hand holding her mobile phone against her right ear, and the other twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger.
“Who’s on the phone?” Reggie asked. Valerie seemed unaware of his presence until he spoke, and then she turned around to face him, her eyes suddenly burst open as if she had seen a ghost.
“I gotta go, bye.” It was short and sweet, but without taking her eyes off Reggie she lowered the phone from her ear and placed it into her pocket.
“Who was that on the phone? Val?”
For what seemed forever, Valerie just stared at Reggie in the doorway until she finally answered, “Erm Sonia, I said I’d go and see her. Her Mum’s had another bad turn.” At least it appeared to be an answer, though it was released in an emotionless single tone, as if unable to substantiate her statement, like something was on her mind as she was speaking.
The intensity of Valerie’s stare left Reggie examining himself for any further traces of conifer or other such blemish that may have caught her eye.
“Where’s the washing?” There was a frown across her face, and an accusation in her tone that clearly acknowledged the fact that he had forgotten the singular chore he had been given.
He had no answer as he felt the tidal wave beginning to rise in the turbulent seas between him and his wife, “It was the one thing I asked you to do!” The tone of her voice rising, her cheeks reddening. “What is it with you? Can you not remember one bloody thing I ask you to do? Is there something wrong with your hearing? Or do you just not bloody listen to a word I say?”
There was no way he could answer, he knew that Valerie’s friend Sonia had been struggling as of late with caring for her elderly mother who was suffering with Alzheimer’s. Valerie had taken on the burden to support her friend, that was the kind of person she was. That was the kind of person his nurse daughter sought to be. But the pressure of carrying such a weight of another’s troubles had certainly taken its tolls on Valerie’s tolerance, and these frequent sudden emotional outbursts were certainly not isolated as of late.
Valerie stormed across the room to where her coat was hanging beside the door and threw it over her shoulders with an aggression Reggie had rarely seen. She then forced her way past him into the hallway.
“You’ll have to put the washing on now. I haven’t got time.”
Like a whirlwind, Valerie was stood by the open door, with shoes on feet and keys in hand. “I presume you remember how to do that?” She asked rhetorically. Then turning sharply, not waiting for an answer, she walked out of the door and slammed it shut. Reggie stood in silence in the same place in the doorway that he had been when he first interrupted her phone call.
He could have been annoyed with Valerie for her reaction towards him, could have chosen to punish her for their one sided argument clearly brought about by her own crazy mood swings and desire to care for other people before her own family. Ordinarily he would have launched a furore of anger towards the nearest inanimate object within reach, but not this time.
You’re jealous Reggie Dudgeon.
Me? Jealous? About her crazy old friend?
Who are you calling crazy?
What would you call her?
A close friend who is taking up much of your wife’s time and attention.
So why shouldn’t I be annoyed by that?
Because it would be hypocritical.
Hypocritical?
How short your memory is. Is your conscience really so infallible that you have already forgotten?
Forgotten what?
Not so long ago. Under her very nose. There was a time when you didn’t think Sonia was so crazy…
OK, let’s not go there.
Ha ha! It’s not as if Valerie can hear you.
Nothing happened ok?
But it nearly did. You wanted it to didn’t you?
That was a long time ago.
So what are you so afraid of?
Nothing.
Maybe she already knows, maybe that’s why she came home when she did. Maybe she’s always known, all these years.
Not a chance.
Why did she come back?
Her conference was cancelled. She said so, I remember how disappointed she was. She was in a terrible mood.
And you’re sure it was the conference that impacted on her mood?
Of course, I can read her like a book.
You think so do you?
Absolutely.
And you still remember that event clearly do you? After all these years?
It’s not something you can easily forget.
You mean guilt. So you do feel something. You can never hide from it. Not after one year or twenty.
I’m not the one hiding, what about you? Where are you? Why can’t I see you?
Why do you need to? You can hear me, so I must be here. It’s not as if I’m secretly spying on you.
You’re spineless, that’s what it is.
You ask why I have no physical presence that can be observed, and then announce a particular article of physicality of which I am without and treat it as an insult? Do you not hear yourself?
Where are you then? You must have some specifics as to your whereabouts in order to produce the sounds that are reverberating around my ear.
Is my sound not enough?
Not without an origin. A place from whence the sound emanates.
If that is the case, and the physical shape of the sound produced requires some place of origin, surely you are able to trace the aforementioned waves back to their birthplace and in doing so, locate me.
You mean the proof of your existence is only available should I take sufficient actions in order to seek it out?
Is that not the correct definition of guilt? Unless sought, it can never be truly uncovered. That is how so many people are able to live their lives without the impediment of such an emotion.
So what do you propose I do?
If you really wish to identify from where I come, all you need do is seek. But if, as I suspect, your interest is merely out of morbid curiosity in an attempt to distract from the current subject, then maybe you would be better to bypass the search for truth and instead acknowledge my voice for what it is.
And what is that?
Let’s call it… a companion.
Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof!
Is that Freddy? Thought Reggie. He walked across to the dining room, suddenly the other thoughts in his head had gone.
Woof! Woof! Woof!
The barking was continuous, slow and pounding into Reggie’s head like a heavy rock. He reached the patio and looked out across the green, overgrown lawn that stretched the length of the garden to the conifers that created a barrier at the foot of the garden.
He scanned the lawn as the barking continued, but saw no sign of Freddy.
“Freddy?!” He called out in order to alert the dog to his presence and offer some reassurance, “Freddy!”
The dog continued to bark in spite of Reggie’s calls.
“Freddy!” Again he tried to alert the dog as to his presence, but still the dog continued and as Reggie stepped out onto the lawn, he realised he was still no where to be seen.
“Freddy! Cut it out!” He snapped. This time in a much more authoritarian manner as he was starting to lose patience with the animal. In a way that also said Look here you blessed mutt, I’m the boss. You will do as you are told!
But in a desperate act of defiance, the blessed mutt continued with his incessant barking. It wasn’t as if there was anything in the garden that he could possibly have been barking at. Reggie scanned across the lawn; with the exception of a low level of wind combing over the grass, the garden for all intensive purposes was empty. Empty, all except one noisy little hound who was insistent on sharing his thoughts and concerns with the world.
“Freddy! What you barking at?!” Reggie shouted once again, and coated in his dressing gown commenced a patrol of the garden, scanning the perimeter. Not only was there no sign of the reason behind the outcry, but the source of the nuisance was also absent in presence, if not from audio.
Where is that blessed dog?
Reggie walked along the side of the house until he reached the garden gate, and gave it a gentle push. The pad lock remained fixed, and other than a tiny movement caused from the slight give in the arm of the lock, the gate remained shut firm. There was no way Freddy could be outside the confides of the garden.
A six foot fence enclosed the perimeter, and the gate itself was sturdy and of the same height as the fence. But if he wasn’t outside the garden, where could he be? As Reggie stepped around the high wooden fence that encased his garden, he noticed a small stone part hidden in the overgrown grass. Something caused him to bend over and investigate.
The round, dark stone sat partly sunken within the soil, and just a tiny portion sticking out above the grass and shining in the sunlight. As Reggie leant over the stone, he placed his fingers on the curved surface, his fingertips running along the smooth edge.
For years this stone had stood in the garden, nestled in the soil, hidden from view as the grass grew around it. When it was first laid, as a dark disc stood on its edge, there was no grass, just freshly dug soil. It also had upon it a chalk cross on the top half, long since washed away, which had scripted the three letters R.I.P.
Reggie raised himself and stepped backwards, looking down at the ground and now making out the fine blue print of the grave that had been set ten years ago. Once his best friend, now the perished remains lay two feet beneath him.
The occasion had been a private affair, Freddy had laid his head on Reggie’s lap as they sat in the grass watching the autumn sun setting behind them. And with a final gasp of air, Freddy’s body finally relaxed and his life drifted from his old, tired body.
Within a couple of hours the grave had been dug, and filled, and Reggie’s youngest child, his only daughter, Louise had placed a small, oval shaped stone at the top as a head stone. She had drawn a small chalk cross and scribed the letters R.I.P. It was just Louise and Reggie who had been present to say goodbye to an old family friend, and for a few minutes father and daughter knelt on the grass in the moonlight in complete silence.
Reggie’s train of thought was soon interrupted by a particularly emphatic stretch of howling from the dog in the garden next door, followed by a shout of “Shut up you bloody thing!” from the somewhat disinterested owner.
Reggie looked across the garden to next door with a start. He’d forgotten about Snoop, the young and sprightly Dalmatian that lived on the other side of the fence. With a second call from the owner from within their own kitchen, Reggie heard the dog making its way to its master.
On his way back to the house, Reggie noticed that the grass had grown dramatically over the past few weeks. It didn’t seem that long ago since he last got the mower out and showed that lawn who was boss. This was a task Valerie had frequently shunned as being another of Reggie’s man chores.
He looked across the garden to see that in amongst the long, unkempt grass was what appeared to be a dark coloured tennis ball, possibly brown, just nestled in a small indentation of the green blades.
Was it a tennis ball? The kids in the garden next door had on occasion, mistakenly knocked a football over the garden fence, sometimes even a rugby ball, but never tennis. They were a little too physical to strike Reggie as the tennis types. Besides, tennis balls aren’t usually brown.
He took a step closer to take a better look at the object, that from a closer perspective, no longer bore any resemblance to a tennis ball as first identified. There was a small speck of bright red that seemed to shine on a couple of the grass blades beside the object that had now come fully into view. In realisation of what lay before him, he gave a sigh and placed his hands over his eyes plunging the world into darkness.  
Beneath his eyelids, Reggie could see the open road ahead of him, feel the wind blowing through his hair, and the tight grip of his girl friend’s arms around his waist. The ride wasn’t what you would describe as smooth; swerving around the country roads bouncing over the small dips in the dusty remnants of a once newly laid road; but to Reggie, fun wasn’t smooth, it was fast and ferocious.
The thrill of the ride wasn’t just the speed, but the freedom that came with it. Reggie and his girlfriend of just over a year, hit the empty road with nothing in their way.
That is until there was a sudden jolt on the front wheel, as if they had collided with some large rock. The bike began to swerve, and he tried to hold tight to the handlebars and straighten up their progress. Valerie was clinging on tight around Reggie’s waist with one arm, but the other seemed loose as if she had twisted around to see what had caused the disruption to their journey.
Valerie’s awkward body position weighed down one side of the bike causing the rear to shake violently. Reggie knew they would topple if she continued to lean around to the rear, so with his left hand, he quickly took hold of her loose wrist and yanked it forward and back around his waist.
The force did the trick, but with just one hand on the handlebars, he couldn’t prevent the huge weight of the bike taking a dramatic detour from the central position in the road. He had just a matter of seconds to swing his arm back around to the front and take hold of the handlebar to maintain some degree of control over the bike before it veered into a hedge on the edge of the road.
Reggie used his powerful upper body strength to steady the bike and ease on the brake. He could hear Valerie shouting out from behind, but the roar of the engine meant he couldn’t hear what she was saying. He did know that even though he had managed to force her body to face forward, her eyes were still firmly fixed on the road behind them, seemingly unaware of their plight that could have ended with them both lodged inside a hedge.
The bike pulled to a stop. “What the hell!?” Reggie shouted as he turned around to face his girlfriend. But, even as he did so, Valerie seemed completely unaware of his annoyance and leapt off the seat heading back up the country road at pace. In fact, the speed in which she alighted the bike caught Reggie so unexpectedly that the bike dropped to the side, the weight of the engine encouraging the momentum of the fall.
Thud!
“My god, Val!?” Reggie was too embarrassed to shout out loudly, his call for help resulting in a whimpered impulsive cry. There was no way he wanted Valerie to see him looking vulnerable, least of all seeing him laid on the ground beneath his own fallen motorbike.
Luckily she didn’t look around, allowing Reggie enough time to rise to his feet, compose himself and then set about lifting the bike back up onto its two wheels. Not an easy task by any stretch of the imagination. He struggled with all his strength, but it was his pride that finally gave him the extra urgency needed to lift the bike.
Leaning against the seat, trying to subtly exhale so as not to raise Valerie’s suspicions of the effort that he had had to exert in raising his bike, Reggie looked over to see she was now a good couple of hundred metres down the lane and knelt over the roadside.
The engine gave a ferocious roar of excitement, as Reggie once more had the bike stood on its two wheels and purring. With a degree of decorum that had been absent earlier, he called over to Valerie, “What you looking at?”
“I don’t think he’ll make it.”
In Valerie’s hands as she rose to her feet, was the lifeless body of a hedgehog. She turned around and held it out towards him. The creature was dead, and Reggie’s instant reaction was of disgust as if she was holding out an old wash rag towards him. The first thought in his mind was to take the limp body and drop it into the bushes so that they could continue with the ride, but then he caught sight of Valerie’s expression and stopped.
Small tears were dripping from the corners of her eyes; she was looking down at the animal laid in her hands with such a look of remorse that suddenly even Reggie also felt an unfamiliar sense of guilt. It caught him by surprise, a sense of guilt he had certainly never experienced before in relation to the life (or death) of any mere rodent. He reached forward and took Valerie in his arms, drawing her shoulders close to him and holding both her and the hedgehog close to his chest.
“We killed it.” She sobbed. Of course there was nothing they could have done to have prevented the poor creature’s fate, and in times gone by with previous girlfriends, Reggie would have explained this quite clearly to her. But this girl was different, her sense of compassion overwhelmed him, and he could feel the warmth coming from her as he held her close to him.
Valerie had always loved the bike, after all it was the initial reason for bringing them together. But this incident seemed to bring out her motherly instinct, and ever after, the motorbike no longer seemed to hold the same appeal to Valerie as it had once done.
That hedgehog was buried at the bottom of this very garden where they had been living in sin for just a matter of weeks before the accident, and now its remains had long since decayed into the soil. Reggie opened his eyes, he was left with the same scenario in front of him. The body of a dead hedgehog lay on the ground before him, he could see the patch of blood on its prickles that had come from a wound of some sort.
At that moment, Reggie felt an unexplainable urge to lift the hedgehog from the grass. He duly obeyed the instinct, and to his surprise as he glanced over the soft body of the creature, he noticed a flinch from one of its legs. It was only a minor movement, but enough to suggest that this hedgehog wasn’t quite dead. He rushed it back into the kitchen, and with a small piece of wet kitchen towel began to wipe down the injured area clearing the small specks of dirt that had stuck to the fur.
Having seen a number of minor movements from the hedgehog, he returned it outside by the door then placed a small saucer of milk beside it. At first nothing happened, and he started to come to his senses wondering what he was doing trying to nurse an injured hedgehog back to health. Had he gone soft? But when he caught a glimpse of the creature’s tiny nose begin to sniff the air and then hover over the milk he felt an enormous sense of satisfaction. It was a warm feeling that he certainly had never felt in his younger years.
That sensation only just compelled him to re-approach the piano and provide his loving wife with an Anniversary gift she would never forget. But, he was very much aware that he had just seven days to learn to play the song.
Ever since identifying the gift idea he had been questioning himself; just how was he going to manage to learn such a complicated song in such a short space of time? It wasn’t just the issue surrounding playing the piano that was playing on Reggie’s mind. He was never a big fan of Elton John and his extravagant pop lifestyle, and as such wasn’t overly familiar with the song or the words. He would have to familiarise himself properly to what he was going to play by finding the song within Valerie’s musical collection before he did anything else; and time was running out.
But perhaps some of Valerie was rubbing off on him. He knew that she would be thrilled to see the success of his successful resuscitation of the poor hedgehog in their garden that was now lapping up the milk from the saucer as if he hadn’t drunk for a week. Reggie pictured the pleasure on her face to find that her love for all animals had in some small way finally had an impact on him.
The small black nose of the furry mammal was deeply immersed within the saucer of milk, and Reggie could visibly see the milk level dropping.
Clearly dying can give you quite a thirst.
With the saucer licked dry of milk, the little fellow made his way across the grass, under the fence and away, as if it had all just been an elaborate trick on the hedgehog’s behalf.
Whether it had been a feigned injury or not, Reggie stood back with a strong sense of satisfaction flowing through him; only to realise that he was smiling.

To be continued...
Track 4 - No Shoe Strings On Louise