Extra Time 4

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CHAPTER 4
I get lost with police ranks above Inspector, and the man we eventually went to see was a Superintendent. I sat outside with Den for a while as John was put through the mill. The Sergeant seemed keen to talk.

“So you knew him at school? Small world”

“I didn’t know him at school, that’s just the point, aye? I knew his fists and feet, like, but then I sort of knew a lot of lads’ extremities, if you see what I mean”

“Aye, not the softest part of the world, lass. You seem to be holding up, though”

I looked across at him. “Friends, Den, friends. Wouldn’t be here without them”

He sighed. “Aye, that’s one thing I do know”

“It’s, like, you don’t realise you’re not the only one. You get so wrapped up in your own shit you can’t see that others around you have got a great big bowl of it set in front of them. I mean, look at John there, he’s not the only broken toy I know, but he’s like the rest. He cares, aye?”

Den laughed. “I never, ever thought I would be sitting here discussing the generosity of spirit of John fucking Forster. Look, I have to get on, aye? I should be with you, escorted visitor and all that shite, but I think you are more than a bit trustworthy, aye? Just call back at the desk when he comes back out and I’ll sign you back out. Annie’ll be sorry she missed you”

“Aye, something Sally and Alec were saying. Meet someone like me, show me I’m not that odd, I suppose. How did she do it?”

Den laughed again. “Being a bit of a bloody angel, as far as I can see. That, and scary friends and a fucking good husband. That’s another thing, like; she had a few like her to look at as well, show her she wasn’t what you said, odd. And Sally, of course. Bit good, that one. Look, here’s my mobile number. If he gets the job, gie’s a ring and me and Kirst can talk him through where the shit’s deepest around here”

“We’re grabbing either a pint or a coffee after, Den”

“Sorry, got a kid to pick up. Got a session on next Monday, though”

“I meant a pint, not a piss-up, mate!”

“Music session, pet. Annie’s a bit partial to that, and there’s beer and curry. Over in Charlwood, seven o’clock, the Sun, aye?”

“I’ll think on. Might bring some friends if we come. What do you play?”

He laughed again. “A supping and supporting role! The others are good, though”

It struck me, just as he took his leave, that he had called me ‘pet’. Bloody hell…

John was out quite quickly, smiling as he zipped his jacket up and we went back to Den’s empire to be signed out. The Sergeant took our passes with a raised eyebrow, and John grinned.

“He’s a bit fond of diversity, thy boss!”

“Oh aye, and you should have seen him around Annie. She says it looked as if all his Christmases had arrived on the same day. Anyway, I’ve made Jill an offer–no, not like that! She’ll explain, I’m sure. Right, off you go, I’m expecting trade”

John looked at me sharply as we left. “Coffee, Jill? I could do with a sandwich or something…look, not got much cash on me…”

I ended up giggling at that one. Not laughing, but sort of snort-chuckles. “Does Alec know you are running out of readies, John?”

For the first time ever I saw him blush. “Well, no real job, cohabiting, like; the benefits people are being a bit cuntish. Bloody typical, aye, they get all equal opportunity on our proverbial donkey, and then see it as another way to screw us. Sorry, probably not the best metaphor. Look, Alec sees us right, but I don’t want to sponge”

I stopped and turned him towards me. “Two things, marra, two things you need to get straight. Firstly, the thing that breaks most couples up is money, and combined with secrecy that is a dead cert, aye? Secondly…secondly, I can see what you have done for him, everyone can, so no guilt just because you aren’t earning properly just now. How many housewives are there? What they do isn’t paid, but it’s as valuable, as bloody equal opps as an equal opps thing, aye? Speak to him; he…”

The words were there, and they should not have surprised me, but they did, with the intensity I suddenly knew was between the two of them. “He loves you, John, very obviously, and I know you love him, so don’t fuck it up over money, aye?”

He looked away again. “That’s the thing, Jill. I do, and I think he does, like, as well, and I have quite simply never been in this position before. It was always about the shagging, when I were younger, all the physical shit. I mean, that lad in the Army, that was a good bit of---“

“John, trust me, I don’t really need to know what you get up to in bed, aye?”

“Aye, I know. And to be honest, well, there was a bit more to him, and perhaps a couple of others, aye? Loneliness, like; it’s there all the time. Just, well, the shagging sort of kept the loneliness away, but this, this is different. This lad cares, Jill. And he’s been there before, with …you know”

“Aye, John, I know”

“It’s not easy for people like me…what’s funny?”

“Ah, pal, just consider for a moment who and what you are talking to, and let’s sod off from here and get that sandwich. My treat, and that isn’t a debt, aye?”

So we wandered back to the County Mall and found a seat in Giardino’s, and I had a small moment of revelation as I realised that we were being seen as a straight couple, and my remark to John about ‘who and what’ came back to me.

It took a while, but I think I got through, and yet again I was being confronted with the simple fact that it wasn’t just me that had problems. Not only that, from John’s careless remark it was clear I also wasn’t the only one with her head up her arse, and that thought in itself made me smile, because my own internal pronouns had shifted. All the years of acting out a role were behind me. A confused snack break? Most definitely!

Problems. I had a sudden thought, and pulled my mobile out of my handbag.

“Hiya Jill! How’s stuff?”

“Hiya, Karen, rather good at the moment. Just been in with John for his interview”

“Interview? Oh, the other John! How did it go?”

“Quite well, from what he says. Turns out one of the sergeants there knows him from their younger days. Listen, we’re having a coffee, and a quick bite, and it’s noisy here, so what are you up to on Monday?”

“Nothing as yet. What can you offer?”

“Monday evening there’s a music session at a pub not far from me. I was wondering how James might cope”

“What sort of music? Nothing loud, like that shit you listen to?”

“No; I get the impression it’ll be like a sort of Irish pub crack thing, with beer and curry and stuff. We can put you up if you want”

“I’ll have a word with Terry, yeah? It could be good for him, James that is. He gets music, I think, no need to talk, and it’s all numbers, so it works for him. Send me the details, and I’ll see what we can do”

We said our goodbyes, and I rang another number.

“Hiya Will!”

“Hi Jill; out with Mum doing some shopping, so…”

“Does she know my name?”

“Nope. She’s out of earshot just now; she’ll think I’ve got a girlfriend if she hears, so if I go weird on you you’ll understand”

“Ready for Newcastle?”

“Absolutely, but you didn’t ring to ask me that”

“Bloody students; too clever for their own good. No, it’s a thing on Monday evening, just a musical evening at a pub, few of us going. Could you find an excuse?”

“Yeah, Jill, be nice to catch up with you and the girls. Your parents out?”

“Your mam’s back?”

“Yeah, could bring a sleeping bag, but…oh, hi mum, just sort of setting up a date…”

I heard Von’s voice tinny in the background. “Who’s this?”

“Just some girl. Name’s Jill”

“Is she a nice girl?”

“I think so. Look, Mum, she can hear you, that’s not too cool, yeah? What can I tell her? Night out on Monday, kip at hers?”

“With her parents away? You are a dark horse, William. Can I speak to her?”

“She’s a bit shy, Mum. Not now, ay?”

“Well, about time you found a girl, and I will have no say when you are at university, so, OK, go on, Where is this date?”

“Just over into West Sussex. I can grab the train”

“OK then. I’m just going to look at some gloves for your nana. I’ll leave you to your chatting-up”

“She’s gone, Jill”

I laughed. “It’s not just over into West Sussex, it’s right the other side!”

“Ah, I didn’t say where it was just over FROM, did I? Anyway, I’m an astrophysicist, not a geographer”

“And it’s actually in Surrey….I’ll mail you the details, aye? Oh, don’t worry, I’ve set up a new account, saves confusion, just in case she reads your e-mails. Trust me, Will, I wouldn’t put it past her”

“OK. Monday it is, then”

I got John home then, with some stern words for him about secrecy and sharing, and arrived in my–our–place just as my lover did, and somehow ended up in the shower with her, and…count your blessings, Jill Carter, count them and smile.

Monday came, and Larinda offered to stay sober and drive us to Charlwood. I had thought of asking the other John, but I knew there would be enough work with James to take the edge off the evening’s fun, so quietly shelved the idea. Four of us in the car, then, five when we collected William from the airport station, and then out through the fields to the pub, which was a solid brick place I remembered visiting years before in the course of business. I hoped they wouldn’t recognise me, and add some chef’s special sauce to my food, but then realised I was looking rather different now. We found a corner away from the obvious musicians’ space, and I went to the bar to gather the first round. Alec followed me.

“Jill, all I will say is that John and I talked, and he told me it was your doing. End of conversation, but thank you”

He hugged me, and took the first two glasses back to our table. I looked around for familiar faces, and there was Den, and the chesty WPC, sergeant, whatever, that had dealt with our incident with the queerbashers. They entered amidst a great crowd of people, including Annie, and I spent a while trying to work out who was who and what they were to each other. There were young people as well, and one of them, a lad, called her ‘mum’ when he wasn’t wrapped up with a girl that looked as if she had cornered the world’s entire supply of pink. Behind them came Karen, Terry and James.

Terry murmured into my ear. “Crowded here, love, so don’t know how long he’ll last. See how the music settles him, OK?”

James was staring straight past me, and I thought he had zoned out completely, till, to my astonishment, he said “You are William and you are my friend”

The boy smiled. “You are James and you are my friend”

James’ eyes started to focus on people instead of the backs of his hands, and he smiled, and once more I was struck by how beautiful he was. “Jill. You are Jill. Rob is gone, and Larinda is here. Why are we here, Jill?”

“People will be playing music, James”

“Do they need CDs? I have CDs. I have one hundred and thirty four”

“No, James, they make their music from scratch. They play their instruments to make it. See? There are guitars, and that’s a flute, and a violin, and…I don’t know what the others are”

I took my time to look at the crowd around Annie, and what struck me was an impression of physical fitness. She herself was in a rather pretty dress, with suede court heels that looked good on her legs, and as I watched the man with her I wondered how I could ever have thought her a dyke. There was another couple, the woman tall and ginger, but the man was just like hers, fit to the point of silliness. It was Annie that began, and the flute was hers.

It wasn’t really my sort of music, I will be blunt, but some of the players were astonishingly good at it, including the ginger woman, and Annie herself. She seemed to be trying to outdo Ian Anderson, and it was a close thing. I kept an eye on James, and what he was doing worried me, swinging the upper half of his body from left to right and back again, but in time with the music. When it stopped, he stopped, and I suddenly realised it was what he thought of as dancing. The young man with Annie was watching him, I saw, when he wasn’t banging away on some odd drum.

Eventually, there came a break, and he came over to us.

“Hi, I’m Darren, yeah, that’s my mum there in the silly shoes, and that’s my girl Chantelle”

“I’m Jill. Your mum’s Annie?”

“Yeah. Not my real mum, yeah, but she’s realer, like”

I led him a little away from James. “James has one or two issues, Darren, so if you want to talk to him, you need to let me introduce you”

I went back to our group. “Who wants another drink? If you are thirsty, tell me”

As his parents watched carefully, James unfolded from inside himself. “I would like a drink please Jill because I am thirsty”

“What would you like, Darren?”

“Coke, yeah? Please”

“I am thirsty so I would like a coke please Jill. You are Darren and I am James”

“I am Darren and you are James”

I looked at him sharply, appreciating his quick understanding. James smiled. “Are you my friend?”

“Yes I am your friend”

“You play your dish thing on its side so all the music can spill out”

That was so deep for James, so typical. He looked at something familiar, and saw it in new ways, like in his bird book. Darren smiled. “Have you ever tried playing music?”

“I have one hundred and thirty four CDs. They play music”

“They are copies of music, like. This is playing music, like what my mum does, an’ Steph over there”

Ah. The one at the airport…Darren was still talking, and he was very calm, and absolutely patient. I caught the pink girl watching him, and her look was so soppy she could have been used to define puppy-dog eyes.

“Would you like to try?”

He held out his drum, his bodhran, to James, who stared at it, then looked across to his mother. Karen just nodded, and Darren sat down beside James and started to talk, quietly and in simple terms, about what his two hands had to do. I left them deliberately alone and went to the bar for their cokes, and when I came back, James was banging softly on the drum with what looked like some sort of wooden sex toy. And he banged, and Darren spoke slowly and softly, and two women, one pink and the other dark-haired, watched him and smiled.

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Comments

Tissue alert!

WOW!!!! You forgot the tissue alert!!
The way how Darren got James just had me in tears! The interaction between the two lads is just impressive.
Thank you for continuing the story of Annie, Jill and all the rest of the gang.

Jessica

I agree!

I'm so glad to see the mad bunch again.

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Music

It's interesting to see the music from a different perspective. In Steph's and Annie's stories, the music was almost a well developed character unto itself. Here, the set barely rates 'good, but not my taste' mention. I suspect it wasn't the music that was different, but the listener.

My cunning plan

Different ears, of course! I mean, there are even people who like rap...

Are there really?

I find it difficult to believe but I suppose if that particular tune appeals ...

I suppose that James may well cope with music as it is to some extent quite mathematical.

Robi

I confess that one of my

I confess that one of my favourite winter holiday songs is Christmas Wrapping by The Waitresses, but that may be a function of age and circumstance. I mostly avoid rap, but when I do hear bits of it, I generally find it not to my taste.

It occurs to me that if Shan is there, Ginny and Kate likely are, too. Would the inclusion of another lesbian couple in Jill's widening social circle reassure Larinda? Or would she see Ginny and wonder if the madness is contagious.

Music ...

Music can be theraputic for a whole host of distressing human conditions. Even when one plays to one's-self far away from any company, it provides companionship without self-consciousness or embarrassment. It's an excellent cure for loneliness.

I used to play my harmonica a lot when en-route down to the Sarir wells in Libya and Algeria. The journey sometimes took three days and two nights if the sand was blowing badly. Nothing more relaxing than sitting cwtched up in my land rover playing my harmonica or tin whistle to myself when driving was pointless because navigation was impossible through the sand sea.

In company it creates bonds between those who enjoy it and choose to stay and share it.

I've heard it said that Motzart's music even calms disturbed kids.

Play on Steph.

Hugs.

Beverly.

XZXX

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Lovely Folk Galore

joannebarbarella's picture

In your stories there are more and more. Many are wounded birds but supply each other with oxygen. I also shed a tear or two reading this chapter, but then I'm a soppy old tart,

Joanne

James and the drum

Podracer's picture

Finding music of his own to spill out.
Heh; soppiness is not exclusive to old tarts. Sniff.

Edit - coincidence. Today at work a random inspiriton hit me, and I recited in my head the "Khartoum" limerick. Then read the "who and what" reference above and sniggered to myself. Goosebumpy though.

All the best, JJ.

"Reach for the sun."