Quicklinks:
|
Great Writing - Home > Short S. > A New Era.
| READING ROOM | ||||
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
| COMMUNITY | |||
|---|---|---|---|
|
| ABOUT GREAT WRITING | ||
|---|---|---|
|
| WORK AWAITING REVIEW |
|---|
|
| GW IS... |
|---|
|
Great Writing creative writing community is designed to prompt ideas
and provide inspiration and motivation within aspiring and amateur
authors. Whatever your topic; from love poetry to Doctor Who or Harry
Potter fan fiction, Great Writing's online writing group is where you
can make new friends and improve your creative writing. |
| WHO'S ONLINE |
|---|
| We have 1380 guests online and 8 members online |
Shorts
| print friendly version | |
| A New Era. | |
| By BrianRobertNeal | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
| 21 August 2006 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
This is a follow up to the story "End of an Era."
In just three months I’ve managed to lose a mistress, a wife and a home. Not bad for someone known for their cautiousness. I can’t take all the credit, the motive force being my Employer deciding to “down-size” their operation. All branches, depots and offices were shut and what was left was to go to a “Prestige Premier Site” located in a West London semi-derelict twilight zone Industrial Estate. Mind, I now have a palatial suite “over the shop”. The other flat above the office block is occupied by the site handyman/caretaker. And finally I’ve lost my company car as there will be no “Commercial Travelling.” How did I lose my Mistress? I broke the news of the move to her and wondered whether we should call it a day. I had wanted her to say that we could work it out. But she didn’t. She said nothing. We’d driven in her car to one of our trysting places. The return journey to where I’d left my car was made in silence. I was thrown out and she’d driven off like a Fury. I’d tried to phone her on her Mobile but there was no answer for she’d switched it off. I’d thought that it was probably for the best. Only months later did I realise that we’d both turned our phones off as we had been in a “hide” in a bird sanctuary. How did I lose my wife? Well, she phoned me on my first day in London, not to wish me good luck but to tell me she wanted a divorce. How did I lose my Home? The next day I received a letter from her solicitor offering me £250k for my share of the house and in consideration for me not contesting the divorce. The lack of children had doomed our marriage and her attempts to access ilicit extra-mural fertilisation had failed. I’d never intended to be adulterous however from the moment I met my songbird and her Red Golf GTI, I was enchanted. She was incredibly talented, she sang and played keyboards. I’d go for a drink in one of the Pubs where she performed. On request nights it would always end with me going up on stage and doing duets with her. She has a fine Alto Voice and I’m a tolerable Tenor. Her drummer's gay and fancied me, but then his boyfriend played base, so I was safe. We always had to do, “The best part of breaking up”. The boys came on board on that number and the harmonies were so tight. When it was all over between the pair of us, just before I left to go to London, I visited them at a Gay Bar where they were part of a “Queen” tribute band. It was a lunchtime gig and I caught them outside having a quick cigarette. To my surprise they were both very emotional, they’d miss me, but I wasn’t to worry for they’d look after her. I’d got dragged into the club and onto its stage. I was introduced as their favourite straight and they informed the audience that I’d just lost the love of my life. We did “Breaking Up”; the band busked around the three of us. It felt so empty as a three part harmony; bass, baritone and tenor, I was haunted by the missing Alto part. The journey to London was a tear stained blur. On the bright side the flat was fantastic, as long as you did not look out the windows. The Job was a doddle, all the Company was doing was keeping up a façade of activity and though we had a compliment of 30+ clerical staff, we were really waiting for an offer from the Developer who was to find out that our property sat across the only acceptable route onto the A40M. The Handyman/Caretaker was the former Technical Director and I had been the Sales Director. So I always had someone to go on the booze with. As at night you could only walk the streets around the Estate if you either had an armed guard or a “death wish”, I finally decided to buy a car. I went to a local auction, and there it was, a Red Golf GTI badged as a “2L. Nobody wanted it. It had had the odd bump, the back seat was stained and there was a bad cigarette burn on the front passenger’s seat. All that was missing was her. I bought it “for a song” and paid to have it delivered to our offices. I returned and made arrangements re tax and Insurance. My neighbour always went home for the weekend, going off Thursday Night and coming back Tuesday Morning. So he was quite OK when I asked if I could do the same for it meant that he could legitimately miss a family wedding in Truro. His wife was delighted, she would leave the kids with her mum; come down and have dirty weekend with her husband. Thus it was that I found myself driving back to my Home Town late Friday afternoon. But I wasn’t going home, but to the Pub just round the corner from it, where she’d be performing. I ignored the car park and drove round to where the drays delivered. I locked the car and stood out of sight. Twenty minutes later she came out for a fag as I knew she would. She saw the car and ran over to it. I flicked the car key and the Headlights Flashed and the Indicators Winked. She turned toward me and I just ran to her and grabbed her. No words were exchanged. But when we finally broke apart she informed me that that was for the car and I should not get carried away. She added that your wife is in the audience tonight with her new man and his friends. So there was an extra poignancy, when I got up onstage and did a set with the band. We couldn’t have been any good as my ex-wife and entourage go up and left. But it went down well with those who remained. I’d for once touched lucky as the band were breaking up. She’d had enough and wanted to get out of the rut she was in. I invited her down to London, to live with me. She’d accepted on condition that she wouldn’t have to marry me or do all the cooking. She’d given up her rented house and had been living on a grace and favour basis in the Pub. It took the four of us little time to hook up the equipment trailer and load her keyboard and PA into it. Her other possessions were easily fitted into the Golf. I asked her where her car was, and was told that it had been repossessed as she couldn’t keep up with the Hire Agreement’s payments. She’d admitted that she’d lost a few gigs because she was putting a bit of a weight on and getting frowsy. We made our farewells to one and all and then drove back to London. Oh yes she had to drive, lucky I’d taken out self and spouse Insurance cover. When conversation started to lag, we both having told each other everything that had happened since we parted, she suddenly said, “I’m so glad you came back for me and from the way it’s kicking, so is our baby”. "The best part of breaking up is when you're making up."-(Phil Spector.)
Only registered users can rate and write comments. Powered by AkoComment 2.0! |
||||||||||||||||||||||||
 Previous item
|
Next item
|
|---|