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Shorts
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| End of an era | |
| By BrianRobertNeal | ||||||||||||||
| 22 August 2006 | ||||||||||||||
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I thought I'd posted this here, but I'd not. A New Era is a coda to this tale so I thought that i ought to post it. She’d been dreading this day. They both knew that it was unavoidable but this made it no easier. She decided that she ought to say something, but wasn’t too sure what. She went out to them and after a short moment during which they both kept a frigid silence, she decided to break the ice. “I thought that I ought to explain to you why you have got to go.” They just stood there quiet and withdrawn. “Look it’s not me, it’s the contract. If I keep you on any longer, I will have to pay the agency a lump sum and take you on permanently.” She was not getting through. “I’d like to say that I have really enjoyed having you on board. I have done everything to avoid this. The Contract’s three years were up last March and here we are in November. That’s an extra eight months and I know that the agency will find you a new home.” They did not look consoled. “We have had some laughs, do you remember when we had to get to a gig and we drove round and round and in sheer desperation pulled into the grottiest pub we’d ever seen. I went out and found this was the venue we were looking for. We’ve been to some places and seen a lot of strange things.” Their silence was becoming unbearable “I’ll miss you. You are always so bright and reliable not like some I’ve had in the past. I’ve never had any problems and would recommend you to anyone” Why was she getting so upset? For God’s sake it’s only a bloody car! Yes but not just any car. He’d been in that car. She’d seduced him in that car. It’s all she’s got left that has “him” in it. He would never come to her place, it was always Hotels. They’d met in a Pub Car Park. She’d just picked the Golf up and this man came over and said, “Excuse me is that a GTI because it’s got a 2L badge, but the wheels are wrong.” She’d said, “It’s a GTI but they come “badged down. I’ve got the GTI badge in the glove box.” He’d continued, “What a lovely shade of red. What’s it like to drive?” She’d pushed things along and had said, “Hop in and we’ll go out onto the by pass and do a loop on the inner-ring road.” He didn’t know what to say, but she knew the look in his eyes. It wasn’t just lust; it was that soppy look that men get when they are starting to fall in love. She’d noticed his wedding ring, but she really just wanted to show her new car off to somebody who’d appreciate it. She’d driven like a demon and at times he’d looked quite ashen. When they’d got back and got out of the car he’d said “Well thank you for the experience but I don’t think that I shall ever need an enema again.” Once again she’d pushed things saying, “Well you can buy us a drink: to say thank you to me and to settle your nerves.” In the Pub she’d found out everything she’d needed to know. She in turn had told him that she was a semi-professional musician and had a regular spot at a Pub just a few minutes walk from where he lived. Every Friday night she backed local singers and on Sunday Lunch Time she played background music in the Restaurant. So can you imagine how she felt when on the next Friday he was in the audience. She couldn’t bear to remember the six months they were together apart from moments in her car. They’d made love in her car. There’s this fag burn on the seat. She’d grabbed him, kissed him then slid her hand inside his trousers and he’d dropped his cigarette in surprise. She could clearly remember the last time she saw him. They’d gone out to the Bird Sanctuary. There was a “Twitcher’s” Cabin that nobody used as it was badly sited and awkward to get to. You could make love and watch for would be interlopers at the same time; that is if you did doggies. They’d sat afterwards in silence. She’d asked him, “What’s the matter, are you tiring of me.” He’d answered, “No, but my firm are re-organising. We are closing down all local offices and I am to go to London to run the new centralised admin set up. I think we are going to have to call it a day.” All she could say was, “I’d better take you back. I’m not saying anything. I hate good byes.” They’d driven back to where he’d left his car and she’d dropped him off. She’d refused to kiss him. He’d got out and she’d driven straight off. On the journey home she’d kept hoping that he’d phone but he never did. She never saw him again. She and the car had gone back to all the haunts. The car park where they first met and the one they’d made love in. She’d even had lunch in the Hotel that they’d used. There were no photographs of him he for refused to give her any. He would not take any of those that she offered him. So he has nothing of her but she had the car. And now that’s going. She wished she could go with the it! She thought -Well I shall. She got a hosepipe from the Garage and pushed one end onto the exhaust pipe; then took the other end and pushed it through the partly open passenger’s door’s window. She got into the car and closed the window with the button in the door’s armrest. The window closed on the pipe and then stopped and dropped down to the fully open position. She shouted “Bugger” then tried it again but this time when it happened she burst out laughing and shouted out “You complete wanker can’t you do anything right!” She got out of the car put the hose back in the garage, closed the window and locked the doors with the remote; the car flashed its lights and blinked its indicators.
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