Summer Of '75 (Roger Taylor/Queen)

Chapter 8

Amelia's P.O.V.

After what ended up feeling like a somewhat long walk, Roger and I finally arrived at the main pub in the village, The Star. It was a quaint, old country inn with a homely ambiance, which deemed popular amongst the locals. This became apparent when we stepped through the front entrance to see the place absolutely heaving with people, the smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke filling our noses as soon as we entered the room. Gesturing toward the small booths opposite the bar, I made my way through the crowd of punters with Roger following closely behind, waving to a few people who I recognised, whilst hoping to find a seat. Luckily, there was one empty booth up ahead so we made sure to claim it before anyone else did. I sat down on one of the leather cushioned seats and Roger sat down on the other opposite me.

After making myself comfortable, Roger leaned over the table and asked me loud enough so I could hear him over the other everyone talking, 'What are you drinking? I'm buying.'

I looked at him surprised, 'What? No, don't be silly, I'll pay for mine myself.'

'No, no, I'm getting the drinks in - no arguments.' he insisted.

I grinned, 'Well in that case, I'll have a gin and tonic, please.'

Roger smiled back, tapping the table, 'Coming right up.' before getting to his feet and heading to the bar.

Whilst he ordered our drinks, I watched Roger intently as he stood there leant against the counter. He had his back to me but I could still see the side profile of his face as he waited patiently until the barman asked what he wanted. Not long after he'd given his order, a youngish man, maybe in his late 20s or early 30s, approached Roger and greeted him, the two exchanging a friendly handshake before entering small conversation. Not being able to hear over the noise of people talking, I couldn't make out what they were saying but I soon gathered that the young man was obviously a fan of Roger's, as he took out a small notebook and a pen and handed to him. Roger scribbled something into the book and gave it back, the two of them shaking hands one last time before the man walked away and rejoined his group of friends. By this point, the bartender had placed the drinks on the counter, which Roger handed over the money for. He brought them back to our booth and placed them down on the table.

'Sorry about the wait.' he apologised, sitting back down on his seat.

'No, not at all,' I assured, 'You were talking to fan back there, I presume?'

'Yeah, nice lad. Name was Matthew. He told me he attended our show in Southampton last November, and that it was the best concert he's ever been to.'

'Aw, that's nice of him to say.' I smiled. 'It's funny - I have to keep reminding myself that I'm having a drink with one quarter of Queen. Who would have thought it?'

Roger shrugged, 'I'm just a normal guy. I'm surprised you said yes, I would have thought you'd have been used to rockstars asking you out on dates, the amount of bands that stay at Ridge Farm?'

I chuckled, 'Not really. I'm not there most of the time anyway, what with university and the new job in London. I just happened to be home when you guys arrived.'

'That was good timing.' Roger commented, taking a sip from his pint of lager.

'So, how are you enjoying your stay here at Rusper on the whole?' I asked, also taking a sip of my drink.

'It's been wonderful so far. Staying at the farm has been great, I mean the facilities you have in the recording studio are just what we need. It's good to have a break from the restless lives that we normally lead as well. It won't last, though - it'll be back to the madness before we know it.'