If I Fell

~26~

Wasted Days

As soon as I got in the door I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts, a kiss is nothing but a meeting, a more intimate meeting than in a boardroom but still a meeting, ON the fucking LIPs.

I felt silly, stupid and deeply, to the core, immature that afternoon. Prancing through Pauls lovely home, slamming cupboards and doors till I realised I was a fool, a very mad fool, but fool nonetheless.

Taking a shower, rivers of warm water mixed with tears of my silly thoughts of an us, I did the only thing a girl can do- shampoo, conditioner treatment, shave and primp, I gave myself a thorough 'me time' and felt way better for it.

I tumbled back down to the kitchen two hours later, invigorated and vowing to never worry about love. John could be a friend, I would be ok.

Then I sat staring at the mosaic tiles in the centre of the table.

Maybe I knew.

Maybe I knew, ran circling my mind. Deep down did I have an inkling of this. Is that why I was such a wet blanket on his raging fires.

Who was she, were they happy, married or just dating?

Flopping around like a dying fish on the kitchen table wasn't going to help at all.

Tea and sandwich sitting on Paul's favourite stool by the window, staring at the blackbird in the tree, I sang some sad 40's ballads Jim had been teaching me when we played piano together.

I'm in uncharted territory, an explorer questing in the deepest jungles of the amazon right here in suburban St. Johns Wood!

But the jungle is my heart and I'm cutting the thing apart from the inside out to reach fresh clear positive air. I could make a song outta that. Geez now who's delusional.....

Clearing away my dishes, washing Paul's half-finished cereal bowl I found at the front door under a bowler hat, I then headed into the music room, which is directly behind the lounge room presently. Paul was yet to sort where everything was to go.

Currently the upright piano stood touching the wall, just as I walked in, on the left. Lean a bit while playing and you can see everything going on in the loungeroom. A habit Paul seemed to be in lately, especially when I won the Telly channel war.... The piano was played loudly, annoying me know end, him leaning over flashing an evil grin.

I tinkered and found a guitar, settling with it cross legged on the sofa but within minutes of my horrid strumming I gave up, I would have to get Paul to teach me, or perhaps George, he was a willing accomplice when I was trying to antagonise Paul; Paul would definitely get his nose out of joint if George was to teach me. Then who will wear the evil grin - insert evil heckling here HaHa!

The piano lid was up and the ebony and ivory looked inviting, I tapped the keys, the high notes music to my ears, I was gone, I had to play and that I did.

All of Jim's standards over and over til they were perfect, I recalled the notes as if the sheet music was right here on the stand.

Attempting another song, I had yet to get Jim's assistance with, had me cursing and huffing, but when I could get half of it going properly I just had to sing with its beautiful melody.

Someday I'll wish upon a star

And wake up where the clouds are far behind me.

Where troubles melt like lemon drops,

High above the chimney tops,

That's where you'll find me.

Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly