Got To Be Good-looking ('cause he's so hard to see)

~27~

John

Philosophical Clare kicked me out.
I had been dozing on the couch as she cleared away the clutter.

I was sent packing with a half of the remaining bread, six muffins and a grin, pretty good haul, I do believe.

The day was already upon us when I left and she said for me to follow the sun, nothing was ever so ironic, she said that and slay 'I call your name' all in one visit. Mama Cass would be proud, wonder how the bird is, she's in London somewhere. I heard rumour she was going to hit the London Palladium for a stint soon. I should call her while I'm here.

The drive to McCartney's farm was better today I knew the road, sorted the gates and finally shuffled into the kitchen laying down the bread and muffins on the table, many hands flew and I was left with a crust.

"You- cooking in the cottage?" Linda smiled breaking half of the muffin and passing it to Paul "That would be a great name for a cooking show"

"Cooking in the Cottage with John" Paul stood and fetched a couple of beers, it was very early and I raised an eyebrow toward Linda, she shrugged in indifference, so we cracked them open. "Nah that wouldn't work, the John bit wrecks it"

"Funny ha ha" I sank down and Stella decided I was her new friend, hopping on my lap, old mates we were "The neighbour made the muffins, I helped with the bread"

Linda's eyes flew up and held mine, searching me for clues of the neighbour.

"Oh yeah... is she nice?" Linda questioned as Paul looked at me and shrugged, flicking a crust out the window for one of the menagerie of animals.

"Who said it's a she" I sank another gulp of beer and sat playing with the label.

"Well she... is cooking" Linda stated as she stood and placed a full kettle on the stove, the rustic amenities were bare and the floor needed new covering but they were genuinely happy, really happy. Free.

"Guys bake, John made the bread" Paul offered up as he reached for the stuffed toy giraffe Stella dropped on the floor.

Linda was still staring me down, trying to break the resolve of being quiet about the guitar girl, she surely would be in my ear knowing a single female was metres from my door. I could say she has a limp and is eighty, I guess.

"Yes Linda, the baker of the muffins is indeed female" I watched Linda pour, calculating her words for best to knife me.

"Single, old, young, pretty, big, little, beautiful, tall, short, eye colour?"

"Geez Linda, ask me something else" I rolled my eyes at Paul and must have done something with my face to set him off... he turned toward me fully.

Oh no, I've outed me self, he of all people knows the drill.

"I say she is....... pretty, young-ish..." Paul turned my head straight on to him, checking eye dilation no doubt. "creative...... feisty! When do I meet her!"

"Paul!" Linda shouted and Stella cover her ears.

"Mummy don't upset the babe" Paul pouted then laughed "Kidding love, I can meet her thought, yeah?"

"No she's leaving..." I stood and found the bin saying the little white lie as I moved about "...today actually, pity" I mulled as Linda placed a tea on the table for herself.

"Really?" Linda looked up at me with a strange smile, questioning and asking me to prove something. I do not know what "Today, that is a pity, isn't it, I could use some female company"