Get It Straight, Or Say Good Night

Time For Cake

They walked in silence. Comfortable, really comfortable, silence. A well-worn shoe from another time..... before the deal, the baby, the hurt.

John had launched from the car at full pelt to jump in a quick shower at Mendips then just as speedily slipped back out the glossy black front door to her, as she waited in the similar coloured, Austin Princess. Mal acting as driver of course.
The gig was an excellent sauna but with no soap for the stench, the sweat it elicited was almost vile in strength. John had been, putting it politely, 'on the nose'.

Lou slipped her smaller hand in his, and John's fingers immediately played with the ring she hadn't bothered to put back in the jewellery box. It was nice. As the car sailed along familar streets, each party pointed out places and friends they used to know..

It all seemed so long ago.

The sunset had faded away to a rosy glow kissing dusk and as they alighted the car John noted there were still a few pedestrians walking about the streets. Thankfully though, in this neighbourhood, which was a posher part of town, they weren't being harassed or chased down, as of yet anyway, by fawning fans. It was getting proper mad all over southern England though, marauding fans hell bent on screaming the house down and wanting their own little slice of Northern pie- A Beatle.

John looked over to Lou strolling beside him. Watching her nibble on her lip, she was nervous. Completely understandable and silly, all at the same time.

This should take time, be worked at slowly but time was no friend in John's life anymore, time was something he was delved second by second. Brian, having divvied up the hours of the day like slices of cake to the hungry, made sure there was nothing but crumbs of fleeting moments left for personal life, if any at all.

Lots of precious time with Lou was required to get it all right, perfectly right. But would he get it. He would try.

The small bistro was up ahead, close to the barber shop that had all the 'in' photographs of mens 'style' in the window. When John and the lads had started the moptop haircut they went there for quick trim once, to get the length just right. This geezer, the barber, had run them off down the street quick smart.

Brian had recommended this particular restaurant come bistro as it had a pleasant ambience, and was suitable for John's purposes- quiet yet not so posh they both hunkered down in their chairs in fright. He wanted a first date type evening, nothing too heavy.

No bonking or even necking, though he was, of course, open to both eventualities.

The waiter presented their menu, which they shared and Lou ran a digit down the list.

The candles were very nice. Set centre table in pretty little vases but every flicker, every single flutter caused her to recall the past, the night she revealed all her hurt and worry to John so dredging up the night it happened too.

A big difference was a candle to the zebra-like flickers of light which flashed across John's features that fateful night on the hill, but the mind is a funny thing.

Lou beckoned the waiter and got him to snuff the candles and take the pair away.

"Too much?" John nodded to the retreating back of the waiter.

"Whats too much?"

"Too try hard romantic?" John set the menu aside and took his glasses off, rubbing his nose, then face, tiredly. Lou fetched his glasses from his fingers, grabbed her napkin and cleaned them deftly, they were covered in fingerprints.

John's glasses were always, always covered in fingerprints.

"No.... It just made me remember something I would rather not, a bit silly I suppose" Lou popped his glasses on his face and grinned, trying to divert the conversation but she needed to explain as much for him, as for herself "It made me remember the hill....how silly is that" The hollowness and fears came tumbling with her words and she felt a pang in her heart recalling the night once again.