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

Birds fly over the rainbow

Why then, oh why can't I?

If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow

Why, oh why can't I?

As I finished the highest note that was within my limited vocal range I was filled with accomplishment, happy I could now play the song. I may or may not have got it note for note perfect, but it was all I could recall of the music from the movie. Jim would be well pleased I think.

"That. Was. Lovely" Paul wandering in slow clapping and my face was heating to rosy red as fast as I shut the lid. I still smiled at his applause though.

"Too right, never knew you had a voice" John chimed in as he threw his coat on the couch.

"Well she is my sister" Paul touted back.

I sobered up immediately scowling down at the piano keys like they were thieves. Paul stopped clapping and leaned his head to one side, furrowing his forehead with question.

I stood so abruptly the piano stool almost toppling in my haste.

"Sorry about that. I just felt like practicing" I smiled guiltily at Paul, averting my eyes from John's gaze as he strolled into view. "I'll get out of your hair"

And with that I was gone, up the stairs two at a time and door slammed as quietly as I could so it wouldn't make the wall shake and rattle the ceiling plaster. Paul's voice trailed me up the stairs but I ignored his worried tone.

Pillow held to my chest as I sat on the sunflower bedspread, shuffled back against the wall, I fought with my emotions. I didn't want them to get the better of me again.

Hot tears were attempting to flood my eyes and I struggled to hold them back, but sometimes the tide is too strong, too much of a push and shove on the heart to stop.

I sniffled them noisily back as the door opened a sliver. Paul's long fingers grasping the wood were all I could see until he stuck that head of his round, bitting his lip with worry.

"Alright?" Paul spoke worriedly.

I pinched the very top of my nose, tears that threatened to re-invade the corners of my eyes loomed and I huffed. I wasn't 'alright' obviously "oh very fine thank-you" I croaked out with all the sarcasm I could muster.

Paul had the door shut and was across the room, perched on the edge of the bed in seconds. He acted like he was not wanting to invade my space but I could feel him want to at the same time, he tapped his foot with impatience and indecision.

"I'm not very good at this you know; girl's crying an all" Paul did a light haha laugh and I gave him a dead stare.

"You are joking, aren't you" I stared him down, biting down on my own lip now "more tears have been shed in your presence than the amount of water in the ocean"

"Yes, but you see, there isn't an ocean here only a tiny little puddle" Paul swiped gently under my eyes and sure enough two little puddles quivered on his thumbs. "They are very beautiful in the light, look there, a rainbow" The bedroom light had wished a rainbow on the tips of Paul's thumbs. 

"Oh my, you are the romantic" I squished those tears in his hand, they were but moisture ready to burn away with the heat of his body "Jane's a lucky girl"

"You say that so woodenly, so unromantically that I would think you are not in a very romantic sort of mood presently" Paul teetered between happy and sad as he spoke.

"You think.." I countered back, another single tear fell and I swiped at my eye angrily "It's ok now thank you, just a case of mistaken motives"

"Motives?" Paul shuffled back on the bed beside me and sat so close, it was tempting to lean on him for support but I just stayed rigid and stiff. Emotions were for cry-babies and I shouldn't give them the luxury to dwell.

"Motives- one silly delusional person thinking a motive for a kiss was romance and roses, the other thinking it a precursor for just bed and entertainment" I whispered and deciding to lean on his proffered shoulder, taking in all that was offered, a shoulder of a brother.

"What did he do..." Paul spoke through gritted teeth and looked at the door. John was obviously still here and knowing John, hecwas on the other side of the door. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, well not physically if that's what you mean" I sat up again and leaned over for a tissue in the side table "He doesn't even know I know I think"

"Come on spill the beans" Paul shoved me lightly "A trouble shared and all that"

"I was writing up the cards. The passes for your movie premiere. You and Jane, Richard and Mo, Pattie, George and-"

I was cut off, Paul was there now in the place I was, knowing what I knew, he also knew of her. His face said it all.

Gullible Abigail in mushroom shit again.

"Cyn" Paul whispered her nickname but it was sure as the nose on his face he knew everything of Cynthia Powell and I did not have to spell anything out.

I got bit of steel then, shoved it in my spine and went to stand, crawling off the bed in a hurry. I realise I am not on the same playing field as these boys. I shouldn't be here playing at all. Maybe the field I should play is with the under 12's where handholding was as much lovey dovey as you got to.

Paul seemed to know I was steadier now and hugged me tight, I wiggled fingers around under his collar as if to smooth it down but brought him forward for a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"Come in John" I yelled through the door to which he poked his head in, pointing at himself 'who me' mouthed at me as I stepped away from Paul. "Make a cuppa, ta Paul" and he was gone, a dirty look at John, as he drew level, but he left us alone....