New Art

A week had passed in a blur of semi-conscious 'bliss'. John said I was high as a kite and some days I felt it, thinking I could walk on water. Almost. The aches and pains were horrid at times.

Paul opened the front door and the gatebirds screamed, he waved an arm like a Messiah and they all shut up, it was bloody incredible. John walked me slowly forward to the door, I held his sleeve, hobble more than walk, my feet was still devoid of skin in many places and felt tight like leather. I'm so glad one was better than the other though.

"Look" Paul titled his head, grinning at the centre of the yard right in front of the door.

I suppose it looked like a new wave, art deco thing. I nodded, pretending that I thought it worth the hundred pounds he must have wasted on it, and he laughed at my displeasure.

At a mere metre or two square, a big box of metal, that's all I saw, but to both the gallery owner and Paul, it must have been beautiful.

"It's very nice Paulie but maybe it belongs back in the louvre', not in a suburban courtyard in St. Johns Woods" It was bloody hideous, but what do I know.

John stood outside now leaning on the thing.

"So, what do you really think of it?" Paul crowed, rocking back and forth on his heels like he'd just got the deal of the century.

"It's very art deco with a hint of Rembrandt in the lines. I don't fucking know, do I" Oh my god they burst their sides at my description, I need more narcotics (apparently my pain meds have those in them- lucky me). I had been short with them all week and my swearing was coming along nicely so they said. I tried again "Da Vinci?"

"What colour is it Abbs?" John hollered kicking the bottom of the very hard looking statue thing.

"Are you blind?" I was quickly tiring of looking upon this lump of new age 'art'.

"No, you are. Now, what colour is it luv? Amuse me" John stood on the bottom step and I looked over his shoulder back at the monstrosity, I mean art piece. I wrinkled my nose up even more thinking how to respond.

"Errrr dark green, bits of metal, a steel grey colour, some black. Oh, it's a bloody upside down Satanic rainbow" I see it clearly now, not.

"Good try but no ......What was green that used to sit in the yard?" Paul inquired softly.

"Oh my god"

"Yep"

"You chopped that bloody tree down, the one I like, over in the corner. Geez give you an inch you take a mile, Paul"

"It's not a bloody tree Abbs, there's metal!"

"So.... you didn't chop the nice tree down?"

"No"

"Good I would have burnt your Hofner if you 'ad"

"The courtyard Abigail" Paul turned to face the box again.

"It's no use Macca, she's lost it somewhere between Swindon and 'ere" John stepped up to me a tad bored with the banter by the sounds of it.

"Don't you say I've lost it, Winston" I stomped and immediately cringed. Sore foot, must remember your sore foot, Abigail.

Then Johns words made me see the light. "Oh bloody 'ell, no. Say it isn't" I clung to John and he helped me to the non-artist piece in the yard and I stared back up at Paul "You wouldn't dare" I touched the green, flabbergasted.

"If this is what I think it is, and it's here to mock me for ever more..." I started back up the steps "... I will spank your hide McCartney"

"So, it's finally dawned has it" John poked me in the side gently.

"Help me John, fetch the shovel so I can murder the little shit" I painfully hobbled but I was moving forward, up the stairs toward Paul. Stopping beside him.

"And it is....." Paul still wanted his moment of sunshine.

"Shovel John.....Now! It's the bloody Aston Martin you horrid, nasty evil little boy" I slapped and pinched his arm and went slowly through to the kitchen "I'm hungry, make me lunch!" Laughter followed me the whole entire way.