‘A
Day in the Life of a Head Fairy’
‘Ah,
you’ve arrived. I was wondering when you’d get here. His
Lordship’s on the phone. Have a listen.
‘Of
course I love you.’
‘Tonight.
I’m not sure.’
‘Okay,
give me a call when you’re ready.’
I
know what that’s about. She wants a lift back from the nightclub,
wants us parked up outside, him panting like a faithful hound. And
then he’ll drive to their country lane, get in the back of the car
and claim his kiss and fumble reward. His candy time. I’m serious.
That’s what he calls it. Give me a second. I just need to whisper a
couple of one liners.
‘Tell
her you’re busy…Get a life…Hang up.’
He
never listens, but I can’t ignore it. It’s not all tinsel and
wings in this job. They like you to earn your keep. Hang on a minute.
He’s by the mirror now, putting on his designer suit and a splash
of Kouros. I’ll give him a few more prods.
‘Stick
your jeans and sweatshirt on…She won’t care as long as you’ve
got the car...You’re already on a promise.’
That
last one made him think. I might use that again. It’s all a bit
trial and error this fairy game and I’m still on probation, still
learning the ropes. Fair enough. We’ve all got to start somewhere
and it’s not as though there’s a rule book. It all depends on
your host and my man’s riddled to his core with love. It’s sweet,
all nice and cosy for a while until it turns on you. And that’s
when you need me. It’s not easy. It’s me versus the deadliest
virus known to the human race and the only weapon they’ve given me
is a few seed of doubt bombs. You know the sort of thing: What ifs?
What abouts? It’s all garbage, but it’s amazing what happens when
those babies get planted inside your head.
*
Oh
good. You’re back. I’m down here on the driver’s seat. It was
all getting a bit grunt, grind and groan back there. I had to get out
of his head for a break. I bet you’re wondering why the back of a
car. Simple answer, they still live with their parents. Kids, just
turned eighteen. Young love, the most virulent strain of the disease.
Mind you, sometimes it gets worse with age.
Something
different happened tonight. We pulled up outside the club. She was
waiting. They did their usual kiss and reach-for-the-bucket hello:
‘I
love you.’
‘I
love you too.’
‘I
love you more.’
I
settled back and waited for him to pull away, but she reached across
and put her hand on his knee. ‘There’s something I need to tell
you,’ she said.
Well,
that woke me up. The big kiss off. It was finally going to happen. I
whispered a ‘she’s dumping you’ message for good measure. But
this is what she said: ‘I want you to come with me to the club. I
want us to be a proper couple.’
Now,
don’t judge me, but I might have given you the wrong impression.
You see, my man’s not exactly Mr Sociable. He goes through the
motions, offers to do lots of things, but he doesn’t expect her to
say yes. I’d have bet my pension he wouldn’t agree, but then, and
this is really irritating, he smiled his bubble-gum smile, the one
that always disengages his brain, and said, ‘I’ll try. I miss
you.’
She
threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.
I
pitched a ‘What
are you doing?’ at him, but, to be honest, my heart wasn’t in it
and it was pretty obvious I couldn’t compete with her strawberry
lip gloss and white musk perfume. I’ll bide my time, though, wait
until he’s in the club, wait until he’s doing his gangly, dad
dancing…
‘Hello.’
Oh,
my God, there’s a girl sitting in the passenger seat. Dewy, almond
eyes, drawing me in like a magnet.
‘Who
are you?’
‘I’m
Becky, madam’s head fairy.’
She’s
looking up at me, her red hair cascading down her back.
‘Who
are you talking to?’
This
isn’t fair. I’m over all that. I’ll take a deep breath, try to
dampen down the hammer of my pulse. Can you hear it? I’m sure she
can hear it.
One Last Shot by Stephen Anthony Brotherton
CAN FIRST LOVE
EVER BE REIGNITED?
One Last Shot
concludes the trilogy of Freddie and Jo-Jo, which has moved through
time in a series of flashbacks, showing how the couple fell in love
as teenagers, why they drifted apart, what happened in their lives
away from each other, and what happens when they meet up again over
three decades later. At the end of the second book, An Extra Shot,
Jo-Jo tells Freddie about her dark secret. Confused, vulnerable and
in a state of shock, he says he needs time to think about what to do
next. Jo-Jo’s right to be worried. Freddie doesn’t react well...
I
was born in Walsall, grew up in the West Midlands and now live in
Telford with my two cats, Boris and Tai.
After working in the health and social care sector for over thirty years, I have now written the trilogy that has been rooted in my head for most of my life.
The Shots trilogy is based on a first love relationship I had as a teenager. It tells the story of Freddie and Jo-Jo, who are reunited in a coffee shop three decades after the end of their teenage romance. How they originally met, why they parted, what happens in their lives apart, and what happens when they reunite is all told through a series of first person vignettes.
Getting these stories down on paper has been a cathartic process. I hope you enjoy them.
After working in the health and social care sector for over thirty years, I have now written the trilogy that has been rooted in my head for most of my life.
The Shots trilogy is based on a first love relationship I had as a teenager. It tells the story of Freddie and Jo-Jo, who are reunited in a coffee shop three decades after the end of their teenage romance. How they originally met, why they parted, what happens in their lives apart, and what happens when they reunite is all told through a series of first person vignettes.
Getting these stories down on paper has been a cathartic process. I hope you enjoy them.
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@freddiejojoreunited
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@FreddieJoJo1
