[Romantic Old Bird]

This all stems from a dream ROB experienced after a late night chat with a fellow lunatic poster on this site. She knows who she is……………………………….


Scene: A Café/Bar somewhere in Ibiza. Late Summer 2003

It’s 2am in the busy little place, which is presently somewhat dominated by a loud and merry group of friends from Munchen Gladbach.

In the centre of the bar, on a small raised podium, the resident musician sighs as he completes his haunting rendition of Rodriguez Guitar Concerto number one, and pauses to acclaim the scattered applause of the few people close enough to hear him over the cacophony of noise in the bar.

‘How about playing something gut now?’
came a shout from the back of the club.

‘Ja! How about, a David Hasselhof number?’

‘Yeah mate, you wish!’
came a disembodied voice from the other side.

‘ Yeah, that’s enough of that shite, how about ‘Three Lions’? eh? 4:1, 4:1, 4:1, 4:1……………..’

‘This is unreal’ , thought the guitarist,
‘I am an artist. Just how did I end up here?’

Suddenly he became aware of someone walking up behind him.

‘How about DeLuxe Dean?’, came a whisper in his ear.

Dean looked round, and was amazed to see Helen, resplendant in a simple, figure hugging and faintly glittering black dress, standing right beside him.

‘Bloody hell, Helen, what are you doing here? I mean, it’s lovely to see you, but, I didn’t expect to find you here, never in a million years!’

‘Yeh well, we’ve all done a few things we never thought we would Dean. What are you doing yere, playing yere? ‘

asked Helen, sitting down beside him on a stool, ignoring the wolf-whistles from the crowd.

‘It’s a long story H. I mean, things just happen, don’t they? I was in between gigs, Vanessa's airline is on this run anyway, and Paul needed someone to play here, and I thought, you know, why not?’ said Dean. ‘But this in here lot today…’

‘How is he Dean? How is Mr Clarke?’ asked Helen

‘He’s not good, Helen - it’s been re-ally bad for him. To be honest, he really doesn’t need to see you right now. I mean, he’s just getting back on his feet again, after a year.’

‘Does he hate me?’ asked Helen, ‘No, don’t answer that. I know he must. I would, if I was him, I would’.

‘He doesn’t hate you, he says it really ‘cool’ that you, and you know, ‘him’ have sorted out your differences said Dean.

‘Does he think that’s what it was?’ asked Helen

‘What else would he think?’ said Dean.

'He knows you were going to see the bloke, and then the very next day, I mean, you just didn’t turn up.’

‘Oh don’t Dean, if I could just explain…… ‘
said Helen, sadly and helplessly………….

‘Listen Helen, you don’t need to explain to me, you know! He was humiliated, poor bloke. The photo’s in Hello, of him standing, waiting, he just had to leave the country……….’
said Dean, looking up to find the crowd were now getting restless for entertainment.

‘You gone on strike man? Play something for us!’, boomed a Geordie voice near the podium.

‘Play it Dean!’ said Helen. ‘Play De-Luxe for me.’

‘I can’t Helen, I promised I wouldn’t’

‘You can Dean, you can, do it for me. la-dida-deda-deda, la-deda dedaaaaaa’

‘Alright, just this one time, he’s not here anyway, I’ll play it once for you’ , said Dean, strumming his way into the introduction.

Helen slipped back off the podium, sat down on a stool by the bar, closed her eyes and swayed from side to side, letting the music wash over her.

‘Lush’ she murmured, ‘He’s my bow-ow-oat on an open sea, he is one, he is me, if I…….’.

She stopped, opened her eyes and looked at Dean enquiringly. His hand was still against the frets, and he was staring out of the gloom of the bar, towards the bright lights outside. She felt her neck tingle in anticipation as she looked across to see the outline of a figure framed against the door. Dean was unable to stop himself from turning back to where he knew she was sitting.

The figure slowly turned to follow Dean’s gaze and looked across at her. She gasped involuntarily, and felt in that instant as if all the air had been had been squeezed out of her. Even across a room, in the darkness, through the haze and the maze of people, ……Paul Clarke! Oh, she could feel him looking at her, through her! Every fibre of her body, every cell, willed her to run across to him.

Paul narrowed his eyes, as if to reassure himself that what he had seen was real. He smiled, shook his head and drew deeply on his cigarette. He removed it from his mouth and exhaled very, very, slowly. ‘Of all the bar joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she had to walk into mine’. he said, to no-one in particular, as he walked towards Dean.

‘Listen mate, I didn’t want to, I mean, I knew you wouldn’t like me to, but she really wanted to hear it’, said Dean.

‘Hey, Dean, listen it’s your song. I don’t have any right to ask you not to sing it. I was completely out of order.’ said Paul, sitting down beside him. He looked across at the bar stool, then stood to look around the crowded bar. Helen had gone.

‘Oh God, did you see where she went Dean?’ asked Paul

‘No, I didn’t. Sorry. She seemed, you know, really sad. She seemed much more grown up as well’, Dean responded.

‘You know she never even said goodbye, never came back for her clothes’.

‘I know mate, I know’ said Dean

‘I was completely gutted. I couldn’t imagine life without her. Did she say why she was here?’ asked Paul

‘No, there wasn’t time, I had to start singing again, my set wasn’t over. It isn’t over now. Shall I ask Trev to put on a cd?’

‘No, you started to sing it, so sing it Dean.’

‘No Paul, I don’t think so, you don't really want to hear it’.

‘You played it for her, now play it for me. Play it Dean’

‘OK bossman, calm down.’ Dean closed his eyes, and started to sing again.

‘…straightens my lapels, says it’s easily done……..’

Paul walked slowly towards the door, and looked out at the crowds as they laughed and stumbled their way along the seafront. After a few moments he turned, shouted to attract the barman’s attention, and threw his keys back across to him. ‘Lock up for me Trev’, he shouted.

‘OK Paul, cheers mate!’ said Trev, effortlessly catching them before returning to cheerfully polish the glasses, oblivious to the drama around him.

Paul walked out of the bar, through the crowds, bumping heedlessly into them.

‘Oooy, what’s your game?’ shouted one of them after him, but Paul walked on blindly towards the water’s edge. ‘Ere, Kev, int that the bloke wot was on Big Brother, him that was always in the den with that Helen?’

‘Yeah, I reckon it was. She left him you know, at the church!’ said Kev.

‘Poor sod. Oh well, where shall we go now?’ he asked, already disinterested as they staggered further along.

Paul looked along the beach and out to sea. He was shaken. He had thought he was getting over it, but now he could feel her, taste her. She was somewhere close, and he knew he wanted to be with her, no matter what the cost, no matter how much it hurt.

‘Hello Mr Clarke’. He heard her voice and found to his surprise that he was suddenly crying. He knew the tears were pouring silently down his cheeks as he turned around, but it didn’t matter. He had to see her.

‘You look beautiful H’ he said simply. It was enough.

‘You look rough’ she said, looking at him with compassion.

‘Don’t worry about me, I’m fine, I’m fine mate’, he replied.

‘I don’t think you are Paul, and I don’t blame you. I hurt you didn’t I?’ asked Helen.

‘I’d be lying if I said you didn’t. I would be lying. I was absolutely gutted. I didn't know what I'd done wrong. I thought it was what you wanted. The wedding, Hello, everything’ said Paul

‘It was Paul, it really was but…..’

‘Was it him H, was it seeing him?’ asked Paul, not really wanting to hear her answer.

‘It was’ she answered.

‘Right’ said Paul, reaching for another cigarette as a wave of nausea overwhelmed him. ‘Fair enough. After all, I can’t really talk can I? I did the dirty on him. If it’s what you want, fair do’s. So why come here now? Is he with you?’

‘No Paul, no, he’s never been ‘with’ me,’ she replied.

‘Then why, why, did you do that to me?’ said Paul . ‘I don’t understand, I thought we were going to be together forever.’

‘It’s a long time Paul’

‘Forever? Yeah, that’s the idea. I wanted that’.

‘Did you really Paul?’

‘I thought you did!’ he said

‘But I didn’t think you did really. I talked to him and he asked me if I thought I was being fair to you, marrying you. I thought, he’s right, I’m not being fair. Mr Clarke hasn’t had no choice. So I left. I done it for you Paul Clarke, I done it for you. Anyway, I’ve got to go now’, said Helen.

‘Why, who are you with?’

‘I’m with Rhoda and Paul and Robyn and Jackson. We been staying over the other side of the island’.

‘Right’

‘We got to go home today. Later today I mean’

‘Right’

‘So I’ll go then’

‘You better’

‘Oh, Paul.....’

He moved back quickly as she stepped towards him. ‘Night then,’ he said.

He stubbed out his cigarette in the sand, looked up at her, turned sadly and walked away.

Helen sighed and made her way back to the little hire car to begin her journey back to her hotel and out of his life forever.

The airport, that evening, at 11pm.

‘Will all passengers for RY 610, the 23.40hours flight to Cardiff please go to gate number 7’, boomed the tannoy.

‘That’s it then’, said Helen ‘Let’s go’.

‘Oh, Helen, did you really talk to him?’ asked Rhoda.

‘I tried, I tried to, but I haven't got any right to ask him to listen.. I really hurt him Rhoda. He was cryin’. Love him. ‘

‘You’ve got to go back, talk to him again, get a later flight!’

‘No, I can’t, I just can’t’, said Helen sadly.

Rhoda looked past Helen's shoulder at a figure running towards them.

‘Turn round Helen,’ said Rhoda

‘Why, what’s going on?’

A voice behind her said, ‘You just can’t what Helen?’

Helen turned around to see Paul, still gasping for breath from his run across the airport.

‘Paul!’, she cried

‘H.............’

‘Oh Paul, you came!’

‘You knew I would’

‘But how?’

‘I phoned your mum’

‘Did you?’

‘Yeah, I did. And she said ‘about bloody time’.

‘She never!’

‘She bloody did, and I told her, I said you’re right Lizzie’

‘Did you? Why?’

‘Because I had to’

‘You had to?’

‘Yeah, because I knew, when I saw you I knew’

‘Knew what?’

‘Last call for passengers on the RY 610, 23.40hrs flight to Cardiff. Please go to gate number 7 now’, boomed the tannoy.

‘ I knew that if I didn’t, I would regret it. Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but soon, and for the rest of my life. Come here Helen. We have to be together.’

‘Oh Paul, can we just go back to Hadley Wood?’

‘It’s waiting for you H. Like I’ve been waiting’.

‘Rhoda?’ said Helen, turning to to her friend.

‘I know Helen’ she replied. 'I know'.

‘We’ll be back soon’

‘I’m so happy for you both. We'll see you back home’

‘Bye Rhoda, bye Paul, Robyn, Jackson, Bye’ she waved, as they disappeared through the gate.

‘Bloody hell, Paul Clarke!’ shouted Helen.

‘What’s the matter H?’

‘I ain’t got no bloody clothes, nothing, they’re all on that plane!’

‘So for starters, you’ll have to sleep in the buff!’

‘That’s not so bad then……’ said Helen, laughing as they walked out of the airport.

‘Can we still get married then Paul?’

‘Yeah, but no fuss, no Hello, just a quiet one!’

‘OK then’

‘Paul?’

‘Yeah?’

‘How about abroad?’

‘We could do H, we could do. Here?’

‘No, I was thinking America’

‘Florida? OK, It’s nice there’

‘No I was thinking Las Vegas, the Chapel of Love................’

‘You make me laugh Helen’

‘Do I, why?’

‘You just do’………………………………………………………………..




And now ROB disappears into the mist, seeking urgent psychiatric aid.

[monie]

Well done Rob it brought a little tear I see you havent lost your touch. Bravo
Hallie

[Feefs]

Feefs sniffs and wipes her nose on her sleeve, just as her mother told her not to.

[Di2001]

Totally wicked!!! Well done, ROB!!!

[Maggie]

You brought tears to my eyes ROB, exellent as ever


P.S. I'LL see you later, Simply The Best

[LEE]

I cried too ROB, beautifully written.

[peachy]

You made me cry, it was sooo poignant. If you hadn't have got them back together again at the end I'd never have forgiven you! I think it was beautifully written ROB, you haven't lost your touch. Certainly, one of the very best, you've done, but also the saddest, boo hoo. It was lovely though! I could just imagine Dean in that bar strumming away. Don't let that be the last story, play it again, ROB!

[blinkinlovely]

Sniff.......pass a tissue please.

[susieq]

Thanks ROB - 'nuff said (sniff).

[Kaz]

I thought nothing could top the magnificent 'Weekend in Reading', but I was wrong.

ROB, that was a masterpiece. You really bring Paul and Helen alive in front of our very eyes.

Like the others, there were quite a few tears in my eyes as I read the story , but thankfully also a small chuckle too at the end.

Here's to the next story - bring it on!

[Romantic Old Bird]

Just a few words of thanks for your comments. Sorry if I upset a few people, I didn't mean too. I just started with an idea, the old mind went off as it usually does, and the fingers tried to keep up. How do you think I felt? I was on that sea-shore! I had to fetch a tissue!

You didn't think I'd leave them all alone in the world without each other to cuddle and snuggle up to, did you?

I wouldn't do that, because ROB's little land is full of and . and they all live happily ever after!

I'm running out of leisure/recuperation time and need to choose my next project carefully. Any ideas?

[Benjamin]

Sorry to bring this old thread back up.


But just read this. I loved it! Made me a little sad though, yet happy.