Chapter 4

Hours had past, the rain had settled into a light drizzle, drifting softly with the aid of the breeze. The bus he was sat on, empty. With his headphones on he awoke from his little slumber, the sky was breath taking. Colours of greys and blacks, mixed with patches of clear blue skies and the heavenly light spilling through the dark heavy clouds. He couldn’t help but feel warmed and moved by the vision, taking in a deep breath. Rested and relaxed, he scanned the empty bus thoughts going through his head, just simple things really, events of the day conversations between himself and Dave. He was rejoicing in the fact that he still had one more day to relax before going back to work. And the girl, Donna. He’d always look at her when he was in the cafe he couldn’t not, she was sexy. It wasn’t just her looks, but the way she carried herself, the way she moved around the room moved from table to table with such grace smiling so calm, so warm and so innocent. He would always smile at her, but nothing more. A small nudge on his shoulder as a passenger walked past him, sitting herself behind him. For a second he was confused but returned to earth from staring into that ever so simple space. His stop was just a few minutes away, he jumped from his slouched position and sat up straight, scratching his face and licking his lips. Looking round the bus again, passengers where scattered around.
Jesus how long was i zoned out? He thought to himself.

Ringing the bell, and placing the bag around his shoulder he walked down and off the bus. He loved the fact that his house was so close to the bus stop. (Though who wouldn’t, i mean it’s just convenient right?). Crossing the road he opened the small rusted gate and walked to his door, pulling the keys from his pocket, spinning them, the gate crashing shut behind him.It wasn’t until he was rested on the sofa, with a book in his hands that he realised. ‘Shit’ he said rolling his eyes and letting his head slump forward into the book. ‘Shit! The Notebook’, he had forgotten to ask for the notebook. The cafe was closed on Sundays, so there was no chance of getting it until Monday afternoon. ‘Jesus Christ, you really are a dumbass sometimes’ he said laughing folding the corner of the page and throwing the book onto the coffee table. He picked up the cup of tea and finished it off.

After reading the book for several more hours the door opened, there was a small thump sound, as his house mate dropped his bag onto the floor beside the door, stretching and sighing as he did so. He made his way into the main room and let out another sigh as he let his body fall onto the sofa, sitting beside Chris. ‘How do?’ Chris said resting the book open on his chest. ‘Good man, good’. Simon was taller than Chris, and his physic a little more masculine, his hair long and black tide into a ponytail, a look that suited him. He rested his feet on the coffee table ‘So how’d it go with the ice queen?’ Simon asked scratching his beard. ‘She really wanted to tear me a new one ’.They both smiled at each other ‘Well I hope to hell you tore her one too?’ Chris throwing the book onto the coffee table, sitting up replied with a little too much enthusiasm ‘Hell yeah’ Simon laughed slapping Chris’s leg. ‘Come on, I’ll get a few pints in and you can tell me all about it, I could do with a laugh’

~

Sunday night, a man and women were shouting arguing with aggressive flare. Rain falling hard upon the window screen, droplets dancing off while others simply, and gracefully ran down leaving streaks that where illuminated by the streets lamps. A flourish only to be cut off by the finale of the wipers, erasing all on the glass, as to start fresh, the glass the canvas for this display of movement.
As quick as it started, the arguing stopped. The woman driving and her knuckles white has she held the wheel. Her husband now slumped in the seat, drunk, as always. The suit he wore, black and his shirt was half open exposing the hairs on his chest; some had a colour of brown the rest grey. His tie limp, loose around his neck. His hair was medium length, grey and started to dance wildly as he open the window slightly. ‘No way in hell you’re smoking in this car’ she said to him sharply as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, her face always facing to the road ahead. There was no sound from him, not even a sigh he just simply placed the pack back into his jacket pocket and closed the window.

The drive was long and it started to show, her eyes getting heavy and her posture softened, she slouched. The dress she wore was black and she wore a thin white belt, her hair at the party was tied up, and the pearl necklace she wore, from the waist up she was a spitting image of Audrey Hepburn, though she was a lot shorter. Now though her hair was loose and long, hanging over her shoulders, her long fringe brushing a cheek as the warm air wheezed through the vents. She drove on some more. There were no words spoken between them. There was no need. At the traffic lights he placed his hand softly on her leg, and patted it even softer. She turned to him; he was smiling a sorry-full smile. The red light caught his hand, shaking ever so slightly. She rested her hand on his and smiled back to him. There were no words spoken, they weren’t needed. A soft amber light coloured their hands, then green. She moved her hand and he moved his, she drove on. It was a long drive and not a single word was spoken, they weren’t needed.

At the house the man washed the drowsiness from his face, with some cold water. The woman followed walking into the kitchen and let her keys slip out of her hand into a bowl on the table. The kitchen was quite large, well kept. The cupboards had simple white doors on them, the handles where round wooden knobs the colour of them oak, matching the wooden counters and benches. There was a small fireplace built into the walls above one of the cupboards, this was lined with white and brown tiles, these tiles created a border around the rest of the room. The woman took two glasses from the side of the sink and give them a quick wipe with a tea towel, she then handed it to the man, he wiped his face dry and as he did so, let the woman pour some cold water into the glasses. Placing them on to the kitchen table she sat down, he turned the tap off and sat down beside her. They raised the glasses and began to drink. They hadn’t spoken, there wasn’t any need.

It was late morning, and the woman drove down to long driveway that led from the large farm house. She drove from it into the local village. She was dressed in jeans and a black fleece her hair drifted back as the cold breeze blew. Opening the door to the shop she greeted the owner, an old man of sixty or so ‘Morning Howard’. Howard in turn nodded a gentile nod towards her. ‘Morning Carol’ She made her way to the back of the shop and grabbed some milk. Making her way back to the counter Howards voice called out to her ‘How’s George doing, not seen him for a few days now?’ She placed the milk on the counter, and Howard placed a rolled up newspaper beside it. ‘He’s fine’ she said giving money. ‘He just needs some time; it’s hard for a parent having to bury their own child’ Howard spoke no words as he handed her change, he didn’t need to his eyes said it all.
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