The door slammed and Chelsea winced as the walls shuddered and a
picture on the wall toppled off and fell splat onto a cushion.
She stuck her head around the kitchen wall in
anticipation of his arrival but saw no one in the corridor. She heard
the ceiling
creak above her and she smiled as she heard the shower begin to run.
There had been little for her to do today at
the shoot so she’d been stuck in Michael’s flat for the last few hours,
waiting
his return. In her excitement she had started cooking a meal, but was
now
looking into a pan of dark brown mince that smelled strangely of
seawater and
wondering why she had bothered to make lasagne at all. It had all
looked so
simple when Mike had done it.
The water stopped running and there were
footsteps behind her. When she turned around she saw the scowl across
his face
and winced again.
Things hadn’t been going well since John had
left. Suddenly everyone was at each other’s throats and one sketch that
would’ve done so well with his input had collapsed like a flan in a
cupboard.
The friendly atmosphere, which had accompanied many of the Python’s
shoots, had
suddenly fallen into a suspicious and almost guarded wariness that
Chelsea felt
very uncomfortable in. And by the looks of it today had been no better.
Michael had been sent out on a shoot to film
the Walking Tree of Dahomie sketch for the sixth episode and had
obviously not
enjoyed it as much as he thought he would.
He threw himself onto the sofa and sighed
loudly, shutting his eyes and leaning his head back.
Chelsea let him wrestle with it himself, and
knew that when he was ready he would tell her anything he wanted to get
off his
chest.
She put the mince on the sheets of pasta and
then poured over the sauce and dusted the top with Parmesan before
shutting it
into the oven with a sigh. It was going to taste like vomit and she
could’ve
done with it tasting a little better with Mike feeling so down.
She poured two glasses of red wine and headed
into the lounge, glancing quickly at his face before seating herself on
the
couch next to him.
Michael opened his eyes wearily and smiled
weakly as she handed him a glass.
“How was your day?” she asked softly, knowing
from the look on his face it’d been pretty terrible.
“It’s over.” He said and she saw the glass in
his hand begin to shake.
“What do you mean it’s over?” she asked,
suddenly wary of a huge fist that was nestled in her stomach ready to
punch her
insides. Was he talking about them? How many times would they go
through this
very circumstance again? Would she always have to keep making up with
him
again?
Michael took her hand in his and smiled
gently, if not a little sadly. “I don’t want you to go getting all
panicky. I
don’t mean us. At least that’s one solid thing in my life.” She crept a
little
closer to him and looked into his eyes.
“What is it then?”
Michael took a small sip of the wine and
looked down at the floor. “Monty Python is finished.”
She cocked her head in question.
“The guys and I all sat down today on the set
and had a discussion about where things were headed.” He shrugged, “I
suppose I
should’ve seen it coming. What with Graham being pretty much useless
now
without John, and Terry having a baby and everything.”
Chelsea set her glass down and held his hand
in hers.
“What I’m trying to say, very inarticulately,
is that after this show has broadcast, Monty Python’s Flying Circus
will cease
to be.”
She felt her stomach get punched all the same
and saw Michael begin to well up. It had been a huge part of their
lives for
the last five years and it had been a whirlwind adventure. Chelsea felt
a lump
creep into her throat and she hugged Mike to her as he wept a little.
Five years had come and gone, and still no
one had realised about their relationship. In fact, they had been
seeing each
other seriously for more than four, and it shocked Chelsea to realise
that many
of her friends had married their husbands in little under two years of
knowing
them.
But there had always been a threat that
Michael’s relationship with Python would be ruined if the other lads
found out
about his relationship with Chelsea, and so far no one, save maybe
Terry, had
become suspicious.
It suddenly struck Chelsea that, now Python
had met it’s untimely demise, they would be able to be honest about
everything,
and that they could behave naturally in public without being worried
what may
happen.
As she held Michael in her arms she realised
that for the first time in their relationship other people would be
able to see
them as a couple and that both frightened and excited her. She wanted
them to
know that she was seeing Michael and didn’t want to have to hide her
feelings
anymore.
Suddenly, out of the wreckage of their career
paths had appeared a light, and she couldn’t explain the jubilation she
felt as
Michael dried his cheeks and went to dish the dinner.
****************************************************************************************************************
The filming had come to an end, the camera
turned off, the set dismantled and the audience removed. Of course they
hadn’t
told the audience that this was the final Python, and hadn’t wanted to
ruin the
atmosphere about the place. They had wanted natural laughs and
reactions to the
skits as though they would all return there the following week.
In reality however, as the audience filed
out, Terry began discretely thanking all of the staff and shaking hands
with
lighting people.
And then there were the Pythons themselves,
who in the last six weeks had wanted so much to escape the nest and fly
from
each other’s presence, now stood looking at each other with respect and
even a
little remorse.
“This is it then.” Eric said and stuck his
hands in his pockets. His hair was still wet from the shower he’d had
to take
because of his David Attenborough costume and he’d thrown on a pair of
jeans
and a skin-hugging t-shirt that made him look thinner than he was.
Graham was sucking on his pipe in a suit, and
was smiling bemusedly into the distance as Gilliam, in his huge coat,
leant on
a table.
Terry Jones nodded. “This is it folks.” He
said and smiled gently at Michael who was clad, very nicely, in a pair
of black
trousers and a brown leather jacket.
“Until Python meets again?” asked Graham
suddenly, and everyone looked at him, some with thoughts that that
proposition
would be unlikely fulfilled.
They all shook hands and Chelsea felt as
though she were losing members of her family. It was ridiculous because
she
knew she would always keep in contact with the guys, but she couldn’t
help
feeling like it would be too long until she saw them again.
On the way back to Michael’s she stared out
of the window and watched the fields pass her by.
“What are you thinking?” asked a gentle voice
and she smiled quietly at him.
“Oh I dunno. Mostly about where to go from
here.”
He looked back at the road. “Well that’s
entirely up to you really isn’t it? Do you want to carry on in TV or do
you
want to become a housewife?”
Chelsea grimaced. “I’d need to be married
before I could become a housewife wouldn’t I?”
He continued staring at the road and she
looked at him closely. “Michael?”
His dimples gave him away and she poked his
side. “What?”
She cursed him and he pulled the car over
outside of his home and turned to face her.
“Stop pouting.” He said and she couldn’t help
but smile. “That’s better.”
The air was full of electric expectance and
when he grinned and held out a small box in one hand Chelsea felt the
air
inside her get knocked from her lungs.
“Michael I was only joking…” she choked and
he smiled, leaning closer to her, trying to get her to take the box.
“So you don’t want to marry me then?” he
asked and Chelsea gasped again, her eyes wide.
She flicked the small lid open and felt her
eyes begin to well as she looked at the engagement ring sitting in the
lush
velvet. It was a simple ring with a single diamond. Clustered around it
were
tiny emeralds that were almost invisible, but made the diamond shine
with a
green hue that was so beautiful she couldn’t take her eyes off it.
“Well…?” he asked, and she could see in his
eyes that he was a little worried himself. He looked earnestly at her
and she
leapt on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and grinning happily as
tears
rolled down her cheeks.
“I’ll take that as a “yes” then shall I?” he
asked and laughed as she nodded her head, before taking her face in his
hands
and kissing her passionately.
************************************************************************************************************
The phone jangled him out of his light sleep
on the sofa. He hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, what with Chelsea
staying
over again and he felt as though someone had thrown a switch inside his
head
and cut off all the power to his body.
When he had asked her to marry him he had
been so nervous, and when she had said she would he couldn’t take his
hands off
her. They’d spent a passionate night together that had lasted until the
following day, and she had slipped back to her flat to make sure no one
had broken
in to nick the stuff she had left there.
There was so much to sort out too. Of course
it was obvious that Chelsea would move in with him. After all, she’d
practically lived there for the last three years. But they didn’t want
to do it
just yet without informing the other Python’s of the new arrangements.
He was
sure it would come as a shock to them all, maybe not so much Terry, and
was
worried about their reactions.
It would have to be done soon, and as Michael
picked up the receiver, he realised that Chelsea had left him to ring
them all
to ask them to dinner.
“Hello?” he croaked, wondering who it was and
how he could get rid of them and start phoning the Pythons. As it was
he
needn’t have bothered.
“Hey Mike, it’s John.”
Michael smiled happily as his friend greeted
him. “Hello John! Long time no hear!”
John grunted. “Been busy mate. Far too many
people want me now!”
Michael laughed. John never changed. Still
far too bigheaded and conceited for his own good!
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
“Well something’s come up.” John said. “I’ve
had a word with Terry about it and we’ve come to an agreement.”
Michael scoffed and John tutted, and Mike
could imagine his scowling face on the other end.
“I know what you’re thinking, Terry and I never
agree, but this is something extraordinary Mike. We’ve had an idea
brewing for
some time now and I really think if we are agreed we could make a great
go of
it.”
John sounded excited and Michael couldn’t
help feeling intrigued.
“I can’t tell you what it is now Mike, but
what I can say is next Wednesday we’re having a meal up at Terry’s
house and
we’ll discuss it then.”
“We?” Mike asked.
“Yeah, all the gang, and even Chelsea if she
wants to come.”
Michael jumped in his skin. “Chelsea?”
“Yes Michael, Chelsea. Why, what’s wrong with
her?”
“Oh nothing, sorry. I wasn’t paying
attention. I was double checking.”
John grinned. Michael; always the safe and
secure one. The one everyone knew everything about. He was always
double
checking something.
“Try and get there for seven Mike, I think
we’re going to need the time.”
Michael nodded and then his breath caught.
“Do you want me to tell Chelsea?” he asked quickly. If anything, John
would get
suspicious if he couldn’t catch Chelsea on her home phone number.
“I didn’t realise you and Chelsea were that
pally outside of the studio.” John said.
Michael winced. “We’re not, but I know for a
fact I’m going to see her today. It’ll just save you a phone call
that’s all;
think of the money you’re saving.” He said and waited with baited
breath for
John’s reply, knowing that the thought of money would catch him out.
John nodded. “Yeah do it. I have to go now
though Mike, but I’ll talk to you next week.”
When they had said their goodbyes Michael
sank back onto the sofa. What had John been talking about? And what was
going
to happen about Chelsea and him?
He smiled. It would be ok. He would announce
his engagement to the guys next week and then that would be that. It
would be
perfect. When else would he catch all of them together again? And at
least he
wouldn’t have to cook!
He closed his eyes as he settled back into
the couch and smiled, dreaming suddenly of their faces when he told
them.
************************************************************************************************************
The door opened and Terry’s happy figure
appeared clutching a stein of beer in one hand and a spoon in the
other. He was
wearing what Michael called his “homely clothes”, namely a deep blue
sweater
with a white shirt under it and comfy trousers. With his dark locks
curling at
his temples and at the nape of his neck he looked fresh and
comfortable, and
when Alison appeared at his side with an apron pronouncing her
pregnancy,
Chelsea couldn’t help but envy their happy life together.
The noise behind them made the scene even
more idyllic and Michael grinned up at his best friend with respect and
usual
joviality. He looked every bit the part of an upper middle class man,
with his
Stepford Wife and ensuing dinner party raging in the background,
although Terry
himself would argue the observed point to the bitter end.
Mike himself was feeling somewhat on edge
though, and Terry’s glance told him his friend suspected something as
he
motioned for him to come inside, taking his coat from him and nodding
towards
the living room.
The familiar Python noise had risen as he had
entered the warmth of these surroundings, and as he pushed back the
door to the
lounge he felt transported back to the good old times of the early
days, when
money wasn’t everything and making a point through comedy didn’t really
matter.
The troupe was seated as they always were, in their usual places, and
some even
wearing what Terry classes as “The Jones Clothes”; namely clothes that
only came
out of the wardrobes for trips to Terry’s house.
The group looked up with a smile and warm
welcomes as he sat down and laughed as they continued their stories or
conversations, a few questions fired across the room going backwards
and
forwards, as well as the regular insults from both Eric and John, who
were
always trying to find the ultimate one.
And he cast he gaze around at each of his
friends in turn. John, the first to leave and the eldest of them all,
was still
dark and formidable, and even after several months of not seeing them
he was
still very much an authority figure. He seemed to have filled out a
little, but
Michael grinned as his usually serious face contorted and his tongue
wagged and
Gilliam and Eric laughed at him.
Gilliam was still the bear, deep and gruff.
His hair was actually longer than Mike remembered it a week before, and
as he
looked at its length compared to Eric’s he grinned. Eric had always
had, in his
opinion, the wildest hair of the group. When it got long it was so wavy
it got
knotted and the costume ladies loved to brush it. Eric looked like he’d
put on
a bit of weight too, and was no longer looking thin. He was grinning
madly at
Graham as he sucked on a pipe and settled back in the sofa. Graham in
himself
looked a little tragic. He was slightly scruffy and was, what Mike
would have
called, slightly soiled. His eyes had dark circles under them, but he
was
genial and his usual detracted self, so, although there was something
slightly
off key with him, it wasn’t too obvious.
And then his eyes met hers and he felt
everything else melt away. He had known she’d be there, but had had no
idea
that she could still cause this change in emotion to him, even after
five years
together.
Chelsea was seated between Eric and John and
was wearing a chunky cream sweater with grey jeans. She looked cute in
the
firelight, and tossed her wavy hair as he stared into her eyes.
“Michael?” a voice cut in and Michael tore
his eyes from her face.
“Hmm?” he asked.
John rolled his eyes. “Where were you just
then?” he asked.
Michael shrugged, knowing that the moment to
tell them that he was in love was not yet there.
“Well wherever it was it looked like heaven.”
Said Graham in a rare moment of clarity.
“Pardon?” asked Eric who looked speculatively
up at his seated friend.
Graham smiled gently. “The look on his face
suggested that there was great emotion attached to whatever he was
thinking
of.”
The group looked for a moment at Graham
before turning slowly back to face Michael.
“Perhaps he’s got a girlfriend.” Quipped
Gilliam and John rolled his eyes.
“Like we wouldn’t have noticed.” He said
sarcastically and Chelsea smiled inwardly.
Michael waved his arms around. “Uh Hello! I’m
still here!”
“What’s he trying to say?” asked Eric and the
group laughed together.
The door swung open and Terry motioned to
them that dinner was served and they headed into the dining room.
The meal itself was pure opulence and after
Chelsea had had a good chat with Alison about girlie things and the
guys had
discussed themselves into a corner the plates were cleared away, as a
joint
group effort and mints and brandy was handed out.
There was silence as everyone waited with
anticipation to find out what they’d really been called there for and
finally
John began to speak.
“Firstly I would like to say how thoroughly
I’ve enjoyed myself tonight.” He said and smiled at each of his
friends. “I’ve
missed the group, truly, since I’ve left, and sometimes I wonder how I
survive
without it.”
Everyone grinned at each other and toasted.
“I believe there are announcements to be had,
so we best get going with them.” He said.
Michael nodded and raised his glass. “I would
like to announce something if I will..” he said and John waved his
arms.
“I hadn’t finished yet!” he said and the
group laughed again. “Just wait your turn Palin!” he tutted. “When did
you get
so impatient huh?”
Everyone smiled at the horseplay which was
taking place, and although Michael laughed nervously, he was shaking
his nerves
to pieces, and Chelsea had known that he was trying to announce their
engagement. He was now staring at his glass and she touched his foot
with hers
under the table and his head promptly sprang up, and he looked shiftily
around
until he saw her looking, and gave her a small smile.
“Anyway, as I was saying, before I was rudely
interrupted,” John said and gave Mike the evil eye, “the first
announcement of
this evening must be related to why Terry and myself called you here.”
He
looked around and took in all of his friends’ faces.
“I’ve been toying with an idea for a while,
and I know we’ve discussed this previously, but now I think we could
seriously
give this a go. There’s such a wide open market for it now, and what
with Monty
Python being so successful, I believe there’d be a good enough turn out
to make
it viable.”
“John you’re starting to sound like a
lawyer,” Eric quipped and there was a nervous titter.
“Basically what he’s trying to say is, let’s
make a movie.” Said Terry Jones.
There was a stunned silence where each of
them looked at the other and no one said a word. Michael caught
Chelsea’s eye
and registered the veiled disappointment in them as she looked up at
John.
That would be it. Another year of not telling
anyone they were seeing each other. Not touching each other in public,
of not
living with each other, and the hassle of keeping their lives seemingly
separate, dodging friends’ intimate questions and enquiries as to
girlfriends
and boyfriends.
He saw her mentally shutting the lid on the
engagement ring and he sighed inwardly. He was still surprised she was
with him
after the last years she had spent being underdog to the Pythons, and
it made
him sad to think that he was making her feel blue about their
relationship.
“A film?” asked Eric finally.
“On what?” asked Gilliam.
“And how?” Graham interjected.
John sat down and Terry leant forward in a
position of businesslike manner.
“We haven’t really got that far yet, but we
definitely know this is something to go for guys. The Flying Circus was
one
thing, but to do a film too? It seems almost like a dream come true. An
hour
and a half of pure Python; who wouldn’t pay for that?”
Everyone was in agreement, it sounded too
good to be true.
“So what now? We decide what we want to do it
on and then write it? Then what? None of us have ever done films
before, how
are we going to know what to do?”
Terry shrugged. “I don’t know, but isn’t that
half the fun? Learning whilst doing?” he looked around the table. “We
decide
the idea, we write bits, we write the entire script, we scout
locations, we
hire people, we beg for sponsorship and we do our best. It’s all we can
do.”
John looked around at his fellow Pythons. “So
who’s up for it?”
Graham raised his hand instantly. “A risk
worth taking.” He said and grinned manically.
Terry was nodding and Gilliam raised a hand.
Eric grinned. “You know me, always up for a
challenge.”
And finally they looked at Michael and
Chelsea.
The room seemed to close in on him and Mike
felt suddenly as though he was on mastermind and was being asked a huge
question that everyone else had an answer too and he didn’t.
“I’m in.” Said a voice and his eyes flickered
up to the person across the table. His mouth dropped open as her eyes
met his
and he tried to convey everything he wanted to say to her in them. She
was
giving up her happiness for him again, and although he knew ultimately
a small
part of her wanted to do this, he knew the majority of her wanted to
marry him
and be his wife and live in the open with him. The love he felt rushing
through
his veins at that moment was completely indescribable and as he slowly
nodded
he saw her expertly wipe a tear from her face, and start smiling and
laughing
with the others, as the new journey of Python began.
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