While I Was Shopping: Part 11

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.

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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.

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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.

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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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