The house looked at him in the midday sun and Michael felt a glow
radiate from him, no matter how dishevelled he looked from his weary
travelling. It had taken him longer than expected to arrive in
Shropshire, particularly as his car had broken down
a third of the way into his journey due to over heating. He had had to
stop and
sleep the night in the backseat, dreaming of when he would see her
again.
And now here he was, stood in front of the
address he’d been given by the nice lady in Tathern, and he felt his
heart leap
to his throat and his knees begin to wobble. And suddenly he was at the
door,
his hand poised to knock, until he caught sight of himself in a window.
He was almost disgusted with himself. His
face had oil on it, his hair was on one end and he could smell the
scent of car
engines as he moved to knock on the door.
He stepped quickly away and resolved that he
would return as soon as he was in a fit state to go down on one knee
and ask
her to marry him.
****************************************************************************************************************
The supermarket stared at him with an open
mouth as he filed in with all of the other late afternoon shoppers
ready to
tackle their lists with vengeance. After wandering the streets looking
for a B
‘n B to dump his stuff for almost two hours, he managed to find one
with
vacancies and had quickly made his way over to the local, determined to
scrub
himself up and make the most of a bad situation.
He’d made a brief mental list, but he soon
realised as he wandered the aisles in a haze of shock that his list was
too
small to cover all of the scenarios his mind was throwing up now.
Toothpaste, toothbrush, soap and underwear
were all thrown into the basket, shortly followed by body spray,
shampoo and a
comb.
He was about to turn into the sandwich
section when he collided with another shopper and got his basket caught
up with
the shoppers coat, sending the contents, and the contents of hers,
tumbling to
the ground.
“I’m terribly sorry.” He said as he fumbled
on the floor, picking up his medley of things and hoping he didn’t look
too
much like he was trying to shoplift.
“It’s ok really.” Said a voice and Michael
felt the hairs on his arms stand on end. He looked up at the person
knelt
beside him and felt his heart leap to his throat, his nerves, that had
been so
steely earlier, falter and crumble.
“I’m sorry.” He said again, struggling for
something else to say as she looked up at his face with the same shock
that he
felt bubble inside of him.
Chelsea looked back at Michael and felt the whole
world around her disappear. How had he found her? She’d meant to be
away from
him for at least another couple of months, enough to time let
everything settle
down, enough time to work out which way was the best to tell him.
“I’m sorry.” He said again and she scooped up
her items and stood up.
“Stop saying that.” She said.
Michael pushed his things back into his
basket and stood up again.
“Sorry.” He said and winced. “I…I…I’ve been
travelling all night.”
Chelsea looked into his basket and back up at
him. “You left in a hurry?”
He nodded and she smiled, and he felt all of
his nerves fade and the familiar rush of adrenaline explode through his
veins.
“I had to get somewhere very fast.” He said.
“And now you’re here.”
He nodded, and caught sight of the
supermarket café. “Do you want to get a coffee?”
Chelsea nodded, and they headed over, Michael
motioning towards a table near a window.
After they had ordered and settled down
Michael looked up at her and smiled.
“I’m sorry for the way I’ve behaved Chelsea.”
She sipped her coffee and continued to look
out of the window. “I don’t want you to apologise Mike. You did what
you
thought was right under the circumstances.”
Michael shook his head. “I didn’t realise
what I was giving up. I didn’t realise exactly what losing you would do
to me.”
“And you have now?” she asked pointedly, and
he nodded.
“Being without you is killing me.” He said
and looked down.
There was a heavy silence as Michael looked
down and Chelsea looked out of the window.
“Why are you here Michael?” she asked finally
and he looked up and straight into her eyes.
“I want you back of course.”
She sighed and stirred her coffee with a
spoon. “Why?”
Michael was dumbfounded. “Because
I love you.” He said.
Chelsea looked at her hands. “Love wasn’t strong
enough to keep us together in the first place though was it?”
Michael looked confused. “I don’t understand Chelsea.”
“Was it really love
Mike? If you could let me leave, if you could watch me walk away, if
you could
push me aside and chose something else over me…is that love? If you
can’t live
without me, how come you didn’t stop me going? Why did you stay in
Scotland till filming finished?”
Michael put his head on his hands. “I don’t
know.” He said. “I was so confused about what to do. Alison kept
telling me
that we should be together, that I should go after you, but I wouldn’t
listen.
I can’t believe I was so stupid.”
Chelsea took a mouthful of coffee and swallowed
slowly, letting the warm liquid sooth her throat and senses.
“You are not entirely to blame. If I had
wanted it as badly then I would have put my foot down ages ago, and I
would
have demanded that we tell everyone we were together. I am as much to
blame as
you. I guess I just liked the thrill of having a secret too much.”
Michael gazed at her and placed his palms
flat on the table, his coffee untouched.
“Will you come back with me?” he said, his
eyes wide and his voice shaky.
She stared into his eyes for what seemed like
an age, before looking down at her empty cup and slowly shaking her
head.
“Not right now Michael.”
He felt as though his chest would explode.
Never in all his dreams had he expected her to say no.
In his minds eye he had seen her leaping into his car and him racing
them both
back to London where he intended to take her into the
rehearsal room and announce their engagement.
Here, in a supermarket, he felt his dreams
shatter.
“Will you ever come back to me?” he said
softly.
Chelsea touched his hand with hers and he looked
into her eyes again. She smiled gently and he felt tears well up.
“I think we both need a break for now don’t
we?”
Mike nodded and reached out to hug her.
They stayed that way for a while, until,
half-heartedly Michael stood up.
“I’d best get back to London. I have a meeting with a BBC man who
wants me for some new show they’re thinking up.”
Chelsea nodded. She walked with him to the front
of the shop, neither of them caring much about the things they had come
to buy,
and as they stood on the threshold, Michael turned to her and kissed
her on the
mouth, tenderly and emotionally.
She couldn’t resist him, and as their mouths
parted and he slipped into hers she felt passion rise in her again.
And then he was gone. When she opened her
eyes he was walking towards the car park, his shoulders hunched and his
walk
brisk and steady.
She brushed away tears already falling on her
face and quickly headed in the opposite direction, determined that he
wouldn’t
see her cry.
Michael walked determinedly towards his car,
careful not to look behind him so she wouldn’t see the tears on his
face, and
clambered in.
***************************************************************************************************************
TWO YEARS LATER
Eric pushed off from the pavement with his
foot and scowled as a car behind him tooted his horn. Flashing the V’s
with his
left hand, and manoeuvring his bicycle with his right, he quickly
peddled down
the high street and into the suburbs of London, meandering his way
through the houses
until he slowed down outside a walled garden.
He clambered off his bike and lifted it onto
the pavement, wheeling it along until he found a gate, and pushed
inside.
The garden was looking better, a lot better,
since he had last seen it, and since the house had been renovated it
was
looking a lot nicer, a lot warmer and a lot friendlier.
Ever since the end of ’75 Michael had felt
wrong in his flat, and for some reason had moved out as quickly as his
little
legs could carry him. In fact, he’d grown to dislike the flat so much,
he had
moved almost six miles from it to the other side of London, and had
moved into a battered and broken
down semi-detached on the end of a row, with a huge overgrown garden
and four
bedrooms.
It had taken him nearly two years to get it
fixed up, and as Eric examined the new windows in their settings, the
bright
paintwork, the cropped grass and the flowerbeds he smiled. Michael was
definitely turning into a suburbia bachelor. Soon he’d have a wife and
kids to
complete the Stepford look.
He shoved the gate closed and let his bike
rest against the panelled shed before walking briskly to the glass
patio door
and knocking loudly.
A silhouetted figure appeared in the distance
and as he approached Michael smiled warmly as his friend.
“Hey Eric, what are you doing here?” he asked
in a genial tone. It was rare that any of the Pythons visited now, and
he was
surprised Eric was even still in the country. He was sure that he’d
been
offered a couple more films in America.
“I come baring most mighty news.” Said Eric
with a grin, and Michael gestured for him to come in.
Once seated Eric sat forward on the chair and
knelt his elbows on his knees.
“Well?” Michael asked cheekily as his friend
looked eagerly across the coffee table.
“John’s calling another meeting.”
Michael shrugged. “And?” he said
noncommittally, “That could mean any number of things. One,
that he wants to do another series of Python, however that’s highly
unlikely. Two, that he wants to show off about another
one of his shows doing really well for the BBC. Three, he wants to
announce
that he’s getting married….AGAIN….. Or four…”
Eric waved his arms. “We’re doing another
movie!”
Michael’s jaw dropped. “Oh are we?”
Eric frowned. “You know it makes sense Mike.
After the huge success we had with Grail it was bound to happen.
There’s a
great market for Python out there.”
Michael sat back in his seat. “But why now?
Why does John want to market Python now?”
Eric shrugged. “Something about it being the
best opportunity for us. And now we’ll have more sponsors, and more
money, and
more fun.”
“More fun?” scoffed Michael. “Do you REMEMBER
the last movie Eric?”
Eric’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Great
wasn’t it?” he said mischievously and he examined Michael’s reaction.
There was
always something about Grail that Michael shied away from, something
that he
didn’t like, or didn’t want to be reminded of, and Eric could never
figure it
out.
Finally Michael sighed. “When is this meeting
then?” he said.
“It’s tomorrow night, at Jonesy’s. Can you
make it?”
Michael nodded and Eric slapped his hands
together. “Fantastic!”
“Where do you get your energy from Mr Idle?”
Michael asked laughing.
Eric shrugged and downed the rest of his tea,
before making to go. He turned to his friend as he pushed his bike out
of the
garden.
“I’m glad you’re coming with us on this Mike.
Wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Michael smiled gently as Eric rode off down
the road, before turning back to his house, and deciding what he would
have for
dinner that evening.
***************************************************************************************************************
The house was once again alive, and as
Michael sat down in the lounge, he looked around at the faces of his
friends,
once again gathered together for an ear bashing from John.
So far John, Eric, Gilliam and Terry were
there, and they were waiting on Graham, who had insisted he didn’t need
picking
up. Eric had thrown his bicycle into the hedge out the front on his
arrival,
and John had brought Gilliam from the airport. He’d been away in
America scouting for a new film project he’d been
thinking up.
Terry kissed his daughter goodnight as Alison
led her away, and he grinned proudly at the group as they watched with
the
adoring looks of Uncles.
She was christened Julianne, and Michael had
become her godfather as expected. No one had been in contact with
Chelsea for over a year, and they’d slowly gotten
used to the idea that she would no longer be part of Python life.
Eric was grinning manically and John and
Gilliam were in deep conversation as Michael sat back in his seat with
a glass
of wine.
The doorbell went and Terry stood up, winking
at Eric as he went. Something was going on but Michael didn’t have the
energy
to pursue it. He’d spent all night on the phone with his mother,
calming her
down after the cat had gone missing, and she hadn’t left him alone
until at
least three am.
When the door reopened Terry poked his head
round and Graham pushed past him, heading to his usual seat next to
Eric.
“I have a little surprise for all of you.”
Terry said and smiled broadly before walking fully into the room.
Behind him a figure appeared and the group
fell silent as Chelsea made her way into the room. She didn’t look that
much different. Her hair was longer, and fell in waves about her face.
She was
slightly thinner, and from the toned muscles on her legs Eric reckoned
the last
few months she’d spent dancing had really shaped her up. Of course it
had been
him who had found her. She’d moved back to London about a year ago, and
had been seen
around the entertainment circuit, dancing and singing in cabaret and in
West End shows. Eric had been amazed none of the
other guys had seen her, but then John and Gilliam had been loitering
around
America, Jonesy was usually locked away in the Beeb and as for Mike,
well, God
only knew what he got up to these days.
And one day, on a whim, he’d gone into the West End for a night out and
had caught her
leaving a stage door, her long wavy hair flowing down her back and her
familiar
perfume bewitching him again. After believing her dead or missing, it
had come
as quite a shock, and not only had he been shocked, but as he’d touched
her arm
she too had been a little surprised. She had invited him back to hers
for some
tea and a quick run down on all of the happenings, and he had been
sworn to
secrecy about her return until she was ready.
So for about ten months Eric had known she
was back in London, and he had wanted to tell the guys. But other than
his promise to Chelsea, he had liked having a little secret
something, and had relished in the thrill of it all.
But Terry found out she was back, apparently
from some of the Beeb backing dancers he’d gotten chatting to, and she
had been
more or less harangued into coming to the meeting this evening by both
Eric and
Terry. But as Terry had said, the films just wouldn’t be the same
without her.
“Surprise,” she said softly and John stood
up, and hugged her, before the other guys began to make positive noises
about
her return.
“Where have you been hiding Chelsea?” asked Gilliam in awe.
She shrugged, her curls falling onto her
sweater. “Here and there. I just needed a break,
that’s all.”
Eric smiled reassuringly at her as she
approached the sofa, and sat herself between him and Graham, who patted
her
thigh with the same familiarity, and grinned with his pipe firmly in
his mouth.
She took in the room, all now looking happily
on her as she made herself comfortable and Jonesy provided her with a
glass of
wine.
She saw all of the faces she loved, and she
felt suddenly that she had really missed being with them all. She
hadn’t
expected to feel quite so overwhelmed, and sipped her wine to distract
from the
fact she wanted to cry. There was so much to tell them, and yet there
seemed so
much they wanted to discuss.
Chelsea smiled as the banter returned, with only
the occasional question directed at her, which she tried to answer as
best she
could.
She looked to the fire and felt her wine
catch in her throat. There was a chair there, a chair she had forgotten
about
in her minds eye, and she looked at it, and at the person sat in it,
with
baited breath.
He was staring into the fire. He hadn’t
seemed to notice her arrival, or was ignoring it.
Chelsea looked at Michael and felt all of the
emotions she’d suppressed for the last two years build within her
again, but
she quickly pushed them aside, knowing that it was too late for them
now, and
knowing that she had sealed their fate in that case many months ago.
But yet the firelight caressed his face and
flickered across his cheek, dancing light browns and gold into his wavy
hair,
and making him look very, very sexy. His hand was clasping a glass and
he was
caressing the neck of it with one finger, his other hand firmly on the
arm of
the chair. He was wearing a deep blue open necked shirt with light
trousers,
and she could smell his scent from across the room.
His downcast eyes flickered from the fire and
towards her direction. She caught his gaze and saw the flames reflected
in it.
There was more said in that one moment than she had ever said to him in
her
life, and she saw his eyes glisten as he turned away, and back towards
the
fire.
And then Eric was tugging her elbow, and she
was drawn back into the real world where questions were once again
being fired
at her as she sucked back her tears and coughed into her glass whilst
Graham
looked seriously at her face.
*************************************************************************************************************
“So it’s set then,” John said as he stood on
the doorstep and waved at Alison who was chatting happily with Michael.
Terry nodded. “We’ll have to start scouting
locations, but I’ve already been searching and I’ve had a few picked
out.”
John smiled and rolled his eyes as Gilliam
joined him. “I see he’s taken control already Gill. No wonder he’s our
director.”
Gilliam grinned. “He does a damn fine job
dontcha think?”
After some fake shrugging, at which Terry
play punched him, John smiled again. “So Eric’s going to sort us out
somewhere
to write?”
Gilliam stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“What’s wrong with the rehearsal room?”
Terry tutted.
“Eric’s flying high now. I know he’s got a bit of a surprise tucked up
his
sleeve for this one.”
John scoffed. “Yeah well, whatever.” He
paused and grinned behind Terry. “Tonight’s been great.” He said. “Even
Alison’s enjoyed it, and she doesn’t usually.”
Gilliam laughed heartily and Terry turned to
see Mike whispering something in her ear and Alison laughing loudly.
Again a
stirring rose within him and he cast it down. Everyone had been in high
spirits
since Chelsea returned, and Alison, who’d nabbed her
for a two-hour session of chatting and gossip, had found her arrival
very
refreshing and a huge comfort. Terry frowned as he remembered Mike’s
slightly
frosty reception towards their leading lady, but as soon as he’d been
plied
with enough drink he’d dismissed her completely and was now laughing
raucously
with Alison as Graham sat back with a mug of tea, chatting softly with
Chelsea.
“What time are you going to kick the
reprobates out?” John asked.
Terry turned back to his friends. “Soon, I
can tell you. I’m getting too old for this kind of behaviour.”
Gilliam scoffed and John began to laugh as
they headed towards the taxi. Terry waved them off as Graham approached
the
front door.
“Thanks again Terry.” He said and smiled
gently. “I trust you’ll take care of Michael.” He said motioning for
the wreck
that was now leaning drunkenly on one hand whilst talking animatedly
with
Alison.
Terry nodded sternly.
Graham caught his look and put his hand on
Terry’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry Terry. It’s just a bit of fun.”
Terry looked sharply into Graham’s face, and
relaxed slightly, before nodding.
“Chelsea, darling, would you care for a lift
home?” Graham asked, and Chelsea nodded gratefully. She cast a glance
over
at Michael, disgusted with the way he’d been behaving that evening, and
then
kissed Alison goodnight, before departing.
As she stepped out onto the front step, she
smiled at Terry. “Can I just ask a quick question?”
“Sure,” said Terry and smiled openly.
“Are we allowed to bring relatives with us
when we start shooting this next film?”
Terry nodded. “Of course, you know the rules.
Who were you thinking of bringing?”
Chelsea looked down at her hands. “Someone close to me.”
At the mysterious answer Terry cocked an
eyebrow, but said nothing, and instead planted a kiss on her forehead,
and
waved both her and Graham off, before returning to the wreckage that
was his
best friend, sighing and silently affirming that he’d never invite his
friends
around again.
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