While I Was Shopping: Part 17

The lights went out as they all sat in the hire car and waited patiently for Eric to lock up. The holiday had ended, and yet they all felt as though it had ended long before today. No one would say it but the day Chelsea picked her husband over Michael was the day that she died in his eyes, and now when she spoke, when she rehearsed scenes, when she smiled, laughed or even coughed, his expression would remain firm and his eyes cold. And since the evening on the patio, the atmosphere in Python seemed more strained, and soon arguments broke out between members, and there would be periods of silence where neither person knew what to say to the other.

Terry looked over at his best friend and sighed. Michael looked tired. He wasn’t acting himself, and he knew that this would all be down to Chelsea.

They had seen very little of her since that day. She had moved out of the villa in order to stay with Ed, and she began by staying all day, then half a day, then an hour or two. She had seen them once in four days the last week of the holiday.

And Michael looked sad. Terry thought it was the saddest he had ever seen his friend, and he felt something tug at his heart. There was nothing he could do about it, and that made him feel bad. They had been so close for years now, and for Michael to clam up and even refuse to acknowledge Chelsea was madness.

Eric jumped into the back seat and John pulled away. None of them looked at the villa with longing as they drove off. It wasn’t a holiday that they would look fondly on. The spirit had died the night Chelsea and Michael broke up for good.

And that was another thing. Terry still couldn’t believe that they had been in love all that time. Eric had barely spoken to Michael, and Terry knew that they had had altercations over Chelsea before. Of course now Eric realised that Michael had been seeing her all along, and couldn’t quite get that out of his head.

John had gone into fatherly “it’s ok son, let it out,” mode and had tried on several occasions to get Michael to talk, only to have his head ripped off by a very irate Michael. It was rare for Michael to be so angry and cutting, so John forgave him instantly and realised that he must be hurting deep.

And as for Gilliam and Graham, well, they just muddled along in their own worlds for a while. Graham sometimes offered a moment of clarity, but Gilliam rarely ever did, and he’d been busy preparing animations for the film. He was excited more than sad because he’d finally been given full Art Direction reign, and he’d already planned a nice live action sequence for the film.

The airport loomed in front of them as John pulled into the hire car bay and they began unloading their suitcases.

The car behind them stopped and Chelsea and Ed got out. For a full minute the group looked at them and they looked back, and Chelsea’s lip quivered as she saw the looks on their faces. She knew that they felt betrayed on Michael’s behalf and she knew from the look in their eyes that they were as unhappy as he.

Terry was eyeing her with small reproach and Eric with betrayal. John was smiling the “I know what you’re thinking” smile, and Gilliam was watching her with a look of reserve. Michael wasn’t even looking her way, and yet she knew he sensed her there, and his gaze flickered to her for a millisecond. In that moment she saw his anger, his pain and suffering, and she saw his love, his compassion and kindness there too. His gaze flickered away and she saw his hand tighten its grip on his suitcase.
 
It was only Graham who approached her and smiled warmly. He reached out and took her hand in his before pulling her close to him so she could smell his pipe smoke and his aftershave and he said “in time” very softly in her ear.
 
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed before he stepped back and followed the group that had already begun to move away with a backward glance in her direction.
 
Chelsea watched her best friends leave in front of her eyes. She saw Alison glance behind her and smile gently, and she raised her hand to wave.
 
A hand rested on her shoulder and she looked up.
 
Ed looked down into her face with sadness. “If you want to go with them I’ll be ok with it.” His voice was hoarse and his hands were shaking as he looked down at his feet. “I can see in your eyes all the sadness of the world. I can’t keep you with me if all you long for is to be with your friends.”
 
Chelsea turned around and put her hand to his face. “I made my choice.” She said firmly and he looked into her eyes.
 
“I love you enough Chelsea, to know that you would rather be with Michael.”
 
She shook her head. She couldn’t go running back to them now, not after everything that had happened. She looked at her husband and smiled softly. Ed would give her a good life, love her till she died, and he would bring the mountain to her if she asked it of him. He wouldn’t hurt her, and he would always be there for her.
 
Ed looked at her with gentle love and smiled as she touched his lips and brought her mouth to his. She was all he wanted in the world, and as she wrapped her arms around his neck, he held her to him and thanked God she had stayed.

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Michael picked up a can of tuna and tossed it into the shopping trolley. Why was he shopping at gone three in the morning?

The aisles looked empty save for the bare minimum of late night shoppers who all looked like zombies out of the Night of the Living Dead, only without so much life in them.
 
He flicked a packet of rice over in his hands and then threw it in the trolley and nudged it along with his hip.
 
He scanned item after item before finally choosing to give in and he headed towards the checkout.
 
He looked over the staff waiting him there and sighed deeply. He remembered where he had first seen her in the freezer aisle.
 
He remembered this checkout assistant and he smiled softly as his bags were packed, his gaze touching over the place where she had stood not a few years ago when it had all begun.
 
Michael shook memories out of his mind as he paid and left the store. He packed his car and looked around once more, hoping for a glimpse of his one true love, but left with nothing. As usual.

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“Ok, so this is the thing.”
 
Somehow conversations always began with that one line with Gilliam. “Ok, so this is the thing,” and then splat, out would pop the proposition that no one wanted to fulfil and that everyone avoided. It signalled something bad in John’s mind as he sat looking out over Terry’s garden with his two children playing happily together on a set of new swings.
 
“Yes…” said Eric as he sipped from a pint glass and rested his head back on the sun lounger. It was mid summer already and sometimes he found it hard to believe that it was this time two years ago that they had all decided to head off to the Bahamas and write Life of Brian.
 
The film had been a huge success, despite the initial bans in some of the cinemas, which only continued to irritate Michael and amuse Eric. But the intake was already ten fold and the Pythons had all secretly rubbed their hands at the prospect of a successful film after the Holy Grail had been released. It was always nice to know you were appreciated.
 
Gilliam smiled broadly. This idea had crept up on him and suddenly startled him when he had arrived back home to find fans of Python camped outside of his home. The possibility of American fans had never struck him before and now a new market of possibilities screamed out to him.
 
“I had this idea.” He said slowly and Terry rolled his eyes at John who sneakily tried to hide a smile.
 
“I bet you all think it’s dumb, but I don’t care. It’s something we’ve done for a while now, only I wanna take this up on a big scale.”
 
Graham let out a wisp of smoke from his mouth before gesturing with his pipe. “Will you please make haste towards the point?”
 
Gilliam rolled his eyes and placed his hands firmly on his knees. “Lets go to America.”
 
There was silence as each Python tried to register what he had said.
 
“America why?” asked John suddenly.
 
“They love us over there man! I had a great time with the fans and they’re calling for a live show. Which is where you guys come in,” he said motioning at his friends sat lounging on the patio.
 
“You want us to go to America to do a live show?” Michael said.
 
Gilliam nodded.
 
There was silence for a moment, but John suddenly smiled and clapped his hands together. “Fantastic idea.” He said and the rest of the Pythons grinned and chinked glasses.
 
“America it is.” Eric said.

    ***********************************************************************************************************
 
Chelsea flicked the TV channel over with one hand and flipped the page of her magazine with the other, whilst idly watching the toaster with one eye, and perusing the TV channels with the other.
 
She sighed heavily and switched it off, bored with what meagre pickings were on, and headed towards the kitchen, collecting a plate from the wash rack and resting her elbows on the counter before the toaster. What was it about toasters that made you sit and watch them, even though they had a timed mechanism on the side that would tell you when the toast was ready?
 
She glanced around the living room space of her flat and sighed again, loudly, and podged the button on her stereo remote, smiling slightly as the familiar sound of the Beatles wafted into her mind.
 
The toaster pinged up and she quickly devoured the toast, eager to finish it off before some of her favourite tunes came on, leaving her mouth free to sing loudly along to it as she began her housework.
 
Picking up a duster and some polish she headed for her bookcase and cranked up the volume some more, not really caring if anyone below or above her could hear, and began singing along to I Want to Hold Your Hand.
 
Starting at the top she picked off the books and dusted, smoothing circles of polish into the wood and breathing in the scent. When she reached the third shelf down, where her photos began appearing among her books, she picked them all off and dusted the frames, and then the glass.
 
Pictures of the early Python days stared at her, all of them happy and smiling. Early rehearsal pictures, pub pictures on Terry’s new camera, snaps John took when they were out on location and those infamous Gilliam drawings. Chelsea dusted each of them off with a wistful smile and more than one tear in her eye, and when she came to one of her and Michael, she touched his face under the glass, feeling not an ounce of guilt, and smiling at the times they had had together, before everything had gotten so complicated, and before others had started getting involved.
 
The CD finished and she put down the frame and headed over towards the stereo cabinet, but as she brushed past the coffee table edge, she knocked the frame onto the floor and the glass smashed and sprinkled over the carpet in shards.
 
Chelsea froze. She looked down at the picture with more than a sense of foreboding and stared at it for a few long minutes, before reaching out her hand to pick it up from the floor.
 
She cussed under her breath as the glass creaked, and she placed the frame on the table, picking pieces of glass from underneath the plastic and all the while looking at Michael’s happy face next to hers, his arms around her and their bodies touching one another.
 
A drop of water landed on the photo and Chelsea looked up, half expecting it to be raining indoors with her luck, and brushed a hair from her cheek, and feeling the wetness there. How could she be crying and not realise it?
 
She looked down at her emerald t-shirt and saw the dark splodges there, and an animal sob escaped her lips. She clamped her mouth shut and began to pick up the pieces of glass from the carpet, careful not to cut herself, all the while with tears rolling down her cheeks.
 
When she had finally finished she had had enough of cleaning, and instead looked around the flat with a heavy heart. Not much of a home at all. Not since she and Ed had finally called it a day after two years of struggling with heavy hearts and wandering minds. Hers had tried to stay focused on their life together, and she had tried to do her best for her husband, but when their physical relationship fell apart within months of Barbados, they had fought to keep control of themselves together. Ed had sought solace in other women, his heart broken and his dream shattered. Chelsea had thrown herself into work, until she had bought this very flat with her wages, and had moved out on the pretence that it was more practical this way. It wasn’t until a few months later when Ed turned up on her doorstep dishevelled and drunk that things had come to a climax.
 
He was angry, and he had wanted her to admit that she still loved him. And Chelsea had been rendered unable to speak, knowing that whatever her answer he would know the truth about it all, and would be hurt just the same.
 
As they had talked on the sofa, in a moment of blindness, he had reached over and kissed her, and amongst the tears and the mess he had touched her and pressed his body against hers, and they had ended up sharing their final hours together as man and wife moaning like animals in need of comfort, and receiving it from the very people who had caused them discomfort. She thought back to the night, knowing that it had been the most painful night of their lives, but glad that they had done it all the same, and that it was all finally over now. One divorce later she was alone again, single, but not free. The memories would never let her be that, and she touched the picture again with a thumb before placing it in a kitchen drawer, and cranking the CD back up high, she reached out for the vodka.

   *************************************************************************************************************

“Hello?” Terry asked, half expecting the person on the other end to slam the phone down in the cradle.
 
“Yeah? Hello?” a mans voice asked and Terry smiled. Obviously Ed didn’t recognise his voice.
 
“I’m trying to get hold of Chelsea?”
 
The man grunted. “Yeah she’s round here somewhere. I’ll go get her for you.” There was a clunk as the phone was laid down and then someone shouting “Chelsea!” loudly in the background.
 
Terry waited with anticipation as he heard footsteps approach and the creak of the phone being picked up. It had taken a lot of persuading by Eric to get in contact with Chelsea, and he had known that this conversation would be a hard one, particularly as none of them, except Eric, had really made the effort to keep in touch with her. After all, who did they owe their allegiance to if not Michael?
 
But he had decided that the time was now to bury the past and try and move on, and Eric was right. How could Python tour without Chelsea there? It was like asking them to tour without Neil Innes, an equally important, if not frequently mentioned, part of the group. And he had signed up no troubles. Well, apart from the fact that he wouldn’t arrive until much later. The day before the show actually. But he was still going to be there, and they couldn’t do this without Chelsea. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair. They never did anything without all members being present if they could help it.
 
Terry leant back in his office chair and waited. After all she could say no, and then they would HAVE to do without her. Eric had made it clear that this was not an option. They had all seen the way Michael had been behaving since Chelsea had left, and it was about time that this was all put behind them. As far as Terry was concerned it was up to Michael, and he certainly worked a lot better with her around.
 
“Hello?” her voice resounded into the ear piece, and Terry smiled as he remembered her in his minds eye.
 
“Hi Chelsea.” He said and waited.
 
“Terry. Long time no hear or see.” She said, not angrily or bitterly, but almost sadly.
 
“I know it’s been too long Chelsea.”
 
“So what is it you want?” she asked. “I doubt that this is a social call.” There was a pause. “Nothing’s wrong is it?”
 
Terry reassured her everything was fine. “There is something I need your help with though Chelsea, and I know you’re a busy lady these days.” He grinned. “Eric’s told me all about your theatrical exploits. It sounds like you’re really making a go of things with Ed.”
 
“Sorry?” she asked and Terry frowned slightly.
 
“Ed? I take it that was him I spoke to just now?”
 
Chelsea nodded and bit her lip. “Oh yes, Ed, yes. He’s fine.”
 
“Have you two moved to town now?” Terry asked and heard a muffled noise before a reply came.
 
“I’ve bought a flat in town. It’s more practical for me now, you know, what with the theatre being in the city.”
 
Terry nodded. He too had little places dotted around for that very same reason.
 
“Anyway, what is it you need Terry?”
 
He took a deep breath. “We’re going on tour to America.”
 
Chelsea sat down on the floor beside the phone table and took a deep breath. “Good on you.” She said and held her breath.
 
“Well what we were all wondering was if you’d like to join us?” Terry sat and waited with baited breath.
 
“All of you?” she asked hesitantly after what Terry could only describe as a pregnant pause.
 
“All of us.” He lied, and blushed severely at the end of the phone. The truth of the matter was that all of the Pythons knew except Michael, who had been blissfully aware of what his friends were planning behind his back.
 
“I don’t believe you Terry.” She said with a hint of playfulness in her voice.
 
“And why is that?”
 
“I can hear you blushing,” she laughed and then sighed. “I’ll never get another opportunity like this again, and it would do me some good to get on the American scene. But how can I go without knowing that everything is ok with everyone?”
 
Terry noted the emphasis on “everyone” and he duly noted that she was right. But he had to know that she would come and he had to lie his socks off in order to guarantee this.
 
“He’s fine with it Chelsea. Honestly. I’ll get him to call you himself if that’s what it takes?”
 
“No,” came the firm answer, and Terry knew he had hit a button. “As long as he’s fine with my being there then I’ll come. I’d love to see you all again.” Her voice softened and he smiled at the end of the phone, resisting the urge to punch the air with his fist.
 
“I’ll get Angela to call you with all the details soon.” He promised. “I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do.”
 
Chelsea smiled at the other end of the phone. “It’d be nice to hear from her again.”
 
They made their farewells, and as Terry picked up his car keys to go and meet Eric for lunch, Chelsea stood up slowly and made her way into the lounge where her brother smiled up at her from the sofa, a sandwich in his hand and a small smile on his face.
 
“Who was that?” he asked as she picked up his glass of milk and took a sip.
 
“An old friend.” She said and smiled down at him. It was good to have some company around her at last.

    ************************************************************************************************************

“Michael, Chelsea’s coming too.” Terry said and looked down at his writing pad. The room was deathly silence, and all of the Pythons looked at Michael and waited, wondering what his reaction would be.
 
It had been last minute. No one had mentioned Chelsea until now, the final week before they were due to fly out, and they all knew it had been planned this way so that Michael wouldn’t be able to back out and would have to come. He hated disappointing anybody, so this had been the perfect ploy.
 
“That’s good.” He said finally and Terry looked up quickly, knowing these words all too familiarly. Michael was covering himself, and he saw the glassy smile that he was now presenting to the group, and his hands were still gripping the chair arms as though he was about to get blown away.
 
“Well that concludes the final matter I believe.” John said with a hint of slight relief and he grinned. “Pub anyone?”
 
Several of the Pythons disappeared leaving Terry watching Michael, and, as Graham left, he cast a glance over his shoulder at Michael and nodded to himself.
 
“You don’t have to pretend to me Michael.” Terry said slowly. “I know it was unfair to tell you this way, but I couldn’t risk you not coming.”
 
Michael shrugged. “Why should it matter to me whether she comes or not? Things wouldn’t be the same without her would it?”
 
Terry stood up from his chair and patted his best friend on the shoulder. “You are a very strong man Michael. And don’t ever forget that Python would never be the same without you either.”
 
Michael nodded slowly, and looked up at his friend as he left the room, and then back at the table with a tear on his cheek.