Daydreamers. A Short Story

Another short story. Just a fantasy again, but I lived once in a pub in Acton in London, amazing place, wonderful people, and I also lost once my shoe in similar curcumistances. 

And of course David Cassidy performed in 'Blood Brothers in December of 1995. 

He had a camel wool coat too..

Chapter 1

At least it stopped raining and she could get rid of her broken and very uncomfortable umbrella. There was no point carrying it any longer and it was much easier walking without it.

She had a plastic carrier bag in each hand and a small handbag on her shoulder.

Her hair was wet, the same as her jeans and the  thin coat she had on. She didn’t expect such cold weather in London.

Even in December.

The ankle length boots were the worst, somehow icy cold water managed to get inside them, but she tried not to think about it, just concentrating on moving forward, watching  her steps, she knew she was close to the Knightsbridge Tube Station, and if was lucky would be in Acton and her pub in an hour.

Her last day in London, still so many things to do. 

She walked with her head slightly down and had

to stray to the wrong side of the pavement.

It was her fault..

The man must have been lost in thought too,

or just in a hurry.

It was painful when he stepped on her foot,

she staggered but he held her tightly by the shoulders.

For a moment she pressed her face into the wide collar of his camel wool coat and the smell of expensive men’s cologne enveloped her.

It was good to feel his strong hands, suddenly she

felt very tired, but pulled herself together and

raised her head.

He wasn’t tall, just slightly taller than her, probably

in his early 40s, his eyes were so close, beautiful,hazel or maybe green,

she couldn’t say, lips rather narrow and sensitive.

’Run! Just run away and never turn back!’ She thought in panic to herself and urgently wanted to take a step back, but her shoe got stuck in some hole in the pavement.

She jerked and would have fallen if he hadn’t held her. The old damaged and water soaked sole didn’t last..

“I don’t know if to laugh or cry.” He wasn’t angry, his voice was sensual and warm, she couldn’t recognize his accent, not an Englishman.

“What am I going to do? How do I return home without a shoe??”

“I think we should first somehow leave that pavement. I feel a little bit guilty but you just haven’t watched your steps.” He was still holding her tight and his eyes were disturbingly very close.

”And because of you I’ll be late. What am I going to say to my date?”

“I’m so sorry. I was just walking in the rain, daydreaming.”

Did she say something wrong? For a moment he stood completely still, watching her intently.

When he spoke again he was very businesslike,

and she preferred that way.

“Leave the shoe, give me those bags and hold my arm

I’ll catch a taxi for you. Let’s go.”

“But, I have no money, only for a tube.”

They still were standing in the middle of the pavement, like an island in the stream, people passed them, but something must have been done, she grimaced in pain, ”My foot hurts terribly, it’s from that cold."

He was a man of action, and very soon caught a taxi, put her inside, and her bags, but himself stayed outside.

‘Where do you live?”

“ In Acton”

“Where?” That was a taxi driver.

“High Street, Windmill.”

“The pub?”

“Do you know it?”

“Do I know it? What a pub! Mister please get in,

I can't park there really.”

The man looked at his watch, then at her and..he got in. 

“I think you still need my help, and Acton is not so

far, just put your foot on my knees. We need to warm it up.”

She wanted the taxi to never stop.

The warmth of his hands when he massaged her foot

..They didn’t look at each other, and they didn’t talk either

“High Street.’

The taxi driver’s voice brought them back to reality.

He let go of her foot and reached for his valet.

He took out an elegant ball pen and a notebook.

He wrote something, snatched the paper and handed it to her.

They smiled looking into each other's eyes,

like they were partners in crime.

“Just give it at the box office in the theatre, now leave,

I’m in a hurry”

So it was only when she was in her small room above the pub,

that she took the sheet of paper.

The man whose name was David Cassidy invited her

to see him in the evening in a play called “Blood Brothers”.

At The Phoenix Theatre.

She didn’t understand a word, never heard about

that theatre, the play or the man’s name.

Suddenly she remembered something.

It was many years ago, at school.

Someone brought a foreign teen magazine and in it,

she saw a face of such beauty

that she couldn't believe her eyes.

His name was David Cassidy, a teen idol and a singer.

But in her country behind the Iron Curtain, teen idols weren’t good examples for young people, and she never heard about him again..

Chapter 2

“Are you going out, Maria? I thought you spent this last evening with us?’

The man behind the bar counter was in his 60s, he was the owner, and he really liked this young woman from Eastern Europe.

She started working a few months ago as a cleaning lady, but she became much more, so smart, hard working and efficient, such a great help for him and his wife, and he was sorry she was leaving tomorrow.

“Sorry Rob, but  I’m going to the centre and I may be late..’

“That’s ok..Wow.. you look great! How I’ve never noticed it?”

She laughed, “You can't be glamorous while cleaning

toilets. Rob, I have a question and it’s important for me. Have you ever heard about..David Cassidy?”

“Of course, I have. An American singer. My oldest girl was crazy about him. He owes me a lot of money, really.

The albums, mags, and oh, that was hard, I had to go

to his concert with my Jane. That was terrible.’

"He was so bad?”

“Actually he was very good, Jane was playing his albums all the time, so you know, I heard this and that. He had a nice voice, but that concert at Wembley, in 1973 I think, the girls were screaming, were crazy about him.The 70s..strange times..Why are you asking?”

“Long story..You don’t know what happened to him?”

“No idea, Jane left home early and my boys weren’t

interested in music. Hope he still lives, I heard he was a party boy."

She wanted to spend his last evening with Rob and Helen, they were so good for her, more friends than employers.

It was a great idea to come to the UK after the divorce. Hard physical work, completely new environment,  that was what she needed.

Rob was disappointed but she couldn’t forget those hazel-green eyes.

She longed to see him once more.

The Phoenix Theatre..

His name in big bold letters and other names she

never heard of, and the play’s title ‘Blood Brothers”.

There were a lot of people outside, all the time taxis

stopped and elegant couples got off..

What she was doing there in her thin coat and plain

woolen dress.

But his eyes, she had to see him again..

Chapter 3

He loved that time after the show, when he could

close the door and be left alone in his dressing room.

He was sitting, drinking brandy and looking at his face in the mirror.

Still with makeup on.

He felt so ..empty and bored and tired.

He played that role more than 800 times..Enough.

He was disappointed that after the play became a hit

he didn’t get new, good propositions.

He would have to reinvent himself again..But not today..

It was nice to meet with Sandra after all those years,

but sex wasn’t as great as it used to be.

He felt bad telling Sue lies while their son was listening. It was a long day..

.He smiled when he remembered the young woman

who lost her shoe..Nice eyes and legs, smart and sexy..and she didn’t hear about him.

Women..so many of them..

Someone knocked on the door.

‘Excuse me, but one very nice lady asked me to give it to you.”

Two banknotes fell out of the envelope, a folded

sheet of paper and a snap pic. He lit a cigar and

reached for the pic.

Really, what an interesting and pretty face, very niceeyes and sensuous mouth.

She was smiling taking this pic and he smiled too.

And a letter..

“Dear Mr Cassidy,

‘Blood Brothers’ is the most strange play I’ve ever seen in my life.

Naive and sentimental.

No catchy songs.

Grown up people playing children.

I knew from the start that everything would end in

disaster.

But I loved every minute of it. I couldn’t take my

eyes off you.

You were that little boy, and later that troubled teen

and so deeply unhappy adult,

I believed in every word you said on stage.

And your voice..

I’ve forgotten how I loved music and tonight I

realised how my life was miserable without it.

I want to live again.

And all  because of you. 

Forever yours fan.

Maria xxx”