Lovely Rita
Chapter 20
I coughed up a river of blood onto the pavement, and started to see things through almost drunken eyes. The familiar busy streets with cars lining the roads. They'd probably just assume I was some alcoholic student that had a bad night out. Oh, how wrong they'd be...
I sat up when my vision returned fully, and scanned around. No one was even stopping to help me. This just proves how much better the sixties were...
I pulled myself up with the bollard, and moped my way to my student house. I was feeling extremely depressed. I furked around in my pocket to find my keys, only to be presented with a note. I furrowed my eyebrows, before pulling out the small sheet of pink lined paper and unfolding it.
"Check your mail. PM. x" it read.
"I wasn't fucking dreaming..." I whispered to myself. I checked under the mat for the spare key and let myself in. I couldn't deal with knocking, even when it was being carried out by yours truly.
I turned the key and pushed the door open, and heard talking from the living room. My friends were definitely back. They wouldn't have heard me. I closed the door, and on turning, realised that the package I had picked up from Pete the other day hadn't been taken by any of the guys. I took it and wandered into the lounge. I probably looked so disgusting and dishevelled.
"Hey guys, did none of you even check the mail?" I said, holding up the square, flat parcel tied in crappy brown paper.
There was a pause and they all went silent and turned. In unison. It was terrifying. I dropped my arm down.
"Rita... Where have you been?!" Mickey yelled, getting up and brushing down my dirty shoulders and twiddling road debris off of my hair.
"Just a little accident." I said, not wanting to bring back memories and make myself cry.
"You've been gone days... Why didn't you tell us you were going to be out so long?" They all looked so concerned. I owed them some explanation. I came up with my best excuse.
"I, uh, stayed at Pete's. Yeah. Dirty stop out, I know!" I said, making a stupid effort to make a joke in the downtrodden mood I was in.
"And you got a bloody mouth and dirty clothes? Jeez, what did you guys do?!" Mickey laughed. At least he'd taken the hint. "That parcel's for you by the way. Didn't want to open it." He smiled, before going back to the mundane morning television with the rest of them. I much preferred being back in the old days when we sat around playing instruments.
I looked at the adressee. It was handwritten in scrawly handwriting. An artist's handwriting... Paul's. 'Lovely Rita' and my address, with a 1960s stamp. I put a hand to my mouth and wandered silently into my room, tearing open the brown paper to reveal that record. The record that had intrigued me all that time in NEMS. It was here, in my hands. It was the very first demo he'd recorded at his house of 'Lovely Rita'. I was gobsmacked. I laughed to myself. "This can't be fucking happening..." I whispered. A note poking out of the sleeve caught my eye.
"To my Lovely Rita,
I'm sorry you had to go so soon. I had the best time, and I hope to live a long and happy life with you when you return home to me. Promise you'll never forget me, and come back to me soon. I love you, nothing can come between us.
All my loving, Paul. x"
I read the note, and rounded it off by pouring jugs of tears silently from my eyes. I slid the record and the note back into the sleeve and displayed it up on my shelf.
I walked over to my bed and just sat there for a minute, reeling in my sadness like it was the biggest fish in the world.
I heard a knock at my door and I just grunted incomprehensibly. My door creaked open and someone walked in.
I looked up, and subliminally said "Paul?" to my surprise.
"Um, no... Pete..." He replied. Shit.
I clapped a hand to my mouth and sat up in my bed. "Pete... I'm so sorry."
"Your friends let me in. I see you finally unwrapped your parcel then?" He said, pointing awkwardly to the record. I looked at it, biting my quivering lip.
"Um, yeah... Where did you find that?" I asked, genuinely curious now.
"It was backlogged at the post office from the sixties somewhen. Obviously some lady with the same name as you had an admirer. Kind of weird, huh?" He smiled, realising I was a bit shaken up. He sat next to me on my bed and touched my hand. I felt dirty. I didn't like this. I liked Pete of course, and he was a lovely man, but being with Paul had made me only want him. I froze at his touch and he noticed, moving his hand away.
"Rita, are you okay honey-"
"Don't call me 'honey pie'. Please." I said welling up, remembering the sound of Paul's voice saying it. Pete was so similar, if not his personality then his appearance. It hurt too much.
"Sorry, Rita. Look, I just came to check how you are. It's fine if you want me to leave." He said. I looked up and into his eyes, taking in the brown orbs that looked intensely into mine.
"Pete... I... I'm going to be leaving in a while. I didn't want you to get your hopes up about this. I really, truly hope we can still be friends, but if not I totally and honestly understand. I like you Pete, I do, but I need to do this. It's a personal thing. I hope that's okay..." I trailed off, looking down to avoid his gaze. He noticed my worry. He pulled my chin up, and the dizziness that still slightly plagued me buzzed in my eyes.
"Look, it's fine. We've only been on one date. I just got worried after you didn't call me for days is all. I hope you do well in whatever it is that you need to do." He said, and kissed me on the forehead. I let out a tear for two reasons; one that he was clearly a bit upset, and two, because Paul had done that before I'd left.
And with that, Pete walked out of my life. I did nothing for the rest of the day but cry until I fell asleep.
I sat up when my vision returned fully, and scanned around. No one was even stopping to help me. This just proves how much better the sixties were...
I pulled myself up with the bollard, and moped my way to my student house. I was feeling extremely depressed. I furked around in my pocket to find my keys, only to be presented with a note. I furrowed my eyebrows, before pulling out the small sheet of pink lined paper and unfolding it.
"Check your mail. PM. x" it read.
"I wasn't fucking dreaming..." I whispered to myself. I checked under the mat for the spare key and let myself in. I couldn't deal with knocking, even when it was being carried out by yours truly.
I turned the key and pushed the door open, and heard talking from the living room. My friends were definitely back. They wouldn't have heard me. I closed the door, and on turning, realised that the package I had picked up from Pete the other day hadn't been taken by any of the guys. I took it and wandered into the lounge. I probably looked so disgusting and dishevelled.
"Hey guys, did none of you even check the mail?" I said, holding up the square, flat parcel tied in crappy brown paper.
There was a pause and they all went silent and turned. In unison. It was terrifying. I dropped my arm down.
"Rita... Where have you been?!" Mickey yelled, getting up and brushing down my dirty shoulders and twiddling road debris off of my hair.
"Just a little accident." I said, not wanting to bring back memories and make myself cry.
"You've been gone days... Why didn't you tell us you were going to be out so long?" They all looked so concerned. I owed them some explanation. I came up with my best excuse.
"I, uh, stayed at Pete's. Yeah. Dirty stop out, I know!" I said, making a stupid effort to make a joke in the downtrodden mood I was in.
"And you got a bloody mouth and dirty clothes? Jeez, what did you guys do?!" Mickey laughed. At least he'd taken the hint. "That parcel's for you by the way. Didn't want to open it." He smiled, before going back to the mundane morning television with the rest of them. I much preferred being back in the old days when we sat around playing instruments.
I looked at the adressee. It was handwritten in scrawly handwriting. An artist's handwriting... Paul's. 'Lovely Rita' and my address, with a 1960s stamp. I put a hand to my mouth and wandered silently into my room, tearing open the brown paper to reveal that record. The record that had intrigued me all that time in NEMS. It was here, in my hands. It was the very first demo he'd recorded at his house of 'Lovely Rita'. I was gobsmacked. I laughed to myself. "This can't be fucking happening..." I whispered. A note poking out of the sleeve caught my eye.
"To my Lovely Rita,
I'm sorry you had to go so soon. I had the best time, and I hope to live a long and happy life with you when you return home to me. Promise you'll never forget me, and come back to me soon. I love you, nothing can come between us.
All my loving, Paul. x"
I read the note, and rounded it off by pouring jugs of tears silently from my eyes. I slid the record and the note back into the sleeve and displayed it up on my shelf.
I walked over to my bed and just sat there for a minute, reeling in my sadness like it was the biggest fish in the world.
I heard a knock at my door and I just grunted incomprehensibly. My door creaked open and someone walked in.
I looked up, and subliminally said "Paul?" to my surprise.
"Um, no... Pete..." He replied. Shit.
I clapped a hand to my mouth and sat up in my bed. "Pete... I'm so sorry."
"Your friends let me in. I see you finally unwrapped your parcel then?" He said, pointing awkwardly to the record. I looked at it, biting my quivering lip.
"Um, yeah... Where did you find that?" I asked, genuinely curious now.
"It was backlogged at the post office from the sixties somewhen. Obviously some lady with the same name as you had an admirer. Kind of weird, huh?" He smiled, realising I was a bit shaken up. He sat next to me on my bed and touched my hand. I felt dirty. I didn't like this. I liked Pete of course, and he was a lovely man, but being with Paul had made me only want him. I froze at his touch and he noticed, moving his hand away.
"Rita, are you okay honey-"
"Don't call me 'honey pie'. Please." I said welling up, remembering the sound of Paul's voice saying it. Pete was so similar, if not his personality then his appearance. It hurt too much.
"Sorry, Rita. Look, I just came to check how you are. It's fine if you want me to leave." He said. I looked up and into his eyes, taking in the brown orbs that looked intensely into mine.
"Pete... I... I'm going to be leaving in a while. I didn't want you to get your hopes up about this. I really, truly hope we can still be friends, but if not I totally and honestly understand. I like you Pete, I do, but I need to do this. It's a personal thing. I hope that's okay..." I trailed off, looking down to avoid his gaze. He noticed my worry. He pulled my chin up, and the dizziness that still slightly plagued me buzzed in my eyes.
"Look, it's fine. We've only been on one date. I just got worried after you didn't call me for days is all. I hope you do well in whatever it is that you need to do." He said, and kissed me on the forehead. I let out a tear for two reasons; one that he was clearly a bit upset, and two, because Paul had done that before I'd left.
And with that, Pete walked out of my life. I did nothing for the rest of the day but cry until I fell asleep.