Wish You Were Here

The sun was setting as we sat on our log. The air was beautifully cool and fresh and I adored it here. I’d not been here for a while and remembered the time when I’d first moved here from Scotland, adamant that I’d hate it but now…now I loved it, it was home to me and I knew it always would be.

I couldn’t live here though, it was too quiet to live here day in and day out, I enjoyed working in a city, where everything was happening. No, I couldn’t live here but I still adored coming here and I knew Tre did too.

“This log seems smaller than I remember it,” said Tre.

“That’s because you have a bigger butt than you used to have,” I said and for a moment it was as though there wasn’t this bridge between us, I could forget for an instant that he was cross with me, that something was bothering him. It was almost like it was when we were younger when we had no worries at all.

“So, shall we open this…time capsule thing then?” He said to me. In his hand was a rusty old biscuit tin, the picture on the front faded to practically nothing.

“Its hardly a time capsule, just some rusty old tin with our old crap inside,” I said. But when we’d buried it, we’d really put our hearts into it and I felt awful calling it crap especially knowing that Tre had put the first drumsticks he’d ever owned inside.

He opened it, it just fell open because it was so rusted up. He laid it between us on the log and I smiled at its contents.

“Your favourite drumsticks,” I said taking them out of the tin, “just look how battered they are.”

“At one point they were the only pair I had. Now I can afford a truck full of them,” said Tre taking the drumsticks and running his fingers along them, remembering.

“Oh. My. God. Look at us here,” I said taking out a photograph that we’d got my father to take just before we put it into the tin, he’d taken it on one of those instant cameras and the colours of the photograph had faded quite significantly.

“We had that taken few days after you’d first dyed my hair green,” said Tre. A huge smile erupted on his face and it was so good to see, one of his huge, natural grins and not the smile I’d seen just recently, the kind that was more of a sneer than a smile.

“Jules you look….” Then he stopped, he didn’t say anymore.

“I look what?” I said to him as I picked a pair of earrings out of the tin. Why the fuck had I put earrings in and then I remembered, not long before we’d had this idea I’d had my ears pierced so I suppose they were kind of appropriate at the time.

“You look quite pretty here,” he said. He was staring at the photograph. I took it from him to see what he was talking about.

It was of the two of us and it was taken here, on our log. Tre had his arm around my shoulders and he was pulling a face, a face that I’d seen so many times on the covers of magazines and adorning posters, that look that was just original to him. My hair was long and blond and I noticed the hand of Tre’s that was not around my shoulder was actually holding on to some of the long strands of my hair. We both looked so very young and I must admit he did look quite good-looking.

“You actually don’t look too bad yourself in that shot,” I said to him remembering our times together. They were the best.

“What’s this?” said Tre obviously finding something else in the tin.

“It looks like a cassette tape of something, and I think I know what it is,” I said to him.

“Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here…of course,” said Tre. “I must admit, I haven’t really listened to it for ages…you?”

“No. Not properly, I’ve heard snatches of it when its been played on the radio but not…not properly like we used to listen to it.”

Suddenly Tre shifted on the log and began fumbling around in his jacket pocket and brought out his mini ipod. The headphones were already attached and he gave me one of them to plug in.

I knew then he was going to play it, our song. It had always been our song and as it began it sent a tingle down my spine as I closed my eyes and listened. After a while we started singing and of course we got louder at our usual part and when the song ended Tre was looking at me. He was smiling and for a moment then, I had the old Tre back.

“Thanks for being with me when I told them,” I said to Tre later that evening.

“You haven’t got to thank me Jules, not at all,” said Tre. He was making hot chocolate, at the end of quite a tiring and emotional day. We’d brought the time capsule tin home with us but had left it out in his car.

“Tre I’ve decided something, I think I’ll come to this meeting you’re all having after all. I think I’d really like to come along.” I’d decided on the way home that I’d go, I’d missed being with all the guys and felt slightly apart from them, I thought by going to the meeting they were having about this tour then…then I would feel almost part of it again.

“Hey, that’s great Jules,” Tre said looking genuinely pleased. “Do you think you’ll come out and be with us on tour, you know, do our hair?” He said.

“I’m not sure about that but I have a colour in mind that would suit you, and it would cover the couple of stray grey hairs that you have at the sides,” I said then winked at him.

“Don’t remind me about those greys.” He said bringing over the steaming mugs of hot chocolate.

“Well, the young girls don’t seem to mind them,” I said reaching for my mug. “What are you trying to prove Tre? That you’ve still got it. You know you have it, you’re famous, and you’re in a rock band. Of course you have it. You could have most women so why flaunt it in front of your daughter?” I said. Shit, I’d gone too far and had now spoilt the day. We’d got along just fine; it had been like old times and now I’d brought that up.

“I don’t know why, I don’t know why I feel the need to go out and drink most nights, I don’t know why I feel the need to pick up women, young women and bring them back here. I just….don’t know. All I know is that I need to get away from here, to get away on this tour and play.” He said.

Suddenly I felt sorry for him; he’d been through a crap time too after the break up of his marriage with Claudia. He didn’t get to see Frankito as much as he’d liked. I was sure this was the reason. May be he did love Claudia after all and she didn’t love him back, perhaps he wanted what they’d had. Poor Tre, I just wish he’d open up to me a little bit more, we’d always talked about anything. Any time, any place. Anything.

Just then the phone went and Tre went off to answer it as I sipped at my hot chocolate. He always did make the best hot chocolate, thick and creamy, he’d always made it for me when I’d felt low, he’d made dozens of mugs of hot chocolate for me over the years.

“That was Jason,” Tre said as he came back into the kitchen, “he…he wondered if I’d go out with him this evening, have a few drinks, you know.” He said.

“But its so late Tre,” I said glancing at my watch. “Its gone eleven, are you sure you want to go out at this time?” I said slightly disappointed, I was enjoying our time together.

“Yeah…yeah I think so,” said Tre reaching over for his jacket that was hanging on the back of the chair where he’d slung it when we’d come back.

Then he looked at me apologetically, “I’m sorry Jules, I…I can’t help it,” he said then he winked at me; a small wink then left the kitchen.

I heard the front door click shut and turned my head to Tre’s mug of steaming hot chocolate, untouched and unlikely to be and felt sad. Sad because he was obviously troubled and for some reason he wasn’t telling me why.

Closing the door behind him Tre knew that he was being a fool. He didn’t want to go for a drink with Jason, not at this time of night anyway and he knew it would end up him being drunk, him picking up some extremely young and beautiful willing girl, he’d bring her back here, he knew he would and he knew why he was doing it.

It was to mask the fact that he was in love with Jules, the one he really wanted to spend the night with.

And she didn’t have a clue.