The summer breeze blew through my hair as I walked reflecting on what had just happened. This has been coming for a while, words have been said and we can’t go back. People try and give their advice but right now my feelings are hurt and my confidence is destroyed.

For as long as I can remember I have always wanted to sing. Standing in my local pub singing  ‘Summer Breeze’. I really thought I sounded great. Everyone watching and clapping as I finished. Singing gives me a happy feeling inside. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.

So, why did my best friend, Freda, decide to tell me that I sound like a pained cat? Jealous of my success she is determined to destroy me. I should ignore her but, how can I? If I really do sound like a pained cat, how can I stand on the stage?

Through all my recent performances she has been there, and she rarely smiled. It is either my singing or something is wrong. Maybe I should be trying to find out. rather than walking and feeling sorry for myself.

Walking now in the cool breeze, there was a crunching sound and then a rabbit hopped into my path. It saw me and ran, bobtail shining white as it bobbed up and down.

My heart feels heavy as I sit down under my usual tree. A woody glade, quiet and tranquil, this is my favourite place. I come here to think, to read and to write music. Years ago, I learned how to play the piano, being taught the musical notes by my teacher, Mrs Wight.  Remembering the times where she would be frustrated with me struggling to understand. Those times were all worth it, I wanted to be the next Elton John.

This morning in the ‘Red Lion’ singing and playing music, it had gone well. Until Freda had exploded and said,
“No more pubs, no more singing, you are making a fool of yourself.” I heard her but did not reply, what could I say? absolutely nothing.

Relaxing now under the tree in the breeze, I tried to forget what had happened and tried to dwell on the positive. Looking at my phone, a small Nokia, I could see there were no messages, no apologies. What had gone wrong?

* * * * *
Leaving the pub, Freda felt like her heart had been broken in two. Why had she taken things out on Ruby? Life had got too much for her. Ruby is so successful, she could not help comparing herself and depression was getting the better of her. Working a dead-end job in a supermarket she had asked herself if she was destined to just be Ruby’s groupie.

Ruby had always been better at everything, all through school she had always achieved better grades. In music class, she had always felt so far behind her. She could play the piano but could not sing at the same time. She could sing but not like her friend.

The afternoon sun was shining on her and the breeze kept her cool. As she walked, she wondered which way Ruby had gone. She longed to be home now, watching something on Netflix with Rex her Labrador asleep next to her. Something then changed everything.

“Stop, give me your bag.” She jumped, fear racing through her, as she was now confronted by a tall, tank-like man.

Throwing her bag at him, shaking and shuddering she now fell to the floor and began to cry.  Now looking a black mess as her eyeliner ran in streaks down her face. There was no one else around and this is the countryside. Her bag had contained her phone, her purse, her flat keys and photos of her parents.

Freda had lost her parents a few years before and she had always carried their picture with her. It had given her comfort. Now she really was feeling alone. Sat at the side of the road, she wanted to give up.

Remembering Rex and his doggie door she dragged herself up and continued to walk home. The police station was miles away and she doubted they would help her anyway.

* * * * *
I started to wonder now if Freda was alright. She had been horrible, but there must have been a reason. Dialing her number there was no answer. The phone just rang out. Feeling ignored I felt myself getting angry.

As the breeze was blowing it was now starting to get chilly, I stood up and brushed the leaves and dirt off me. Getting up, I decided I was going to try and find her. As I walked the atmosphere started to change. I slowed down as I had a strange sensation run through me and I could hear music. I was in a wood, where was the music coming from?

The world suddenly changed around me, I was now stood in a pub. I didn’t recognise it, but I did know the lady on the piano. I was then shocked to see myself. Singing   ‘Summer Breeze’ again, Freda was on the piano smiling and I was singing. Listening I wondered if I was actually performing better with not having to concentrate on playing the music.

Was this a sign? Should we be performing together? I felt like I had been taken here by something, a messenger to guide me to the answer. I listened a little longer as we started to perform one of my favourites,   Georgie Girl. Now thinking more about Freda, I now decided to go and find her. As I made this decision, the pub and music disappeared, and I was back in the wood. This had never happened before and I now wondered if I had dreamt it.

Heading now for Freda’s, I noticed a red Radley bag in the bushes. I recognised it immediately. Her keys were there and her phone, but her purse was missing. I hoped she had not got much cash in there. It would now be the hassle of phoning the bank to stop her cards.

Walking faster now I remembered Rex and his doggie door. I hoped that she had thought the same and was now home safely. As I reached her road, I could see that were lights were on, I breathed a sigh of relief. Reaching her door, I rang the bell. There was no answer. Opening the letterbox I called through it,
“Freda it’s me, Freda.” I could now hear Rex whining.

Now, what had happened? I reached into the bag for her keys. With no option but to let myself in, or use the doggie door, I was worried.

As I walked in, I could smell a strong smell. I now left the door open fearing the worse. Freda had had a problem with alcohol for a while but I hadn’t realised how bad. There lying on the floor in her own vomit was Freda and an empty bottle of ‘Bells.’ Looking at my watch I realised that I had been sat in the woods most of the afternoon.

I now put my phone on speaker and dialled 999. Then I looked over Freda to check if she was conscious. Panicking now as I could not find a pulse. Remembering all my CPR training I now checked her airway, wiped her mouth and proceeded to resuscitate her, she stank of whisky. I needed my friend to live.

Talking to the ambulance as I started chest compressions, relief washed over me as more vomit came up and she started to cough. The crew now arrived and took over. I let them look at her and went to feed Rex and give him some water.

Now putting her on a stretcher they were taking her to the local hospital. I had not realised things had got this bad.  I said goodbye to Rex and joined Freda in the ambulance. Holding her hand now I promised to be a better friend. As I spoke I felt her squeezing my hand, she had been through quite an ordeal.

I wondered now what she will say when I tell her what I saw in the woods. Will she want to join me singing rather than just watching? I felt that maybe things will get better from here. Music makes me happy so I hope it will help my friend.

For more see, The Old house, our fun playground

Written for  Grammys Grid story prompt -The summer breeze blew through my hair as I..

These New York City streets are always busy. The city high rises, the yellow cabs and the hustle and bustle of the people. I have lived here all my life and could not imagine being anywhere else. It was on this day that it happened, he happened.

Sitting in my office at the top of the New York Studio building. I struggled to concentrate on my paperwork. Being the office assistant, I did not have much of a voice around here. However, I hear things, things I shouldn’t hear. Things they would be afraid if they knew that I knew.

The top office was usually quiet, and I was often alone. People rarely spoke with me. This meant I was an expert at watching and reading people. Shut away in my own bubble, I was happy this way, until now.

Arriving at the New York office today, the street is busy as always. People going about their own business not aware of the dangers above them. Not aware of the secrets held within these walls. I had always kept my business to myself, so no one really knew me. They didn’t know the books I read, the television programs that I enjoyed or the man that had ripped out my heart and left me broken.

* * * * * * * * * *

The two men raced through the New York City streets. Both businessmen, both worth a lot of money. Where there is money there is greed and Royce and Henry certainly fit the description. Fast cars, women and gambling, could life get any better? Today was no exception, but today things had turned ugly. Business was business and when a client refuses to pay they have to be made to pay. There is no not paying.

Six months ago

David was a loner, trying to scrape a living. Needing money to invest in his new venture he needed to borrow money. All the major New York banks had refused him saying he was too much of a risk. Sitting in the bar, downing his third “Bells” of the evening he heard the two men talking. Trying to develop their business empire they now were looking to invest in something. Henry was short, round with fluffy grey hair. Royce was tall and bald.

The thought of going to a stranger disturbed him, but if he did not get the money that he needed he was scared that blonde Janice would leave him. Janice liked to be looked after, she wanted to have a comfortable life. Getting his business off the ground was important. He wanted to open a café on the New York street side. However, the bank did not agree that selling coffee was a lucrative business.

David had done his accounts and created his business case, he just needed someone to believe in him. Today was the day, he approached the two men with his folder under his arm.

“Hi, excuse me, sorry I couldn’t help overhearing you discussing investing.” Royce looked at Henry.
“Yes, sorry we were, what is it to you?” Henry smirked.
“I’m wanting to open a cafe, but the bank has refused to lend me a few thousand towards a deposit.”
“How much are you needing? Looking at Royce he said,
“About fifteen thousand dollars”
“Whew, what are you wanting that for?”

“To buy the café on the corner of Wells Street. Surely the New York office workers will be in for their Cappuccino and Latte’s.”
“So, how are you going to repay us?” asked Royce.
“From the business of course.”
“We want 20% of the profits, plus fifteen thousand dollars,” David thought about it.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you either buy a café or you don’t,” Henry said. Thinking about this David then said,
“Okay, let’s do this.”
“Right meet us here tomorrow, 7pm and we will have your cash. Just bring your passport with you.”

The next night, David anxiously met them, worried that he was making a big mistake but determined to start his new business.
Royce pulled his paperwork out of his briefcase.
“Proof of ID?”

David found his passport and Henry took a photograph of it. He then took out his pen.

“Here’s the forms agreeing that you will pay us back weekly”. David hesitated and then signed as Royce stood with a case full of cash.

Taking the money, David thanked them and walked out of the pub.

A few weeks later David opened ‘Street End Café’. A smart New York coffee shop with cake, sandwiches and coffee to go, aimed at the local office workers. Janice had been excited too. She loved baking cakes and really believed this could be a thriving business. Royce and Henry had become regulars. David and Janice were happy as their dreams were coming true.

New York Today

I listened to the men talking, something had happened. I had been in the café this morning, their Mocha coffees with the sprinkles are amazing. So, what had gone wrong? There was talk of someone being shot. An accident apparently, there was whispering but I could feel the guilt. I purposefully got up and walked out of my office to hear the short stout man say,
“She asked for it.”

I wondered what she had asked for, it was then that I heard the sirens outside. Racing back to the window I saw the ambulance and police cars. The New York street was a sea of people and now the police were putting their tape around the café. It had been emptied and now someone was coming out on a stretcher.

I now sat back in my chair, unsure of what to do next. Did I tell the police? After all, ‘she’ could have been anyone.

* * * * *

The men stood now, both in sweat by the water cooler. Had the office assistant heard them? They did not know. So, what next? They had gone to the café to demand their share of the takings. David had not been pleased to see them. Things had not been going as well as he had hoped.

Business had been slow and now paying back his loan plus 20% of the profits. He knew that he could not pay them back as quick as they had wanted. Arguing with the two men, Janice had quickly came to his defence. A few moments later there was a roar in the street of a motorbike and then what sounded like an explosion. Janice now lay on the floor with blood pooling around her chest.

Royce and Henry looked at each other both thinking, what the heck? Royce was stunned, he knew exactly who that was. Henry meanwhile hadn’t a clue. He believed that it was something the mouthy blonde had done. Not wanting to get involved they had rapidly left, leaving David to phone the police.

* * * * *

It was a hot day in New York as Paul Harris fired up his motorbike, he knew where he would find him. That man had been messing with his Catrina for months. He had no hard evidence. he just knew after seeing them together a few weeks before. She had been distant for a long time, so he had followed her suspecting the affair. Seeing her kissing the bald man had hurt and led him to seek revenge.

Now he needed to do something. He had acquired a pistol and knew how to use it. Having watched the two men, he knew where they were most weekdays around lunchtime. So, today he was going to get rid and get his wife back.

He thought he had got him, but he was shocked as the blonde waitress fell to the floor. He swore and continued past. This was not good, why had she got in the way?

* * * * *

That day the police came and spoke with everyone. Wanting to know if anyone knew anything. I was upset to hear that Janice had been killed. We had been friends, she was in her late twenties with her whole life ahead of her. On learning it was Janice I now told the police what I had overheard.

They thanked me and went to find the two men. About an hour later there was a knock at my door.
“Come in.” I said nervously. In walked Henry, alone and looking tired.

“We need to talk.”
“Yes.”
“You over heard Royce and me talking its not what you think.”
“What that you two shot her?”
“It was a man on a motorbike, it was some girls husband. We think he meant to get Royce, not Janice.”
“So, this is Royce’s fault.”
“Yes, but to be fair he did not know that the husband is a loon.”

“So, are the police now looking for him?”
“Yes, Royce recognised the bike, hopefully, they will soon bring him in.” I was stunned,

“This really is horrible, poor Janice and what about David? They haven’t been there long?
“Well, I think for a start we owe him his café. Long story but we helped him buy it.”
“My god, so you helped him buy a café, then got his wife killed.”

“Yes, but by accident. Royce will be more careful in the future.”
“He had better be, Janice was my friend. I felt a lump in my throat now. I knew that I was going to miss her friendly smiling face every morning. Coffee and a Janice made Muffin set the day right. They hadn’t been there long but wow they were a lovely couple.

It was a few days later that Royce returned to work. The news of the shooting was all over the New York newspapers and Janice had been confirmed dead on arrival at the hospital. David was devastated and the café was temporarily closed. I hoped it would reopen soon but losing his wife to a drive by shooting was not something he was going to get over straight away.

The media had leaked about Royce’s involvement and David swore that he wanted no more to do with him. The business was completely signed over to him and I’m not sure if Royce will ever get over the guilt. Yes, he loved to make money anyway that he could, and he loved women, but he did not mean for the blonde café owner to be killed.

* * * * *

The dark-haired man sat in his New York prison cell wondering to himself why his wife was more interested in the tall bald man. Was life really that bad? He sat and he thought of what he was going to do when he is released. Feeling no remorse for the blonde lady. All he cared about was getting even with the bald man, he was not going to get away with this.

Written for Write the story – on Writers Unite

For more see, Unrest on the farm