Paul McCartney's Coat

Home > Fiction > Paul McCartney's Coat > Page 18
Paul McCartney's Coat Page 18

by Michael White


  “As you’re leaving I’ll come with you” he said, “George the gardener lets me close up the gate at six but I don’t suppose it would make a great deal of difference if I close it up a bit earlier.”

  “I would think not” she said, and they gathered up their things and made their way along the path across the cemetery and past the church towards the gate. As they turned the corner of the church she stopped and looked back once at the headstone she had been tending earlier. Lost in thought she continued to look in that direction and as if from far away she said,

  “You think you’ll be with them forever, don’t you?”, and Ted noticed a slight catch in her throat, and her blue, blue eyes seemed almost to glisten in the fading sunlight.

  “Yes you do.” whispered Ted, and he was surprised to notice a slight catch in his voice too.

  She seemed to gather herself and on they went to the exit. As Ted made to lock up she turned to face him.

  “Thank you for the company... erm...”

  “Ted.” he said, and shook her hand.

  “Thank you, Ted” she said, and turned to go.

  “And what should I call you?” asked Ted as she began to make her way down the road.

  She turned to face him and a smile played across her face.

  “Well” she said and a wicked smile crossed her face. “You can call me anything you want...but my name is Veronica. Never Viv or Vi. Just Veronica.” and to Ted’s surprise she winked.

  “Good night Veronica” he shouted after her and she raised a hand in recognition but didn’t turn back and soon she was gone.

  Ted found himself smiling and turned back to lock the gate. Five minutes to the bus. He hurried down the lane and made it just in time.

  Veronica entered the churchyard and made her way to the headstone, cooperative carrier bag with flowers in it to hand. It would be handy for any weeds too, she thought as she knelt to commence work. It had been several days since her last visit, but she was not at all surprised to see Ted sitting on the bench not far from her. She waved across to him and he waved back.

  “I’ll be with you in a minute” she shouted across to him and he waved almost casually to her in acknowledgement. Busying herself at the graveside she replaced the flowers and placed the old ones in the bag. There were not many weeds but she duly picked the stragglers out and put them to one side. Rising she took the rubbish to the bin and then made her way to the bench.

  “Good morning, Ted” she said, sitting down. “How are you today?”

  “I’m fine and dandy” he smiled, and he looked it too, she thought. “Just taking in the sun” he continued.

  “It is lovely, isn’t it?” she said and then they sat in silence for a while. Veronica sneaked a look at him out of the corner of her eye. To her, Ted looked the perfect picture of composure, sitting taking in the sun, glancing from time to time to the playground across the way as the sounds of children's squeals rose from there, the swings moving back and forth as if in slow motion. It was a lovely hot and sunny day, one of those days when everything seems to move in slow motion, she thought. Just like one of those sports replays on television.

  “Penny for them” she said, and Ted smiled.

  “Well now - I was just wondering if you would like a cup of tea - I have plenty in my flask and I have brought two plastic cups with me. If you want one, of course...”

  “That would be marvellous” she said, and Ted got on with pouring the tea. It was surprisingly good, and she was surprised when Ted produced a couple of digestives too.

  So the days went. As May turned to June Veronica found herself spending more time at the cemetery with Ted. It seemed to her that he always seemed to be there! To her surprise she found herself changing her routine from visiting there from once a week to twice a week, and then three times a week. Ted always brought tea, and sometimes she took some cake. Not too often though. She did not want to be putting on too much weight!

  “..And so when I moved in to the flat I was a little bit at sixes and sevens with myself. It seemed almost like a rest home to me”

  “I’m sure I would have felt the same” nodded Veronica.

  “Well, II was a bit lost at first but I soon got used to it. Mrs Brady who is next door to me is very nice, even though she does sometimes have the Archers on the wireless just a little bit too loud. I was quite upset to find out I didn’t get my budgie though!” he laughed.

  “Sorry?” enquired Veronica, and she could see Ted starting to chuckle.

  “That son of mine - he played a trick on me - said when I took on the flat I got a free budgie!”

  Veronica chuckled as Ted started laugh just a little harder.

  “Mind you, he did also tell me that most old people didn’t know what to do with them so they thought they were provided to cook. He said ninety per cent of the poor budgies ended up in a pie...”

  Veronica giggled as Ted started to rock backwards and forwards with laughter.

  “I suspect there wouldn’t be very much meat on a budgie at all” laughed Veronica and Ted struggled to answer, laughing harder now, tears starting to form in the corner of his sparkling eyes.

  “True” he eventually managed. “Poor budgies!”

  They chuckled to themselves and then sat in silence for a while. This is one of the things I like, thought Veronica - we don’t have to talk to each other, we can sit in silence, taking in the sun, listening to the distant sounds of children playing, and be comfortable with that. She sighed to herself, this was very pleasant.

  Ted watched the trees moving slightly in the breeze and he realised he was enjoying this. Veronica was great company and they had a giggle together too, He felt pleased with himself for restoring the bench, and for meeting someone he could talk to. His flat was nice, but most of the old people there were... well, old, and Ted was astonished to find that he suddenly did not consider himself to be old anymore. In fact, was struggling to remember if he had ever felt that way.

  “look at those two pigeons on the church roof” said Veronica after a while, and Ted looked up to the sight of two pigeons sitting right next to each other on the apex of the roof. Ted laughed.

  “It almost looks as if they are cuddling up close together, doesn’t it?”

  “It does, doesn’t it? And they are there at this time every night. I think they may be watching the sun go down together.”

  Ted thought about this for a while, and it made him happy in some obscure way, and together they sat on the bench until well after six o’clock.

  June became July and the weather continued to impress. There were occasional bouts of rain, and Veronica and Ted would shelter under the eaves of the church entrance by the collection plate that was mounted on the wall there. Ted thought it was a very impressive and very old device. You placed your money on the plate and it spun down a slot into the collection box below. On the times that they were forced to take shelter there either one of them would leave a couple of pence on the plate as if by way of payment for the shelter provided.

  “Leave tuppence on the plate” Veronica would smile and wink, and Ted would laugh at that.

  “Tuppence? “ he would say, “How much is that nowadays?”

  “No idea” would grin Veronica, and sometimes she would wink too.

  July was not Ted’s favourite month but on that day they sat on the bench as usual, and Veronica was telling Ted about a book she had just read.

  “..And this lady says that if you make a wish list - almost like a shopping list perhaps, and if you wish hard enough then these wishes can come true.”

  “Humph” grunted Ted who, Veronica thought didn’t look too impressed.

  “Well, “ continued Veronica, “for example she made a wish that she wanted to live in a castle , and lo and behold shortly after she found herself living in a castle..”

  “Is she American, by any chance?” asked Ted.

  “I believe so” said Veronica. “why?”

  “Only a damned fool yank would c
ome up with such a foolish idea. And I’ll bet she already knew someone who lived in a castle, anyway!”

  “I’m not sure...” continued Veronica, though she did seem to recollect something in the book that said precisely that, but Ted interrupted her.

  “Sounds like foolish nonsense to me - anything I’ve ever had I got through sheer hard graft! Not bloody wishing for it like something out of a Disney film. Never heard the like.” and he sniffed loudly, as if dismissing the idea completely.

  Veronica sat in silence for a while. This wasn’t at all like Ted. He seemed a bit grumpy today, and the laughter seemed to have vanished from his eyes. She was wondering if she had something to upset him, but if that was the case then she couldn't think for the life of her what it was.

  Veronica looked up at the church roof where a solitary pigeon sat on the roof of the church.

  “Have you noticed?” she said, and Ted looked puzzled.

  “The pigeon on the church roof. It is all by itself today. It was yesterday, too.”

  “Probably a cat’s had the other one” said Ted before he had time to think. “probably glad of the peace and quiet too.”

  Veronica looked startled at this, and Ted instantly regretted saying it, but there it was. It was said and you could not take it back.

  “Really?” said Veronica, and there was an icy tone to her voice that Ted had not heard before.

  “Well if that’s the case I’ll be on my way.”

  Ted paused, trying to think of some way to take the words back.

  “I didn’t mean you, Veronica” he said, and he meant it. But Veronica wasn’t having any of it. Ted felt awful. He hadn’t told her why he was out of sorts and now he’d ended up upsetting her.

  “Veronica..” he began, keen to make amends, but she interrupted him.

  “I thought you were different, Ted! But it would appear that I was wrong. Good day to you.” and she left. Ted shouted after her, but she ignored him and was soon gone. Ted wondered (not for the last time) if he should have mentioned it was five years to the day that his wife had died, and that was the reason he was out of sorts, but of course it was far too late now.

  As dusk settled on him, he glanced up at the solitary pigeon sitting on the church roof and felt sadder than he had done for the last five years. As darkness fell he left the cemetery, and wandered aimlessly down the lane for the bus.

  Days passed. A cold spell moved in and the rain was more frequent than it had been for a while and so Ted was resigned to sheltering under the eaves of the church entrance. Even he however could not stay there all of the time, and so he resigned himself to going there at different times. Whatever time he went though, he constantly failed to catch Veronica there at all.

  He could tell that she had been there, of course. The headstone she tended so carefully always had fresh flowers, and a few times he noticed a coop carrier bag in the litter bin containing rubbish Yet somehow they continually missed each other. Ted continued going however, but the sight of the solitary pigeon sitting on the church roof made him feel old. Made him feel stupid. Made him feel lonely.

  August came, and with it the sun returned. Ted resigned himself to sitting on the bench for most of the day, carefully watching the gate where Veronica would make her entrance, and still nothing. After a few days Ted noticed the headstone she tended was getting slightly overgrown, the flowers laid so carefully there brown and drooping. The next time he went Ted took some flowers and carefully weeded the grave, but still there was no sign of Veronica. It looked as if she was not coming any more. Perhaps something had happened to her? Ted was full of doubt and fury at himself for being so stupid, he did not have any idea at all even where she lived! And yet as the second week in August commenced he began to consider that winter was approaching, and he certainly wasn’t going to be able to sit all day in the churchyard then. He’d catch his death, for sure.

  Yet still no Veronica, and a single pigeon cooing softly to itself as dusk fell just that little bit earlier each day.

  Yet Ted was not the kind of man to rest on his laurels. He decided to do something about it. The next day when he returned to the bench he had his woodwork chisel, a small square of sandpaper and a tin of varnish with him. As hot August sun fell upon the cemetery he set to work.

  First of all he diligently selected an unmarked part of the bench back slats before diligently removing a small patch of the varnish he had so carefully applied a few months before, carefully sanding it down to the wood. Then, with the small wood carving chisel he carved a large heart with an arrow through it, and wrote the names Ted and shortened Veronica’s name to Vi. A large letter “L” joined the two in the middle. Standing back to admire his work he re-varnished the back of the bench and having marked “wet varnish” on the floor with a piece of chalk he had taken with him for exactly that job, he left early and caught the bus home.

  The next day Ted bought his flowers from the shop at the corner of his street and waited for the bus that took him to the churchyard. Normally he was pretty punctual but today he was held up by a small queue in the shop and so missed his bus. As they only ran every half hour he waited patiently for the next one, and so was a little later than usual when he arrived at the churchyard.

  As he made his way from the gate and around the corner of the church his heart skipped a beat. There on the bench across the cemetery sat Veronica, carrier bag at her side, waiting patiently. Nervously he made his way towards her. As he approached she shaded her hand against the sun and smiled as he approached.

  “Good Morning, Ted”

  “Good Morning” replied Ted, and he took his place on the bench next to her, his heart thumping. He casually looked up at the church roof to see if the solitary pigeon was there but of course it was far too early in the day for it.

  “Where on Earth have you been, Veronica? “Asked Ted, “I was beginning to think something awful had happened to you!”

  Veronica grinned. “Oh, I’m fine - I just had to go to my sisters for a week or so - she hasn’t been terribly well lately”

  “Besides,” she grinned, “I can’t die yet - I haven’t been to Portugal.”

  “What?” asked Ted, the explanation for her absence making him feel even better about her re-appearance. “You want to go to Portugal?”

  Veronica grinned. “Well I did, “she said, “But I can’t help but feel it would invite trouble now. There’s always the Isle of Wight.” and at that they both laughed aloud.

  “Veronica, I need to tell you why I was grumpy the...” but Veronica waved her hand at him and interrupted him.

  “Ted, I am not stupid - you weren’t yourself that day and I failed to spot that at the time. However it’s simply not like you at all to be like that. We both have a lot of history between us, I would imagine. Probably some anniversary or the like - I would imagine. Am I right?” Ted nodded. “well, there we are - I shouldn’t be such an over-sensitive so and so. Consider it forgotten.”

  Ted felt so relieved he felt as if his heart was about to burst. Slowly - perhaps even cautiously, he reached over and took one of her hands in his. To his relief she did not resist at all.

  “Veronica - I...” he stuttered.

  “Shush” she said, and placed one of the fingers from her other hand across his lips.” “I have seen the heart you carved. You don’t have to say anything else. The last two weeks have been miserable.”

  Ted blushed. They settled into silence, sitting in the sun, enjoying each other’s company as they sat together holding hands.

  “I’m not sure about Vi though” she chuckled. “My mother and father would be spinning in their graves if they saw that!” And they both chuckled.

  The sun seemed to grow hotter as the afternoon grew longer and they sat there chatting about this and that, coyly holding hands. Eventually, later on, the solitary pigeon re-appeared on the church roof, cooing to itself.

  “Ted” Veronica suddenly said, startling him just a little. He turned to face her. “How di
d you know?” Ted nearly asked “know what?” but he knew exactly what she meant. He moved towards her, holding both of her hands with his now.

  “It was very simple, really” he said, “It was the pigeon.”

  “The pigeon.” she nodded. “It made you aware of how lonely a man you were?”

  “There was that” he said, “but that wasn’t it, really - it was a part of it, but not the real reason.” Veronica raised her eyebrows, saying nothing, willing him to go on.

  “It’s quite simple, really. I came to realise that if ever in your life you meet someone who notices two little pigeons cuddling together on a roof, and feels sad when only one of them appears one day, sat there all on its own.. Well, “she looked at him, tears forming in the corners of her eyes

  “Well - it would be an incredibly foolish thing to spend the rest of your life without such a person, wouldn’t it?”

  Veronica nodded and it seemed to Ted that at that point the sun shone a little brighter, lasted a little longer. Eventually however, the sun began to fade and they made ready to make the journey home.

  “Don’t forget the collection plate” said Veronica, and Ted nodded. Making their way around the churchyard they passed the church itself, and leaving tuppence on the plate, they hurried down the path and through the gate and waited to board the bus that ambled down the street.

  Liverpool

  Michael White

  (Copyright © 2012)

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. (Except for me, and I am on page seven.)

  The author can be contacted via the links below.

  Website: www.michaelkwhite.co.uk

  Email: [email protected]

  Twitter: @mikewhite2011

  Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B006Y7JHCK

 

‹ Prev