Chapter 26
SLATE
Nancy has such a fantastic voice, Slate thought as he listened to her sing ‘Keep on Walking’.
She sounded like she was singing from the heart too.
She’d really embraced the soul of the song.
He wondered if she was singing about her runaway husband.
He’d composed the song after Suzie had left him.
It had been an act of defiance, letting her know that he could manage without her.
He had, too, but it had been difficult, and he and Jed had endured some hard times.
Still, they’d got through, and Jed had done nicely for himself.
He knew that his son worried about him, that he hadn’t got a permanent home, nothing to show for his life, as he put it.
Slate didn’t care about that. Nothing was permanent, not even life itself.
He’d brought his lad up and now he was happy to drift through every day, getting what happiness he could.
‘Nancy’s good,’ Decaf said admiringly when they were packing up the gear after the gig.
‘We could do with a singer like her,’ Oxo said. ‘Do you think she’d be up for joining the band?’
Slate shrugged. ‘No idea. She’s a bit shy but we could ask her.’
‘Let’s do that. I reckon she’d bring more people in. That’s if she’s willing to do it for a pittance and the love of it, as we do.’ This was from Decaf.
‘I could be your singer.’ Muriel pouted.
‘Honey, I adore you, but you can’t sing. You’re gorgeous, but you’re a flat note,’ Decaf told her, giving her a hug.
Slate noticed the scowl on Muriel’s face, but what Decaf said was true. He’d lived with them. Muriel’s singing was more like screeching. Nancy though, she was really good. But she also wasn’t very confident.
‘I think maybe let her come along and join in a few more times, then I’ll ask her,’ Slate said. He didn’t think Nancy had the self-assurance to do it right now. She was like a butterfly emerging from the constricting chrysalis of a safe-but-boring marriage. This would be a biggie for her.
‘Let’s arrange a practice session this week at mine,’ he said. ‘I’ll find out when Nancy’s home and we’ll do it then, and I reckon she’ll not be able to resist joining in. The more she sings with us, the more confident she’ll get.’
He knew that Nancy only worked four days a week, because her ex had wanted her to have a day to catch up on housework and chores, but didn’t have the same day off each week, whereas Jackie and Phyllis both worked a five-day week. He’d keep his ears open and find out what day she was off this week.
As luck would have it, he overheard Nancy and Phyllis talking as they sat eating breakfast the next day before setting out for the holistic fayre. ‘I’m off on Wednesday this week so I’ll have a go then,’ Nancy said.
‘What are you going to have a go at?’ Slate asked, walking in. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude but I couldn’t help overhearing.’
Nancy flushed a little. ‘Phyllis has been telling me how she decorated that gorgeous waistcoat she loaned me last night, so I thought I’d have a go at doing my jeans too.’
Slate nodded. ‘Sounds like a good idea.’ He opened the bread bin and took out his loaf. ‘Are you planning on coming to our gig next Saturday then?’
‘Definitely. So’s Jackie, she’s actually rearranged a date so that she can come.’ Hughie hadn’t lasted long and Jackie was now seeing someone called Joel, who was at least fifteen years younger than her.
‘If there’s only the two of you, then you can come in the van again,’ Slate told her. Hopefully, he’d be able to coax Nancy to sing a song or two. Especially if she joined in the band practice on Wednesday.
He made himself some toast for breakfast and then headed off to see his son, Jed.
‘I was about to message you,’ Jed told him. ‘One of my clients works in a letting agency so I’ve asked him to let me know when a flat comes up. Hopefully, you’ll have your own place again soon. I hate to think of you living in one room.’
‘I don’t live in one room, we all have use of most of the house and are all getting on great.’
‘Dad, you’re in your sixties. You need some stability in your life.
You can’t keep house-sharing.’ Jed sounded exasperated.
‘You’ll be getting your pension soon. You need to think about preparing for your old age.
Something you should actually have done years ago!
’ He ran his hands through his hair. ‘I can’t believe I’m having to have this conversation with my father.
Boomers are supposed to be settled, with their mortgages paid off and enough of a pension to help them live their life in comfort, but you don’t even have a stable job.
I don’t understand why you gave up teaching.
You’d be on a good pension now.’ Slate had taught English literature at secondary school until Jed started work, then he’d switched to tutoring adult education classes.
Slate groaned. Jed just wouldn’t let up or accept that Slate was happy with how he lived his life. ‘Because it was too stressful. I enjoy my work and bring in enough money for my needs,’ he said. ‘And that’s all that matters.’
He suspected that Jed – and Rosie – were concerned that they might have to look after him in his old age.
Well, there was no way that was going to happen.
He wasn’t going to be tucked into an armchair in their front room, watching daytime TV and going to bed at ten o’clock with a hot chocolate.
He was going to rock until he dropped! Although, as Jed had pointed out he did have to sort out a more permanent living arrangement.
This was only supposed to be temporary. Nothing suitable had come up as yet, not that he’d looked much in the past few weeks.
He was beginning to feel settled in Nancy’s house, and that wasn’t good as Nancy had told him that she’d have to sell the house next year when her mortgage had to be redeemed.
‘So can I tell him to contact you when a flat becomes available?’ Jed asked.
Slate nodded. ‘Sure, but I want to stay in this area. And thanks, Jed.’
Rosie came in then, laden with two bags of shopping. Slate immediately jumped up to take them from her.
‘Thank you,’ she said, shooting a meaningful glance at Jed.
‘I was about to get them off you, but Dad got there first,’ he said in an injured tone.
‘Sure you were.’
Jed put the kettle on. ‘Cuppa?’ he asked.
Rosie nodded. ‘Will you stay for lunch, Slate? I’ve got quiche and salad?’
‘Thanks, but I have to be off in a bit, need to see the lads about a rehearsal.’
Jed rolled his eyes and Rosie’s eyes clouded with concern as they flitted over him. ‘You’re always dashing around. And I think you’re losing weight. Are you eating properly? It must be difficult living in one room.’
‘I don’t live in one room, I house-share,’ Slate repeated in exasperation. ‘And yes, I am eating properly.’
Jed passed Rosie a mug of instant coffee and turned to Slate. ‘Do you have time for another one, Dad?’
‘Sorry but I’ve got to go. See you both soon. Enjoy the peace before the sprogs come in.’
‘Sprogs’ was his affectionate nickname for his grandchildren, Jess and Tristan.
They were good kids but at that teenage rebellious stage, which was exhausting.
Kids seemed to grow up so much later nowadays.
Not like when he was young. He had a part-time job at fourteen, full-time at fifteen and now they were in education until eighteen and mollycoddled so much by their parents – Rosie panicked if Jess or Tristan didn’t reply to a message within five minutes – that he wondered how they were ever going to cope on their own.
Still, he guessed every older generation despaired over the younger ones.
He remembered his dad having a fit at his long hair, and his sister Kath’s miniskirts.
Pretty much like Jed and Rosie were despairing over his lifestyle now, he thought with a smile.
* * *
When he got back home, Oxo turned up on his motorbike. ‘I’ve been for a spin so thought I’d drop in,’ he said. He looked around. ‘None of the girls in?’
‘Nope and I’ve just got back myself. Want a beer? I’ve got a couple of bottles of zero chilling.’
‘Sure.’ Oxo followed him inside, took off his helmet and placed it on the kitchen table as Slate opened the fridge to take out the beer.
People were often surprised to discover that tall, skinny, unassuming Oxo rode a motorbike and was part of a rock band.
His day job was as an electrician and he was a bit nerdy.
Decaf was the only one who fitted the rock band image.
He was a builder and rode a bike too. Slate’s motorbike had finally bitten the dust last year and he hadn’t got around to replacing it yet, there had been no rush as he had the van, and used Decaf’s bike before Muriel came along.
They were both sitting in the garden enjoying their beer in the afternoon sun when the back door opened and Jackie came out. ‘Whose is that Harley outside?’ she exclaimed.
Slate noticed a flush creep over Oxo’s cheeks as he slid his glasses further up his nose. ‘It’s mine,’ he mumbled.
Jackie’s eyes widened. ‘Yours! Wow! It’s a real beast. I’d love to go for a spin on it.’
‘We can go now if you want.’ Oxo put the can down. ‘I’ve got a bit of time to spare and an extra helmet in the saddlebag.’
‘Fab! Give me two secs to change into my jeans.’ Jackie disappeared and returned a few minutes later dressed in denims, T-shirt and a leather jacket. ‘I’m ready.’
* * *
‘Is Jackie out here?’ Nancy asked coming out into the garden little while later.
‘Oxo’s taking her for a ride on his motorbike.’
Nancy looked at him in surprise. ‘Motorbike? He’s a bit of a dark horse, isn’t he?’
When Jackie and Oxo returned almost an hour later, both their faces were glowing and they were talking away, very animated.
Was something going on with those two? Slate wondered.
Did Oxo come here this afternoon hoping that Jackie would be in then offer her a ride on his motorbike because he wanted to impress her?
If so, he was surprised. Jackie and Oxo weren’t suited at all.
They were total opposites. If Oxo had a crush on Jackie then he was afraid that his friend was going to get his heart broken, he wasn’t young or trendy enough for Jackie.