by James Eddy
frustration as usual with a polite smile and thanks for their irritating kindness.
He soon gave up on that particular plan. He realised he’d probably been hoping for too much, too soon. Walking along the aisle between two prominent banks of chilled food he saw his mother’s friends, Elsie Andrews and Betty Drinkwater. He went towards them reluctantly. Both glanced at him briefly and let him pass. Their conversation continued and Colin silently wondered if they hadn't recognised him. It made sense to him. He'd always assumed they only saw him as 'Nancy's Son'; as a man who only existed two steps behind her.
Betty looked at him again and said, “Hello Colin! It's nice to see you out and about... Are you well?”
“Yes thank you Mrs Drinkwater,” he answered.
He felt strangely relieved.
He didn't stay to chat. He needed to eat. He picked up a bread roll and went to the deli.
“Hello, how can I help?” the boy behind the counter asked with a grin.
The boy’s clothes were clean but rather scruffy. His navy blue hat had seen better days and his dark hair jutted out underneath at wrong-headed right angles. Colin recognised his face but couldn't work out where from. The thought left his mind and he answered the boy’s question:
“Yes, thanks... I would like a slice of your breaded ham please.”
“Certainly.”
The boy turned away from Colin, revealing a great delicacy in his movements. He followed this with steps that looked like they were being made to music. Colin assumed the lad was moving to the music playing in the shop, but, since he could barely hear it over the chattering and robotic beeps, he wasn't sure how that could be.
“There you are.”
The boy's words cut through his haze of thinking, and he handed Colin his ham.
“Thank you very much...I hope you have a good day,” Colin told him and turned away to walk along the next aisle.
He went to the tills, passing an overweight woman with grey mottled skin and a hideous smell of stale sweat. He took a deep breath and joined a queue. By the time he dared to breathe again the air was clean. Two women and three men stood in front of him and since it was a Saturday afternoon they were all buying lager, alcopops and scratchcards.
Colin stared towards the floor, keeping his thoughts from other people's business. It wasn't much of a view. Luckily, the next thing he heard was the opening guitar riff of 'Whole Lotta Love’, drifting over his head from unseen speakers.
As someone who was too old to be a punk and too young to be a hippy, Led Zeppelin were his band. No sound made him feel more alive than drums like cannons, throbbing bass, and guitars and vocals that were like the cries of broken angels.
He would've preferred 'Night Flight,' but he couldn't really complain. He could always listen to that one at home. That’s exactly what he'd done for years anyway. Every night, after putting his mother to bed he'd sat in the living room. And once he was sure he wouldn't be disturbed, he'd put on his oversized headphones and let 'Night Flight' take him away for a little while.
Colin raised his eyes from the ground, briefly looking to his right to glimpse the long falling waves of an orange sunset; the tendrils of hair glinting gold in the light. He had absolutely no idea who the woman was, but she still filled his eyes until nothing remained but the red of her hair, the white of her skin and the black of her dress. And then she was gone; out of the door. All Colin could do was follow. Fumbling for change, he paid the polite silver-haired shop assistant as quickly as he could.
In the doorway, he glanced in all directions until he saw her hair in the distance. The vibrancy of its colour was deadened a little by natural light just as the heat of the day had been cooled by the clouds shrouding the sun. A distinct chill was in the air as Colin followed her over the unseductive shine of the streets and into a park.
From a bench, he watched her sit beneath an ancient oak tree and read her book. For the first time, he saw her face in full and she was glorious; a real grown up beauty. That was obvious to him in spite of the vagueness that came from the darkening sky.
It was an ideal opportunity, but Colin couldn't bring himself to go over and talk to her. His mind kept going back to his reflection in the shop window. He saw himself only as a man carrying too much weight on his belly and too many years on his shoulders. A man that lacked anything that made him worthy of a woman like her.
Instead, he watched her in silence. Taking in the movements of her hands, the shifting of her weight to make herself more comfortable and even the look of concentration on her face as she read. Without looking away from the page, she reached up and felt for the raindrops that were starting to fall. Closing the book, she was immediately on her feet holding her umbrella. Colin watched her run back out of the park. He didn't follow her. There didn't seem to be much point.
The rain didn't fall for long but was hard enough to flatten his dark hair onto his head. When it was over, Colin finally gave in to hunger and ate his ham roll. There was something else he needed to do though. From out of the inside pocket of his blazer, he pulled the tatty, dog-eared final letter that Rachel had sent him. The letter was his only secret. No-one had ever known that he carried it with him wherever he went.
Colin stared at the letter for over a minute. Then he stood up and, with a sigh, he dropped it into the bin beside the bench. The darkness of evening had blackened the city like shadows from lonely tenements and, as he trudged away, he had little idea how he really felt.
It was only that night when he pulled the headphone cord out of the stereo and let 'Night Flight' hit the air that he understood. The mutual beat of the drums and his heart told him there was still life to be lived. For the first time in many years he knew it might even be worthwhile.
Learn About The Author
A writer of multiple genres, James Eddy began writing film and television scripts before moving into Short Stories, Novels and Novellas. ‘The Graveyard’ is the seventh part of his short story collection, ‘Diamonds’. For more information, please visit www.jameseddy.co.uk or feel free to contact him via Twitter or Facebook
ABOUT YOUNGBLOOD BOOKS
Founded in 2012, Youngblood Books is owned and operated by James Eddy. We publish a diverse range of genres, including Comedy, Drama, Children's Stories, Romance, Fantasy, Literary Fiction and Comics. Visit us at www.youngbloodbooks.co.uk to keep up to date with all our new releases.
Please feel free to leave a review wherever you may have purchased this book from. Many thanks.
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The Ghosts Are Out Tonight
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