The old man’s hands began to shake, uncontrollably, and as Meryl reached his table she gently leaned over and placed her hand over his in an attempt to steady him.
In the background the singer’s voice carried over the bar and throughout the pub.
The rest of the band played softly, as if to ensure that they did not interfere with the singer’s melody.
Meryl placed the fresh pint down in front of the old man.
When he looked up to meet her gaze Meryl could see tears brimming over his eyes, leaving twin trails down his cheeks.
Meryl suddenly felt an overwhelming compulsion to put her arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be alright. In truth, she had no idea what had caused the old man to become so upset in the first place.
Instead she decided that hugging him might draw too much attention, and the last thing Meryl wanted was to cause the old man further embarrassment, so she grabbed a couple of paper napkins from a pocket in her overall and handed them to him so that he could wipe his eyes.
Choking back his tears, the old man thanked her for her kindness.
Meryl felt compelled to stay and find out what was wrong. Mike was forever having a go at her for taking on the troubles of the world, but she could not help herself.
For the sake of a few kind words and a little comfort, she was more than happy to see if she could do anything to ease the old man’s grief.
Meryl sat down beside him and angled his pint so that the handle was towards him.
“There’s another one on the house,” she whispered, so as not to disturb those around them listening to the singer.
The old man turned to her once more and thanked her through his tears.
Meryl held his gaze for a moment.
There was something in his eyes which conveyed a sadness that was almost palpable.
As the girl finished her song the audience began to applaud, loudly.
The rest of her band joined her once more in thanking everyone in attendance for their appreciation, and promised that they would return there the next time they were in the vicinity.
This announcement received an even greater cheer of delight.
As the band began to clear away their instruments, Mike carried over the tray of drinks Meryl had just prepared for them. She caught Mike’s eye on his way back to the bar and signalled that she was staying put for the time being.
Mike immediately put two-and-two together and realised that his wife was once again attempting to share the burdens of the world, and playfully shot a glance up to heaven.
Meryl stuck her tongue out at him in response, which caused him to start chuckling as he reached the bar.
Meryl turned her attention back to the old man beside her.
He had managed to wipe away the last remnants of his tears, but the effort had left his eyes puffy and red-rimmed.
He put his hand over his mouth as he cleared his throat.
“Take a swig of that,” Meryl encouraged him, nodding towards the pint she had just brought him.
The old man thanked her again and lifted the glass to his mouth, taking several gulps.
When he replaced it on the table, he continued to dab his eyes with the napkin.
Watching him, it appeared to Meryl as if he were about to burst into tears again at any moment.
“Is it something you want to tell me about?” she asked, softly, “a problem shared, as they say.”
The old man stared straight ahead for a moment, looking in the direction of the band who were now seated at a table in front of the stage, enjoying their drinks.
After a moment’s silence, the old man replied. “It’s that song!” he announced.
Meryl looked towards the band, and then quickly back to her guest.
It took a moment for his words to sink in.
Finally, Meryl thought that she understood. “Oh, I see, does that song hold some treasured memories for you, something from your childhood perhaps?” she enquired, pleased with herself for managing to engage the old man in an actual conversation.
To her amazement the old man jumped up from his seat, this time almost knocking his full drink flying.
“I have to go!” he stated, his voice starting to crack as if the effort were too great for him.
Meryl rose next to him.
She could see from the state he was in that he was in some distress, and she could not help but feel as if it was somehow her fault although she could not put her finger on the cause.
Meryl watched as the old man shuffled around checking his pockets to ensure that he had all his belongings before he left.
Although he was turned away from her, Meryl could see that he was still having to wipe his eyes so she suspected that fresh tears were brewing.
As Meryl was blocking his exit from one side the old man attempted to walk around between the table and the wall, but the gap was too small and he only succeeded in banging his leg on the edge of the table.
His failed attempt at escape only succeeded in making the old man more agitated, and when he turned to leave and found Meryl still blocking his path his frustration caused yet more tears to trickle down his face.
Even though Meryl could hear Mike’s voice in her head telling her not to interfere, she decided that she could not allow the old man to leave in such a state. Above all, she did not want to feel responsible for him leaving the pub in haste and slipping on the ice on the way home and having an accident.
Steeling herself, Meryl placed a comforting hand on the old man’s shoulder and offered him a reassuring smile. “Do you mind me asking you your name?”
The question obviously took the old man by surprise, and for a moment he appeared to visibly calm down.
“It’s Jonathan,” he replied, stammering slightly as if he were trying to force the words out. “Jonathan Ward.”
“Well, I am Meryl Watkins, and that man behind the bar is my husband Mike,” she held out her hand towards the old man, “and I would like to formally welcome you to our pub, with apologies for not introducing ourselves to you at an earlier opportunity.”
Jonathan Ward clasped Meryl’s hand, almost as if on instinct, and squeezed, gently.
Regardless of the fact that mere seconds before he had been intent on leaving the bar as quickly as possible, he could not be so rude as to refuse a handshake from his host.
The pair of them shook hands, and the old man seemed to relax visibly during the process.
Convinced that the exercise had accomplished the required effect, Meryl indicated for Jonathan to re-take his seat.
The bar was starting to empty, and most of the patrons finished their drinks and made their way out into the cold night air.
Still with some hesitation, Jonathan acquiesced to Meryl’s suggestion.
Once they were both seated, Meryl spoke. “I am very sorry if I upset you Jonathan, I assure you that was never my intention.”
The old man shook his head. “Please do not reproach yourself,” he assured her, “you weren’t to know.”
Looking past her, Jonathan glanced over to where the Romany band were still enjoying their well-deserved drinks.
He turned his attention back to Meryl. “It’s just that song you see, I haven’t heard it in nearly fifty years, and I hoped that I would never hear it again for as long as I lived!”
Meryl was confused by the old man’s words, and her expression illustrated the fact.
She desperately wanted to ask the old man to explain but she bit her tongue, conscious of the fact that she had already managed to upset him once this evening and she did not relish repeating the experience.
In the end, she did not have to.
The old man could see the bemusement etched into Meryl’s face, and that, combined with the kindness she had shown him, gave him the courage to face up to something which had haunted him for most of his adult life.
In that moment, he decided it was time to lay his own personal demon to rest!
O
nce and for all!
Two
Once Jonathan informed Meryl that he had decided to confide in her, she excused herself for a moment so that she could pour herself a drink, say goodnight to her staff, and thank the musicians for playing such a marvellous set.
Jonathan sipped his drink, nervously, and watched while Mike showed the bar staff out and locked the main door behind them.
The band finished their drinks and walked over to the bar to leave their empty glasses.
As Meryl showed them to the door, Jonathan called out to the lead singer.
“Young lady,” he stood up to catch her attention. “I was wondering if I might have a quick word with you before you leave?”
The girl smiled and walked over to the old man’s table, closely followed by the rest of the band. “Yes,” she said, cheerfully, “what can I do for you?”
Meryl suspected that Jonathan was about to ask the young singer about her encore, so she came back over and stood next to the old man.
Jonathan was visibly shaking so he tried to steady himself by holding onto the back of his chair, but Meryl grabbed his arm and insisted that he sit back down before he started to speak, so the old man complied with her wishes and re-took his seat.
“I was just wondering…about that song you sang at the end of your concert…you mentioned that your mother taught it to you when you were a baby.”
The girl smiled. “That’s right, it’s a bit of a staple amongst the Romany clan as it’s usually the first song we’re ever taught. Why do you ask, have you heard it somewhere before?”
Jonathan rubbed his hands together as if to ward off the night cold when in truth it was still quite warm in the bar, and the log fire which Mike had been replenishing throughout the evening was still blazing away across the room.
As he opened his mouth to answer, the words caught in his throat. Jonathan turned his face away and held his hand to his mouth to clear his throat, once more.
When he turned back, Meryl was holding up his glass as if to encourage him to take a sip before he continued. Jonathan thanked her and took a long swallow before replacing the glass on the table.
The young female singer leaned over the table and rested her hand on Jonathan’s sleeve. “I’m so sorry,” she said, softly, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Jonathan waved his hand as if to dismiss her concern. “Not at all, young lady,” he replied, “you didn’t upset me, it’s just…” He paused, as if unable to find the words he was looking for.
He turned to Meryl, as if for inspiration.
Meryl, sensing the old man’s discomfort, decided to intervene.
She called over to her husband to fetch everyone a drink, and invited the artists to take a seat. “Let’s all get comfortable,” she suggested, cheerfully. “We’ll have ourselves a little lock-in, just an informal gathering between new friends. Something to keep the cold at bay for a little longer.”
While Mike fetched the drinks and the band made themselves comfortable, Meryl took the opportunity to discreetly whisper into Jonathan’s ear- just to make sure that he was comfortable relaying his tale in front of everyone.
She was starting to feel a little guilty that she had put him on the spot, even though he was the one who had called the band members over to join them.
Regardless of how much her husband teased her, Meryl was not one to pry into someone else’s business. However, she had the distinct impression that the old man was carrying a burden which he desperately needed to share.
Once Mike had brought over the drinks and everyone had taken their seats, Meryl raised her glass. “Cheers everyone,” she offered her glass up for the others to clink, and once the wishes had been passed, they all took a drink.
Jonathan knew that everyone was waiting for him to answer the young singer’s earlier question, so he decided it was best just to pitch in without over-thinking it. Otherwise he was afraid that he might back out, and part of him was determined that the time had finally arrived to tell his story.
Taking a deep breath, he began. “Now then young lady, you asked me if I had ever heard your song before…”
“It’s Melissa,” the singer informed him. She turned to the rest of the band. “This is Julie, Fred and Barry.”
They all waved and nodded their acknowledgement, and Jonathan reciprocated.
“Well, the truth of the matter is,” he continued, keeping his voice low as if he were afraid that someone outside might overhear him, “many years ago, long before any of you were even born, I went through a terrifying experience which will haunt me for the rest of my life.”
The gathering all exchanged glances at the old man’s revelation.
Their expressions showed a combination of shock and anticipation.
Finally, Melissa spoke up. “And what you went through, it had something to do with the song we finished our set with?” she asked, curiously.
Jonathan nodded. “I realise it must sound ridiculous that such a beautiful song should cause me so much distress, but if you’ll allow me to explain the circumstances to you then perhaps you will understand why my memory of it is so disturbing.”
“Of course,” Melissa responded, soothingly. “I think you’ve got us all intrigued now.”
There were several nods from around the table.
The old man knew that he had passed the point of no return, and now - even though the mere thought of it sent an ice-cold shiver down his spine - he felt compelled to tell his story.
He considered for a moment what might be the worst-case scenario under the circumstances if he told those gathered his account of what had happened to him all those years ago.
As far as he was concerned, his life was all but over anyway.
Death was just a waiting game for him, and so it had been for more years than he could remember.
The old man rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, as if to symbolically clear away any doubts which lingered to prevent him from speaking.
He was ready!
“It’s hard to know where to start,” he said, almost in a rhetorical fashion, not looking at anyone in particular. “I don’t want to bore you with my life story - you know how some old people love to ramble on about the good old days, and what they did and did not do.”
He looked up, and was encouraged by the fact that everyone seemed to find his last statement amusing.
“I met my wife Jenifer in the late sixties at a pop festival, if you can believe it. It was during the summer in a large field where everyone had to bring their own tents and sleeping bags, unless they were happy just sleeping on the ground under the stars.
“The air was charged with flower-power and free love, and there were several people experimenting with pot and various other forms of recreational drugs.”
He looked up. “Not me, you understand, I was way too boring and straight-laced for all that.”
There was a smattering of laughter in response.
“At the time,” he continued, “I was working in a bank in our local high street, so I had to ensure that I did not let myself go too much. In those days you could find yourself being handed your cards for the slightest thing, if it was considered unbecoming behaviour by your employers. Especially when you worked for such a conservative organisation as I did.
“I remember that it was the second day I was there. The weather had been gorgeously hot, and like many in attendance I was completely caught up in the romance of the spectacle.
“Some of the bands seemed to play throughout the night, so that whenever you dropped off there was still music when you woke up.
“There were caravans and stalls selling fish and chips, hotdogs, doughnuts, candyfloss and all manner of treats, so the air was permanently infused with the smell of tempting food wafting across the field, which in turn made you feel hungry even when you weren’t.
“I’ll never forget the first time I laid eyes on my wife. It was late afternoon on the second day, and suddenly the whole world se
emed to stop as this vision of loveliness walked by, right in front of me. Her beauty was captivating. She had the face of an angel and skin the texture of porcelain, with lustrous flowing blond locks cascading down around her shoulders. For a moment I could no longer hear the music or the shouts and chants of all those around me, and it literally felt as if the breath had been sucked out of my body.
“I turned to watch her walk away, and in that instant I felt compelled to follow her wherever she was going. Bear in mind I had no idea what I was going to do when she reached her destination; I wasn’t the type of bloke who felt comfortable just walking up to a girl and starting a conversation, especially not with one who was as pretty as her. But something spurred me on. Something told me to persevere and let fate take its course, so on I went.
“The way she managed to weave through the huge crowd with such grace and elegance was in complete contrast to my clumsy attempt at following her without making it appear too obvious. I lost track of how many times I tripped and stumbled over bodies writhing on the floor. Fortunately for me, most of them seemed so lost in the spirit of the moment that they didn’t appear to notice my clod-hoping attempt at dancing around - rather than on top - of them.
“Eventually, I caught up with her standing in a queue to buy candy floss. I waited a few feet behind her feeling completely inadequate and disappointed with myself for not being able to approach her. Furthermore, being this close to her, I knew that if she saw me when she turned around there was no way that I could continue to follow her without causing her alarm, and that was the last thing I wanted.
“As luck would have it, fate stepped in for me. As she turned around having just purchased her treat, a young couple, both clearly high on something, careered into her and sent her flying off her feet straight towards me. The whole scene could have ended very messily, but as it was I managed to catch her and stop her from falling; although her candyfloss ended up on the grass.
“The couple who had caused the accident were totally oblivious to what they had done, and continued to veer across the field bumping into everyone in their path.
“Jenifer was clearly miffed at the fate of her candy, but once I let go of her she turned around to thank me for saving her from falling. I made some joke about not being fast enough to save her candy as well, and she laughed. There was obviously no point in going after the couple as they were now lost somewhere in the melee, so instead I offered to buy another candyfloss.
Ghost Song Page 2
