Wait at the Gates of Heaven for me – Terry!

98387720_-band-transistor-radio-fm-am-marine-sw-shortwave-batteryPete went to turn the radio off, but it wasn’t switched on. He removed the batteries. It still played.

“Take it outside, put it in the dustbin, I don’t want it in my flat anymore.”

He was hesitant to touch it, and I didn’t blame him, it had to go. With the radio under his arm, he ran downstairs, I watched for him through the window, but he didn’t appear in the back yard where the bins were located. Where was he? I stood at the top of the stairs in silence. No sign of him. Five agonizing minutes passed, during which I chewed on my nails, and willed him to come back.

The door at the bottom of the stairs opened and he appeared.

“Are you alright?” I asked him.

“Yea, I’ll be fine.”

“What happened? Where did you go?”

“I ran down to the building site, you know the one, just off Frenchgate.”

“Yes, they’re renovating some old homes, close to where I work. Why’d you go there? I was worried.”

“If I’d put the radio in the dust bin in the back yard we’d still be hearing it now. So would the people in the rest of the building. They’d wonder what was going on, plus it would freak you out!”
“Was it still playing when you dropped tossed it in the skip?”

“Yes, it was playing a different tune? It switched to that old song by Twinkle.”

“I only know one song by Twinkle.” I said. My heart was beating faster now, “it’s the one called “Terry”, about a boy who dies in a motorcycle accident.”

Pete looked at me, “It’s playing over and over again.”

I thought about the guy in the leather jacket as the song played out in my brain. Please wait at the Gate of Heaven for me, Terry!

“I don’t know what to do, or how to help you. Why aren’t you freaking out more?”

“Stuff like this happens to me, I’m used to it. I told you about it before. My gran sees things too, I guess it skipped my mam’s generation and I’m stuck with the gift. This is a bit different though. Usually its family I see. Who ever is haunting me now sought me out.”

“The guy on the motorbike, is he real?”

I thought about it, “I’m not sure yet. I thought he was, but now I’m beginning to wonder. Shame because I fancied him like crazy.”

Pete laughed. It broke the tension. “What about the gypsy?”

“She’s not real. Sometimes I see her as an old woman, and sometimes a beautiful young girl. The two are definitely connected.”

“Who’d you see first?”

“The guy, in fact I feel like he’s in my head the whole time now.”

We were both silent for a while.

“You’d better get ready for work, I’ll walk you there. What time do you finish?”

“Five o clock”

“I’ll meet you outside too. I’m going to stay until this is over. It may move on with Fairground people. Seems to be tied to them. I still have a key so I’ll bring some of my stuff over.”

“Thank Pete, I’d like you to stay. I don’t think I’m in danger or anything, but it would be nice to have some living breathing company.”

I got washed and dressed and we walked to my office in silence. I arrived a little late, but that was OK, I was still first in. Cindy had a doctor’s appointment and Jan was still sick, it turned out to be Bronchitis. I powered up the computer and then grabbed a cup of coffee. Before sitting down at my desk I wandered over to the window and looked out to the car park, where I’d first seen the irresistible leather clad biker. Only the familiar cars were parked there, no bikes, no smoke rings no…

He said to me he wanted to be near to me
He said he never wanted to be out of my sight
But it’s too late to give this boy my love tonight
Please wait at the gate of heaven for me, Terry.

He said to me he wanted to be close by my side
We had a quarrel, I was untrue on the night he died
And it’s too late to tell this boy how great he was
Please wait at the gate of heaven for me, Terry.

He rode into the night, accelerated his motorbike
I cried to him in fright, don’t do it, don’t do it, don.t do it.

He said to me you are the one I want to be with
He said to me you are the one who my love I shall give
One day he’ll know how hard I prayed for him to live
Please wait at the gate of heaven for me, Terry.

He rode into the night, accelerated his motorbike
I cried to him in fright, don’t do it, don’t do it, don.t do it.

He said to me you are the one I want to be with
He said to me you are the one who my love I shall give
One day he’ll know how hard I prayed for him to live
Please wait at the gate of heaven for me, Terry.

Terry, Terry, Terry.

I dropped my cup!

Dead of July, my first novel, is available on Amazon for $0.99. If you like my blog, give my book a try. Thanks for stopping by.

Lucky Heather? Or NOT!

Lucky heatherPete listened intently without interrupting. He was very interested in the beautiful gypsy girl I’d seen just before he showed up.

“How come I didn’t see her?” he asked.

“I told you she vanished.”

“Its going to take another drink or two for me to get my head around this,” he said, “I’ll buy this time, another Brandy and Coke?”

I nodded, telling my story had taken some effort, but Pete hadn’t laughed, not yet anyway.

I rested back in my chair and shut my eyes, wanting to block the world out for a while. Was there really a  handsome, intoxicating, stranger in a shabby black leather jacket, or was I imagining him? Maybe I’d been working too hard, or drinking too much, or both. Oh let him be real, he’s exciting. I want him to be real. 

Something landed on my lap, jerking me back to reality. I stifled a scream when I saw a tiny bunch of purple heather lying there.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell?” I said a little too loudly.

“Hey calm down, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just brought you some lucky heather, thought it might make you feel better.”

“You bloody moron, where did you get this?” I stood up so quickly I knocked over the chair I’d been sitting on. “Where is she?”

“Where’s who?”

“The goddamn gypsy, the one who sold you this, the one who turned into a beautiful young woman before disappearing. Is she here?”

Everyone looked at us to see what all the fuss was about.

“Calm down,” Pete said as he set the chair back up on all four legs, “I didn’t buy the heather off anyone, it was lying on the bar. I thought you’d like it.”

I almost fell back down onto my chair and took a big gulp of my drink.

“You really are a bag of nerves. Why don’t I stay at your place tonight, I think you need the company.”

I emptied my glass without even tasting its contents. Pete pushed his drink across the table in my direction. “Here, drink this, I’ll get two more.” He said and went back to the bar.

I looked at the heather which now lay on the table. This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone was sending me a message. What the hell was going on? Not wanting to touch it, I bent down and sniffed at it, no idea why. It was fragrant, almost overpowering, making me feel weak and dizzy. Or was that the Brandy?

“Here, I think this should be your last drink, you’re at work tomorrow aren’t you?”

I looked up at my ex boyfriend. “I’d like it if you stayed at my place tonight. Would you mind?”

Pete smiled in a way that made him irresistible. It was the smile that got him, and whoever he was with, into trouble. I laughed out loud. “Don’t get any ideas, you’re sleeping on the sofa. Don’t even thing of trying anything, I need protecting, not molesting.”

“I’ll be your knight in shining armor, no ghost will seduce you tonight. “Drink up, let’s get you to bed,” he said hopefully.

I can’t lie, I’m enjoying this story. it reminds me of a young girl that used to live in North Yorkshire a long time ago. All of the characters I use in my blogs, and in my novel, are based on memories and people I knew. Bringing them to life again (yes some of them are no longer with us), makes me smile. Life passes too quickly. I want to remember my past, enjoy the present, and look forward to the future. We’re all dead a long time.

If you’d like to try my novel ‘Dead of July’, its available on Amazon for $0.99. Yes it’s cheap, but when you write your first novel, no one knows you. Cheap is good!

Dead of July