10 Dec 2014

“You missed the distraction Joey. The pointal passed you on the port. Then praps star bored fits better. Let go, let it slip and melt.”

“Quint Guy, the best quint ever. I’ll never find another like her. What’s my move, my shimmy?”

“I knew a cheerful soldier boy who grinned at life with empty joy,
slept soundly through the lonesome dark
and whistled early with the Lark.

In winter trenches cold and glum
with cramps and lice and lack of rum,
he put a bullet through his brain,
we never spoke of him again.”

“What you saying Guy. What’s the message?”

“Nothing’s for eternity Joey, unless you slip over the edge. ‘Fact most stuff of the heart is only months in melting, not years. Well, not unless you’re Miss Havisham.”

“Was she your teacher or summat?”

“No Joey, a literary character.”

“Was she the soldier boys sister then?”

“Er, how’s that dog you got Joey?”

“Gone, gone to the big country. He became a sheep dog.”

“Did he?”

“Yep, sort of, savaged three sheep and was shot by farmer Palmer.”

“What d’you do?”

“Nigel was caught dead to rights and then dead to the world. I was a field away so just walked away. Who wants a dead dog?”

“Bloody hell, you must have been a bit hurt?”

“Not as hurt as the sheep or the farmer, worth a lot of money. I sneaked off and said nowt, his collar didn’t have an address on it.”

“What about Nuria Guy, how do I get her to spin on me again?”

“You don’t Joey, enjoy the memory and move slowly away. She left you. It’s up to her to give you a signal, an encouragement. Without that it’s over, let it go.”

“What sort of signal?”

“I don’t know, like she will message you asking for you to return something you have of hers. A CD or a magazine or whatever.”

“I don’t have anything of hers that I know of.”

“There doesn’t have to be anything, it’s better that way. You can’t say yes or no. You have to talk, to discuss said items disappearance, like Schrodinger’s cat.”

“Oh that, yep, Is it dead, Is it alive, is it even in the bloody box.”

“Exactly.”

“But it’s been over two days and she hasn’t been in contact.”

“Yeah, not exactly pining is she. I think it’s over Joey. Start decontaminating man, wash her out.”

“How do you know when you’re in love?

“I couldn’t really say Joey, I’ve only ever been in lust. I’ve heard that if you need to ask then you aren’t. Then again I was infatuated with the geography teacher when I was fifteen. I would have done anything for her.”

“What happened then Guy?”

“After the two week Easter break it had gone, vanished. She was simply another good looking woman again. Good job I didn’t propose mate.”

Both men laughed long and loud.

“Do yer wanna fag Guy?”

“Yer got some?”

“Yup, course, here you go. I know, supposed to give them up cause of my asthma but got offered some duty frees cheap; well you can’t turn those down can you. Pound a pack if you want some.”

Pwor, shame to say no at that price. I’ll have two packs if you’ve got em.”

Joey’s phone rings.

“Hello hello, message from Nuria Guy. You were right”

“That’s good Joey, What’s she say?”

“Not too sure, Not asking for anything back, a bit garbled, she’s written that last night was the best and she can’t wait to see me again.”

“Really, thought you hadn’t seen her for days?”

“I haven’t, it must be a typo or predictive text buggering it all up again.”

“Let me have a read. bloody hell! You’re Joey not John, it Looks to me like she selected the wrong recipient from her contact list, and all those kisses, and no mention of the split, It’s over Joey, she’s moved on.”

“Whoa, don’t cry mate, don’t do that.”