Ruby Tuesday

Chapter one

"Alright dad," I nodded as I entered the kitchen where, at the table, dad was slowly plodding through a bowl of cereal. He glanced up, milk dribbling down his stubbly chin, eyelids still heavy from sleep. I pulled a face and wafted a crisp, white envelope at him. "Guess who this's from?" He glimpsed the handwriting on the front, the swooping neat writing that made both of our noses scrunch up.

    "Her."

    "Correct sir," I tore the envelope open and unfolded the letter. Clearing my throat I then read aloud in a high falsetto; "Dear Ruby, I just thought I'd let you know before anyone else that I am getting married to Charlie this June. The wedding will, of course, be here in Kent so I wouldn't suppose you'd want to attend. I've already begun organising everything and you would not believe how much effort goes in to planning a high caliber wedding. I'm thinking of employing the help of a professional to get the job done. At least with Charlie I now have enough money to be able to splurge. It has to be spectacular, darling. After all, this is the man I will be spending the rest of my life with." I stopped there and smirked at dad.

    "Ha," he chortled, "I think I recall her saying something similar to me...And then about that George fella. Then there was-"

    "Michael then John but now it's Charlie," I nodded and we rolled our eyes. I scanned through the rest of the letter disinterestedly, "She just blabbers on about what she's sorted for the wedding and oh! Oh, she has a new dog which she has named Crystal in honour of me! How..."

    "She named a dog in your honour?" 

    "Apparently so. And then she wonders why I refuse to go and see her," I ripped up the letter enjoying the sound of tearing paper then discarded the remains in the hearth. Dad watched wordlessly, his eyebrows pulled down. We returned to our normal morning routine as if my mother's letter hadn't disturbed it.

    "Well," he got to his feet and picked his bowl up. "Looks as if I have work to be getting to. Don't you be late now, Rube."  He patted my shoulder before dumping his bowl on the side by the sink and went upstairs to brush his teeth. 

    I turned the radio on and slumped back in my seat as the disc jokey announced some Rock 'N' Roll band and they began to holler out with a heavy bass, loud guitars and throbbing drums as the intro. To me, no one could even slightly compare to Janis Joplin. She was my hero, my love. Angie loved all music unconditionally. She was inspired to go learn the guitar and became one of those types that went camping and plays guitars with a load of drugged up hippies. She'd tried acid before and her eyes were two big, black pupils. She'd whined and whined for me to take some too but I was too nervous.

    I was the secretary at my village's funeral directories. It wasn't as dark and gloomy as what you're probably imagining. Clarkson and Son Funerals.

    I wore a smart, navy mini dress with a thick white collar. I didn't wear high heels, not to work anyway, just kitten heels and their heel was minuscule anyhow. I lit a cigarette. Seventeen and all I needed was a husband then that would be my life. I know that I sounded bitter but I just wasn't really brave enough to take a wild hold of my life like Angie.

    The bell rang shrilly as I pushed through the door. "Morning Mr Clarkson," I called politely and from another room he chorused "morning."

    I sat behind my desk and neatly stacked the paperwork before opening my diary checking if there were any meetings scheduled for the morning. The first was at eleven forty five so I had at least two hours to get everything else sorted. Mr Clarkson came out, a cracked smile playing across his thin lips. "What's happening today then?"