Rain Must Fall

Finding Her

"A man on a mission would bring his heaviest artillery, and it looked like this guy hadn't even packed a pocket knife." ― Angela Richardson, Pieces of Truth

In the car again, I was trying to encourage my son to think about anything but his father. The morning light was flashing over my skin, keeping me awake. So far it was 13 hours in the car in less than 3 days and my son was having none of it.

"Dada!" He cried, snuggling onto his stuffed bunny.

"No, Henry. Cuddle Bun Bun and go to sleep, okay? We can both have a sleep when we get to the hotel, okay?"

This only made him worse, his cries turning to wails. I opened the glove box and grabbed Roger's album. Fun In Space was slammed into the tape player in my car in a desperate attempt to find peace for my crying son.

"Listen, Henry. It's daddy." I called, looking at him stop crying at Roger's voice, only have the tears flow on my face instead. We left Belfast behind us in a cloud of fog, driving to our new destination.

Sleep was all Roger knew how to do without his wife, something that had never occurred to him. When he found himself staring at the ceiling late in the morning, when the world outside was spinning, he would hear my voice in his head. Three days after, he still couldn't find that voice. Vivienne distracted herself with household chores that Roger couldn't do. First dishes, then cleaning the fridge, tour laundry, making the place living.

"She's in Ireland. Why the fuck would she chose Ireland? If anything, she would have went home to Scotland. Who did she have in Ireland- ROGER!" Vivienne yelled with sudden realisation. She dropped the vacuum handle onto the ground and sprinted to the dead bedroom.

"Roger! Wake up!" She demanded, nudging him on the shoulder to get him to come back to life.

"What?" Roger Taylor moaned quietly.

"You met her in Ireland, right?"

"In Ireland? Dublin! Vivienne, she's going back to Dublin!" He yelled, opening his eyes.

Brian May stepped into the house to hear Roger bellowing.

"I met her in Dublin! She's in Dublin!" His words echoed through the house and Brian laughed for a moment at his best friend's mental absence. Brian realised almost as soon as Chrissie had gotten off the phone with Lucy the night before. He was just waiting for Roger to cotton on. Roger felt tonnes lighter. He knew where his wife was.

"I need to go see her. It's only an hour or so flight, yeah?" He asked, standing up on the bed. He still wore his clothes from yesterday and was in dire need of a shower.

"Shouldn't you clean up first? At least look decent for it." Vivienne suggested with hesitation, thinking that Roger rushing headlong into the chase may not have been healthy for anyone.

"Vivienne. My wife and baby are alone in another country. The least I can do is show her I still care."

With a little persuasion and the offer of free time with the baby, Roger convinced Freddie to accompany him on a flight to Ireland. They sat next to each other, drinking matching scotches. Roger, for nerves; Freddie, for no other reason that it was alcohol. He hadn't seen me in 3 days now, which was nothing for us when he was tour. However, when the band were home, an hour could seem like a century. Roger started thinking about what he would say to me when he got to the place he thought I would be, if I was even there. The only words coming to his head was my name, and then an ache. He had nothing to say to me. I already heard enough at the house.