Every time you make a move

Flashback filler: Leaving home ain't easy

Stafford Terrace, summer 1977

"Paula, I know it's crazy."

"You said that on the phone. Are we going to repeat ourselves?" Monica's friend shuffled slightly in her seat, looking at the Japanese decor around her, then peering at the grand piano.

Monica took a deep breath, desperate not to start an argument with her best friend.

"Because, since I've decided to stay, I wanted to see you once more until... well, until whenever we meet again."

"You've only known him a few days!"

"That's what my mum said when I rang home. As for my dad, if he says I'm still welcome back home then I know things are good."

"Are you completely sure?"

Monica nodded immediately, "What else have I even got going for me?"

"College applications."

She crossed her arms and sighed, "Paula, do you really think I'd stand a chance?"

"Yes, your portfolio is-"

"My portfolio is rubbish! I didn't even have time to make a strong one this year," Monica looked at her lap. "London has more open doors."

"It's A Level, nobody has time for anything," Paula shrugged. "Also, back home you had that stupid cafe job taking up most of your energy-"

"I'm going to put on some music." Monica hauled herself up, changing the subject.

"Does Freddie let you play music?"

"Oh yes, he said I'm welcome to put on whatever he has... but seeing as none of my stuff is here it'll have to be some classical... or the odd psychedelic rock..." she skimmed through his collection below his record player.

"What are you going to do about all your stuff back home?" Paula asked.

"Freddie says he knows some good international delivery services." Monica slipped Goodbye Yellow Brick Road from the shelf.

"What's that you picked?"

Monica held it up, displaying the front cover.

"Wait... Elton actually signed it!" Paula squinted to look more closely at the autograph scribbled across the illustrated front.

"Yep! Turns out they're besties." Monica looked more closely at the track list.

"I don't get how you're not starstruck."

"Oh, I really am! He talks about his encounters like it's no big deal!" She lowered the needle, and the energetic riff to Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting began to play throughout the room.

"Tobacco will calm your nerves." Paula dug out a box of Marlboros that she'd bought with her birthday money and legal ID a few days before.

"Oh I'm good thanks, but there's an ashtray over there if you need it." Monica pointed to crystal tray on the coffee table.

"Thanks," Paula put it between her teeth. "Does Freddie smoke?"

"Oh no, I asked the same thing and he told me he wants to keep his voice." She sat back down on the settee.

"Then why does he have it? It's obviously used." Paula gestured the leftover ash and butts.

Monica was hesitant, knowing the conversation was about to take an awkward turn, "The only person who uses it is his ex girlfriend, or his smoker friends who come round."