Every time you make a move

Son & Daughter

Midland Hotel, Birmingham, 3rd September 1984

"I do not see why Theo would need you in Bristol for two nights?! ...Well, did you tell him that they have school on Monday?!"

Freddie Mercury fidgeted with the box of cigarettes in his hand, tapping them against the mahogany coffee table as he sat slouched in a fluffy white hotel bathrobe in the burgundy velvet chair by the terrace of his berry-themed hotel suite whilst his personal assistant Peter "Phoebe" Freestone paced back and forth across the cream carpet as he helped pack his boss's luggage, listening in on Freddie's phone conversation to his fiancé Monica with growing curiosity.

"Well, Monica, you know that I can't mind them!" he griped, his voice still hoarse from the night before, "...Not when I'm performing at Wembley four nights in a row starting tomorrow!"

Once Johnny and Roshni were seemingly brought in on the conversation, Phoebe set the folded polo shirt down on the bed and saw it fit to awkwardly intervene, "Uhh, Freddie?"

"One moment, darling. Phoebe's asking me something," he muttered into the reciever with a huff, then lifted his head, "What?!"

"I can look after them backstage if it's no trouble" he timidly suggested.

"They've got school, Phoebe! I need you with me at all times anyway" the agitation in his narrowed eyes and the stress in his greasy black hair was enough to shut him up.

"Right, just an idea..." he turned away, but Freddie ignored it and went back to his telephone conversation;

"Really? ...Well, there you go. That's my birthday bollocked now! That's another thing on Monday as well" he shook a cigarette out and hastily tapped the rest back into the box.

"Oh god, don't mention ruining birthdays... not after you ruined Monica's the year before last" Phoebe held his tongue back as he packed his polo shirt into another layer of clothes in his suitcase, remembering the Lenny incident only eleven months before.

"Darling, I don't doubt that you took that into consideration as well," he heard Freddie's voice was less agitated and more attentive, "...yes, that was insensitive of me and I'm sorry I made you feel bad..."

"What is she saying now?" Phoebe asked, but again he received no answer, just a dismissive wave of the hand.

"Well, you can try calling mum and dad..." he heard him pause as he waited for Monica to answer, "I don't see why not. If my geography is correct, Feltham is on transit to Bristol"

Phoebe instinctively paused again as he listened to what sounded like the formulation of a plan as he quickly ducked into the en suite bathroom to collect Freddie's toiletries;

"Just call Mary afterwards and ask her to feed the cats... well, in that case just put them in a bloody cattery, go on..." then he heard his voice grow quieter and more tender, "Yes, alright, talk later... yes, I will call them before dinner... I love you too, bye my love... yes, send them hugs and kisses from daddy"

Phoebe heard the phone go click, and turned to see his boss pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a groan.

"Dare I ask what's wrong?" he approached cautiously after putting his wash back in the suitcase.

"It's that fucking boss of hers again. He wants her for a short film until monday night and she doesn't know anybody to dump the little tykes on... so I told her to call my parents" he put the cigarette in between his lips and lit it.

"A short film? Whose?" Phoebe asked, pulling the velvet chair opposite him and sitting down.

"His! Says that Monica has a good eye for detail and he wants her to be his assistant director!" Freddie took a long drag, and released before speaking again, "It's his first one as well apparently"