*
It's a pretty hard thing
It's not easy living on your own
All of the things that you used to do
If they're done now, well they're done by you
*
The last thing I remembered was Keith helping me into a cab, telling the driver my address and then just darkness. So imagine my surprise when I woke up in my bed dressed in a t-shirt, perfectly well, besides my headache, a disgusting taste in my mouth and some sickening feeling in my stomach. I looked like hell, but with a shower, a bit of makeup and some teeth brushing, I nearly looked human again and was still good in time to go to work.
I went to the kitchen and tried calling Mary, but didn't really expect her to pick up and she didn't. I brewed some tea and enjoyed some toast. I didn't want to strain my stomach too much, so I just ate a tad and still I felt pretty low. I purred me a glass of whiskey and hoped that this would at least get me going. At any rate it wouldn't worsen my hangover. I drowned it in one go and shuddered. I didn't usually drink in the morning, but sometimes it wasn't so bad to get you through the day.
I was just about to clean the kitchen when I heard a noise from the living room. I was a bit surprised. I lived on my own and didn't even own a pet, due to my wonderful gift working on animals as well. So what could have made the noise? Carefully I walked into the living room, where I saw the back of a man and I nearly screamed. He wasn't wearing much besides his underwear. He stretched like he had just gotten up and I just stood there dumbly observing him until I realised who he was and I started laughing. He turned around and looked questioning at me.
"Sorry I thought you were a burglar or something and then seeing you in your underpants just I don't know. I think I'm still somewhat drunk."
He laughed. "What so wrong with a burglar who breaks in in just his underpants? If he likes it, so why not?"
I laughed. "Maybe. Anyway you didn't have to stay here for the night or you could have taken the bed. I believe I was so out I wouldn't have minded sleeping on the floor."
"Especially because you were so out, I thought it would be nicer to wake up in the bed, at least if I'm drunk I prefer waking up in my bed than some random place I don't even know how I ended up there in the first place." I smiled. "And I couldn't just leave you on your own... That would have been really low."
"Thanks that was really nice of you."
He laughed. "You're welcome. We're not as bad as the tabloids make us look and in all honestly believe me when I say that I wished someone would put me to bed if I was out of it instead of drawing on my face or something..."
I laughed. "I would really like to thank you in some way, but I've got to go to work now. There's tea and some toast in the kitchen if you want something."
"We've got a show this weekend, you could come around with your friend, maybe?"
"You want me to go to your concert as a thank you gift?" I raised an eyebrow.
"I know we are not the Beatles, but if I may say so, we are pretty good."
"I didn't mean it like that, it just doesn't feel much as a thanks if you offer me free concerts cards."
He shrugged. "Well you can always invite me out for something to eat or to drink, if that's better."
I nodded. "But not now. I really have to go. See you."
I took my purse, my coat, put my shoes on and practically run to work. My small talk with Keith had taken more time up than I presumed and I was running late. My boss was pretty laid back, but he had an unhealthy punctuality fascination and with that I mean he rather had someone feeling up a corpse than being 5 minutes late. In other words whatever you did, don't be late.
I was panting when I finally reached the funeral parlour, but I made it. Even if I felt now like coughing my lungs out and puking all over the rug.
"You shouldn't smoke so much, Charlie." Mr. Evan chuckled. He was a very nice man in his late forties who was in charge of the funeral parlour. Besides his hyper punctuality and his constant health advises, he was pretty nice to have around. The irony was that he always cared so much for staying healthy when in the end it didn't really made any difference for his death.
"I know, Mr. Evan You tell me it at least twice a day."
"And still you go around smoking. I never understand the youths nowadays. I guess I'm getting old."
"You're not that old."
He sighed. "I suppose I'd rather have you smoking than doing other things. Well let's get working then."
The work was pretty peaceful today, not that it often wasn't, but some days were more stressful than others. It was a sad business and people often blamed the wrong ones for their pain and called us money sucking vultures and other things. Yes, Mr. Evan made some money and coffins were not that cheap, but the fabrication wasn't that cheap either. Depending on the wood and etc. It could get rather expensive, but it wasn't like Mr. Evan got all the money. He needed to pay his workers, his rent, and the goods and so on. People often forgot that and they only saw a price tag. At least today there were no living people around, besides Mr. Evan and Ben, who worked here too. Somehow it was much nicer dealing with the dead than the living, even not considering my visions. They didn't complain, didn't argue with you and didn't judge you or anything. I guess I saw in the death what most people saw in animals. Animals like people gave me visions and keeping a cat and knowing when it would die, was again some unneeded depression in my life and therefore I avoided it. It was a rather lonely philosophy, but seeing everything dying around you seemed even harder, especially on some days. My life was depressing enough, even when I tried looking on the bright side of things, but when I had a bad day it was just hell.
Furthermore, the peace and not having people around was a gift for my headache. It wasn't the worst hungover I've ever had, actually it was quite far from it. Still I felt pretty bad and I was more than happy to call it a day at five o'clock. Tonight I decided to stay at home and maybe get some sleep and just relax, because I was pretty sure Mary would soon call me up again to go out.
She didn't work, still lived at home and never worried about money in her life. All that seemed to matter to her was enjoying her time, I couldn't blame her, I would too if I had the money and parents who would no matter what love me. Instead I was to blame for the death of my mother and brother and I didn't even know who my father was. I sighed. I could understand why so many people didn't like being around Mary, it was hard not being jealous of her life. Me included, but on the other hand I could probably be envious of everyone who didn't had to suffer from visions like mine. So I didn't see a reason why I should despise her or any other one in the first place and Mary didn't really lead the perfect life as it seemed. Yes she had money, a home etc. but nothing is as perfect as it appears.
Prejudice works both ways. Mary didn't belong in the working class and sometimes it really showed, but she didn't knew it any better. I didn't blame her, if she found it strange that I had no dentist nor an hairdresser, (not only because of the lack of money, but I didn't really wanted people touching me all the time.) but others found her arrogant and called her names. The same with her parents they couldn't understand why Mary run around with peasants and questioned her morals. I never talked to her about it, but I got the impression that she had a lot of pressure on her back and always the feeling that she didn't belong anywhere. I think that's why she loved to spend time at my flat, away from everything. Therefore it wasn't really surprising that Mary was sitting on my couch watching television, when I came back home.
"How was it?" She asked.
"How was what?"
"You know very well what I mean! You brought Keith Richards home and I can only imaging the things you got up with him! He even left you a note with his phone number and a love message! Tell me!"
I frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"Keith Richards and you, alone in your home? Or did you forget? You couldn't have been that drunk." Mary exclaimed
"No I mean what do you mean with the bit about the message?"
"Oh he left you a message in the kitchen!" She exclaimed happily.
I just nodded and took my shoes off. Just when I was about to head to my bedroom, I heard Mary yell.
"Aren't you curious at all?" I didn't reply. The message wouldn't disappear and I really needed to get out of these clothes and put something more comfortable on. In all honesty I had totally forgotten about him or I had put it out of mind. He had taken me home, because I was so drunk, undressed me and put to bed... that wasn't really something I wished to think about and I could still read the message after changing, but I highly suspected if I gave Mary another five minutes she would read it out load to me because she wanted to see my face. "You're so boring, you know. I would have read it immediately the moment I got home and you... you just I don't know, but really don't you want to know what he's written?"
I sighed. "Ok so what did he write?"
Mary cleared her throat. "Thank you for the evening and the breakfast! I'd really like to see again. My invitation is still up. Think about it? Then there's his phone number and his name. So what is he talking about?"
"He invited me and well you to some concert on the weekend."
"And you didn't accept?" I shrugged. "You're unbelievable. Hmm... on the other hand maybe that's why he's still after you. Blimey you're playing hard to get! I should have thought of that. All I've got was a fantastic night and a cab drive home. It's not too bad, but in comparison to you, it's nothing."
"Mary, I didn't sleep with him and I don't think we ever will."
"What? That doesn't make any sense, why should he keep you around then? Nothing against you but you're not really a party person."
"Thanks and I know. I think he just wanted someone around who saw him as a regular person not some freaking celebrity."
Mary laughed. "Aww and I already thought I could arrange you wedding. Well then maybe next time and having Keith Richards as your friend, can't be that bad either. Free concerts, free drinks and meeting lots of other people and you don't need to do something for it."
I sighed. "Well if I'm ever going to marry, I'll make sure to give you a ring." And with that Mary hugged me. Her death didn't bother me much anymore and still I felt sad. She hugged me, was expressing her love/ gratitude/ friendship, whatever you wanted to call it and all I could see was her dying.
"You're the best." She whispered in my ear.
I just smiled bittersweet.
Thanks for reading & voting and comments are always welcome! (:
I'll say it again, I'm not following the original timeline, besides a few real events and not every single person who was around at that time will make an appearance. I normally try to be as correct as I can, but for the sake of the plot that won't always work.
And finally a preview for Chapter 5:
"See what I meant, Bill?" So his name was Bill! "-And she likes to drink. If she was a guy, I would call her my new best friend!"
I shook my head. "No way in hell! No matter who you are Charlie's my best friend!" Mary exclaimed and I just wanted to disappear. I wasn't used to all this attention or anything. The others just laughed.
"Maybe we could trade our Charlies? You'll get Watts and I get her?" Keith proposed.
"Normally I would be the last person, to oppose such a deal, but remember we need a drummer." Mick said.
"Thanks..." Charlie sarcastically replied.