Lily and the band

John stared at the flashing notification on his laptop, more than a little dumbfounded.

“Is it Sarah?” John’s wife Bev, wanted to know. “Please tell me she’s alright!”

The couple had been married for thirty-two years, and their eldest daughter was due to give birth in a week’s time! Sarah lived with her husband in Australia where both had good jobs and bright futures. As John hated flying, Bev was planning to go out alone to help once the baby was born.

“It’s nothing to do with Sarah.”

“What is it, then?”

“Just a blast from the past, that’s all.”

“So long as she and the baby are alright. What’s this blast from the past?”

“It’s Jack Sullivan. He wants to meet up,” John explained.

“Jack Sullivan?” Bev rolled the name round her tongue as if tasting it.

“How many men of that name do you know?” John blasted.

“No need to shout!”

“Sorry. I’m on tenterhooks about the baby too, you know.”

“I know! I just need to be there for her.”

“You will be soon, and don’t forget Sarah has Gary. Won’t be long now!”

Bev tried to make the next question sound innocuous. “Wasn’t there some kind of falling out with your first band?”

“Why do you say that?”

“I’m your wife. I know these things.”

“More of a parting of the ways. I’d had enough of the band.”

That was about as far as John was prepared to go on the thorny topic of Jack Sullivan.

***

Seated at a table rarely used for eating, John’s mind rolled back the years. The last time he’d seen Jack they’d been smoking roll-ups and dazzling their fans in leather jackets. “Sex on fire,” they’d been called, and they’d certainly liked to think so!

As John conjured up Jack’s youthful image, he could almost taste the oaky beer and smell the pungent smokiness of the pub where the band had set up against a backdrop of strobes, speakers and the odd disdainful glitter ball, to play their hearts out on stage. That evening the place had been buzzing. “The Quirkrocks” were getting a name for themselves and building a following.

“Testing, one, two, three. Testing. One, two, three.” Jack’s voice had sounded cool over the mic.

Three taps of the drums and they were off. It was John’s first experience of playing in a band, and heady stuff for an eighteen-year-old! At twenty, the more seasoned Jack was on his third band, and at twenty-five, the two other members, Rick and Cliff, were practically ready to collect their pensions!

***

The couple had never spoken about John’s time with the Quirkrocks. Until now. Blowing out a candle that left a lingering scent of geraniums and patchouli, Bev said, “Remind me again. What was it you fell out over?”

John flipped back to the present. “Nothing much, really.”

“Temperamental differences, perhaps? The usual arguments over who was the better musician?”

“Not exactly.”

“If it means anything, I’ve always loved your playing.”

“Thanks Bev.” John kissed his wife’s cheek. Maybe what she said was true, but back in the day, the focus had always been on Jack.

Bev rolled her eyes. “I’ve lost count of the rivalries and general soul searching that goes on with bands -- at least all the ones you’ve been in.”

“Part and parcel of being in a band, love. I can’t hear myself unless I play loud and not everyone appreciates it.”

“I’ll never forget the time that keyboard player told you to turn it down in the middle of the gig. What was his name? It’s on the tip of my tongue. Something silly, wasn’t it?”

“Mitch Udder.”

“Udderly ridiculous! He got in such a strop, I thought he was going to deck you one!”

John grimaced. “Not one of my better gigs.”

“It beats me how grown men can get so worked up. You’d think they’d know better, but apparently not.”

“Tell me about it! All part of the fun.”

“A bit like stags clashing antlers on moorland. Bruised and battered but generally undefeated.”

“Sometimes they are defeated,” John muttered, thinking it an apt metaphor for his own life.

“You know I don’t profess to any deep understanding of rock music or any other kind, but I’ve always had a good ear. You’re a talented bass player and you’ve never been too loud for me.”

“Thanks, love. It’s always nice to get the odd compliment, makes it worthwhile,” John said philosophically.

“I know you’d have liked to have gone further with your music. I mean done more than the pub scene.”

“There’s nothing wrong with playing in pubs!” John said fiercely.

“Keep your hair on. I didn’t say there was.”

“Anyway. I gave up any dreams about making it long ago. I might have got session work if I’d learnt to read music, but now it’s just a hobby, nothing more.”

But however much he protested, Bev knew music was a lasting love with John. Nothing could beat the rush of playing to a live audience, even if the present fan base mainly consisted of men in their middle years with long hair and attitude!

As a teacher, Bev wasn’t used to prolonged silences -- unless it involved giving pupils detentions.

“So, are you going to tell me the real reason you and Ed fell out?”

After getting a grunt for a reply, Bev said, “I’m heading to bed.” Years of marriage had taught her when to let John drift off and sort things out for himself. He’d tell her when he was ready.

“Keep the bed warm. I’ll be up soon,” he said.

***

At the table, John continued to mull. When it came to music, he’d always hit the right notes with Jack. He’d been happy for Jack to front the band and play lead guitar while he played bass.

One night, a young woman rocked up in faded jeans and denim jacket. Pretty as a picture, Lily had strawberry blonde hair, enormous blue eyes and hair that smelt of Spring. The moment he laid eyes on this exotic creature John fell heavily.

“Looks like you’re in there, young Johnny!” Jack remarked later when they were packing up after the gig.

“Yeah. She’s amazing. I’ve never felt so alive round someone.”

“Oh! You’ve got it bad, man.” Jack had jested.

***

Unable to sleep, Bev reappeared in her dressing gown and touched her husband’s shoulder.

“I thought you were going to bed.” he said.

“I can’t settle. I thought I’d come down and make a drink. Want one?”

“No thanks.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to do about Jack?”

“I dunno. He says he wants to meet up later this week. I know it’s short notice and not the best time with the baby due, but it seemed important. Would you mind if I went?”

“Why not? Didn’t you say he was the best person you’d ever played with?”

“Hmmmm.”

“I mean how many years is it since you last saw him?”

“I dunno. Doesn’t bear thinking about. Too long!”

***

Recalling the evening it had all come crashing down round his ears wasn’t easy. Leaving the pub for a breather after the first set, he’d come across Jack and Lily locked together in the car park. The kiss had been passionate, not something he could dismiss. Feeling like the stars had dropped from the sky, he’d walked away leaving behind a trail of broken dreams.

Even more galling was the speed at which the band had picked up the pieces and replaced him. Only months after he left, they were touring Europe.

At some point, Bev had shown up like a light on the horizon. A port in a storm, she’d been the friend who helped him pick up the pieces. No one was surprised when after a while, the pair got married, had two daughters and settled down.

***

A few days after the magnolia flowers had burst from their protective velvety jackets, John stepped foot in his old hometown. Trees which had been planted by children as part of a nature project near the shopping centre, sprouted pink and white blossoms. John hadn’t visited the place since his parents had passed. In the intervening years, buildings had worked their way into the town’s fabric with varying degrees of success. He wasn’t sure whether he was pleased or disappointed to discover the creepy old gas works had been torn down. At every corner, the old landmarks tugged, and he was amazed how small everything seemed.

At first sight, Jack appeared unchanged. Seated at a dimly lit booth in the town’s oldest restaurant where the pair had agreed to meet, his dark hair, though shorter than before, was only slightly grey-flecked. And another gut-puncher; unlike himself, there was no obvious sign of a paunch.

“You haven’t changed mate.” Stepping forward, John half-hugged, half shook his old friend by the hand.

“Neither have you, John. Well, not much anyway.” For a few minutes they found themselves laughing at the absurdities of life.

On closer inspection, Jack’s eyes revealed themselves as tired and baggy, and every feature was drawn out. After his initial enthusiasm, Jack appeared deflated.

“I heard about your recent success,” John said, attempting to break the ice.

“Oh, that.”

“You don’t sound as happy as I’d have expected,” John said.

“After the song was posted on the internet, things went viral. Just luck.”

Other than limited incursions into the online rock world which was how he’d discovered Jack had wanted to reconnect, John rarely bothered with that side of social media.

“So, apart from worldwide internet success, how’s the rest of life treating you?”

But the strange reticence continued.

“Oh, you know... More importantly. What about you?”

“Yeah, you know.”

***

Still, John couldn’t bring himself to ask about Lily. He was holding back on the joys of impending grandfather-hood too. It didn’t fit the mood.

“You know I never found a bass player to match you,” Jack burst out suddenly.

“Really? I guess I was pretty awesome.” They both laughed again. “But seriously, Jack. That can’t be true! You must have played with great people since our glory days!”

“Not really. We had a kind of magic.”

“With hindsight, maybe me leaving the band wasn’t such a great idea,” John admitted as the years slowly melted away.

Jack leaned forward. “I didn’t want you to. Why did you?”

“You know why.”

Jack blushed. “You mean Lily?”

“Why else would I have left?”

“You really liked her, didn’t you?”

John looked away. Liking didn’t come close to the tangled emotions of losing his first love.

“I’m sorry about all that, man. It was a long time ago. I hoped you’d have forgiven me by now. We never meant to fall for one another. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I know how it is.” John tried not to sound bitter. There was no point in reopening old wounds.

“Can you ever forgive me? You can’t help who you fall for and all that.”

“That’s true,” John agreed.

The thing is….” Jack played around with the cutlery, unable to meet his old friend’s eyes. “I wanted to tell you in person.” Something gave and his voice came out strangled. “My Lily died three months ago from cancer. One of her last wishes was for us to reconcile.”

John couldn’t believe what he was hearing!

“I’m so sorry, mate,” he said. “I had no idea. When I heard about your recent success on some tv show, I turned off.”

Jack bent his head. “I can’t say I blame you. I know how much Lily meant to you. I’ve always felt bad about what happened.”

“You mean how she chose you over me! I’m sorry, that came out wrong. Especially after what you’ve just told me.”

The silence was broken by a waiter dropping a plate. It was followed by raucous clapping and cheers from a nearby table.

“It’s noisy in here tonight,” Jack said.

“Lily was special,” John said when the hubbub died down. “At the time, she rocked my world.”

Jack bent his head. “Mine too! Do you think I’d have have risked our friendship for anything less?”

“Maybe I should have let the dust settle.” John spoke half to himself, half to Jack. “But hindsight is a wonderful thing! I was young and in love. I just couldn’t deal with seeing you and Lily together!”

Jack was pensive. “You know, it wasn’t always roses for us two. I spent months away touring. She didn’t want to drag the kids away from school. She had her doubts.”.

“Doubts?” John’s ears almost wagged. “What about?”

Jack laughed mirthlessly. “About whether she’d chosen the right man, you mug. She loved you before me.”

But not enough to be with me.

“You know, I always thought your Bev was pretty amazing.”

John was surprised. “I didn’t know you knew her.”

“She was there at the last two gigs, remember? Everyone could see she only had eyes for you.”

“I’d forgotten,” John said.

Jack decided to take a risk. “Can you be sure you and Lily would have worked out, if things had been different?”

John exhaled noisily. “Maybe not.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, you always did have your head in the clouds, mate. Dreaming about the perfect band, the perfect world, the perfect woman.”

“At the time Lily seemed like the perfect woman.”

“I loved her, but she wasn’t perfect. No one is.”

“That’s what my Bev says.”

“Right now, I’d give a lot to swap places with you, mate.”

“Hands off,” John said, and Jack smiled sheepishly.

***.

“Well. How did it go with Jack?” Bev’s voice was an unexpected tonic over the airwaves.

“It went alright, but I’ll tell you more about it when I see you.” John had stopped at the roadside to call his wife before setting off on his journey home. The sun had been replaced by rain pelting sheets across the windscreen. If it continued like this, the wipers would struggle to keep pace.

“Are the two of you going to keep in touch?” Bev asked.

“We said we would.”

“I’m pleased.”

“Jack wasn’t in the best place when I met him,” John said slowly. “His wife died recently.”

“Lily died?” Bev was shocked. “That’s sad.”

“Yes, it is. I’d forgotten you must have known her.”

“Only a little in passing. But I felt as if I knew her well.”

When the rain eased up, John stepped on the gas. With each passing mile, the gap between past and present was narrowing. Jack’s words about him being a dreamer rang true. Perhaps it was time to stop wondering about what might have been and focus on what was. If Bev had always been there for him, he doubted whether Lily would have done the same when the chips were down. In reality, she and Jack had been well-matched. Perhaps he’d been clinging onto the memory of what might have been for too long.

Now there was a grandchild on the way. A Spring baby, bringing Spring hope. Maybe he’d even find the strength to overcome his fear of flying. By casting off the past’s shadows, he might learn to enjoy what he had now – before it was too late!

On the last leg of the journey home, the rain abated. The sun’s tendrils broke through bathing the sky in a warm glow.

“Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight,” John murmured to himself.

On impulse, he drew up at a 24/7 supermarket, seized the biggest bunch of flowers he could find and carefully placed them on the car’s back seat. Symbolic of new beginnings, the lilies bloomed triumphant, their exotic white trumpets reminding him of music and the feeling of being alive.

Then he drove home without stopping.