-21

i remember: john lennon.
i am not a beatles fan. never have been, never will be.
i was unemployed when lennon was shot. it meant i had to listen to endless hours of beatles and john lennon songs (yes i know i could have been out looking for work, but i wasn’t). it was my first experience of the mass mourning that would soon become the standard response of the general public at the death of anyone who was vaguely famous.

lennon re-entered my life when i fell in love with a scouser. seemingly all scousers love the beatles and annemarie was no different. because i loved her i listened to her beatles records, true i got my own back by subjecting her to whitesnake and frank zappa.
as love is about compromise we managed to come to a balance about what we listened to: mostly we listened to what she wanted.

now annemarie had a younger sister. during the period of time i was dating annemarie her sister’s mental health declined (pretty sure that it had nothing to do with me), it was a situation that had some odd moments.

at this particular time i was working as many hours as i could in order to earn as much overtime as was humanly possible. annemarie has debts and i was trying to help clear them (ah the folly of love), additionally she had a child so the need for a decent wage was doubly important. so i worked, while annemarie studied.

this particular day i had done more than enough hours and there was little else i could do. more importantly i had a desire to get home, play with the kid, put him to bed and snuggle up to the girlfriend. it was a nice plan. it was a plan that made me rush out of the warehouse with a shit-eating grin on my face. it was a plan that meant i coped with the pressures of the rush hour journey home with little more than a sigh.

i didn’t walk up the stairs to the flat – i ran, i danced, i floated: hell i was young and in love.

the “honey i am home” had barely died on my lips when i realised something was wrong. the kid was in his bedroom just playing with his toys, not unusual you think but normally the toys would be strewn all over the flat and he would play with them in the hall.
the voices coming from the kitchen gave me a clue as to what was coming.
sitting around the table was an exasperated annnemarie, her sister and her mum. a sinking feeling told me i had just entered the final act of a russian tragedy and i was destined to play a pivotal role, all the while knowing that no matter what i did i end up saying the wrong thing. even the wisdom of solomon would not save me.

all thoughts of a family night went down the drain. the idea of getting romantic at the end of the evening with the lady was like dust in the wind.

instead i was confronted with the opening gambit: “tell l there is no one looking in the window at her”
now there are several facts to bear in mind here: we lived on the 4th floor, l and her mum on the 12th floor of their block, i had just come home from a long workday. all of which guarantees that uncle pat is not going to give the right answer.
and guess what my answer wasn’t even close, not even in the same ballpark.
now both annemarie and me were sociologists, so i thought she would appreciate my answer:
“empirically i can’t say no one is looking in the window, but…” even before i started the final part of the sentence i was getting the look from annemarie that said “you are so not getting sex for a year and you are sleeping on the couch for a long time”. it is a look that could freeze hell and stop the sun.
limply i finished: “but i am pretty sure no one is looking in through the windows, at anyone in either of the flats…”
the complete answer met with a silence that indicated that everyone knew i was sleeping on the couch.
my goose was cooked.

but annemarie offered a, slim, chance of redemption.
could i grasp it? what do you think?
yup i fumbled it.
but hey lets see how you would have done…
“tell l that john lennon isn’t talking to her from the tv”
go on admit it not as easy as you thought it was going to be…
i could pretend i had a witty and sensible answer that solved the problem, but i didn’t.
it was a moment where time stood still, where everything when hyperfocus and i stood slack jawed for a moment or two too long.
a lame “no l he is not talking to you from the tv, he is dead…..”
“he is, he is”
“well just change the channel then, or turn the sound down….”
another one of those looks.

i beat a retreat to the kid’s bedroom. we made lego spaceships. i read him a story. he went to sleep.
l stayed the night.
i got the couch several days and sex was off the menu for quite a time.

i still hate john lennon.