Roar Talent

I've never really analysed why Cecile and I get on. She's the boss, of course. That suits me just fine.

 

 

Important decisions we take together, but day to day living tends to be dominated by her influence. She knows me, considers me and proceeds on that basis when forging her path. I'm incredibly lucky. One might think that - with me working from home - our constant companionship might get tedious. But no. Cecile doesn't allow that. Cue an example from a few days ago.

 

"You're not songwriting at the moment, dear?" she said, noting my attempts at the crossword in the Mellowdene Examiner.

"Not today, sweetness," I replied. "I thought a break might refresh my creative juices."

"Good," she said. "You can get out of the house. Leave me to get some work done. I thought I'd give the living room a thorough vacuuming."

"Well, I could help..."

"You will, dear. You'll be out from under my feet."

I saw instantly that she wanted some alone time. It happens occasionally.

"If you're sure. Merlin's at work so..."

"You don't need him to hold your paw," she said, moving closer. "I saw Jane Seadog this morning. She mentioned that her brothers-in-law are at a loose end for the next couple of days. Why not go and see Amos and the others?" 

Acknowledging the fact she'd predetermined where I might wish to go, I thought it easiest to comply.

Off I went. 

 

o 0 O 0 o

On my return from the snack bar on East Dock Lane (I'd had an enjoyable chat with the Seadog brothers and had played a few games of jindik with Irwin, losing three and winning one) I ambled back to Butterglove House. I could still taste the blackcurrant tisane, which had been spicier than usual.

 

Passing the track that leads down the side of the house I noticed a strange car parked there. It seemed someone had a visitor. We weren’t expecting anyone.

 

I heard the motor of the vacuum cleaner humming away in the living room so made a beeline to ask Cecile about the car. However when I entered, the figure facing away from me busy vacuuming wasn't Cecile. It wasn't any other family member either. 

 

 

I was confused, and when the figure turned there was recognition... but I was still confused.

It was Lionel Grand - the famous pianist.

 

"Ah! Hello Jackson," he smiled, his rich voice cutting through the noise of the motor, "I'll just turn this off."

I stared. "You're vacuuming?"

He looked down. "Why yes, I seem to be, don't I? I took over whilst your good lady wife had to... do something. Don't recall what."

I nodded, uncertain as to the situation. Lionel continued to talk.

"Anyway, you're probably wondering why I'm here. And why wouldn't you? I drive all the way to Mellowdene... through miles of countryside..."

 

 

"...and you find me doing your housework... That's not the reason, by the way. No, I came to meet with Roxy, and decided I should pay a call here whilst I was in the village." He paused. "I'm talking too much, aren't I?"

"No..."

"Oh, good. Because I do want to talk to you. Only fair. And I suppose I'd better have a chat with Christian too..."

"Lionel," I interrupted, "there's no need to explain everything all at once. Slow down. Sit down. Relax. Take your time."

 

The garrulous lion took a deep breath. "You're right. This isn't city life. I live a hectic life and I do need to slow down." He took a seat.

 

At this point Cecile entered and she looked at me. "Oh good, you're back. Mr Grand is here to see you..."

"Lionel," said our visitor.

 

"Yes. Lionel. He's here to ask about some of your songs, Jack."

A nod, and Lionel explained. "That's right. You recall I had five of your songs and we used three on the record with Tamara Lynx?"

 

"Yes?"

"Good. Well, as they were particularly popular with my fans, my record company thought I should include the other two on my next release."

Cecile beamed. "That's great, isn't it, Jack?"

Lionel spoke before I could respond. "There's just one thing, Jackson. I don't feel Tamara's voice will do them justice. I thought that it should be a contralto and our mutual friend Roxanne Renoir would be a better match. Except..."

"It needs to be in a lower key."

"My thoughts exactly. Do you think dropping everything two tones would be sufficient or would you want to rearrange anything?"

I pondered, playing one of the songs in my mind, delaying my answer with a "let me think..." before moving on to consider the second song. Lionel watched me, expectation on his face.

Cecile nudged me. "Well?"

 

 

"I don't think they would need much revision. A few tweaks."

"And do you have time to do that within the next couple of weeks?" Lionel ventured.

"I could make a start now." 

 

"That would be marvellous. But hold off until I've seen Roxy. I think she'll go for it but I need to confirm."

He sighed. "It's nice to be here, Jackson. It feels more grounded, somehow, than the city."

 

Cecile fixed him with a look. "I told him that he was working too hard, Jack. He was telling me of his workload."

Lionel laughed. "And Cecile was telling me I needed - what was it? 'Simple time?'"

"That's it," said Cecile. "Do uncomplicated things without pressure. Sit down and..." - she glanced at me - "...do a crossword. Or domestic tasks."

 

"Like vacuuming?" Lionel winked at me.

"Did it help?" 

"It was... oddly refreshing, Cecile," he smiled. "You've got a special woman, Jackson."

"Oh, I know that."

 

"And living in a lovely village like this. I could manage a little of that."

He paused. His eyes widened. "And why can't I?"

Cecile and I exchanged looks as Lionel thought aloud.

"I could buy a house here. Come here when I need Simple Time. It would do me good. I think my music would benefit. Sometimes I think my playing is in danger of becoming too synthetic, too processed. Maybe I need a little rawness. Tap back into the raw talent."

 

He looked up. "Is there anywhere in Mellowdene I could stay for a few days?"

"There's Bassett's Boarding House," said Cecile, "although maybe an apartment at Minestrone House would be better. There's even a soundproof music practice room that a couple of the residents use. And I'm sure you could rent rooms for a short time. Have a word with Bruno Bearbury. He works on site and his brother owns the place."

 

"Sounds ideal. And isn't that where Roxy lives?"

"Yes."

"Great. I think a week should do it."

 

Cecile frowned. "Didn't you say you had a meeting at the record company in a couple of days?"

"I'll phone them and postpone. Call it car trouble."

"Your car is acting up?" I said. "There's a garage attached to Mellowdene Van Hire."

 

"Ah, no," said Lionel with a conspiratorial grin. "The car trouble is the driver. He doesn't want to drive out of Mellowdene just yet."

o 0 O 0 o