“Mum, I think you should chill out and sit down.” Brendon followed me into my study as I went to look for my things.
“You BLOODY started this!” I began sifting through all the papers on my desk, desperately trying to find my Apple tablet.” I need to get my thoughts into words…I’m having some amazing ideas.”
“That’s normal Mum, it makes you think. Everybody knows that.”
“Well, you might know that and the people over there might know that and the people that…don’t know WHERE they are might know that but…” I suddenly located my iPhone. That would have to suffice. Then I had another thought. “Where’s my iPad Brendon? Did you sell it to furnish yourself with recreational drugs?” I peered into his eyes looking for any signs of lies like a trained profiler.
“Are you trying to ‘out mentalist’ me Mum?” He stared straight back at me. “You know that’s impossible because I am way smarter than you.”
“PFFT, you like to think that but I actually run rings around you without you EVEN knowing. And if my iPad doesn’t turn up I’ll be selling your computer.”
“Mum. Whatever. I thought you were weird before but you’re actually fucking mental.”
I took my phone and wandered in the direction of the happy buddha, Karl, who was giggling away on the sofa watching re-runs of Blackadder. I sat in the corner section of the settee and got to work.
MSG: TO COLIN FRAY: Hey Col, it’s me Soph. Guess what – I’ve had an amazing idea about feeding people.
MSG: TO JOHN SMITH: Johnno, guess what, I think I could get Frank to sponsor an awesome idea I’ve had. Remind me on…that day I come to work.
I sat there waiting for them to reply. It took forever but in reality it was actually only two minutes. “Whoa, the time’s on a go slow!” I said to Karl, “Everything seems to be taking ages but it’s not really…Bizarre…”
“Sophie, the days are always long in this house.” He smiled over at me. He was now looking completely relaxed and like he’d never, ever left us.
“Were you supposed to be going somewhere tonight?” I questioned, “you said not especially, when I asked earlier.” My phone beeped.” Hold on,” I said, raising my hand to Karl to stop him responding.
COLIN FRAY: I know it’s you Soph, it tells me it’s you when you text ;) Feeding the people? What people?
SOPHIE RHODES: You know, the people…of the world. Well round here to start with but it could be a peno…pheromone…
“ARRR Fucking phone!” I said out loud to it as I texted.
Phenomenon! Seriously Colin, it’s a new kinda soup kitchen idea!!!
Beep beep.
JOHN SMITH: You should be out enjoying yourself. We’re all at the Canal House if you’re interested.:P
SOPHIE RHODES: I can’t – I’ve eaten cake. I’ll see you in another life.
JOHN SMITH: What? LOL. Well, whatever it is, I can’t wait to work with you on it :D
I put my phone down on the sofa and went off to find one of my many notebooks. I had a wonderful collection of them since I had a love of all things of paper and stationery. My adoration was so great that I couldn’t bring myself to use some of them because they were too beautiful to spoil. I still felt as though I was walking on spongey ground and had to be very deliberate of my actions. I teetered slowly past Brendon, stationed at his Starship Enterprise.
“Mommy!” He leaned back in his chair and grabbed my arm.
“Don’t touch me,” I said, batting his arm away.
I found my books and decided life was too short to not use the damn things. Besides, now I had a drug lord in the house I may as well get writing in them before they got used at Rizla replacements. I picked out a stunning red leather one that had a long wrap around, leather cord to keep it closed. The paper pages were thick and lustrous; cream coloured and gilt edged. I lifted it to my nose and breathed in the rich scent of the new pages that were reminiscent of vanilla, talcum powder and beeswax polish. Ahhh…this one is perfect for such incredible ideas, I thought. I grabbed a pen and went back to the lounge of the Blackadder marathon. I sat back in my corner and opened my delightful book and ran my hand smoothly down the first page.
“What are you doing?” Karl looked over as his sleepy eyes broke away from Baldrick for a second.
“Changing the world,” I replied, heady with belief. He smiled and returned to the TV.
I began to write: Sophie’s soup kitchens. I underlined it as it was SO important.
Half slices of toast, bagged and saved.
Leftovers from too much cooking.
Leftovers collected from restaurants.
Leftovers collected from peoples dinner parties.
Collections from Asda and Tesco before they shut shop.
Excuse to talk to that hot Greek bloke at the chippy.
Beautiful red phone boxes littering our land once more and filled with people eating.
Maybe emergency blankets and cans of lager stored inside.
My phone beeped.
COLIN FRAY: Don’t we already have soup kitchens or something along those lines?
SOPHIE RHODES: Well I’ve never seen one – have you?
COLIN FRAY: Err, no, but I’m sure there’s something.
SOPHIE RHODES: YES but not everywhere – I’m going to turn red phone boxes into a ‘dining for one’ experience!
COLIN FRAY: O…K…sounds peculiarly interesting. Better than the current conversation I’m having over here anyway!
SOPHIE RHODES: Are you in the canal with Johnno?
COLIN FRAY: You mean the Canal House?! No, I’m with Trudie and a selection of her friends in Tantra.
SOPHIE RHODES: A harem of women in Tantra bar! Tut tut, Colin. Maybe this one’s a keeper then?! ;)
COLIN FRAY: It’s £5 for a coke in here! Robbing bastards! And no, I’d rather be ANYWHERE else than here…sigh.
SOPHIE RHODES: A fiver for a coke! You can get a blow job for less than that in this city!
COLIN FRAY: SOPH!!
SOPHIE RHODES: I can’t believe you haven’t pulled rank and told the manager who you are! You can get free drinks like that you know…I do!
COLIN FRAY: Please tell me you DON’T do that..:O
SOPHIE RHODES: Only at McDonalds ;) Ok – I need to work on my phone boxes – go away and get busy with your bitches and I’ll see you someday soon.
COLIN FRAY: Monday, Soph, Monday would be good. :D
Before I put down my phone I remembered ‘The Voice.’ I clicked on my game. I tried to play a remarkable word but couldn’t seem to find one. I settled with AE on the side of something else. It was lame but it rid me of the irritable vowel syndrome.
SOPHISTICATION: So why are you called The Voice? What are you, a singer or something? A singing monkey perhaps?
I looked over at Karl who seemed to be in a world of his own, watching TV in a spaced out kind of way. I felt suddenly weary.
“Are you tired?” I asked.
“Very,” he replied, laughing a little after he said it.
“What’s so funny now?!” God, I’d never seen him laugh so much.
“We’ve been drugged by our son, and whilst I want to go crazy at him, I’ve actually been the most happy and relaxed than I have in a long time.” He locked his eyes with mine and kept my gaze. I didn’t like it and broke away. Way too uncomfortable. “It reminds me of the days when we used to have fun, when life was easy. Remember those days Soph?”
“Not nearly enough,” I sighed. “They’ve been sullied by hardship and sadness.”
“Look, let’s go to bed,” he suggested.
I looked at him blankly. Did he mean he was going to my bed? Wasn’t he going to stay here on the sofa?
“Let me just sleep next to you. I want nothing else.” He looked sincere and honest. “I just miss lying next to you and sleeping. Having someone warm nearby. Having you nearby.” His eyes looked remarkably glossy but maybe I just wanted to see that. Besides, his face had been leaking all night long.
I sat in bed cloaked in my fluffy white dressing gown and propped up with pillows. I was scrolling through the e mails on my phone and though I was tired my mind was on fire. I also felt wildly uncomfortable about Karl sleeping in my bed. Our bed. Weird.
He came out of the en -suite dressed only in his Calvin Klein boxer shorts. I burst out laughing and looked away.
“What?” he smirked. “Have you forgotten what a fine looking specimen I am?”
“You’re an arrogant wanker.” I smiled. “This whole situation is insane. This whole night is insane.” I mulled it over in my busy head.
He pulled back the sheets and got into the side of the bed where he once used to sleep like it was the most normal thing in the world. I moved my legs further to my side as he got in and felt myself stiffen.
“Ah, I love this bed.”
I looked down at him as he grabbed his pillow and snuggled into it like a child. He glanced up at me, with a soft, dreamy expression. “Come and give me a cuddle, Soph.”
I felt the familiar lurch in my stomach. A mixture of pain, longing and fear. It would be easy to fall into his arms and yield to the warmth and protection but it would be a short lived joy that would only serve to open up old wounds when the morning light fell on my face.
“In a bit..” I stalled. “I still have to change the world.” I smiled and rubbed his hand under the sheets.
“You change everybody’s world Sophie.” He held onto my hand under the covers as he shut his eyes. “Don’t be long,” he whispered.
Please just go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep. I said the mantra over in my mind so I wouldn’t succumb to him or to my own needs that were beginning to break through my protective wall. I sat very still, holding onto his hand and watched him for several minutes as he drifted into dreamland.
I looked around the room and at the pretty Cath Kidston wallpaper that adorned the walls. It looked particularly shabby-chic in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Faded flowers in pale, washed out blue. Shabby chic could pretty much sum me up of late, I thought wryly. I slipped my hand slowly out of Karl’s. He was oblivious to the change and remained deeply unconscious. I still felt peculiar and wasn’t sure if that was still the effect of the brownie or the surreal situation I was currently experiencing. I took my attention back to my phone and clicked on my word game. The Voice had played and my mood lifted a little.
THE VOICE: No I’m not a singing monkey. Sorry to disappoint.
I played my turn as I wondered why he had called himself ‘The Voice.’ User names tended to have some sort of relevance or aspiration attached to them.
SOPHISTICATION: OK. So are you a narrator? A politician? A pundit? A voice over person? Or maybe you just like the sound of your own voice…is that it?
I waited for a reply. It was clearly wakey, wakey time in his part of the world. I must find out where that is, I thought. The little green bubble appeared along with his played word. It wasn’t a great play and our scores were only a few points apart.
THE VOICE: No. I’m none of those things. Though I’m marveling at your sudden interest in me and the fact you are partaking in the art of conversation.
SOPHISTICATION: Don’t marvel too much. I’m just interested in people on the whole.
But ‘The Voice’ was piquing my interest. I didn’t know why and tried to analyse it. He was quite rude, well, maybe short and quippy rather than really rude. Besides, that didn’t bother me. I lived in England where sarcasm and smart arses were usually the order of the day. He had certainly got under my skin in the first place which was always a sure fire way to get a reaction from me but it wasn’t just that. Competitive, yes, he played the game well; intelligent and droll from what I could surmise at this early stage from his text and delivery. Challenging: almost certainly. These were attributes that I tended to like in a person.
THE VOICE: Oh and I thought it was just me. I’m almost hurt.
Hmm. I thought as I read his text. You are very droll indeed.
SOPHISTICATION: Almost? I must try a little harder in future.
The game was getting near to ending and I wondered if he’d just disappear back into the ether or we’d move on to round two.
THE VOICE: I work in the entertainment sector but I am nothing as glamorous as you imagine. What do you do? Something sophisticated?
I hated it when conversations took an about turn to focus on me. I didn’t like talking about myself and my life. It seemed like an invasion of my privacy yet I was more than happy to do that to others. I always felt like I was expected to live up to something fabulous as my true reality would spark very little interest. I played my word and took the lead.
That’ll do, I thought.
THE VOICE: WOW. You sound like you really love your job.
SOPHISTICATION: I do like it, but on the whole that’s what I do. Where do you come from Mr. Voice, another planet?
Maybe he’ll leave ‘the all about me’ part alone now and I could direct the conversation back to him.
THE VOICE: I’d like to see some of your writing, if I may
Oh for the love of God. Really? Why? I wondered.
SOPHISTICATION: I really don’t think you’d be interested it.
There. That should end that.
THE VOICE: How do you know whether I’d be interested in it or not? If I wasn’t interested I wouldn’t have asked.
SOPHISTICATION: Well, you really don’t strike me as the sort of guy who’d rush home, kick off his shoes, lay on the sofa with a nice cappuccino as you hasten to read an article about the upcoming interior trends.
Only seven letters were left on my tile rack.
THE VOICE: I want to see your writing ‘style’.
Style. Hmmm. Usually oppressed and lacking any spice or eloquence when you had to cram as much info about furniture and trend into a 300 word article. Still, he wasn’t letting up so I sent a couple of links to the online magazines.
THE VOICE: Thank you. And I live in another planet called California.
Oh, it was like that was it? A quid pro quo.
So the voice was in Californ-I-A. That would explain the time difference. I tried to remember from my previous trips to San Fran and L.A – about 8 hours behind. Gorgeous, sunny days, palm trees and wide boulevards. He lived in the land of the beautiful where ‘teeth, tits and toes’ took priority. Well, not all of California, but that had been my initial reaction to LA LA land. I often wondered if one day ALL the women over there would carve, starve and Botox themselves into Stepford perfection; becoming similarly beautiful and yet so vacuous. And when that day came, the everyday, flawed and natural women from the other lands would dominate as the new beauties of the world as they stood uniquely next to the moulded.
SOPHISTICATION: Very nice. I’m jealous. Mostly of your sunshine and American bacon.
I finished my play and won by 11 points. I couldn’t be certain but I was almost sure he’d allowed that to happen. The chat line remained open.
THE VOICE: Rematch, or does amusing and rare = one game stand?
I couldn’t help but smile at his banter.
SOPHISTICATION: Of course. You may start one but I will resume ‘rare and amusing’ play tomorrow as I’m going to sleep, if that suits you?
THE VOICE: Tomorrow is fine. Going to bed means you live in Europe? England? France? Poland? Some island somewhere?
SOPHISTICATION: A remote island full of amusing monkeys. England.
THE VOICE: You have an isle of dogs, why not isle of monkeys. Sleep well English person.
Well he’s either visited the East end of London or he’s well read, I thought to myself. I scrolled back through our chat looking for meanings, and subtle shades; trying to build the character from across the pond in my mind and understand why I felt a connection with him.
I turned off my phone and let out a deep sigh. What a crazy world I lived in. I looked down at Karl who hadn’t even moved and was sleeping soundly in another place. Just where I longed to be. I turned off the light and snuggled down into the bed so I too, could appreciate the nuance of an alternate reality like the deep sleeper beside me.