Two (Tim); A Director's Thoughts
Another one of those days at work again. Bruce has kind of told me to work on another film... I mean, I could have said no but - you don't tend to say 'no' to Bruce Anderson when he's got his mind set on something... I groan softly as I unfold myself from my car and walk up to my front door. Strange, I can hear a very familiar voice singing some very oddly familiar lyrics...
I let myself in and walk into the front room to be greeted with a sight I can't quite decide as being amusing, unnerving, or both. Heather is sat in the middle of the floor, surrounded by countless amounts of crumpled-up paper, a notebook and pen in her hands, singing along to the music at the top of her lungs.
"Uh oh, take a second take! Uh oh, it's a mistake! Uh oh, I'm in trouble...! Uh oh, the little girl was just too little too little too- Tim!" She looks up and sees me stood in the doorway, and almost falls backwards with shock. I can't stop my eyebrows from raising as she leaps to her feet, going the same red as her top, and flicking off the CD player, looking sheepish. "I - I - I -er - didn't - uh - hear you come in................"
With the music at that volume, I'm really not surprised... Her voice isn't exactly quiet either!
"It's okay." I smile and walk over, sitting down on the chair near her. "I didn't know you're a Boingo fan," I comment as she leans against my legs, resting her chin on my knee. That can't be comfortable... She looks sheepish.
"That's kinda Amy's fault... She got me into them... Kinda...." Her voice trails off. I don't question the 'kinda'; I suspect it would take a while to explain.
"Okay..."
"How was work?"
"Don't ask." I groan. Heather makes a sympathetic noise in the back of her throat and moves her head, rubbing my knee in an affectionate way. She's far too feline sometimes!
"That bad, eh?" she says gently. "Hungry?" she adds, changing the subject. Good move. I shrug. To be honest I've got far too much on my mind to worry about what I'm going to be eating. Half the time I'm too tired to even taste the damn stuff. Heather sighs softly.
"I'll go cook." she suggests, untangling her limbs from one another and standing up, heading for the kitchen. I stay where I am. I don't know whether to go after her, or to hole myself up in the study. Again. I'm terrified I'm ruining this marriage; I'm never really around, and I get like this so often. I'm no use to her, I don't know why Heather stays with me. She can't like being messed around like this. Yet she stays, and whispers my name in her sleep...
Chapter 1 ; Contents ; Chapter 3
