1
As he looked around the room he knew it was a fantastic idea.
Moving back to Hampshire was like reading an old story book that was found in a box in an attic from when he was a boy.
The house was huge with six bedrooms. Being his parent's old house he once lived with his two younger brothers and one older sister. 'I need room for my piano' he thought as he looked at an empty corner in the back room.
Charlie's a musician, and once formed a band in 1984.
Together with him; friends, Ziggy (Dan}, Ricky, Lee and Steg (Steve) played in the garage, later managing to get a few gigs, but later split, now moving on to produce his own work of 'family life.'
'I remember my first piano sat just there.' He smirked as he brought old dusty box inside. His Mother sitting him down from the age of eight adamant he will learn. The haunting sounds of Moonlight Sonata bounced of the wall and echoed like a distant memory. Ghost like she sat in posture playing, as he perched on the stool watching and learning, closing his eyes a tear almost fell, his heart wrenched.
Shaking his head he returned to reality, his home now but again.
The furniture had already been delivered and beds where all made. The kids rooms where ready for them when they came back. Slowly took in the scent and remembered flash backs from his youth.
Finding himself in is old room as if his legs took him; every thing seemed the same, as he was always hording, keeping stuff that was once in that room and now still there. It was like he didn't like to change a thing.
Chas crouched over a box of old clipping of magazines, articles, Guitar books and a very old melody maker from 1984, and then...
He pulled up a local ad with one of their gigs advertised, black and white photos with all of them looking very young.
Chas's flash backs became more apparent now as he sat on the bed and closed his eyes.
"We started just as friends but became lovers as the time went on.
It was so long ago but feels like yesterday when I see your face in the magazine."
Chas sighed heavily and dropped the book to answer the phone that broke his thoughts with its annoying tone.
"Hey Chas heard you moved back to old roots. Listen I'm in England for the week just wondered if I could drop by and say hi and reminisce some old memories of the old place."
It was Ricky, the one friend he still kept in contact after all these years.
He was living in the States now, a successful businessman. Working in dealing cars well; limos and vintage cars, always a passion he had back then.
"Sure be fantastic, I found a lot of old stuff whilst clearing out, I wanted something to show you," Chas grinned holding an old crinkled envelope full of paper.
"Oh?"
"I will get in a few cans, and the hard shit" He chuckled.
"Sounds great I will be over in say in couple of hours about seven good for you?"
"Ok see you then, I'll order pizza too."
"Be fantastic Bud!"
"Yes, you surprized, but then you always did" He blushed as a tingle ran down his body.
Putting down the phone running his hand though his dark brown hair with such elation, his heart raced. Spending the day looking through all the archives he kept for twenty- two years, he was so excited he could barely keep from grinning.
"Shit!" he cursed realising that he was supposed to get all the boxes unpacked but instead, he was sat in the room he used to own reading these notes.
He looked at the clock that said twenty-five to seven.
He was going to be here in twenty five minutes or so and he had done nothing.
In such a rush to get the place looking homely he dropped an old photo, it smashed on the wooden flooring.
Picking it up he found it was Grace's and his wedding picture, she will be furious.
But as he took out the photo, there was a surprise behind it.
Ricky and he staring back looking so happy, adolescent at the time.
'We must have been in our mid to late twenties he pondered, trailing a finger over his face.
The door knocked scaring the crap out of him, sliding the picture into his back pocket its then scurried about to make the place look presentable. There was Ricky stood smiling then embraced him for longer than he expected.
"Been a long time old man but you still look fantastic."
Chas blushed; cheeks redden like a little garden gnome.
"So do you. Why haven't you got fat like the rest of us?" he laughed letting him in.
"Exercise and T- total these days, well to a degree." That charmed smile caught his heart once again.
"Fuck that! I still like my beer and I convince my self vodka is slimming but hey" he shrugged.
They walk in to the kitchen Chas opens a bottle of wine still smiling like a cat, excited at the thought of what he wanted to show his old friend.
"Well does this mean you won't be sharing this with me?" he poured a glass.
"Ah sure why not, it's only a glass or two" He winked.
"Great, beers in the fridge if you prefer," Hands him the glass and pours one for him. He was always found of a glass of Chardonnay, even though it was a little uncool to drink wine back then.
They sip quietly for a time, Ricky looking around remembering the old days they had here.
"Wow it hasn't changed much, still got that god awful wallpaper in the hall," They laughed, then silent again.
"Well this will need work but it's worth it just to buy the house for the sake of Mum,"
He went serious as he sat down next to him on the sofa that still had a plastic cover on.
"I'm sorry mate, how..?
"...Two years now but the pain never fades."
"Sorry."
"Don't be she didn't suffer, Dad came over and helped until... Anyway how have you been? You are looking well as I already stated."
"Never better, apart from that bitch putting me through hell"
"Oh I'm sorry."
"Don't be glad it's all over, free and single again" He laughed loud.
"Never the man to be shackled or caged"
"Too much agro, too much hurt, I was better with you guys. Have fun and life."
"Like old times," They chinked glasses and drank in this room like youngsters again.
For a short time the memories came to life. Flickers from the past appeared; the old arm chair, the tiny black and white television, even the smell was still lingered in the air. The bread Chas's Mother used to make, and his Dad pipe sitting in his chair reading the sport peering over his glasses saying 'You boys ain't up to mischief I hope,' as they fled out the door or locked the bedroom door.
