lucky.”
“I’ll have custody of the kids whenever you like.”
“No you won’t.”
“Don’t complain then.”
Cathy touches my arm. “I’m sorry, Jake. You’re dead right.”
“Where’s Harry?”
“God knows.”
“He seemed very keen on coming.”
“I think he is looking for alternatives.”
“You’re joking.”
“Things have been very tense between us the last couple of weeks.”
“He said. Something about you fearing being pregnant or something.”
“He told you that?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, well that was part of it. The other part of it is that apparently I am a leper.”
“His parents?”
“Oh, he told you that too, did he?”
“Yeah. Talkative chap.”
“More talkative with you than he is with me. He hardly says a word to me at the moment.”
Something about Cathy’s admission pleased me and it was not because it upset her.
“Jade’s putting on a bit of weight,” she commented casually, watching me carefully.
“Yeah, comes from working in a bakery. Too many pies and things lying around.”
“If you say so.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
Better bite this bullet. “Do you think she is pregnant or something?”
“Either that or she is a diabetic.”
“Not that I know of. Why?”
“Continuously going off to the loo and drinking only water.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Oh well, if she is she is.”
“Would that make you happy?”
“To be honest, two children are quite enough, but if more come along I’ll just have to give up the song writing and step up the estate agency work.”
“Poor you.”
“You’re not kidding.”
“Will you take me home?”
“You had enough?”
“Yeah, I’ve had quite enough.”
“Hang on. I’ll just see how Jade is fixed.”
Jade was keen to stay on for another hour or so but she wasn’t going to leave Cathy and me alone together so she insisted that we wait twenty minutes for her to say goodbye to her mates. On the way back to Cathy’s place off Pickering Park (Priory Grove, which used to be my place too) Cathy and Jade sat in the back and I sat in the front again. They didn’t say much to each other.
I got out with Cathy. “Night,” I said and hesitated before stepping forward and kissing her on the cheek.
She looked at me rather forlornly. “Night, Jake.”
I got back in the taxi next to Jade.
“You two were looking a bit lovey-dovey this evening, weren’t you?” she said.
“You mean I’m still alive?”
Chapter 8
The Mississippi flows
Just not down the Humber or the Ouse tha knows
Suppose that’s just the way it goes
There’s no good place to start
Nothing in this world shines
Like old New York in the movie minds
Of men like me who learned our lines
But never got the part
But give me a 57 Chevy or a Cadillac
And I could hit those dirt roads just like Kerouac
And old Dean Moriarty
As sad as it seems
I’m an English dreamer
With American dreams
I still bring Broadway down
But it’s in backrooms of pubs in cold, grey northern towns
When I shut my eyes sad as it sounds
I can almost hear the screaming
I’ve had to accept it’s true
That I’ll never be Gram nor you Emmylou
Oh I had wings I just never flew
But it never stopped me dreaming
Give me a 57 Chevy or a Cadillac
And I could hit that dirt road just like Kerouac
And old Dean Moriarty
As dumb as it seems
I’m an English dreamer
With American dreams.
Here I am again at The Black Swan Inn in York. Jerry is headlining tonight. Jade is at home feeling sorry for herself. The pregnancy is knocking her out. Jerry’s attention is straying towards which women here this evening may be loose enough to rattle. Not what I need. Jerry has a knack of getting himself into some fine scrapes and dragging everyone else in there with him. He then gets himself out of them again, which cannot always be said for everyone else who gets caught in the darkened room as the lights go on and
“I’ll have custody of the kids whenever you like.”
“No you won’t.”
“Don’t complain then.”
Cathy touches my arm. “I’m sorry, Jake. You’re dead right.”
“Where’s Harry?”
“God knows.”
“He seemed very keen on coming.”
“I think he is looking for alternatives.”
“You’re joking.”
“Things have been very tense between us the last couple of weeks.”
“He said. Something about you fearing being pregnant or something.”
“He told you that?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, well that was part of it. The other part of it is that apparently I am a leper.”
“His parents?”
“Oh, he told you that too, did he?”
“Yeah. Talkative chap.”
“More talkative with you than he is with me. He hardly says a word to me at the moment.”
Something about Cathy’s admission pleased me and it was not because it upset her.
“Jade’s putting on a bit of weight,” she commented casually, watching me carefully.
“Yeah, comes from working in a bakery. Too many pies and things lying around.”
“If you say so.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
Better bite this bullet. “Do you think she is pregnant or something?”
“Either that or she is a diabetic.”
“Not that I know of. Why?”
“Continuously going off to the loo and drinking only water.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Oh well, if she is she is.”
“Would that make you happy?”
“To be honest, two children are quite enough, but if more come along I’ll just have to give up the song writing and step up the estate agency work.”
“Poor you.”
“You’re not kidding.”
“Will you take me home?”
“You had enough?”
“Yeah, I’ve had quite enough.”
“Hang on. I’ll just see how Jade is fixed.”
Jade was keen to stay on for another hour or so but she wasn’t going to leave Cathy and me alone together so she insisted that we wait twenty minutes for her to say goodbye to her mates. On the way back to Cathy’s place off Pickering Park (Priory Grove, which used to be my place too) Cathy and Jade sat in the back and I sat in the front again. They didn’t say much to each other.
I got out with Cathy. “Night,” I said and hesitated before stepping forward and kissing her on the cheek.
She looked at me rather forlornly. “Night, Jake.”
I got back in the taxi next to Jade.
“You two were looking a bit lovey-dovey this evening, weren’t you?” she said.
“You mean I’m still alive?”
Chapter 8
The Mississippi flows
Just not down the Humber or the Ouse tha knows
Suppose that’s just the way it goes
There’s no good place to start
Nothing in this world shines
Like old New York in the movie minds
Of men like me who learned our lines
But never got the part
But give me a 57 Chevy or a Cadillac
And I could hit those dirt roads just like Kerouac
And old Dean Moriarty
As sad as it seems
I’m an English dreamer
With American dreams
I still bring Broadway down
But it’s in backrooms of pubs in cold, grey northern towns
When I shut my eyes sad as it sounds
I can almost hear the screaming
I’ve had to accept it’s true
That I’ll never be Gram nor you Emmylou
Oh I had wings I just never flew
But it never stopped me dreaming
Give me a 57 Chevy or a Cadillac
And I could hit that dirt road just like Kerouac
And old Dean Moriarty
As dumb as it seems
I’m an English dreamer
With American dreams.
Here I am again at The Black Swan Inn in York. Jerry is headlining tonight. Jade is at home feeling sorry for herself. The pregnancy is knocking her out. Jerry’s attention is straying towards which women here this evening may be loose enough to rattle. Not what I need. Jerry has a knack of getting himself into some fine scrapes and dragging everyone else in there with him. He then gets himself out of them again, which cannot always be said for everyone else who gets caught in the darkened room as the lights go on and
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