038 :: Music to play memories to

A pot of water was boiling in the kitchen. Naomi stood next to it. Peter tidied up the coffee table. Diane came up the stairs.

Hi. I need a glass of wine. Peter can you. And one for you. Does Naomi drink. (Diane)

Peter pointed at Naomi’s Skroll. She opened it. Read the translation. Shrugged. Nodded. Peter took a bottle of white wine from the fridge. He held it up to Diane. She nodded. She watched him. Her eyes drifted down to his arse. Pert. Framed by his apron. She might have been thinking about fucking. She might have been distracted by his wiggle. She might have been thinking about a business deal. Her expression was closed. She seemed surprised when Naomi replied after a long silence.

Yes thank you. Peter teach English. (Naomi)

Oh. Come sit here with me. (Diane)

Naomi sat opposite Diane. Peter placed two glasses of wine on the table. He brought the bottle across. Placed it in front of Diane. Diane raised her glass. Peter held his aloft. Naomi copied them.

Welcome again Naomi. I hope you are finding your feet. (Diane)

Diane gulped her wine. She topped it up. Peter sipped his, He returned to the kitchen and dropped the pasta into the boiling water. Naomi read Diane’s words on her Skroll.

Thank you. (Naomi)

So. Do you have any music on that Skroll. (Diane)

No. (Naomi)

I can give you my back catalogue. It is no big deal. Everyone needs some music. (Diane)

Thank you. (Naomi)

Diane tapped her Skroll. A new icon appeared on Naomi’s Skroll. Accept Gift. Peter put down three bowls of pasta on the table.

Thank you Peter. (Diane)

Before you sit can you get Naomi an apron for eating. (Diane)

Peter got the apron. Naomi stood to put it on. They ate. Naomi watched Diane. Diane scrolled on her Skroll. Diane poured another glass of wine.

Music when the lights go out. It was so different when I was young. It was before independence. Of course. That song was a dalliance of Frank’s. Or should I say frank was a dalliance of mine. Always knew his politics was on the losing side but his beliefs were so certain It was a while back. Brexit. Ever heard of it. It was the start of things as they are now. They would never have guessed. When I saw Frank a few days after the vote he said with such sadness that he could not believe it. Such sadness. Everything was wrong about it. Populist politics. It was not about economics. It was not about beliefs. I remember Frank asking how everyone could not see it was wrong. That we have to keep working to build a better world not work at building walls. Oh well. I am butchering his memory. (Diane)

They ate in silence.

Sorry. Frankie was just a sweet sweet boy. And it was a cruel cruel world like the song says. I was reminded about him by one of the songs on the list I just gave you Naomi. I was young. Twenty. At art school with Frankie. We drank wine and discussed the end of the world. XR. Now that was his real passion. I went on a few marches with him. Nothing much. Last I heard he went up North. That would be more his scene. He never really did anything with his art. I guess I did not either. (Diane)

They ate in silence. Diane examined her Skroll.

He is in Bristol. He looks settled now. Here is to Frankie. (Diane)

Diane drained her glass. Topped it up again.

Sorry. It is your fist week. I should not be so moribund. Lets find something uplifting. Shows. List favourites. (Diane)

A screen appeared above the fireplace. Like the other screens in the house it was hidden unless on.

Play seven. (Diane)

Barneby 24. His channel. His news. His outrageous behaviour. Diane watched ironically. Commenting with enthusiasm. Peter watched it with a smile. He enjoyed it. Naomi stared blankly. Without subtitles it was nothing more than shapes colours noise music. When she finished eating she put the bowl on the coffee table. Lay back on the sofa. Fell asleep. Peter woke her when Diane had left. When the cleaning was done. He took her apron. He led her to their room.