I am thirty eight years old, I live by myself and while I dont entirely lack for company I have no friends of more than four years standing. I prefer to spend most of my time (particularly the weekends) alone with my memory, for that is where my true friends are.
Four years ago, I was a key witness in the trial of a Wiltshire death ring, seven men were given life but in the process my own existence became threatened. Threatening messages on my pager, pig blood in my milk; told me that I'd been marked by the gang, and when I awoke one morning to find a skinned swan in the toilet I applied for Police protection. They obliged, but advised me to move from Blackburn to Kilban, they also said that I would not be safe unless everyone I knew believed I was dead, so with their help I dissapeared and headed south.
Everything about me had to change, including my name, (you may just of heard of me in my previous incarnation, between you and me but not for open discussion I used to be called "Cholace Ketteredge" and I used to run hot biscuits off to the record shop off Caulder Street.) I also took the precaution of altering my face, so that I would be completely unrecognisable even to my family, alas, they and my true friends along with my wife Alice could only exist for me in my mind and heart.
The first few weeks in London where interesting as a sort of challenge but to be honest the longer I spent in my new environment the less I desired to meet new people, they're alright but the bonds you make after thirty are so superficial frankly. It was Alice I missed most, I thought about her everyday at least fifty times for three and a half years and by this January I could feel my wits begginning to end.
Then, just six weeks ago something happened that split my brain end to end, it was a Sunday and I was purchasing some fittings in an all week furniture store when, there, arranging the display in the mink tone bedrooms I saw Alice, I knew it was her at once, every curve, every gesture, I just stood and gawped, no words, just a huge tennis ball in my throat. She saw me, a staring stranger and looked away embarressed. I ran out, but two hours later I was back, I wandered about for four hours showing immense interest in triple futons and portable alcoves, all the time keeping her in the corner of my eye, wondering a thousand ghastly wonders.
What was she doing there? How could I talk to her? Would she recognise me? Could she love me again?
God I wanted that. For a week I returned everyday, making enough purchases to avoid suspicion, at the same time lurking and peeping as much as I could. She'd noticed me again and smiled. Had she looked slightly too long?
Christ's fat cock how I ached. By Wednesday I had gathered that she was still unnattatched but had three suitors that would contrive to visit her during the day, making her laugh and blush with their vacuus flirting. How men become ridiculous at the hands of bad lust. One of them, the stupidest but most forward asked her out, I seethed from behind a rather unpleasant shelf.
I wanted to shout "Alice, I love you, help me!"
But of course I couldnt, so I scrawled it on the back of an oddbins receipt and stuffed it deep into my pocket. I was being eaten up. By Thursday, she was playing them off against each other, she said she would "go to the Lakes for the weekend with whoever could guess the whereabouts of her birthmark." I knew she was just amusing herself, trying to forget about me, but still I felt the foreboding in my gut when she said that. But I also knew she'd given me my chance, no one could know about the small violet disc in the warm pink of her mouth, but I knew.
The answer had to be written down in an envelope, they would be opened on a Friday lunchtime in the Park outside the store. All morning I loitered in the grass, bursting with fear, maintaining an outward saunter, wishing I smoked, muttering at squirrels until at last, the improbable foursome emerged, excited and chattering.
I watched with glowing glee as first one, then two and finally three faces failed, despite their smiles, fully to disguise their dissapointment. Alice laughed and tossed her hair, this was my moment, I ran forward, thrust my envelope into her hand and said "please open it! Please trust me! You must open it!"
They laughed, they pretended to take me seriously, Alice slipped her finger under the flap and pulled out my note. She read it and read it again, she looked at me aghast, she looked at her suitors who were now no longer smiling, searching for some clue.
"But who?"
"Cholace!" I said, "Cholace Ketteredge and I love you, I am not dead, I had to run away but I dont care if they kill me now, I want you back."
After an aching pause a tear rolled down her cheek. "Chollace" she whispered, and leaned forward to kiss me. I shut my eyes, but never felt her lips because at that moment she was transfixed by a spear of frozen liquid waste from an aeroplane toilet facility.
I will never forget her face as she lay, pinned to the turf. A look of stunned incomprehension tempered still with a slight sensual anticipation is pop rivetted to the scarred bonet of my memory.
But you would bring back happier memories if you voted for Ultimate Warrior in the 6th annual Wrestlezone Tournament.
