Into the Unknown #FollowtheFairy London Part 2 Finding the NEW Flat

When I arrived at The York , my favorite London pub, straight from the airport and the States  this summer I had no idea at all what to expect from this trip. I hadnt  been  to london 5 years, since it all went so terriby wrong and so I hadn’t seen  or even spoken to my friend Simon in almost six!

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And  only  by email. Several thousand really pissed off ones from me  lol, and the occassional  apologetic one from him.

And only in the last year or so…

He had disappeared off the face of the planet in 2010, with no warning or explination, when they  tore down the old flats and he just upped and moved away, leaving no new phone number or even  a forwarding address. And without a Goodbye

He called me, for what he knew damn well for god knows how long  was going to be the last time and he said ” im moving house this week, i will give you a call with all my new information as soon as i get settled in.”

It was a good six months before i really began to truly  comprehend that  NO ONE is THAT BUSY, and that the promised call was never going to come.

It felt more like murder than me mate merely moved from one house to another five minutes away . While it appears  he had successfully managed to fake his own death (from 2010 to 2015 ) just to escape me , fairly painlessly, it had been more like my own slow motion  drive-by  execution all those years sad and suffering over here in the USA for me.

But a scant five years,  seven months and 8 days and 49 minutes later, he must have finally gotten his jammies unpacked, so at the start of  2015  I got a package and a letter.

And now,  here i am. In  london. To see Simon. Once again.

Which, as i write this, I realize may sound like a completly insane thing to do

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What can i say? We fairies are known for our flights of fancy!

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For over five years i never knew if he were alive or dead, and the whole time i was so  confused and upset. My heart was broken, I had lost my best friend in the world   and i had absolutly no warning or explaination. He just Disappeared.   With every passing month, in spite all my  best efforts and email letters , i never heard back from him and it was becoming  unbearably obvious  that i would never know WHY

i was desperatly  worried  about him,  what had possesed him  to do such a terribly , cold callous and cruel thing  to ME , his “very best friend” or what  may have happened to him, or might be happening to him now or in the future!

 

Because i knew if  anything ever happened to him or if , God forbid, we never spoke again   i  would  never  be able to forgive myself

And forever regret never having  just one chance to see him , if only  one more time again. In order to finally have the opportunity to kill him my own damn self , in an unmercifull, exceedingly painful,  henious and hideous , prolonged, agonizing  and torturous fashion , the selfish  miserable  old  bastard! LMAO

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And yet, somehow..

i still cant help but wonder…

WHY?

WHY, OH WHY?  would he leave me?

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.

 

And Now.. here i am, and there he is! looking and being all simon-ey again,

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Simon Darling

and me, just looking all the worse  for the wear and tear and feeling ten years closer to the grave, instead of just five, thanks to him.

Have I called him a  bad name lately? lol

Dont worry, im certain to do it again ..

and often!

We are planning to spend almost a month together once more time, just like the old days, when i was living  there  3-6 weeks at a time, three or four times a year for a lot of years.

 

 

Like a couple of  hopped -up  maze- enraged  research rats in a cage match for freedom, just the two of us, trapped in in his ( SHUDDER ) fancy-schmancy new flat.

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I loved the old flat so much , i cried for five days as if i had just attended the funeral of a  dear old friend,  when i  had to leave the last time, knowing i would never see it again.

I didnt know , but that rat bastard Simon did ,  for who knows how long, that if he had his way I would never be seeing him again either.

See?  Told you that you wouldnt have to wait long lol

From the very first moment i saw it i fell in love with  his place. It and London became my second home. Unfortunatly for me, it was a package deal LOL. There wasnt a Simon’s house without my  Simon in it, and London just wasnt London anymore without him.

So i quit travelling  for a while and  to my great shock I became a writer .

I was always a Fairy

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Sherry Carroll on Amazon

BUT there i was… in london again lol

Because i do adore him  and always have and always will, so….

“GIVE ME LIBERTY or give me CHEESE!

And Let the GAMES BEGIN…  May the odds be ever in our favor

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” And s long as your up getting cheese Si, can you bring  more chips.. and the rest of that good dip, and a bottle of  some of that”two for a fiver”  merlot…  and i want it in A REAL GLASS not  in a measuring cup or  a jelly jar  or  a thimble or something… okay, OKAY FFS, dont get yer knickers in a twist, i  told you I wont dump it all over the futon THIS TIME…  Can you scratch my back? its really itchy, no..left, over over,over THERE THATS IT, thanks…Do you have any socks? i forgot to pack any. My feeties are FREEZING …Hey quit  hogging  the blanky,  I hate it when you always do that,  you know  it drives  me crazy..   HA HA  thats hilarious, but dont you worry your pretty little head  about how little gas that will take, Funny Boy, with the way we are scarfin down that cheese i’m sure there will be  more than enough to go around … NO, cmon nooooo  I DONT WANNA MOVE OVER..I JUST GOT COMFY! ..  oh Shush you Big Baby ! PuLeeezZ Give it a rest , you have plenty of room down there on your end,  im practiclly falling off the end of  my side as it is.. quit pushin, now YER  squishing ME  i’m moving , i’m moving  what the hell?Now where are my glasses… So.. Anything  good tonight on the telly?”

“And DONT SAY a penguin or i swear to god i will smack you right into next sunday.”

Simon’s House 
I miss vivid pink, rich purple, deep fuchsia and pale rose sunrises
slowly moving across turquoise walls to the sound of quiet morning guitar music.
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And Simon describing them to me on the phone, when I was in  America and couldn’t be there to see them

While he brushed his teeth

The grey skies and rooftops of London just the other side of the big

window and the sun through the hanging prisms Dempsy
gave us,making spinning , dancing rainbows all over.
A hint of incense (and magic) in the air
Tiny, beautiful bottles of essential oils

in the icebox.

Lavender, goldenrod, patchouli.
Almond, cinnamon, geranium, gardenia
Good friends. Everywhere. All hours of the day and  night .
 Always dropping by for us to cook them something, together.
 Or to make conversation and music
Or just for a cup of tea.
The never ending sound of relentless re-building and new construction, jack hammers and cranes and shouty builders and  occassional scary drills and crashes
before they tore it all down and it was gone.
The old tall boy, the one piece of REAL furniture in the whole place,
where he kept anything and everything of any value

or importance.

I wonder where he put it in the new flat? And if anything of mine is still in it.
and if it is not, where did it all go?
and , more importantly , WHY?
The scary hallway, was ever ready to catch you by  the ankles
and trip you up
if you ventured out in the dark by yourself in the
middle of the night
to get to the toilet ( not the baaathroom)
Is the new bathtub as nice as the old one?
That would be impossible.

 I loved that tub.

Spaghetti in the bath with a glass of merlot
He’s bound to miss that.
No matter how good the new one is.
I guess I will never know.
No more cheerfully waving hello at the kitchen people who silently watched  me through the window from across the estate.
And, I imagined,  patiently waited for me there for months, until i came back.
And came home
I wonder where they live now too. And if  maybe, at least they miss me.
The furry zebra…couch? Or whatever that thing was supposed to be!

 Just cover it up with enough big pillows and it will kinda sorta

pass for one.
Maybe.
The big clay ashtray was perpetually on the floor  underfoot, so it was always extremely
convenient for me to trip over  so i could  kick  the whole mess  across the floor every single time I stood up
Even though it worked hard, it  always had a day off on Thursdays
There was an awful lot of Thursdays at Simon House
And about a thousand real vinyl records lined the walls
and almost as many stacks of old cassettes tapes he made of radio shows . Not a single cd.
Stacks of music magazines everywhere. some going back thirty years.
Dial -up. for gods sake. DIAL-UP! I didn’t even know you could still get that anymore
 Even if you wanted to!
I guess he doesn’t have it anymore. It was all he had ever known! We learned to use a computer together that way. Him here, Me there.
Like Dinosaurs trying to invent fire
He must have been so surprised when he got wireless! You know, the one that actually works. ALL THE TIME , in nano seconds.  Instead of hours
I wish i could have seen his face!
ButI guess it was time to upgrade. Everything.  You know what they say
“Out with the old…”
Simons old house, was kinda messy , sort of disorganized, frankly, kind of a wreck.
 Basic but messy ,somehow really comfy,  warm and friendly, very home-y, I thought it was very nice. I thought we were a good match. I loved it so.
And i thought I would always be welcome in Simons house
Because Simon has always had trouble getting rid of anything he really likes
or truly cares about
At least that’s what I used to think.
 I guess I was wrong.

  Eveything through his eyes wasso  perfect and  possible, nothing too strange to admire and  experience, as he wandered the city streets and through his own life .

Anything , no matter how  odd or eccentric ( like us) could happen .
And when  someone  or something did, he would save it away , add it to his collection and it seemed he would have always  loved it forever.
Daffy duck glared psychotically at me off the wall out of the crazy kaleidoscope poster
And Jimi , always so cool, sucking that cigarette smiling through the smoke .
Concert posters and pictures of family and friends and gig ticket stubs and postcards and Chinese fortune cookie fortunes and pretty take away menus, glossy adverts for events long past, or he knew he would never go to.
Tiny pieces of  paper everywhere with phone numbers of good friends or strangers he struck up a chat with on  the Tube
Cartoons cut from magazines and articles from the newspapers stuck all around the walls
Most of them so old they were curling and so yellowed, they could barely be read .
  So damaged. So well worn  but cared for . Almost falling to pieces.
They must have disintegrated into dust in his hand  when he moved on.
He didn’t leave any of that behind.
Just me.
 I never really got the hang of using the hot water kitchen tap without the entire thing coming off in my hand
It took me eight years to work out how to switch on the boiler, work the outlets, figure out which light switch did what ? How to wiggle the telly antenna, use the remotes.
I had just started to feel like I was getting the hang of it.
I bet everything works just fine  and dandy in Simons life .
Everythings finally perfect.
Without me.
In the new flat. I’m sure its so much better.
I miss the magpies imitating the car alarms
And the distant church bells. And the doves.
Looking for red foxes every night when we came home”‘ just in case”
Even the sound of the telephone, even though it was constantly ringing.
I dont  even know what his phone number is now.
To say “I’m sorry too. Thank you and Good bye.”
Without fail, every  Saturday morning, right at 7, the Spanish
radio station would start playing full blast from a few flats below
 But it was okay
because we were never ready for bed yet.
Accompanied of course, by a full volume family sing along while they ran the Hoover for hours and hours!
 What the hell were they getting all over their floor?
Every single week?
Your guess is as good as mine.
I am not sure I really wanna know!
SCARY!

Almost as scary as that weird  little kid who used to howl like a banshee every day in the

park below our  big window and her mother screaching  back down at
 her from the 5th floor.
I bet he doesn’t miss them! He doesnt even miss me. I guess
I really miss the cheerful invisible leprechaun living on the

floor above  most of all

 Who was apparently studying tap dancing, occasionally accompanied by several dozen friends  in the early morning hours
Only stopping to drive a few nails or dribble a basketball once and a while.
I quite liked lying still at sunrise and listening to his tiny little toenails on the linoleu
But mostly, I miss Simon. every single day
I even miss the sound of the rattle-y bedroom door kept semi-silent with the assistance  of a folded bit of old cardboard  jammed  in place ,that seemed to breathe in and out with the  breeze.
I guess he doesnt have to stuff an old pair of jeans under the door in the cold weather anymore. In Simons NEW house,  and in  his new life , without me in it.
  One thing i certainly will not miss is that horrible loud constantly yapping dog that luckily for us lived way  down at the other end of the corridor,  but it still  barked  all night and all day   and  it almost  drove the poor guy crazy.
He never got a moments peace once they moved in , and he couldnt wait to be rid of it, and them, when they knocked  down the old place.
I wonder where they went? With that intolerable, obnoxious, ill tempered , ill bred mutt?
I hope it was in the flat right next door to Simon
In his new  house.
Wherever that may be.
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Well, I guess  NOW i’m finally about to find out ..   Coming soon: Part Three
Rock the Boat, Dont rock the Boat Baby

 

 

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