music of my mind

so I'm a little bit insomniac tonight as sometimes happens, particularly when on my own. I was messing around on instruments and then I remembered something I meant to share with you all.

Most of you remember my two main bands at home and Uni, Wug and Chaulk. I think you're aware that I uploaded the complete oeuvre of Wug to last.fm:

http://www.last.fm/music/WUG?fallback=1

But I remembered too that a couple of years ago or so I uploaded all the finished recordings we made with Chaulk to MySpace. You can find them here:

http://www.myspace.com/chaulktheband

It's a bit 'navel-gazey' I know but I'm really proud of the music we produced and wanted to get it out there to share. Some of you heard us play, and have our CDs but I wanted the chance for people to randomly happen across it too. You never know, one day we might still be famous...

Bit 3.8

I had a bit of a spring in my step after my meeting with Jenny. No it's not because of what you're thinking - i'm not that fickle. But she had an enthusiasm and vivacity which was more contagious than the plague. I'd taken her down to Photography section and within five minutes she had the whole team, men and women alike, eating out of the palm of her hand. And she managed to out-do Rob in the "smutty innuendo" stakes, a feat not achieved in many a year. Coupled with her excellent journalistic reputation, I was beginning to feel quite positive about the future.
Amazingly this carried through into my work, and I managed to go through the accounts in double-quick time. Despite the fact tht my ribs were really beginning to ache, I decided to hand deliver the papers to the financial section.
I was pretty sore by the time I got to the fourth floor, and the corridor which led to the various rooms in which finance hid themselves away, so I decided to have a quick sit in the chair opposite the lift. And with immaculate timing, Mary chose that moment to emerge from the lift.
She looked pretty startled when she saw me. I thought I could detect a bit of redness around her eyes.
"Remi, we must stop meeting like this." Her voice definitely carried a hint of enforced jollity, and sounded like it might crack at any moment.
I smiled and lifted myself - unaided, notice - to my feet. "I was just coming up to give you the quarterlies." I held out the slim folder, and, as she reached forward to take the folder from me I smelt the summer fields full of flowers again. The tips of her fingers brushed against my hand.
"Thanks Remi." And she turned to go.
Sod it. I'm not going to put my life on hold any more.
"Mary?"
She turned to look at me.
"Is that offer of a drink still on tonight?"
And her eyes, previously hinting at sadness, lit up like fireworks against a deep blue night-time sky.
"Well, I was going to head back..."
Oh no, don't let me have ruined this.
"...but if you're sure you want to?"
"I'd love to." That was pathetically eager. But worth it for the smile that just lit up her face. "Shall I come down and fetch you at, say, 5?"
"On the dot."
And, waving goodbye, she disappeared down the corridor.Hmm. I feel quite smug now. Yes indeed, it's a beautiful day alright.
"Remi?"
I turned. Andrew Marlin, God of the IPC Journalism section.
"I've been looking for you. Can you come to my office for a word? I've got something that needs your urgent attention."
It was all going so well.

Bit 3.7

We spent the next hour or so going over old cases, just as an introduction to the Investigative section. She knows her stuff - done a lot of research. I was a bit worried that it was a bit dull, but then she said Harry had got her proof-reading for the foreign affairs section all morning, which made me feel a lot better about my little introduction. We got chatting a little about her background, filling me in a bit more on what she told us at the interview. She'd graduated in Modern Languages (French and Spanish) three years after I did, which made me feel so very very old, before going on to an apprenticeship for one of the major left-wing press organisations in France. She'd worked her way up to a post as an investigative reporter, before being made redundant, after which she headed straight back here, and as any ambitious journo would do, applied for a post with IPC. I hadn't told her, but I'd actually contacted one of my colleagues in France who had worked in the same section as her, and by all accounts, she'd undersold herself in our little talk. Her reputation was formidable in France, and her redundancy had more than a whiff of anglophobia about it. But still, France's loss is our gain.
For my part I gave her a potted history of IPC and our section (although I diplomatically omitted some of Handysides' more wild excesses), and background on Harry, Dan and the others. The fact that she was still sat at my desk and eager as ever I took to be a good sign.
"Of course, it's silly season at the moment, so we've technically got nothing to do." This much is painfully true. By and large we earn our keep (in the losest possible sense) by helping out with the other sections. Harry, my deputy, tends to work on current affairs (which is a pretty good racket as they've got as little to do as we have). Dan the copy editor goes to help out on sportsdesk, and Handysides used to do whatever would allow him to drink himself into a coma every day. Which means that, unless Jenny wants to develop a drink problem, It's going to pretty damn boring for her.
"That's alright. I can keep myself occupied. I was thinking maybe I could help out with the Photo team? I did a bit of that in the last post."
God, let Rob loose on her? He'll ruin her! "You'll be working with Rob Jones, you do realise that?" Only fair to warn the girl.
"I think I can keep him at bay. If he gets too bad, I'll just kick him between the legs."
Yes, I think Miss Williams and I are going to get along like a house on fire.

Bit 3.6

Hmmm. That wasn't hugely comfortable.
I'm doing the right thing though. It just wouldn't be fair to go out with her when I'm so preoccupied with someone else.
But it doesn't make turning her down all the time easier. She hid it well, but I think she was a bit upset. Ah well, never mind, one of the advantages of having my own office if that I can stay locked in here and no-one will bother me much.

That was tempting fate wasn't it? "Come in!"
It's Graeme from finance. That's disappointing - it's normally Mary. She does make budgets seem far more appealing.
"Afternoon Remi. Missed you at the lunchtime brawl." Ah yes, the lunchtime rugby. Graeme started it, which isn't hugely surprising. The man's huge, no-one can take him down without breaking a limb. I know from cruel experience.
Ah well, might as well get the retaliation in before he passes comment. "I trust Rob's filled you in on my stylish new appearance."
He's got a loud laugh. "He said you got run over when drunk." Git. "Said you can't take your ale these days."
"He's talking out of his arse. Anyway, where's Mary? I thought she normally came round with this stuff?"
Eyebrow-raising. That's not a good sign.
"Someone upset her a bit at lunch. She's doing some spreadsheet work instead." They're a tight team, the finance lot. I'm getting the impression that Graeme wants to try drop-kicking this particular someone's head. Best not tell him it was me then.
"Oh well. I'll take a look through these figures this afternoon and get them to you before the end of today."
"Thanks Remi. I'll tell Mary you asked after her." I feel that might not be a great idea.

The office was surprisingly busy considering it was summer. Doesn't anyone take any holidays any more? Needless to say though, none of my team were about, pack of lazy wasters that they are. Actually, no, that's unfair, they're all out helping out in different sections at the moment. I wonder what they found the Temp to do?
"Mr Mistry?"Ah, think of the devil...
"Hello. Jenny, right?"
"Yes sir. Harry said I should come up and introduce myself."
Eager. But this "sir" business just makes me feel old. "Pleased to meet you. And don't bother with this "Mr Mistry, sir" lark. I'm Remi, not your teacher. "
"Technically, you are my teacher."
Smart girl. "I walked into that didn't I?"
Nice smile too. Stop it.
"You did rather. Nice to get to meet you properly at last. I've heard a lot about you. I should point out mostly from Rob Jones in the Photography section."
Oh no. "What did he say?"
"He said that you got drunk of a pint of beer and walked in front of a car." Git. "And what did you think about that?"
"Not wanting to criticise a colleague on my first day, but I think he's a bit full of sh...himself."
I think I'm going to like her.

Bit 3.5

It's a beautiful day. I wish I didn't have to go into work.
The park at this time of year is gorgeous. The grass is like a sprung mattress, it's so comfy.
It's quite funny seeing how it's all divided up though. West side is full of workers from the government offices. South side is full of IPC staff. Between us, I think we manage to scare the tourists off into the other bits.
Glad I took this morning off though. It was hard enough getting dressed, let alone catching the bus. And what with these bandages...I'm boiling. I feel like I'm wearing a corset. I'm not looking forward to standing up.
It's not as if I'm needed desperately - after all, it is the off season. I'll just carry on helping out here and there, making stupid bets on what I can get into the dailies. God knows what I'm going to find for the Temp to do. I suppose I could stick her on sub-ed work, give her a bit of a taste of IPC life. Mind you, Harry or someone's probably set her something to get on with already. Maybe I can just bunker down in my room and avoid as many people as possible. I don't particularly want to be stared at. Though a few sympathy hugs from some of the ladies wouldn't go amiss.
Oh. Talking of the ladies, here comes one of them now.
"Hey Mary! On your way back from lunch?"
She really is pretty nice, you know.
"So this is where you've been all morning then?" And funny too. "Some of us have been worried about you, especially given some of the stories Rob's been spreading around."
"What's he been saying then?" Normally I don't go in much for short hair on girls - I kind of go for the long, flowing red hair. But Mary's got just the right shape face to carry it off. And it's really catching the light today.
"I'll tell you on the way back to the office. You coming?"
I'm hardly going to say no to an offer like that. Only problem is...
"Do you want a hand up off the grass?" She leans in closer to whisper, and I can smell her scent. It's kind of like summer fields full of flowers. "I promise I won't tell anyone you needed help standing up!"
And she winks, one her deep blue eyes momentarily obscured. Yes, she really is pretty foxy.
"Very kind of you." She's slipped her arm in mine now. Interesting how casually she did that.
"By the way..." Oh, here we go again.
"...I was planning on going out for a drink after work tonight..."
I can't keep turning her down, it's cruel. And a bit stupid of me, looking at her today.
"...and, well, I was wondering if you're free?..."
Maybe I should just say yes. You never know.
"...I mean, I know you're probably on medication and can't drink..."
What have I got from my infatuation with Kate? Stitches, broken ribs, and depression.
"...but we can always just sit in the park with a can of something..."
Maybe it's time I moved on.
"...after all, it's supposed to be a lovely evening."
Got over Kate.
"Thanks Mary. I'd probably best not, though. Need to rest up a lot."
You absolute fool.

Bit 3.4

"You were avoiding her weren't you?"
Agh! Never sit up so rapidly after you've had your head kicked in, it hurts. "D, I wish you'd give me some warning that you're coming in."
"I knocked. You were on planet Kate."
Planet Kate. Mmm. Now that's something I would give a kidney to see.
"Yes, I was. Satisfied?" Oh oh. "You know what, I'm sick of being judged by you and Rob! I can't help it alright? You think I'd still be chasing her wildly if I had any choice in the matter?! It's bad enough I have to sit here and watch them - watch him - where I should be! Do you think I like not being able to see my friends, not being able to relax in my own place? Do you think if I'd had a FRACTION of a choice I woud have gone to that bar tonight? So if you've got nothing else to add, just sod off and leave me alone."
Silence. Perhaps I overstepped the mark a little.
"Finished?"
Oh great. Now the guilt.
"I'm sorry D. You didn't deserve that."
Oh this is embarrassing.
Do not cry.
DO NOT CRY!
Damn.
"Hey Remy, come on mate." Dmitri's hugging me. I'm so pathetically grateful for this show of compasion, the momentousness of this occasion is bypassing me. Dmitri, Mr Calm and Reserved letting a bit of compassion seep out. Don't get me wrong, Mitya's a fantastic person, and I don't doubt he loves us all very much. But the man makes a Finnish Formula 1 driver look animated.
Mind you, you've got to be reserved if you're going to do what he does. You can't get emotional.
And suddenly I'm getting away from thoughts of Kate and thank God the tears are stopping.
And now it's awkward.
"Thanks"
"If you mention I did that to Rob I will make the left side of your face look like the right side."
I can tell that's not an idle threat.
"Serious for a moment though Rem," I thought we were being serious? "Rob told me what happened."
I bet he did. "I deny everything."
"I happen to think I've known Rob for quite long enough to tell when he's making stuff up and not. Rem, you've got to learn to fight back."
No.
"No."
I will not fight back. "You know my feelings on that."
Right, here's the thing. I don't go in for violence. Not in a "holier-than-thou, shall-not-strike-my-brother" thing, no, something far more powerful than that. My own belief. There's no need for it. Growing up when I did, amidst the race riots that have pretty much been forgotten about now, you learnt to keep your head down and run from trouble. But even doing that, you knew that trouble would one day find you, and when it did, the path of least resistance was always the least painful. Not fighting back meant you had a higher-than-outside chance of surviving.
"Remi, there's a difference between aggression and simple self-defence."
D's right of course. It would make sense to defend myself in a situation like tonight. But if I give in once, what's to stop me giving in again? It'll be like opening the flood gates.
Rob's appeared in the doorway now. "You're not exactly a small guy, you keep yourself in shape. You could have fought off that bloke tonight, no trouble."
None of them understand.
My Dad was beaten to death in front of me when I was nine. My older brother was crippled in front of me when I was 10. If I start fighting, I'm aligning myself with the people who destroyed my family. And, as I say, if I start fighting, I'm not sure I'll be able to stop.
"Let's just drop this conversation now, OK?"
D's disappointed, I can see that. I know he's only worried. It's what makes him a good man.
"Have Kate and Mike gone?"
Rob's chuckling again. "You're safe mate. They've gone to the pub."
"Right. Get me to hospital. I hurt and I think I'm going to pass out again."

Bit 3.3

Of course, being the actual house owner I got first choice of the rooms. So clever me chose the one right at the top, not actually thinking about what might happen if one day I got a good kicking from an Icelandic Sailor and had to struggle up the stairs on my own. I should get a lift fitted. Maybe I'll stick it through Kate's room, then claim it was a mistake by the builders and suggest she shares with me for a while. OK, that's extremely unlikely. She'd probably move in with good ol' Dr Mike instead.I should stop being so harsh to him. I mean, he's a good guy. He's friendly, he looks after people, he's managed to sort me out OK. And much as it pains me to say it, he treats Kate well, and that's the most important thing. I can't imagine what it'd be like if she was going out with a toerag like Rob. But then she wouldn't go out with Rob because he's her brother and that'd be so very wrong. Being rejected for a Doctor I can handle. For her brother? Hmmm...I think those painkillers I took made my head a bit wrong.This room has it's advantages though. I mean, stretched out on my bed here, if I lean my head right back, I can see up at the sky. It's quite a clear night tonight. Lots of stars. I really need to sort my head out. I nearly got us killed tonight because of a stupid crush. It's not a crush though. I really do love her. I can't bear to not be around her.It's not as if I'm stuck for people who like me though. I do quite well. Mary from accounts has asked me out twice in the past month, and my lame excuses aren't cutting the ice. I swear she thinks I'm gay and repressing. There's nothing wrong with her. In fact far from it, she's pretty damn gorgeous and funny.But she's not Kate. No-one's Kate. I remember when I first met her. It was like someone hit me in the face with a feather pillow. Her long red hair, with waves and undulations like the sea, her eyes...her beautiful eyes which shift in colour - sometimes they're deep brown, but sometimes they change and there's a greeny-grey hint to them. And they're so expressive, conveying os much love to her family. Her friends. Her lover. And her skin. Oh, her pale, soft skin, utterly perfect and flawless. And then she opened her perfectly shaped mouth and I fell in love with her that little bit more. Maybe it's the fact she spent most of our first meeting following her brother's lead and mercilessly tearing shreds off me - I'm a glutton for punishment, I really am - or maybe it's the fact that I succeeded in arguing with her for about four hours on the respective merits and innovations of Duke Ellington and Miles Davis. Or the fact that every minute I spent with her I wanted to last aeons, but instead seemed all too brief.Every time I met her after that I desperately tried to analyse our meetings for possibilities that she might like me even a fraction as much as I liked her. Maybe that accidental brush of my arm in the nightclub was out of a repressed desire to touch me. Maybe when she talked of how much she loved the work of Shostakovich and would love to go to a concert with me - maybe that was indicative of a desire to spend time with just me, and I ruined it by inviting our friends. Even now when she's so very annoyed with me - maybe she's acting annoyed to cover up the fact she's worried, rather than being angry for me ruining her night with Mike. It's getting to the stage where it's affecting our friendship. I thought having her to live with us would make things better. I'd grow used to her, maybe get irritated with her bad habits. But no, she has none. She's utterly ideal for me. And because of that I'm growing further apart from her. I can't spend time around her and Mike - every second it feels like someone twists a knife into my heart. And I can't spend much time alone with her because I can barely look her in the face. Two weeks ago we all went out clubbing. We were having a good laugh, and then Rob started up with his jokes about me becoming a monk because I'd been single for so long. And Kate...she was drunk, tried to hug me and said that she loved me even if no-one else did. And I shoved her away. I actually pushed her away. Me, Mr non-violent shoved the woman I love away from me, and ran off. Like a twelve year old. I hate myself.I've not been out with anyone for three years now. I just can't. It's not right. I know now, better than ever, that she's not interested, that I am just another, better-loooking brother to her. She's been with Mike over a year now. She must be thinking of it as something serious. I'm not sure I could cope if she married him.I've often thought I should just go. Go somewhere. Anywhere. I've had my chances. The others would cope without me. As long as I've got rent coming in form the others I'm fairly independant financially. I got a pretty good job offer last year from Quebec. I could have taken that. I should have taken that. A few years away would fix me up. Everyone here would forget about me, that wouldn't be a problem. Kate would marry Mike, I'd get an invite and not appear, and that would be it. And maybe, given time, I'd forget about Kate. Find a nice Canadian girl. Politely decline any offers of visits from here until I'm no more than a vague memory, an occasional Christmas card.It'll never happen. I can never leave. I'm going to chase her around like a lost puppy, no matter how many times I get kicked. You never know though, maybe one night it'll go like it did tonight, but they'll do a better job and actually finish me off. Or kick some sense into me. Then I'll be able to stop pretending that I'm not avoiding her.