Chapter Seven

Richie stared at the sheet of paper in front of him. He’d been staring at it for the best part of an hour. It was still blank. He’d already written he music for it and couldn’t understand why the lyrics just weren’t flooding out. He usually found it so much easier to express his feelings through his music rather than verbally and he usually had no problem getting them firstly onto paper before enmeshing them with his music to create songs that expressed themselves with a deeper understanding into his psyche every time you heard them, but now? Zip, nada, nothing.

He wondered whether it had something to do with the fact that his divorce had just come through and he was, once again, a single man. He wondered whether his divorce had happened because he was unable express himself verbally. Shrugging he hummed the simple yet haunting melody to himself as his hand poised, wordlessly, over the pristine paper.

‘Coffee, that’ll help.’ he thought turning to look at the pot that sat on it’s own warming plate. It was empty. Erin hadn’t replaced it. He looked at the clock. She’d last been up with fresh coffee over two hours ago.

Frowning at having to interrupt his emotional thought process, he reached for the pot and made his way downstairs. He only used the elevator when he was carrying his tray of food. He’d found out the hard way that carrying a tray laden with food and coffee up two flights of stairs was synonymous with an accident waiting to happen.

He entered the kitchen to find it empty. He looked around wondering where she was. He knew she wasn’t in the lounge as he’s poked his head in on the way down.

He felt a slight warm breeze caress his skin and realised she was probably out in the garden. He made his way over to the fridge and walked down the corridor to the right of it. He passed by the utilities room and walked out the back door into the large garden. Being England the sun was shining but the temperature wasn’t scorchingly hot. He spotted Erin kneeling down by a clump of what he assumed to be weeds.

Erin turned as a shadow passed over her face to see a pair of feet. She look upwards to see Richie looking at her.

“Oh shit. Coffee. I’m so sorry I lost track of time. These weeds are all over the place and I guess I just lost in the job.”

Richie looked at her reddened eyes and thought she’d been doing a lot more than just weeding. He wondered why she’d been crying but didn’t want to push it. Instead he sat down cross legged on the grass and stretched.

“It’s ok, I’m completely stuck with work at the moment so I guess getting out in some fresh air ain’t exactly gonna kill me ya know?”

Erin smiled and went to put her trowel down.

“Oh, it’s ok, carry on with whatever it is you’re doing.” he asked, intrigued as to why someone would willingly put their hands in dirt just to pull up a few green things.

Erin turned back to the space she’d begun to clear of weeds. Gardening soothed her. It helped her forget her problems and soothed the savage beast that beat in her breast. Michael had always made sure she scrubbed her hands after gardening as he didn’t want people to think he was living with a scruffy person. He’d even bought her some top of the rang gardening gloves but she preferred to feel the earth directly.

Richie just sat and watched as she worked. He could see her nimble fingers working through the big clods of earth, breaking it up, enabling her to remove the weeds without leaving any of the roots behind.

Deftly she threw the weeds into a pile and lovingly tended to the flowers and shrubs.

Richie stretched out onto his side and smiled. He’d never met a woman before who loved getting covered in dirt. Every one he’d ever met, on a non fan basis, would run a mile before pulling a weed from a garden that wasn’t even hers.

Erin sat back on her haunches and sighed. She’d been out in the garden for over three hours and her back was beginning to ache, however the borders were looking so much better. She reached around for her bottle of water and took a long drink.

“Does that feel better?”

She jumped, having forgotten he was there, and water dribbled down her chin and soaked her tee shirt, which was already wringing with sweat.

“I’d forgotten you were there. I get so in the zone when I’m doing this, a nuclear bomb could go off and I wouldn’t notice.2 she said, wiping her forehead.

“Hmm, I bet you would.” he grinned. She had a smudge on her cheek and another on her forehead and her hair was in a messy ponytail which all combined to make her look adorable.

“Yeah, eventually I guess.” she laughed, “when the flowers all died from the radiation fallout.” She sat down onto the grass and stretched her legs out, feeling the sore muscles protesting.
“Have you been interested in gardening long?” he asked, not at all worried about getting back to his blank paper.

“Not really, I used to have a back garden and developed a love of it after I moved in and found a jungle. It took me six months to clear it all. Michael would just sit indoors and watch me. After I’d cleared it all I realised that I love gardening, but then, when we split I lost the garden.” She smiled but Richie noticed the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

They sat together in the garden companionably. As Erin got up to go make some coffee, Richie vowed he was going to find out what was making her cry. If he couldn’t compose he’d start prying instead. With that thought in mind, he smiled, closed his eyes and lay back on the grass, enjoying the sunshine.