Week 25 - Rocket Man

During the first week in November I saw more and more of Heather. She had this knack of appearing every time I During the first week in November I saw more and more of Heather. She had this knack of appearing every time I was feeling down which was quite a lot lately. Heather's mum had not been well and this was the reason Heather gave for deciding to remain in England. I hadn't realised how ill her mum actually was and perhaps I had been too engrossed in my own problems to actually be listening to what Heather was saying. Heather always had a smile and hug for me and I loved to just look down into her brown eyes. For some reason, I was keeping this new special friend away from my family. It wasn't that I didn't want them to know that I was moving on from Becky; but I was happy to keep Heather just for me. Mind you the picture of us kissing that appeared in the Sunday paper did not help to keep the secret. For some reason my parents decided never to ask questions about Heather. Mind you I never asked questions about me and Heather either. It just felt really natural when we were together. I also decided not to tell Heather about Nan's Will and the fact that marrying Becky could make me one hundred thousand pounds.

Walsall Council Leisure Department invited me back in for a chat on the morning of Bonfire Night. I had left Heather asleep naked in my bed after we had both drunk too much wine last night to be able to drive Heather back. I liked having Heather in my bed, especially naked, but apart from often stroking each other nothing ever happened. I had thought about this quite a bit and was unsure if I felt I was being unfaithful to Becky or was just waiting too long for Heather to give me a sign. The dilemma was that I didn't want to get it wrong and ruin the only real friend I had left at the moment. Perhaps after being so badly let down by both Pete and Becky I was deliberately holding back from Heather. The problem was I had no idea how Heather felt about me and now her mum was very ill; it just didn't seem the right time. It would be really insensitive to make a move when she was just wanting a friend. Then there was her 'former' lover Jean Pierre. In all the films French men are great lovers. How was Jon an English Stadler going to compare?

Sitting opposite Tracey from Human Resources I just couldn't read her face to see what my fate was going to be. She tried to be comforting and put on a caring voice but avoided all eye contact. I tried to help by smiling at her to help the many uncomfortable moments. But this probably just made me look more like a madman. Tracey seemed to have quite a large folder on me that included some of my clippings from the newspaper. She repeatedly said that I had the full support of Walsall Council. Was she about to end my suspension?  I really couldn't tell, but decided that this was all too difficult to deal with.  Making probably another bad decision in my life, I decided that I didn't want to return to work and have to answer lots of questions about my private life - especially from 'bluenoses' in wheelchairs. I surprised Tracey by standing up, shaking her hand, offering my resignation and walking out of Walsall Council Leisure department for good. I could see the relief in her face and for once I just felt like not being the usual responsible Jon. For the first time in my life, I was going to be unemployed and really didn't care. I wasn't responsible to anybody and wouldn't even have to tell my mum for a few weeks.

As I walked back to my car I took my Walsall Council Identity Card and threw it high into the air and watched as it landed in a garden behind the Council car park. I was free from the most mundane job I had ever had. I could just go home now and maybe ravish Heather in my bed. Why should Pete be the only one who is allowed to be irresponsible with his life and bonk anyone he wants to? Just then Tracey from Human Resources came racing after me. Maybe she was going to declare her undying love for me?  No, she just wanted to ask for my Walsall Council Identity Card back. So a few minutes later I was knocking on the door to house number 272 to ask them if I could have my Identity Card back from in their garden. The old man who answered the door just looked at me as if I was mad before slamming the door in my face and mumbling "bloody council".

On my way home I stopped to buy a box of fireworks so things with me and Heather really could go with a bang. I was rather surprised at how expensive fireworks had become and even ended up paying twenty pounds for a rocket. It did promise to create an explosion of colour in the sky. It was a rather large rocket that only just fitted inside my sporty car. I was also concerned that it said “please stand fifty feet away after lighting”. I wasn't quite sure where I was going to light it but kept thinking how much Nan would have loved it. I also thought how normally I could delegate the job of lighting it to Pete. Why had he ruined our friendship?

Back at home I was pleased to see that the small figure of Heather was still asleep in my bed. I decided, after putting the rather large rocket and other fireworks in the wardrobe, to just strip off and get back into bed. I suppose now I was unemployed I would have to get used to this. Even though she was in a deep sleep, Heather had a radiant smile and wrapped herself around me. She seemed so special and I decided that I was going to admit my feelings for her under a very expensive firework tonight. The smell of Heather was becoming one of my favourite smells. Even when she wasn't wearing her expensive sounding French perfume she had a natural smell that seemed so homely. How had I got to this place? My married life with Becky had been so planned but now three months later I had lost my bride, my best friend, my Nan and now my job. The strange thing was that today I just didn't care; I just wanted some happiness.

              

After an hour of just lying there Heather woke up and just kissed me lightly on the lips. I decided to give this special lady breakfast in bed. I went to the kitchen to see how many days past its sell-by date the bacon was and if the stale bread would be ok if toasted. My search for edible breakfast ingredients was halted by the sound of the postman pushing some letters through my letterbox. I went to investigate and found three letters. Two were obviously bills but the third one was in a purple envelope and hand written. The writing on the purple envelope looked familiar and I opened it nervously. As I thought; it was from Becky and started 'Dear Jon...'