Singing with Rufus and Trilly

The evening sun pierced Rufus's wing and he opened his eyes. For a moment he thought he was still in Africa, then he looked around and stretched his wings. He was back in Tom's garden at last.

 He'd been worrying about Tom all winter. Last summer Tom had been all on his own. The female that had lived with him had disappeared in a flurry of shouting .
 Rufus couldn't wait to sing for him.
 He couldn't wait to tell his friends the Robin and the Blue tit all about his adventures, the desert, the vast ocean and the strange things he'd eaten.
Most of all he couldn't wait to woo Trilly and win her heart with his new deep voice. Last year she had rejected him, said she preferred mature voices.
  He had thought about her all winter and how he would sing to her from the plum tree in Tom's garden.
 In Morocco and in  West Africa he had practised loud and clear morning and evening and sometimes all through the night. He had caught a lot of attention with his range of vocals, a young man called Jose and another called Karim had spent a lot of time trying to imitate him, just like Tom..

Rufus went to check out Tom's garden. The bushes that Tom had planted to keep out the muntjacs were laden with berries. There were lots of fat grubs and worms near the birdbath. He hopped about in excitement.

There was a movement near the house. Tom came out and went to sit under the pear tree. Rufus felt a sadness in his heart to see he was alone.

Dusk fell over the garden and the first bright star appeared.
 Rufus alighted gently among the branches of the pear tree. He puffed out his chest and inhaled the sweet evening air.
 He exhaled and in his song was all the passion and ecstasy that was in his heart for Trilly. The ecstatic warbles echoed round the garden.
 A young woman appeared from the French windows and went to sit beside Tom.
Rufus carried on, his throat was full of joyful sounds and his song poured out of him, giving delight and hope.
 He paused and waited.
 The he heard the answering call on the spring breeze. A ruffle of feathers and a shake of the branch and Trilly was there beside him. Together they continued their song in harmony.
They both paused and  waited poised above the bench waiting for Tom to join in.
Tom stood up and puffed out his chest then let out a whistle 'hweet, hweet, hweet'
Rufus and Trilly accompanied him. The garden was filled with exquisite singing that carried on the still sweet air.

  The young woman laughed and threw her arms round Tom's neck. Trilly hopped closer to Rufus. Together they sang their duet and Rufus heard the echo of Jose and Karim rejoicing in his song.

Growing up, growing apart

It was a beautiful day in late spring. Just perfect for a cycle ride.
Paul felt a pleasurable thrill as he pushed his foot down hard on the pedal. He glided off and closed his eyes as he felt himself relax. He often felt he could go round in a loop for eternity cycling along the country lanes, the wind wrapping itself around him like a caress. All his senses were heightened and he felt at one with nature. The scent of the flowers in the hedgerows, the new mown hay from the fields, the wild honeysuckle and dog roses. He breathed deeply filling his lungs with the sweet summer air. He  pushed harder on the pedals as the lane climbed upwards and when he reached the top he slowed to a halt. The view was breath-taking, shades of purple heather rolling away into a blue and turquoise shimmering haze. A few red kites were circling high in the clear blue sky.
Paul reached for his phone to take a photo, but then remembered he'd left it at home.

Just as he had been leaving, a text had come through from his brother, Mike.
Paul had groaned inwardly and tossed the phone in his golf bag that was near the door.

Paul often congratulated himself on his ability to have ignored all modern technology and social media. He'd perfected the most wonderful excuses to not use it at all.

Mike had pleaded with him, telling him that it would be a bridge to keep them together and lessen the distance between them. Mike had gone on and on about the importance of keeping in touch, of building bridges between families. Mike said that Whatsapp, Facetime, Skype would make them feel closer, the children would get to know each other. Paul didn't want to build bridges, he was perfectly happy with his own small world. it was much easier to keep Margaret happy when there was nobody competing for his affections. He felt quite proud of how he'd convinced his brother to leave him out of all these modern communications.

Paul didn't trust anything on the world wide web. All those hackers and weirdos had given him a great excuse to have opted out of having to speak to his brother or get involved with his family.

Paul knew that if he had his way, then Mike would have wanted to speak to him every week and tell him all about his wife Tess, and the children and grandchildren and his  house near Surfers Paradise and his friends drinking beers in the garden. Paul cringed at the thought. He wasn't interested in his brother's life at all.

 Both Paul and his wife Margaret hated phone conversations and now Paul had got his communication with his brother  down to a once a month phone call from his office with the occasional text.

Mike's texts often were emotional and managed to convey how much he missed Paul, thinking of you, wish you were here, hope to see you soon. Paul preferred to stick to facts, went on wonderful tour of the lakes, wine tasting at Betty and Sam's, wonderful hotel in the South of France.

A red sports car drove past, with the roof down, the driver waved and stopped.

It was one of Paul's golfing partners, Geoff.

'Admiring the view Paul, it's a beautiful evening. Join me for a pint at the King's Head?
By the way congratulations on your award.'

'Thanks Geoff, I'll be there in half an hour, drinks on me to celebrate.'

Geoff drove off and Paul pedalled after him raising his hand in farewell just as the car disappeared from sight.

Paul basked in the admiring glance that Geoff had given him. So many people admired him in their local community and in recent years even in London. He was known for his modest and unassuming ways in spite of the amazing success of his company. Paul's father had set up the company and then when he realized the popularity and competence of his son had taken early retirement. Paul's father had had two heart attacks and been told to slow down. The doctors said they had been caused by stress. Paul's mother was glad to have her husband to herself, and they discovered a mutual passion for cruises.

Everyone admired Paul's dedication to his parents, constantly looking after them until they passed on within a few months of each other.
Paul had run the company with charm and ease and won many awards, the latest one meant that he was due for an O.B.E and Margaret was already planning her outfit and having 'work' done on her face. The ceremony was in a week's time.
A shiver of pleasure ran down Paul's back and he pedalled faster, looking forward to his drink in the pub and the admiring crowd that would be there.

A car came up behind him and slowed, he glanced round and saw it was Margaret. He stopped and she came level and wound down the window.

'Paul darling, I'm sorry to come up like this but the landline kept ringing and I let it go to the answer phone. It was Tess. She said Mike's had a heart attack and might not last the night. I've already had a quick look at flights, I thought we could wait till after the award ceremony and then I thought we could stop a few nights in Dubai on the way home and do shopping, all the girls at tennis say it's amazing.'

She stopped talking and pulled down the shield to check her lipstick. Paul propped his bike up against the hedge. He felt sick. His face was pale under his tan and Margaret put out her hand to stroke his cheek. Paul brushed it away and snapped at her.

'Did you speak to Tess? Where is he? '

Margaret sighed heavily, 'No I didn't, I thought you'd better speak to her. It's really strange you know, a postcard just arrived of Sydney Harbour bridge inviting us to some sort of celebration. I thought we might go, my Bridge friends climbed it last year.'

'Ok listen Margaret, I was going to meet Geoff in the pub but I'll follow you home and we'll decide what to do.'

Margaret drove off and Paul followed. The sun was in his face now and the fields were bathed in gold. He looked straight ahead and a shaft of light broke across his path almost blinding him.

He thought he saw his brother's face before him and a lump came to his throat.
It was as though his brother's life flashed before him. He could see Mike's little face with its' cheeky grin, beaming at Paul when he'd won the sack race at school, cheering loudly and jumping up and down. He saw his brother's adoring looks as he watched his elder brother receive his prizes at Speech day.
Then he saw the hurt look in Mike's eyes as Paul left for his private boarding school in his smart new uniform. Paul had badgered his parents to send him to the same school as his elder cousin, already instinctively knowing he would acquire the skills he so admired.
A light seemed to go out of Mike's face as he was left behind.
Then Paul remembered the joy with which his brother welcomed him when he came home for the holidays and the relief and pleasure in his face when Paul decided to take his A levels at the local school. Mike had jumped up and down shouting out that he'd got a brother again. They were a proper family again.
Paul remembered all the fun they'd had listening to music, messing about with their bikes, going to parties, talking about the girls and swapping amusing stories.

Then , everything changed when Paul met Margaret. She thought Mike was a bit vulgar and too loud and they both breathed a sigh of relief when Mike announced that he was going to Australia for two years to work in an Architects' office. It wasn't long before he was writing long letters to tell them about Tess and her large boisterous family. They'd  had taken him under their wing and Mike wanted Paul and Margaret to come for the wedding with their parents.
Instead of going to Australia for the wedding, Paul and his father had called Mike over to sign over his shares of the business. They couldn't risk a herd of Australians coming to stake their claim.
The years went by and sometimes they had never managed to have a family reunion, the flights were expensive and Margaret didn't like Tess and her loud brash family.

The sun went behind a cloud and Paul felt a spot of rain. He pedalled faster. Maybe they shouldn't wait until after the ceremony, maybe they should go straight away. Paul glanced down at his firm strong thighs. He wasn't surprised that Mike had had a heart attack, all he seemed to do was talk about Barbies and beer. Paul and Margaret took great pride in their fitness regime, Pilates, tennis, cycling and long walks with friends.
The rain was coming faster now and Paul was relieved to see the gates of his house up ahead. He turned into the drive and for the first time didn't feel the immense pride at the sight of his elegant Georgian house with the roses round the door. Margaret opened the door holding out a large towel.

'Quickly Paul you'll catch a cold. No hurry now, Tess left another message saying he's gone. Come on in and I'll make you a nice hot cup of tea.'
She hesitated before saying, 'Tess said the last thing he said was to tell you he loves you.'

Paul slowly took the towel away and caught sight of his reflection in the gilt edged mirror.
He couldn't tell if it was rain or tears on his face.