An Ever Present Past
Let ’em in, let it out and let it be
This story was developed from the title of the Paul McCartney song An Ever Present Past. I then set the story in East London and used 78 other Paul McCartney song titles and references within the prose. Can you get them all without looking at the answers at the bottom?
Yesterday began as just another day, until it wasn’t.
The calico skies above this eastern suburb on the grey edge of London Town grew heavy with rain clouds. There were to be no blue suburban skies that day. It was a little after 7am when James jogged from the footpath to his front door. The heavy drizzle that had accompanied him on his 3-mile run now turned to driving rain.
His neighbour’s young daughter, Michelle, trotted to her front gate humming Mary Had A Little Lamb, dressed in a red plastic mac with her hood up and unperturbed by the bad weather. She smiled and called out, “Good morning good morning, Mr Laine.” She was on the way to her girls’ school.
He held up a hand and said, “Not too much rain, I hope,” and smiled back at her.
Michelle skipped off doing figure-of-eight steps through the puddles on the pavement. He closed the front door gently behind him. He’d need to rinse the raindrops from his drenched running top and shorts. His thighs stung with the icy cold.
The light was on in the kitchen; he could have sworn he’d turned it off. He strolled to the kitchen.
His wife, Penny, sat at the table and looked up. “Hello, Winston, did you have a nice run?” A faint smile flickered on her lips and her eyes glistened.
He froze in mid-step. His mouth dropped open as if someone had cut the tendons on his jaw with a razor-sharp cutlass. His name was James. Winston was his dear friend.
That wasn’t the biggest shock.
Penny had left home exactly five years ago. She went to the shops one morning and never returned. It seemed like once upon a long ago.
Penny leant down and lifted a 500-gramme bag of basmati rice from a plastic shopping bag by her feet and dumped it onto the table. He remained fixed to the spot in shock while she hummed silly love songs as if everything was normal.
“I picked up the rice we needed,” she said, “It was the last packet left in the shop.”
James Laine stared aghast at the rice and back at his wife. She was dressed exactly as she’d been when she’d left that long-ago morning. The shopkeeper had reported that a long-haired lady in a long leather coat, with her description, had bought the rice and some English tea. Although the police looked here, there and everywhere, there were no more sightings of her. Ever. Nobody knows what happened to her.
And yet she was here today in the kitchen. Five years later.
Penny’s forehead furrowed. “Aren’t you going to say anything? I can’t imagine what’s up with you this morning, Winston.”
He swallowed hard. Why was she calling him Winston? He tried to speak through a dry mouth and it came out as a squeak. He cleared his throat with a cough.
“Maybe I’m amazed to see you after all these years,” he said. “But you disappeared, Penny. I spent weeks looking for the note you never wrote to explain why you left. I cried myself to sleep every night. I gave you all my loving and I was never angry at you. Oh, woman, oh, why did you leave? It was always the two of us against the world.”
Penny got up and her chair scraped across the tiled floor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Winston. I never went anywhere, just to the corner shop and back. Four-five seconds, no more. I’ve got a feeling you’re confused, Winston. I think you’ve been overdoing things.”
He looked away, a tear in his eye. This had to be a weird dream.
A jet coming up to land at the nearby London City Airport growled overhead and the back door rattled as it passed over.
Penny approached him and he smelt her strong, sweet perfume. His memory was almost full of her, even now. He had no words to describe this moment. The night before he was alone but if Penny really was here today, there would be no more lonely nights.
He hugged his wife. This was the end of the end. She had returned. He put his hand on the back of her pretty little head and he felt her press into his shoulder, “Put it there, my love.” He felt himself smile away with joy.
He was certain she’d explain what had happened, but for now, it was a great day and he had his feet in the clouds with the comfort of love. He didn’t feel like ever letting go of her again; it was the same love as five years before.
A thought came to him. “Penny, we have to tell everyone you’re back, especially your mother Mary; yes, your mother should know. I’ll call her now.” He fumbled for his phone.
A loud crash came from upstairs, disturbing his thoughts. A wild, rapid flapping of wings and manic chirping sounds bounced around the house. “What the hell….”
He let go of his wife and ran upstairs. The noises came from the bathroom. He rushed in. A blackbird was flailing around the room in sheer panic, its wings beating crazily, its beady eyes popping out on stalks of fear. James saw the cold darkness outside. He guessed the bird had been attracted by the warmth inside and she came in through the bathroom window.
James ushered the bird out with a certain softness and closed the window. She was free now. Freedom. He hoped there’d be no more distractions. He had to get back to his wife and a new hope for the future. The past five years had been a rough ride.
He stepped down the stairs two at a time, his mind buzzing with the odd return of his wife but with joyous euphoria swimming in his head. With a little luck, everything would return to how it was.
But the strange way she was acting puzzled him; it was as if she was trying to pretend she had only just returned from the store with the rice. And she kept confusing him with Winston.
He burst into the kitchen, his eyes swinging from side to side, looking for his wife. Her perfume persisted, but she was no longer there. Had it been a dream, or is it that she’s leaving home again? He’d try not to cry as tomorrow he might be lonely again.
In this seemingly ever-changing world in which he lived in, his eyes fell on the kitchen table. And to the 500-gramme bag of rice.
THE END
The Paul McCartney song titles and references I used in this song story.
Here they are in the order they appear in the story, with explanations for some that are a bit more vague:
Ever Present Past (story title), Let ’Em In (subtitle), Let it out (from the lead-in to the 2nd chorus of Hey Jude), Let it Be (subtitle), Yesterday, Another Day, Calico Skies, London Town, Rainclouds, Blue suburban skies (from Penny Lane), 7am, Road, Driving Rain, Michelle, Mary Had A Little Lamb, mac - a British raincoat mentioned in Penny Lane, Good Morning Good Morning (The Beatles), Mr Laine (as in Denny Laine, McCartney’s side-kick in Wings), Girls’ School, Too Much Rain, Figure Of Eight, Rinse The Raindrops, Penny (Laine) geddit? Winston (Lennon’s middle name), Dear Friend, James (McCartney’s first name: Paul is his middle name), Once Upon A Long Ago, Silly Love Songs, Picked up the rice (from Eleanor Rigby), English Tea, Long Haired Lady, Long Leather Coat, Here There And Everywhere, Nobody Knows, Here Today, Maybe I’m Amazed, So Glad To See You Here, Imagine (John Lennon), The Note You Never Wrote, Every Night, All My Loving, Angry, Oh Woman Oh Why, Two Of Us, FourFive Seconds (with Rihanna & Kanye West), I’ve Got A Feeling, Jet, Coming Up, Memory Almost Full (solo album title), No Words, The Night Before (Beatles), Here Today, No More Lonely Nights, The End Of The End, Pretty Little Head, Press, Put It There, My Love, Smile Away, Great Day, Feet In The Clouds, Comfort Of Love, Letting Go, Same Love, Mother Mary (from Let It Be), Your Mother Should Know, Wings (Macca’s ’70s band), Blackbird, She Came In Through The Bathroom Window, A Certain Softness, Free Now, Freedom, Distractions, Get Back, Hope For The Future, Rough Ride, With A Little Luck, She Leaving Home, Tomorrow, Try Not To Cry, In this seemingly ever changing world in which he lived in(paraphrased from Live And Let Die), The End (The Beatles).