Simon’s patience was wearing thin. The young man was completely wasting his time. Especially on a Monday afternoon, when there were things to be done, people to be met and multi-million contracts to be signed. He’d agreed to meet the young man, as he had come highly recommended by one of his ex-managers, Louise Fairfield. Louise had always had a strange taste in singers, but since some of Simon’s most in-demand artists were originally discovered with her help, he still indulged her when she referred someone that she thought had potential. But even before this chap had started singing, Simon knew this wasn’t going to be one of those auditions where he could walk out with his head held high and planning how many more millions he could add to his already substantial bank account.
As Simon forced his attention back from his millions to the present, the young man’s off-tune and croaky voice cut through his thoughts. “Okay, I think we’ve heard enough!” said Simon, suddenly standing up and walking up to the stage. “I don’t think you have what we’re looking for. And please, it might be wise for you to look for another career. One where you don’t have to sing, probably !” he said as he walked out of his audition theatre, leaving the young man in a state of shock. In a desperate bid to beat the afternoon rush hour traffic, Simon quickly hurried to the lift to get to his car. As he slid into his brand new SL 65 AMG Roadster, he took a minute to gather his thoughts. Today was a huge day for him. He had organised a big bash at “The Shard” and if everything went according to plan, by the end of the day, he would be another $1.5 million richer having re-signed one of the most popular current artists with his company. But for now, he was off to have an amazing lunch with his gorgeous new model girlfriend, Tanya.
The crowd that had gathered around Marcus Oliphant parted as Simon walked across to him. Marcus pleasantly smiled. Simon had given him his first break, and he owed much to that man’s sheer passion and business acumen. He’d still be singing on one of those cruise liners had it not been for Simon. “ Thank you Marcus. I’m glad you could make it!” said Simon, extending his arm in a handshake. Clasping Simon’s hand firmly, Marcus said “Simon, I wouldn’t have had it any other way !” Pulling him away from the crowd, Simon firmly directed Marcus towards one of the tables in the corner. His manager Tom Hedding, followed them silently. As Simon went through the terms and conditions of the revised contract, Tom advised Marcus on a few new clauses that had been added. After a few minutes, Tom handed over a pen to Marcus, who hastily scribbled his name on the dotted line. As they walked back to the centre of the room, Marcus looked at Simon and said “Thank you once again, Simon. You do know that you didn’t have to go through all this trouble just to get me to re-sign with your company. I would have done it regardless. The party was great by the way, but I’m going to have to leave now. I’ve got an early flight to LA tomorrow”. Simon smiled and gave Marcus a pat on his shoulder. “Good luck with your recording buddy!” he called out as Marcus and Tom walked towards the main door.
Simon took a sip of the 50 year old Glenfiddich, as he stared out at the magnificent Tower Bridge through the full-length window in his living room. Almost instinctively, he snatched one of the remote controls from a nearby shelf. At the press of a button, the lights in his living room dimmed to a minimum. Another click, and his sound system came alive and automatically tuned in to one of the popular London music channels. He smiled as he heard the familiar lyrics of Bon Jovi’s “Have a nice Day” fill the room.
Have a Nice Day – Bon Jovi (Click to listen to the song)
“Shining like a diamond, rolling with the dice,
Standing on the ledge, I show the wind how to fly.
When the world gets in my face, I say, have a Nice Day. Have a Nice Day”
“Yes!” he thought. He’d just had a really nice day.
Simon loved Tuesdays. It was the complete opposite of how his Monday’s normally were. He often slept till mid-day and enjoyed a lovely brunch served by his house keeper, Mrs. Costello. Today, it was Spanish Frittatas, something that Simon had enjoyed ever since his mother had first made it for him. As Simon got ready to leave his apartment, his phone buzzed. It was his mother. With a sigh, he cut the phone. He knew what she wanted. She’d been wanting to meet his new girlfriend for a few weeks now, something that he wasn’t too keen on. “She just wants to know if Tanya’s the one!” he thought, amused that his 73 year old mother still thought that she had a say in his personal life. At 47, Simon was still a bachelor. He did have a long term live-in relationship with Samantha, a woman whom he’d been with for almost 4 years. He had even fathered a baby of hers. But they’d broken up last year, and Simon had been more than content to flutter around from girl to girl like a bee to a flower.
Simon navigated his roadster through the chock-a-block London traffic. As he stopped at a red signal, he decided to pull down his roof. Spring had arrived and he loved to drive with the top down without the risk of rain, snow or any of the other weather uncertainties that England was famous for. He smiled at a cute little girl who was waiting at the pedestrian crossing with her tiny puppy. She smiled back as the signal turned green, and the cars started rushing forward. As he started to pull away, he heard a loud screech and saw a mini van careen right onto the footpath. He watched shell shocked as the pedestrian signal-post crumpled into a mass of metal. Almost simultaneously he heard a squeal. ” The girl ! “ thought Simon as he jumped out of the car and joined the crowd of people who were now covering the area. He pushed some of them away and forced his way to the front of the crowd. The little girl was lying in a puddle of blood, and there was a big gash on her right temple, where the a shard of metal seemed to have caught her. Overpowered by his natural instinct, he ran to the girl and bundled her up in his arms, not paying any heed to the crimson colour that was staining his expensive shirt. As he was rushing away, he almost tripped, jostling one of the men who had gathered there. He turned back to look and almost instantly felt bile rising up in the back of his throat. He closed his eyes to fight back the tears that were starting to form, and continued to walk away from what was left of the puppy. He had a feeling, he’d need more than a couple of bottles of Glenfiddich to drown that devastating image from his mind.
“Where is she?” asked a panic stricken woman to the nurse on duty. “This has to be Lizzie’s mother” thought Simon as he looked up from the music magazine he was flicking through. He put the magazine down and walked towards her. She was dressed in the uniform of one of the leading departmental stores. There were black streak lines on her cheek from where the mascara had smeared from crying. She gave Simon a quick glance and stopped at the large crimson patch on the left side of his shirt. And then she burst into tears. Simon stood in shock for a moment, unsure how to react. Then slowly but firmly, he held her hand and said “Miss….I know it’s difficult but please be calm. Lizzie is in the Operation theatre. She had multiple injuries and needed urgent surgery. They couldn’t wait till you reached, so I signed the approval form. I asked them to call you on the number that we found in Eva’s backpack which was with her at the time.” She nodded her head and wiped her face with the tissue that the nurse held out. “Thank you!” she said in a subdued voice “I’m Eva, Elizabeth’s mother. I was at work, when they called me from the hospital. I was told that a gentleman by the name of Simon had brought Eva here. If that’s you, Thank you so much !” Simon smiled and gently acknowledged her. He led her to the waiting area and sat her down. “You wait here Eva. I’ll get you some tea. It’ll help you relax a bit”, he said.
Simon looked at Eva who had eventually curled up on a couple of the hospital chairs. They’d been waiting for over 5 hours and Eva had been getting stressed out by the minute. Finally, he’d decided to mix one of the Valium tablets that he often carried in his car, in her tea, to help her relax. Instead, she’d fallen asleep from the all the exertion and stress she’d undergone in the past few hours. Twice, Simon had enquired about the progress of the surgery, only to be told that it was quite complicated and they would let them know once it was over. He wasn’t sure there was much to be gained from his being there, but strangely, he couldn’t get himself to leave Eva alone here. He’d discovered that Eva’s husband was in the British Army and had recently died in an accidental land mine explosion whilst on a tour of Afghanistan. Elizabeth was all she had in terms of family, and this accident risked Eva losing her too.
He desperately craved a cigarette. Asking the nurse to ring him on his mobile when there was any news, he walked out of the hospital. The cool spring breeze ruffled his gelled hair lightly as he walked towards his car. He opened up the top of his AMG roadster and pulled the lever by the side, which reclined the seat. As he lit up, he turned on the radio to help get his mind off Lizzie, Eva and the whole day. As he took a deep drag, the melancholic lyrics of a favourite song of his, played through the car speakers.
Knockin on Heaven’s Door – Guns N’ Roses (Click to listen to the song)
“Mama take this badge from me, I can’t use it anymore
It’s getting dark too dark to see, Feels like I’m knockin’ on heaven’s door
Knock-knock-knockin’ on heaven’s door, Knock-knock-knockin’ on heaven’s door
Mama put my guns in the ground, I can’t shoot them anymore
That cold black cloud is comin’ down, Feels like I’m knockin’ on heaven’s door
Knock-knock-knockin’ on heaven’s door, Knock-knock-knockin’ on heaven’s door”
As Axl Rose’s deep, raspy voice sang the words to Bob Dylan’s original “Knockin’ on heaven’s door”, the true meaning of the lyrics hit Simon. The song had been originally written as the soundtrack for 1973 movie Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, and described the collapse of a deputy sheriff, dying from a bullet wound; he tells his wife “Mama,take this badge off me; I can’t use it anymore.”
For the first time in a long time, Simon closed his eyes and prayed. Not for him, but for Lizzie. And Eva.
To be continued.
I Wrote Those - by Sid Balachandran 
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