Extended Remix (Slight Return) – Wayne 6

[For back story see lower numbers in archive]


Wayne and Dave’s ingenuity was impressive – at least they felt it was. Tired of running up and downstairs in order to to push food pathetically towards each other they’d created a rope and pulley system between the two balconies out the back of their flat by which an assortment of items could be shared without either of them leaving their home. They realised there was some risk caught up with sharing things between the two of them, but for the moment they were both fit enough and Dave described their contraption and the link it made between the two of them as a ‘safe bubble’.

Dave also described the system as ‘a bit Heath Robinson’ and until he checked on the internet Wayne was convinced this was a musical reference to an old acoustic style rock ’n’ roll singer songwriter.

To begin with the contraption seemed like overkill just to share biscuits, but as time went by the bucket which did the rising and falling was filled with actual proper food prepared by Dave and actual proper beer stock piled by Wayne, sent down by way of thanks and sharing. If either of them was overly worried about what they received they could always clean it, cook it until they were certain any germs were dead – or to within an inch of a cinder whichever came first – or just chuck it away, pretend it was fantastic and continue their growing friendship.

Other things went back and forth too: books, CDs, a CD player and mini speakers (when Wayne remembered Dave didn’t have anything to play the CDs on), recipes and raw ingredients for making lasagne (which scared Wayne a little), a rolled up copy of ManzDown’s last tour poster, signed (Wayne telling Dave ‘it might be worth something one day’ but secretly wanting to make sure Dave knew who he was dea). And then, one day, Wayne sent some of his own baking down to Dave.

They were ginger biscuits. Nothing fancy, but something that he’d found the recipe for and realised he could actually make with the kitchen equipment he had. The biscuits were pretty good Wayne thought and he’d chomped through most of them before realising that they could be good enough to share.

Dave was suitably impressed (at least he said so) and stopped himself from dissecting the style, substance and taste of the biscuits, letting Wayne bask in the glory of his success on this occasion. That said he did recommend several cooking shows both on TV and YouTube.

This arrangement was making things easier for Wayne who was beginning to feel the cracks in his lockdown. On Thursday morning he had sat in his Range Rover in the underground car park. If he just put the keys in the ignition and started the engine he knew he’d be able to drive away. An hour and a half later – probably just an hour given lack of traffic – he’d be at his mother’s and while not everything would be alright, things would be better. 

But the journey was full of ifs. If he was well (which he thought he was), if he didn’t get stopped (that’d make good copy), if he didn’t need to stop at the services (were they even open? Would he spread something he didn’t know he had? Would he get something?).

Staying safe meant treating every ‘if’ like a certainty. And even if the journey was quick, the intention good and the impact minimal, he couldn’t bring himself to take that risk for everyone else. Weird, he thought to himself as he pocketed the keys and walked away, there’d been times when he went out of his way to break rules, but when everyone else was involved – even if he didn’t know who they were specifically, they were still people – there was just no way.

Wayne had made progress elsewhere notably in understanding how to do a Zoom chat. Unfortunately this had become necessary for only one reason. Cath, one of Wayne’s PAs had got in touch with him and insisted they talk via Zoom rather than the phone as she wanted to explain things face to face.

“The label are cutting back,” she started. “They’re cutting everything. You’re lucky cos you’ve had some success but some people have already been dumped.”

“BarnStormerz?” asked Wayne, hopefully.

Cath laughed, “Nah, mate, they’ve got another half album’s worth of material already. Been locked down together and it’s kind of suited them.”

Wayne swore under his breath.

“I wondered if you’d heard anything, though,” continued Cath. “Like from Sharon or Helen at all, cos I can’t get hold of them?”

“Nah, nothing,” said Wayne. “You’re the first person I’ve heard from in weeks. I went running you know? Hurt my elbow – look,” he flashed Cath his almost healed arm. “And I’ve made some biscuits too – aren’t they great?”

“You made any music?” asked Cath regardless. The question hung there and Cath, with the benefit of Zoom, was able to read on Wayne’s face the complete and utter lack of any musical activity that had occurred in the ManzDown stable. Wayne’s silence propelled Cath into a rapid-fire appraisal of the situation.

“Look I ain’t kidding here but they’re gonna cut anything and everything they can,” she said. “I reckon they’ve sent Sharon and Helen packing – not that I care – they weren’t doing anything for you anyway and you don’t need them. PAs they weren’t, hangers-on they were, right? So they can go wherev, but I’m standing by you, right? The dirt’s hitting the fan – and I’m not talking about that incident at the O2. And if I’m gonna do anything for you you’re gonna have to start doing stuff full stop and I’m not talking cooking or running or writing poetry or whatev. We need tunes. We need profile. You do the tunes, I’ll do the rest. And I’ve deleted that stupid mug shot off IG already, alright?”

When Cath signed off Wayne knew what he had to do, but didn’t feel like starting. The home studio equipment needed wiring up. He’d do it later and that would be a step in the right direction. In her direction.

Right now he wrote a note on the nearest note pad, folded it and stuffed it in the Heath Robinson bucket. He rang the small bell that told Dave something was coming and pullied the container away.

At about 8pm that night Dave and Wayne stood on their respective balconies and in an act of solidarity screamed into the night air. It was as per Wayne’s written request and made him feel a hell of a lot better.