Torpedoed – Wayne 55

[For a quick guide go here: Quick guide.]

[There's some back story here: Story so far at 30 Nov 2020 and read more recent Wayne episodes like this one.]

[Other back story through in-links.]

Jezzy prided himself on never having had a curry. Not to sit down and eat, nor to takeaway. All other food he had no problem with. He’d eat himself around the world but he’d always stop before anyone placed anything curry-like in front of him. He couldn’t explain it. It was just how it was. Maybe he’d tried something when he was younger and had hated it. Maybe he didn’t like the smell. Whatever it was there was no changing the guy.

It was a fact that he and Wayne had discussed while on tour and one which they discussed again now. Now that Jezzy had tested positive for Covid and probably had the Indian variant. 

It was particularly annoying because Jezzy had no idea where he’d picked it up from or when he’d gone down with it. A haphazard test he’d taken with his mates ‘for a laugh’ had suddenly stopped being so much fun as the plastic results panel produced two stripes instead of the safer single stripe. Jezzy had laughed it off, but took another one all the same - still laughing at the sensation of trying to swipe your tonsils - and all the same the laughter stopped when the second line appeared. 

A more official test followed, followed by a more official result.

Wayne tested himself and came up negative. He felt he’d dodged the bullet but was then hit by a ricochet as Dave explained in no uncertain terms that Wayne would not be able to come anywhere near him, his flat or his restaurant for ten days in case he was a transmitter or was about to go down with it. Wayne protested, but relented as it became clear that having waited so long, Dave was not about to go and do something stupid which could jeopardise the reopening of actual inside actual tables inside his actual restaurant with actual food. Actually. 

And so Wayne trudged up the stairs in their block, put the key in his door and found himself in his own home, alone for the first time in a long long time.

He opened the windows to try and get some fresh air in to replace the somewhat turgid smelling stuff that was loitering. He couldn’t honestly remember the last time he was on here for any extended period of time. He’d called in to get clothes, instruments, tech, money and so forth, but that was never for more than ten minutes so the smell hadn’t really struck him. Nor had the amount of left used crockery and cutlery that was lying around the place. Various saucepans had been deserted and the odd plate and bowl seemed to have made it to the washing up bowl but no further, having run out of steam, interest and incentive.

Even now, when he knew he was going to have to tackle the debris Wayne just shoved a few odds and ends into the washing up machine alongside the frankly mouldy pieces that were already in there. He refused to stop and make tidying up a thing for him to do right now - even though he realised this was the perfect time to tidy up. People could come round again. Not everyone at once of course, but enough for him to need to present himself as someone who could look after himself if he wanted to.

Instead he fired up the laptop he carried in and, pushing the old music papers aside, sat on the sofa. Then he decided it might be better if he got up and opened the curtains - just to show willing and see if the curtains still worked. They did.

Before long he’d found a beer from the fridge and had Jezzy over a video channel.

“Man you’ve really torpedoed my come back,” Wayne grinned down the line at him.

“Sorry, boss,” said Jezzy. “No idea where this came from, but sure don’t want to pass it along to anyone else.”

“You stay right where you are man,” said Wayne. “Safest place for you. Not just cos you’re ill but if I could reach you…”

Jezzy laughed and that triggered his cough. It was a special cough and quick off the blocks Wayne hit record and saved the noise to an audio file.

Later he would reverse the clip, shave a few fragments of noise from it and plunge it through an echo unit. Within minutes Wayne had produced something which, punctuated by the fattest of beats, was the perfect sound of the pandemic.