Lost dreams

This story first appeared in town and Community Magazine.

LOST DREAMS

Her daughter Sophie spotted the letter in the local paper.

“I’m trying to find Marian Sweethouse.  If you’d like to meet up for old time’s sake Marian, then contact Frank Benton…..”

“Oh go on Mum, it’ll be a laugh,” Sophie urged, putting the finishing touches to her mother’s new hair style.

“I don’t know,” Marian said, admiring Sophie’s creation in the hairdresser’s mirror; blonder, brighter and with all the sculpting gel, spikier.  “It’s so long ago now.”

“Mum!  This isn’t like you.  Where’s your sense of adventure gone?”

She smiled. Sophie was right.  She’d spent her whole life seeking out new experiences, so why hesitate now?  Was it because she’d always made a rule of never looking back? 

Nevertheless, she found herself thinking of the summer of ’58, when she’d first met Frank, or Frankie as he’d been then – uncrowned King of the Teds. She’d been on the beach throwing a ball to her dog and had noticed him propped up on his elbows watching other Teds playing football.  To get his attention she’d ‘accidentally’ thrown the ball in Frankie’s direction and had hit him between the shoulder blades.

He’d whipped his head round, ready to shout at the culprit, but had changed his mind the instant he’d seen who it was.  A big grin had spread across his lean face as he looked the tall blonde up and down, taking in her long brown legs and cheeky periwinkle blue eyes.

Marian had been completely besotted the instant he spoke to her in his Teddy Boy drawl.  What made him even more attractive was that her parents had forbidden her to speak to Teddy Boys. In their eyes, they were hooligans and therefore unsuitable for their 16-year old grammar school daughter.

They’d walked along the beach, throwing the ball to her dog, ignoring cat calls from his friends.  He’d told her he was going to be a star.  Singing in local clubs wasn’t good enough for Frankie.  He was going to be big.  Bigger even than Elvis.  With his millions, he’d drive around in a Bentley all day and at night, sing in his own clubs and be screamed at by chicks.  Then he planned to conquer America.  She drank in every word, believing in him and picturing herself on his arm, posing for photographers, caught up in a whirlwind of fame and fortune.

Smiling, Marian returned to the present, as Sophie removed the cape from her shoulders.  She gave her hair a quick touch and made her decision.  She would meet him.  She was suddenly curious to find out what had happened to his dreams.

They met on the same beach, but the vibrant Teddy Boy that she remembered had long gone.  If time had been kind to her, as Marian was so often being told, then it had ravaged Frank.  He looked so grey, not just the colour of his sparse hair, but his whole character seemed to have been washed away, as if he’d spent his entire life in a washing machine.

He still had his nice smile though, Marian thought as her eyes drifted to his sensual lips.  Lips she’d kissed more times than she cared to remember.

“It’s good to see you again Marian,” he said for the second time, struggling for conversation after she’d kept it going for the past 15 minutes.  “Just like old times really,” he said.

 She glanced at him and shook her head, swinging her heels gently against the wall.  “No it’s not.  It’s like young times Frank.  We were young when we were here,” she added wistfully, picturing herself running along the beach, flared red skirt flapping around her legs and Frankie chasing, catching and kissing her.

He frowned, unsure how to answer.  “Er, yes, well.  Young.  Old.  Where have those years gone eh?”

”Where indeed?”  She wanted to tell him that she’d hidden the years in a box under her bed and when she was ready to live another 64, she’d open the box and take them out.  But judging from their conversation so far, she knew he wouldn’t understand.

“Frank, it’s been nice to meet you again, but do you know why I really came today?”  He shrugged.  “To find out what happened to your dreams.  You were going to be bigger even than Elvis, remember?”

At the mention of Elvis she saw a wistful glimmer in his eyes, where once there’d been a burning passion, so alive, that Marian could have touched it.  

“Dreams never earned money,” he grunted, the glimmer disappearing.

“But your voice,” she argued.  “It was wonderful.”

He shrugged. “No it wasn’t.  I just thought it was.”

Marian had to fight the urge to shake him.  Shake him because he’d let it all go. She and the other Teds had believed in him.  Had wanted him to succeed, but by not fulfilling his dreams he’d somehow let them all down.   Instead of using his talent Frank had settled for a job in the local garage and early fatherhood, when he could have been so much more. 

Now she had the answer to her question, Marian wanted to leave.  The thought of a wasted talent depressed her.  She jumped down from the wall and held out her hand.

“Goodbye Frank.”

“Shall we meet again?” he asked hopefully, giving her hand a rough shake.

She shook her head.  “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, dropped to the sand and walked away.  She watched him for a second before closing her eyes and visualising him as he’d been the day he’d walked away from her after she’d finished with him.   Frankie, King of the Teds, with his slicked back hair and ‘attitude’ which told her that she might have rejected him, but he didn’t care.  There were plenty more ‘chicks’ and fame and fortune waiting for Frankie.

And this ‘chick’ should be getting home, she thought with a wry smile as she picked up her crash helmet and returned to her motor bike.  Home to phone Sophie to tell her about Frank’s lost dreams, before packing for her next concert tour.  It hadn’t only been Frankie who’d had dreams of becoming a star. 

THE END