Broken Birdie Chirpin Read Free

pruning Cicero with
the hedger and it eased me into surrender like a morphine drip.
    "Right."
I exchanged my guitar for clippers and trimmed hedges until Thursday night
bangers.
    Brother
returned my notebook when Cicero left. The entire blooming spectacle had been
for Cicero's benefit after all. Brother was happy as long as his mates were.
Unfortunately, his mates were mostly daft and easily amused. No matter. I’d be
sure to forget all about them during my one-off for her majesty at the Royal
Albert Hall.
    Fast
forward. A horrible sensation pierced my guts like a shank after my bonce hit
the pillow that evening. Something of critical importance had been lost. I
wracked my weary brain but couldn’t put a finger on it. Bloody hell. It finally
hit me with the force of a lead pipe. I’d never memorialized the lyric and
melody that’d inspired me earlier. I closed my eyes and summoned it back from
beyond but the effort proved futile. Inspiration was fickle and had slipped
away on account of brother’s chicanery. He wouldn’t soon be forgiven.
    Perhaps
someday my wayward love song would return home.

CHAPTER FOUR
    Becky
kept her promise. She was in the schoolyard chatting up some of her mates as I
sneaked about. Word of my spectacular performances must have spread because
plenty of fresh faces were on hand. I blasted through "Boomtown
Becky" to kick things off and even winked at its namesake during the
middle eighth. It didn't go unnoticed. I rollicked through a few more before
closing it out with a fiery rendition of a toe tapper called "Jimmy Jammy
Beggar." The loins of the other slags erupted with jealously when I tossed
Becky my pick at the finale. They tried to nick it, but Becky fought them off
with her elbows. The show had been a blinding success.
    "Thanks
for the souvenir."
    "Cheers
for not hacking off Sister Pranny."
    "I
may be shirty but I'm not dim. I couldn't keep my rock n' roller waiting
again." Becky put her soft mitts on either side of my face and kissed me
softly. Her lips tasted like candy floss. I smiled and went in for a frenchy.
Becky interrupted after only a few glorious swirls. "You know you ought to
take me out for a pop or something."
    "All
this snogging made you thirsty?"
    "I'm
not fooling around. I don't want to earn a reputation." It hadn't crossed
my mind that Becky might fancy more than just snogging in the schoolyard. I
didn't have the social skills to pull off a genuine outing with her. I'd be
exposed as a twit and a fraud. There wasn't a smacker in my piggy bank to top
it off.
    "Right.
Piece of cake. A fizzy or two next week then." Twas a little white lie to
appease the respectable bird inside Becky. Fortunately, it did the trick as
Becky pulled me tight against her and drowned me in candy floss until it was
time to part.
    "It's
Friday. I suppose we’re not going to be seeing each other for a couple of
days.” She rubbed my arm. “What will I do without you?"
    "Rest
those lips, minxy.” I impressed myself with the witty retort.
    "Don't
forget about our date.” Blimey. I already had. “We can meet at the back door
after the bell. How about Monday?"
    "Right.
Smashing." I’d have an entire weekend to stew in my psychosis.
    Becky
scampered away whistling the melody to "Boomtown Becky." She was
chuffed. She could hardly wait to tell her mates that her squeeze wanted to
drop quid on her. I was horribly uneasy. The rock n' roller with the guitar was
bold and interesting. I only waltzed in his shoes for an hour or two. Becky
didn't know the dodgy bloke who walked in my kickers the rest of the time. I'd
be branded a blighter if someone discovered that I was only mysterious because
no one knew what a horrible blighter I was.
    An
empty garden greeted me when I arrived home. I felt convinced that brother was
hiding behind the shrubbery. He’d leapt from behind the black chokeberry with
the garden hose and soaked me to my knickers a few weeks before. Cicero stood
behind the winter honeysuckle