Break from routine - Please read and rate

Solitude

Sitting, staring, wondering, thinking, the slow snail trail of red tail
lights glistening on the leaden, rain soaked road.
The radio was spewing a banal babble of mass produced drivel and trite
forced good humour.

The sky was a Dylanesque bible black and so was my mood. Take away the
stress and what do you have?
Take away the job and what do you do with the free time? Give us back
our lives and what would we do with them?

Take away the bungling and incompetent management and see what
improvements we can make.
The red tail lights were still causing glare. I could see them start to
become less obvious from the front of the queue as the drivers
progressively released their death grips on the brake pedal and started
to inch forward into the maelstrom of traffic snaking it's way out of
the town.
I too eventually joined the ribbon of movement towards freedom. After 3
more turns on the lights, openly cursing the lumbering idiot in front
of me, I finally squeezed through to the moving side of the junction
and started to pick up speed.
The windscreen wipers lazily swept the mucky spots of water from the
glass every few seconds. I left the town and two things happened. The
sky became a lighter grey, away from the influence of the street lamps
and the rain became more persistent and heavy.
Soon there was open ground all round me and I started to feel
better.

Taking to the smaller roads I soon found a village with a pleasant
looking pub, church and green. I drew up outside the pub. There were no
other cars there so I was able to park easily. I entered the bar
through the low doorway. I should have realised that there was
something wrong because there was no little brass plaque over the door
advising me to "Duck or Grouse". I truly thought that I had found a
landlord whose sense of humour was in line with the rest of the adult
population.

There were only a few people in that evening. I assumed that it was
still too early for the evening rush. I asked for a pint and sat by the
fire to try to dry out a bit.
The fire appeared to be blazing merrily but there was little heat
coming from it. The other customers did not react to me at all, either
to take an interest or to conspicuously ignore me as happens in some
pubs.
I ordered food and it soon came up from the kitchen. It was plain, the
typical pub ploughman's lunch that has been the mainstay of pub grub
for many a year.

The bread was thick and crunchy granary, the cheese mature and tangy. I
felt as though I had been transported back through time to a more
comfortable age when people had time for one another.

I started to relax and enjoy myself. After a while I finished my drink
and went to leave. There was no-one around. I let myself out and got
into the car. I drove home and opened the front door.
All was dark.
I went into the sitting room. All the lights were off. I felt the back
of the television. It was cold.
I went into the kitchen. It was clean and tidy, as though no-one had
used it that day.
I went back into the hallway. The longcase clock had stopped even
though I distinctly remembered winding it that morning. I noticed the
small green clock on the video recorder. It told me that it was 02:45
am.
As I had only stopped briefly on the way home, and I had left work at
6.00pm this left me wondering where the hours had gone.
I looked upstairs to see whether my wife was asleep. Our bed was empty,
the covers uncreased and untroubled.
The only sign of habitation was a discarded newspaper in the waste
basket. It didn't look right in an otherwise tidy room so I picked it
up, intending to take it downstairs and throw it away. Curiosity forced
me to look. It must have been it the basket for a few days as the paper
had already started to discolour, although it was unusual for rubbish
to be left any length of time.. I tucked it under my arm and went
downstairs to see what had happened to the family.
There was no sign of life in the house at all. There was no food in the
fridge or and washing up on the draining board.
I went to throw the newspaper in the bin and noticed something odd. All
day at work I had been using the date stamp clearly showing the 12th.
The paper bore the date of the 14th. I put on the television and
dialled up teletext. The day, date and time were always shown at the
top of the page. To my horror the date on the screen was the 31st. I
picked up the phone and rang the operator.
"What is the date?" I asked.
"It's the 31st" came the reply. Obviously telephone operators are used
to answering daft questions.
I hung up and sat down. What was happening to me?
I picked up the phone again and called my mother.
The phone rang and rang with no reply. I gave up and tried my sisters'
number.
The call was picked up. I started to speak but the answering machine
informed me that she wasn't able to come to the phone right now. I
garbled a message about wondering where everyone was and hung up.

After a few minutes the phone rang and I ran to grab it.
"Hello?" I shouted uncertainly.
"Pete? Is that you?"
"Yes, Penny, what's happening?" I gasped. "I just got home and no-one
is here."
"They're staying with me until it's all cleared up" said Penny. "Where
have you been?"
"I just got in from work, the house looks as though it has been empty
for weeks."
"Nearly 3 weeks, to be precise. Where have you been?"
"I just got in from work. I was a bit fed up so I stopped for a drink
and something to eat on the way, I got here and the place is deserted.
"
"We have been worried sick about you. The police have been looking.
Your boss wants to know where you are and you've been in the papers and
everything. We thought you'd done a Reggie Perrin on us."
"I don't understand. I haven't been anywhere."
"Do you want to speak to Marilyn? She's upstairs in bed. She's been
terribly worried about you.."
"Yes please," I said, then, changing my mind, "No, I'll come over,
perhaps I need to see her face to face."
I rang off and left the house. I drove the short distance to Penny's
house and, as I approached the front door, it was thrown open and
Marilyn rushed out.
She was dressed in her night clothes and looked as though a lot had
been preying on her mind.
"Where have you been?" she asked.
"I don't understand, I came straight home from work, I only stopped at
a pub for a drink and a bite, when I got home it was late and no-one
was there.
"Frank at the office said you left at about 6, but that was weeks ago.
Where have you been since then?"
"I don't know" It seemed a feeble thing to say.

We went indoors. Penny was on the phone. I sat down in the sitting
room. I didn't feel as though I had been away. It felt as though I had
simply come home from work and it was now mid evening.

It felt too early to go to bed, yet all round me were people yawning,
yet unwilling to go to bed.
Penny came back from the phone.
"The Police are a cynical bunch aren't they? They said you must have
been off with a fancy woman. Who is she?"
They all laughed, as though the thought of me straying from the fold
was too ludicrous to contemplate. We talked for hours and I related the
whole journey to them.
"I don't think I know that pub, where is it ?" asked Penny.
I described the turning I had taken and the village I had visited. None
of them could recall or place the village or the pub, and I became a
little impatient after a while.

The next day was a Saturday and we slept in late. I decided to take
Marilyn to see the pub. I drove along the main road looking for the
turning I had taken the night before. After covering the whole length
of the road twice I noticed a small track and turned down it. It didn't
look like the road I had used but it was the only one. It wound on for
several miles until it reached a small group of dilapidated
houses.

We stopped the car on an area of rough grass at the side of the road.
There was a tall, unkempt hedge in the place where the pub should have
been. I crossed the road to investigate.
Through the branches of age old bushes I could see a building
mouldering in a thicket.
Squeezing through between the branches and brambles. I reached the
door, which I was able to push open with some difficulty.

Inside all was dark. The pub was deserted and derelict. Thick layers of
dust bore witness to the fact that nobody had entered the room for a
very long time. The bar was still there but all traces of bottles,
glasses optics and beer pumps were gone. Under the counter was a small
wooden drawer. I pulled it open. It was empty, except for three shiny
coins. They were the change I had tendered the night before for my very
reasonably priced pint and ploughmans.