Comfortably Numb

Chapter Two - Nobody Home

Gary and Phoebe had made an early start, to enjoy the sights of the Festival of Britain before the crowds arrived. Unfortunately now the crowds had arrived, so it was getting to be a bit of a crush.

"It's a pity Michael's at school today, he'd have loved this," said Phoebe once they'd found a bench to sit down upon.

"We don't need no education," Gary hummed to himself.

"What's that?"

"Oh, just an idea for a new song," replied Gary hastily. "We don't need no education, we don't need no thought control..." he sang, then tailed off into silence as Phoebe gave him that frowning look again.

"Can't see that ever being a hit. And anyway, you're the one who's always pulling me up for bad grammar."

Gary put his arm around his wife's waist. "Happy?"

She smiled back again. "Yes, I am. I was thinking - it's been six years since the war ended. The war lasted six years. That means that from now on, we'll have had more peace than war."

They sat for a minute in silence, enjoying the sunshine and watching people pass by. Then Phoebe spoke again. "And it's so nice that you're home, and not going off doing your secret stuff, and you can be a proper father to Michael and Yvonne. Do you think she'll be alright with Noel?"

"She'll be fine," Gary reassured her. "Noel's great with kids. He looked after Michael often enough when I had to... go away. And we needed a day to ourselves. You've hardly been out of the flat since Yvonne was born. Even the shopping has been down to me and Reg."

"I know," she said with a slight edge to her voice. "And that's something a woman should be doing, not a man."

"I had to shop for myself before I met you," said Gary.

"That's different and you know it, Gary Sparrow. A married man shouldn't be going to the shops for groceries."

"I shouldn't be letting you into their flat, Mrs. Spar - er, your Ladyship. If we're found out Mr. Jones'll have my guts for garters," said Reg, fumbling with a set of keys.

"I'm his wife, remember?" Yvonne frowned. "Well, one of 'em, it seems."

"How do I know that? Have you got any proof?"

"Oh, dear, I'm afraid I left my photo album with our wedding pictures at home. And I didn't even think to bring our marriage certificate."

"I get it. You're being sarcastic."

"No, I'm being sincere, can't you tell?" Yvonne snapped.

Reg didn't appear to have heard. "Do you know, yesterday I wouldn't have recognised sarcasm. But since that bang on the head just before you turned up, I'm getting a grip on things more."

Yvonne was getting impatient. "Just open the door, please?"

She was annoyed at having to give the Ritz the sapphire necklace that Sting had given her for her birthday two years ago - well, in 2003 - in payment for her stay last night. But 21st Century cash didn't cut much ice here in the Fifties, and they wouldn't take plastic either. Gary must have had all this worked out, she thought. I bet Ron had something to do with it, with his printing.

Reg opened the door, then retreated to allow Yvonne to enter.

Yvonne gasped in surprise. She had expected to see Gary, or Phoebe, but - Noel Coward?

"Shh, you might wake the baby. I - " Mr. Coward looked up, and stopped when he saw Yvonne. "Good morning. I don't believe I've had the pleasure?"

"No, I don't suppose you have," she replied with a giggle. "You're Noel Coward, right?".

"Indeed I am. And you are?"

"Yvonne Sparrow. Baroness Sparrow, actually."

"Charmed," said Noel, kissing her hand. Yvonne giggled again. "I take it you're a relative of Gary?"

"I should say so," replied Yvonne. "I'm his wife. Not the only one, it seems."

Noel raised an eyebrow. "Oh dear, oh dear. I can see there being fireworks when they return. Perhaps I should retire to the safety of my own quarters - but I promised I would look after little Yvonne till they returned."

"Yvonne? The baby's called Yvonne? After me?"

"Indeed she is. Six months old, with all the energy of one ten times her age."

"Do Gary and - whatsername - have any more kids?"

"A sweet little 8-year-old called Michael. He's at school."

"So where are they?"

"They're spending the day visiting the Festival of Britain. Poor Phoebe hasn't been outside these four walls since little Yvonne was born."

"When will they be back?"

"Oh, tea-time, I should say. Phoebe will want to feed Yvonne, and Michael will want his tea when he gets home from school."

"Fine," said Yvonne. "Reg," she called out to the figure lurking nervously by the door, "be a love and make us a nice cup of tea, and Mr. Coward can tell me all about Gary and - " she spat the word out - "Phoebe."

The day flew past for Gary and Phoebe. By four o'clock they both felt exhausted, so they took a taxi back to Mayfair.

"That was a lovely day, Mr. Sparrow. Thank you." She kissed him on the cheek as they reached the landing leading to their front door.

"Thank you, Mrs. Sparrow," replied Gary, unlocking and opening the door.

"You're welcome, Mr. Sparrow," said Yvonne from the sofa. "But which Mrs. Sparrow were you talking to?" She stood and turned.