The General Fantastic-ness of Rose.

A special person asked me a couple of months back if I would write a story for them if I was given nothing more than the title, I agreed (which should explain why the title is undeniably embarrassingly silly) and this is what I came up with. I hope you find it to be amusingly surreal. I don't intend to leave it half as long before the next update. If you spot any errors then let me know as I have had nobody proof read this yet and there will invariably be some. Thanks for ongoing support.

The general fantastic-ness of Rose

Rosemary awoke to almost absolute darkness. There was no light yet shining through her curtains but the sound of birds twittering gave away the fact that dawn was only minutes around the corner. She looked at her bedside clock and squinting, made out ‘6:21’. She relaxed back into her pillow for what she decided would be another nine minutes. “Half past six is quite late enough thank you” she thought to herself. At 6:27 she began to flex her toes and stretch her legs under the covers as it took her rather longer than it had a few years ago and needed some warming up before any weight could be put on them.  She creaked slowly out of bed and hobbled into the shower for exactly ten minutes, being careful not to slip on the wet floor of the bath or the bathroom. After she was done she wended her way slowly downstairs for breakfast. There was nothing in her small kitchen to suggest that it was in any way a special day for her, but despite a complete absence of any conventional celebratory items it was in fact, Rosie’s 90^th birthday. She made herself a cup of tea and opened the door to her garden allowing the cool air to drift in and the rising sun to begin flooding into the kitchen and lighting it up giving both Rosie herself and the entire room an ethereal quality.

After having a read of the newspaper, finishing her tea and some marmalade on toast Rosie picked up her bag, put her coat on and walked out into the morning. It was one of the first days of summer and a glorious Friday morning. She walked steadily along the road to her local village for and into her grocers where she bid Thomas, who worked there on Fridays good morning and she started bagging up fruit and vegetables. “Rose, do I remember correctly that it’s your birthday today?” he asked her as we weighed out her purchases. “You knew anyway you sly old dog, Thomas.” Thomas blushed and passed her a birthday card and she took it from him giggling like a schoolgirl. The card was signed with five kisses. They made small talk for several minutes about Rosie’s birthday plans and Thomas’s university degree and his learning to drive. “Just before I go actually Tom, could I use your bathroom please?” Although the bathroom wasn’t really for customers, Thomas was not about to tell a 90 year old lady she could not use the bathroom, so he pointed her in the direction of the toilet and gave her the key. She thanked him and unlocked the bathroom door, letting herself in. She made sure to lock the door behind her, put her bag on the sink and rifled around inside it. She pulled out a small bag of cocaine. She divided up three lines on the windowsill, in years past she would have done it on the toilet seat but these days found bending down to be far more hassle than it was worth. She then pulled out another small bag full of white capsules, although she was on occasional medication for very slight arthritis she also enjoyed taking a different kind of pills. She placed an E next to her three lines and taking a five pound note out of her coat pocket she rolled it up with surprising dexterity and in one breath snorted two of the lines. She removed the note from her nose, took a deep breath and swallowed the pill. She then bent over the sink taps and ran some water into her mouth, swallowing steadily. She took another few deep breaths, steadied herself and easily finished up the last line.

Bidding Thomas farewell she walked out into the morning, slowly but confidently. A kind of shuffling stroll. She looked at her watch and read the time to be eight o’clock. She didn’t have far to walk to get to her social club and nevertheless her slot did not open until 12, so she made her way to the local village pub, ‘The Hanged Bandit’. She sat herself on a high chair and smiled widely at the young man working behind the bar, “good morning Mark” she chirped brightly. Mark stopped what he was doing and immediately began stuttering with nerves. He wished her a happy birthday and she ordered her usual, he put down in front of her free of charge the following: a small whiskey, a shot of vodka, a warm pint of Hobgoblin and a cold pint of Carlsberg. Mark moved off to serve another customer and Rose leaned back contentedly into her chair as she knocked back the vodka in one, put it back down and then began sipping her lager. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the rushing sensation in her head. “I’m definitely getting on.” She thought to herself. “I’d be on my second pub this time five years ago.” After she had been there for an hour or so she remembered the poker club would be playing their first hand at exactly 9:45 and with this in mind she ordered another pint and wandered out of the main pub into the dusty sideroom. There were already three other people in there, ‘Az’ was a 20-something Asian man who had only recently finished a two year stretch in prison, ‘Jay’ was a 40-something skinhead who’d kept the looks but dropped the attitude and ‘Nikki’ was a 15 year old girl who had only last week had been awarded her first ASBO. As Rose walked in they all smiled warmly at her. “Good morning Rosie, happy birthday” Jay said, “Congrats” Az said and “yeah, big number enit”, Nikki put in. “Thank you all very much, I’m buzzing my fucking tits off by the way”, Rose told them all as she smiled blithely. “Gettin’ on good with that coke then? Well I’m glad, means you might not rob us all blind this time then” Az chuckled. The four of them put their drinks under their chairs and eagerly leaned in. “25p and 50p blinds standard yeah?” asked Nikki and Jay nodded as they all opened their wallets and purses. “Twenty pounds buy-in, just like you said... as standard”.

90 minutes later the four of them left the room, it would be obvious to anybody passing the results of the game, the dejected three slumped out in front of Rosie who was still shuffling out. “Well at least it took you longer than 20 minutes this time” Jay muttered, dejectedly pushing his now empty wallet into his back pocket. “I can’t help how fantastic I am”, Rosie grinned at him with a hint of apology in her voice and face. “But I really must be off, the social club is expecting me very soon”. They all shook hands and wished Rose a happy birthday one final time when Rose came out the pub to find her ride waiting for her, the driver was dressed in a black suit and wore dark sunglasses “Hello Rose”, he exclaimed as he hopped out the waiting car to help her into the back seat. She greeted him back and slid herself slowly into the back of the car as the driver hopped back in the front and took off. “Got a good mix of stuff for this week then?” he asked her. “Plenty, I took all the stuff there a few days ago and yes, I would definitely say it’s a good mix of stuff”. 20 minutes later the car rolled up to an old youth club. The poster on the door read: “27^th September grime, garage, house & dubstep DJs in the house all day and night long, entry £8”. Rose slid slowly out of her back seat with the help of the driver and the pair made their way to the main door inside, the curtains were all drawn and there was a thudding sounds coming from within. The door creaked open and a lively looking promoter bounced out to greet them “Thanks Morris” he grinned, “You’re looking beautiful today Rosie, happy birthday! I’ve set all your records out just under the booth darling, you’re on in five minutes.” “Perfect” she smiled blithely back. Although it was only mid-day the large hall was packed with young men and women body-popping and bouncing to sweaty, grimy music. The air was pulsating with sexual energy and once Rose had entered the building all the dancers and ravers who had spotted her immediately began making their way over to her, however the promoter had assigned her two hefty bouncers who pushed their beefy hands out at the adoring fans who’s words of reverence were lost in transit from their mouths to her ears due to the earsplitting volume of the venue. As the threesome made their way slowly up to the DJ booth they began to attract more and more fans who had noticed Rose’s entrance to the club, but the majority of them backed off quickly lest they suffer the huge pressing palms of the bouncers in their chests. Just as they reached the decks the DJ who had been playing before took his equipment off and handed her the headphones. “Good luck Rose, and happy birthday gorgeous”. The bouncer lifted her record collection onto a nearby chair to help her, her age did not permit such casual stooping as was needed to pick them up quickly anymore. The promoter took the microphone and announced to the room of dancers “And now I know this is what you’ve all been waiting for, please give a warm welcome to your afternoon DJ for the hour, DJ Rosemary” he strung out the last “ey” sounds for several seconds and the roar of approval was almost deafening. She hobbled up to the decks, slid her first few shiny vinyl records out of their pristine cases, spun them between her fingers and closed her eyes.

Harris – the promoter of the club would later go on to put Rose’s birthday set in his top three sets of all time and in the hours afterwards she remained a legend in her own right. She sat in the backroom with some of the other local DJs and a couple of interviewers for the local ‘What’s on’ magazine and gave her interview on the ever changing music scene, top ten tips for any budding poker player and her ideas on how to deal with Muammar Gaddafi. It wasn’t long before Rosie had noticed that the man interviewing her was massively attractive and as a woman used to getting who and what she wanted in life she quickly turned on her murray minty, age spotted charms. Saying the right things and giggling in all the right places. As the two of them sat there chatting away long after the official interview had finished the hours crept by unnoticed. The man’s name was Patrick and by the time Rosie resurfaced from her dreamy haze of entrancement she noticed she was beginning to tire and that the time was 9:30. She gently touched his leg and muttered in his ear, as she did so he twitched responsibly and she gently kissed the inside of his ear, at this point the deal was sealed and he stood up quickly. He held out an arm and let her grab on as she slowly raised herself up to her full standing position and announced to the backroom that was full of DJs, staff members and various other special guests that he was calling it a night and heading for home, he would be walking Rose to her car he told them. The people in the room all came over enthusiastically to shake her hand and wish her for a final time – a happy birthday. As they came one by one she smiled at them, thanked them and told them she thought the best of her day was yet to come, and that she was shocked she had managed to have such an intensely enjoyable day without even watching Countdown. The pair of them left the room and headed out through the back entrance, they stood in the alleyway and Patrick began helping her slowly through the darkness before he stiffened and halted. “I’ve left my coat in the building, wait for me one minute sugartits ok?” She bit her lip girlishly and said “Well, just a minute, hurry up”. and gave him a sly wink. As he turned around and powerwalked back into the exit they had just left through Rosie took a few awkward steps out into the cold night air and came to rest on the nearest parked car, shivering slightly. Sometimes when something bad happens a person can feel it in the air, a kind of shift in the tone in the atmosphere around them and being the eagle eyed perceptive woman that she was, Rose instantly knew something was up as she stood in the car park. She looked around instinctively and before she knew it there was somebody in her face from behind. The young looking man was of an indeterminate ethnicity and his accent was far too generic to properly identify as he barked at her “Gimmie your bag, and a phone if you’ve got one that ain’t in there. Give me your shit or I’ll fucking kill you I swear”. Rose didn’t move, she simply frowned slightly at the young man in front of her and spoke in a shaken but determinedly strong voice – “I know every single person in the club just behind you, young man. I’m betting that you just came out of there, and if I know all of them and just one of them knows you then you’re in trouble aren’t you?” The man stood stock still and Rose couldn’t work out whether it was from shock of being talked back to by an OAP or from realisation of the logic behind her words. “Walk away now and find another way to get money, I’m not giving you anything and if you try to take it by force we’ll find out who you are and young feller ‘me lad... We will fucking merk you.” The lad stumbled back slightly out of the sheer ferocity of her voice, he babbled incoherently for a second or two before “Oi, cunt!” rang loudly from the alleyway, Patrick started striding over to the young man but before he was halfway there Rose had taken advantage of his momentary distraction and nutted him in the face. He hit the deck hard, blood spurting from his nose. Patrick and Rose watched him for a moment as he writhed on the floor and they slowly walked away, and got into Patrick’s car.

Rosemary awoke to a gentle light drifting in through her windows. As she shuffled around in her bed Patrick grumbled and his eyes flitted open. The pair of them looked at each other for a long moment before Rose asked him if he had enjoyed his night. “It was spectacular. You really are something special, it’s like you can do everything... There’s no way to sum up your general fantastic-ness, a way to describe it just escapes me!” She smiled at him placidly and he grinned back as the naked pair shifted towards the middle of the bed to cuddle. After a few minutes Patrick got slowly out of bed saying he needed the toilet, as he walked towards the door still in his early morning haze Rose called his name “Yes babe?” he enquired. “Make me a cup of tea will you?” she asked. He grinned at her as he left the room and Rose let out a sigh of relief, leant back into her pillows and closed her eyes again, allowing herself to drift into a gentle doze.

Enormous thanks to my illustrator - Ruth Kitchen.