Page 6 of Sing it, Sam

“Nice to meet you Mr …”What did he say his surname was?

“Just Frederick will do. Never Freddy though.”

Lucky he’s happy to be casual, because I have no idea what he just said his last name is. I slip my fingers into his cold grasp and shake. “Not a problem, Frederick. I’m Jane. It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“Do you mind if I sit?” he says, eyeing the space beside me on the worn timber.

“Please,” I say and pat the bench. “I was just thinking about how beautiful it is out here.”

“That it is,” he says and takes a pressed handkerchief from his pocket and wipes at his nose. “You know, this was my Judith’s seat.”

Oh my god. He’s Fred. My heart jumps up my throat. I spring to my feet as if I’ve desecrated the space. “I’m so sorry.”

“Nonsense. Sit. She’d want someone else to enjoy it as much as she did.”

I slowly edge my way back into the seat. “Such a beautiful dedication.” I turn to look at the brass once more.

He runs his fingers over the plaque and smiles, as if memories of his lost love are flooding back to him.

“She hated me flying,” he says. “When I came home one day, not long after we were married, I told her I was going into aerobatics. I used to fly passenger aircraft, you see. She threatened to divorce me. She never did though. Guess she loved me too much.”

“You were a pilot? Wow.”

“I used to travel all over the world and do aerial displays at air shows and the like.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Been retired for a long time, but I’d like to think that I could still rip a good loop-de-loop in a Baron if called upon.”

“That’s awesome,” I tell him as I scrunch up the wrapper in my hand.

His grey brows pull together. “Have I seen you here before? A while back?”

“Maybe a couple of years ago. My Grandmother, Violet Rhynehart, used to live here.”

“Oh, Violet,” he says and smiles, a warmness in his eyes. “Such a kind soul. You know, my Judith and Violet were like two peas in a pod.”

My heart pounds harder at the thought of Nan having a bestie here. “They were?”

He nods and hums in the back of his throat. “They were always front and centre for bingo, and painted whenever they got their hands on supplies. Judith didn’t take her passing too well. None of us did.”

My eyes well up with thoughts of other people, strangers to me, who were affected by Nan’s death.

“Do you need to get back to it? Nazi Peters will be on your case if you’re gone too long. She runs a tight ship ’round here,” Fred says with a sly wink.

I stand and take in a deep breath. “I guess I should. I’d love to chat with you another time, though?”

“Until next time,” he says and bows his head.

I nod. “Yes. You enjoy the sunshine.”

On my way back inside, I make a split decision to pop in and visit Mr Trouble. I haven’t seen him since that day. I should just visit him and then it won’t be a big deal anymore.

Drawing in a deep breath for courage, I knock on his open door and take a step inside. “Hello?”

A figure is seated in the dimly lit corner. “Hey,” he says, swivelling the chair around so I can see his face.

“Just thought I’d pop in and say hey.”

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