Saturday, 7 May 2011

Ch 30: Someone Like You

The TV talent show was over. Finnito. Everybody was a happy bunny. It was probably time for Match of the Day but suddenly Gene had little interest. He stared at the envelope in his hands, turning it over and over, seeing the handwriting on the front. “Gene” written in a blue pen. A familiar handwriting, one had seen time after time. A girly handwriting, and not one that belong to that puff Skelton. He realised Sister Maggie had been gone some time. Bloody Hell, where was this outdoor off licence? He was gagging for a drink right now. He stood up and walked over to the kitchen. Thank Christ, some scotch was in the cupboard. Pouring himself a large glass, he walked back to the sofa, bringing the half empty bottle with him, and sitting back comfortably he took a large swig befor leaning back and ripping the envelope open under the lights of the twinkling tree. He knew who it was from before he even started reading, he had always known….

“My Dearest Gene,

The time is fast approaching, not long now to go. You have done so well, and come so far. Never forget that. No matter what happens. I am hoping, wishing, and praying that you make it. Do you remember when we first met? It all seems so long ago now….well really if you think about it….it IS. A lifetime ago. You thought I was a prostitute, and so you continued to treat me like one, well at least as an inferior being anyway. A woman. Yet that’s what I am, Gene. A woman. A strong, confident woman, who has balls, and guts. I take no crap, from nobody. I suppose you calling me Bollyknickers well, it’s your way of showing affection for me, because I know you care Gene. You always did. You still do. Yet you’re a man. And men, believe it or not are from Mars, just like Sam Tyler, whilst women are from Venus. I am your fire, your desire. Of course, we are both different, in the way we go about things, yet the ultimate goal is usually the same. Oh I know you’ve had your fair share of women Gene, you’re a woman’s man. A real man, yet I don’t think you had ever found Miss Right, not until you met me. Of course, you didn’t know it at the time, not straight away. And I couldn’t stand you, I thought you were obnoxious, arrogant, a bit of a bastard actually. You really got on my tits at times. Hark at me, Alex Drake using language from the gutter. But Gene, you know me better than that. You know I am classy. A one-off. Special. Like no other woman you have ever met. We came close didn’t we. More than once. If only we had made the effort then…..mind you, I always thought I did make the effort, you know, I was always the one going that extra mile, whilst you, you just sat back, watched it happen, some smouldering looks here, a grope there. Lusting after me, like some sex object, no better than that common prostitute…. I think towards the end though you knew. You knew the way I was feeling. If Keats hadn’t turned up that night….Oh if only…..but it wasn’t meant to be Gene, not then. Who knows why. Who knows anything anymore. I know that I was shot for a reason. And that was…to meet someone like you, Gene. Someone like you. I know I was happy, I had Mollie, yet something had always been missing from my life, and that something was you. And you know it. Yet you won’t admit it, Mr Hard Man, Gene Hunt, the Manc. Lion does not do sentimental crap, emotion, or love. No. Gene Hunt separates himself and just keeps on. Yet you told me once Gene, do you remember, that you wanted me, you wanted somebody who cared . Do you remember that Gene? Do you remember all those things you said once, in a drunken stupour somewhere, I can’t quite remember actually if it was on my sofa one night when you kipped down, or in the vault when we were getting a little hot and steamy. Do you remember my red underwear Gene? Well, I still have it. In fact, I am wearing it right now, under my clothes. You wanted me Gene. You still do. Yet you are stubborn at times. And childish. And you can be so selfish, and secretive. Oh I may as well have a go. I can hear you thinking now…what is this - have a stab at Gene Hunt day? Well actually, yes it is Gene. Because the day of reckoning is soon to be upon us and I need to get everything off my chest. You need to know. I am tired, darling Gene, soooo tired. It’s been a long journey. You once asked me how I felt, do you remember that? You were teasing, coaxing, goading me into saying something I really didn’t want to, not then. I wasn’t ready. Sometimes I wished I hadn’t . I tried so hard I really did. To be the person you wanted me to be. But I couldn’t win. Classy Bolly, Tarty Bolly, Gutsy Bolly, Reserved Bolly. Got on with my work, for my Guv. The best Guv I ever had. And what did you do? Oh well the usual man thing. Go into his cave when he didn’t want to speak. Go out and get bladdered. Switch of his phones so I would think they were broken. Or that you were alone. When you weren’t . Maybe shacked up with some bird you picked up, or the elusive Mrs. Hunt, the one I thought you had mentioned divorcing at some point…was that way back in 73? See Gene, if I were a boy, I would do exactly that. It’s what men do, along with lying, cheating, ecetera. Only I am not a man. I am a woman Gene. And I so want to believe in you. That you are honest, open, and genuine. Do you remember when you saw me with Ray, dear sweet man? You were jealous. Don’t deny it. You were. Because you wanted me for yourself. So Gene. How’s the campaign going. Do you think you are closer now to having me? Do you think you are getting nearer? I can see you are making some effort my darling, but frankly it’s not quite enough. Of course you saved my skin so many times…I can’t thank you enough, yet you stopped me from being with the person I loved most, my Mollie. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for that. Unless you prove it to me. Unless you prove your undying love for me. That’s if you do care. And you are not just stringing me along, as you have done since 1981. I suppose given the fact that you are still hanging around is a good sign. After all, you have almost completed your mission. You have saved Ray, Chris and Shaz from their fates. You have reversed time, and are on the way to redeeming your soul. Yet have you asked yourself who is going to be the one that save you? Only you can decide your own fate Gene. I have been watching you, and been with you every step of the way, though I suppose you know that. I have, quite naughtily thrown in little testers along the way, some you have fallen for , some not. You are a wise man Gene. I was a little scared when you ended up in the Gay Village, but I knew you were not really batting for the other side. Not my Gene. All man. A pretty hunky one at that too. Am sure all those gay boys love you. But do you love me Gene, I mean really love me, as much as you are now saying you do? I suppose it’s actually quite difficult to tell, I mean after all, if one was to look back at our life together, well, let’s face it, it wasn’t really real was it. All a fantasy if you ask me. You’re the king of wishful thinking Gene. I watched you cry at Princess Diana’s funeral, your arms around Maggie, ah yes Maggie, she of the flame-haired. I noticed you with her, looking at her, holding her, and I wondered. Does this man really care about me? I noticed how you didn’t post a letter to me in that special post-box, the one left standing when the bomb hit town. Not one. Nothing. You may have tried to call me on the phone. But words are cheap Gene. Actions speak louder. And it’s actions I want now. I have seen you go soppy with that little girl. It’s as though she was the daughter you never had. What happened to her Gene? You were upset I know when she vanished. To me that proved that Gene Hunt wasn’t like a character from the Wizard of Oz. Gene Hunt had a heart. And it was at that point I knew.

Of course I am not saying that if we meet up at the end of all this, and you find me it will all be plain saling. We shall be like any other normal couple, we will have our rows, and disagreements, just like we did, back in the 80s. In fact, we will probably have to start all other again. Like good old fashioned dating. Can you woo me Gene? I know you can, remember at Luigis….? That night, it was magical. I imagine we would have ended up in bed together, I know that much is true. Yet it’s not going to happen straight away Gene. This isn’t about sex and you know it, well not just sex. Of course we will have the passion, and maybe some of those things from our fantasy world, but remember Gene we will be in the real world. You can take me to that nice Hotel, you know where Jim Keats took you the other day. Wow, that looks like a classy place for me, sophisticated and elegant. Yes I can see us both up there, you with your bit of posh totty, so high, like being in Heaven. We will drink champagne, Bollinger of course! There is a place for us, somewhere, Gene, there is a place for us. All those love songs, the clich├ęs, listen to them Gene. Listen to what they are telling you. Where they are guiding you. We are all victims at some time or other, of love. And when it goes wrong it hurts, like hell. People don’t talk for hours, weeks, months, sometimes years on end. Two people as though they never really knew one another, never shared happy times, dreams, secrets. Do you want to be a person like that Gene? Alone. Growing into a lonely, grumpy old man. Without the love of a good woman. A woman who wants you, needs you? You will never find someone like me Gene. Never. Never. Never.

I will have to end this soon as I am feeling a little tired. You have seen me in many ways Gene. As I said, confident, happy, sad, and also vulnerable, like a frightened little girl. Yet Gene, you are the one who is frightened. You fear what is going to happen to you now. What will happen if you stay, as you are in, in limbo, forever? Will you remain with Danny, and Maggie, whoever she is? Will you fall in love with somebody else? Or will you just use women for your pleasure and cast them out on one side when you have finished? Clingy women who bleed you dry? Is that what you want? Of do you want a woman who knows where she is going and what she wants out of life, with drive, ambition, passion. Prove Jim Keats wrong Gene. Show him you have balls. Show him you really care for me. Or does he win? Again.

As for me…well who knows. There’s always Raymondo….he’s quite cute I suppose. A little foursome with Shaz and Chris, yes that could work quite well. We often shared stuff Ray and I, and I loved it when he gave me a bite of his battered sausage. Ouch! Did that hurt Gene? You see Bolly is still there, the gutsy Bolly, with the balls, taking no crap. Nobody puts Bolly in a corner….oh which film was that from….Dirty Dancing, or was it Ghost? You still have to finish your mission Gene. Do the right thing. Perhaps you should pray. Maybe say the Lord’s Prayer, Gene. I think you are going to need it, to keep the faith. Though shall not lead us into temptation but deliver us from evil…..oh Gene, you may have one more temptation to face…..I fear…

In the coming week’s Gene you have a decision to make. You are at a crossroads, and you have a choice of two roads. Choose wisely. If you choose the wrong road you will never find me ever again and I will remain a fantasy in your head, a fiction of your imagination, something what might have been, if only…… Choose the correct path, follow that yellow brick road, and surely that will take you, somewhere, over the rainbow, way up high to your Dorothy, who will be waiting there, wearing her red shoes (and if you are lucky, some red underwear too). Gene and Alex = Soulmates. And hence this little charm I have left you with this letter. It’s just a little token but it’s half of something, like a jigsaw puzzle. When you find the person who holds the other half you will find your soul-mate. If it’s me, then I’ll be here, right here waiting for you, Gene. And if it’s not, then fair enough. So be it. But ‘ll just have to say if that is the case, I would wish you well, and I will just have to go out and find myself another Gene Hunt, someone like you.

All my love, and a Happy Christmas, until the day we meet Gene, I will be thinking of you.

Love Alex xxx
PS: I love you Gene Hunt xx (too soon to say it but in case we never get the chance…..)

PPS: The tree looks lovely, so well hung! Fire up the Fairy Lights!


The air, that hung eerily silent was broken by the sound of somebody singing Christmas carols somewhere. At midnight.

Gene Hunt was still. Crying silently. Tears flowed down his face, like the snowflakes that had started to fall from the night sky outside. He looked at the little charm in his hands. One half of another, somewhere out there….he needed to find it…..

That eerie silence…Hush….oh sooooo quiet.

The calm before the storm.

A gust of wind suddenly blew from somewhere. Gene looked up.

There was the banging of a door.

The fairy lights suddenly flickered on and off, twice before a loud bang, and they suddenly went off altogether, blowing a fuse. BANG!

But not before Gene had seen who was stood before him, two plastic carrier bags in her hand.

Maggie.

Not Sister Mary Magdalene.

But Maggie, her with the flame-coloured hair.

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