Memory Motel: A Rock And Roll Fantasy, Part Two Section Five, Hannah’s Lover

Written by | November 8, 2017 7:10 am | No Comments


Hell, his Mom was a huge fan, Phil used to play the Singles box set and tell me about his Mom dancing round with her hand like a mic and Mick Jaggerring as they swung round and round and round the living room, his day scowling in the distance. What did he think I was gonna do? It just happened, though why like that?”

Whatever you thought of Hannah, and considering her money she wasn’t a sloth exactly, she didn’t work but she wasn’t a junky fuck up unlike her mother, who was frivolous to the point where she destroyed the inner mechanism of the family unit she for which she was the titular matriarch, Hannah had a certain care about her…. At her wildest, she was careful and as a married woman of 25, she never put her marriage in jeopardy by being careless, by not maintaining the inner working of her own little family unit. She had never even considered being unfaithful or having an affair: she enjoyed between Phil and herself. Phil, a serious man working his way through the ranks of the LAPD, well loved and well respected. And she, a rich useless girl living off inherited wealth. But married to a man who didn’t care about her wealth in the slightest. There was nothing Hannah wanted to do to destroy it.

Many years later, after Hannah had been divorced for twenty years and was holding a séance (receiving messages), she held a conversation with a Great Great Grandmother of hers, and yes, unlike nearly everyone you might consider to be a psychic, Hannah treated her gift casually, like an extension of her friendship network, anyway what she told her far relation was, “I never wanted to sleep with Mick, but what was I supposed to do? The last thing I wanted was what happened to happen, but there was no controlling it: I think Phil should’ve forgiven me and raised Michele as his own. There was no reason for him to take it that far. There are rules to this life and rule number one is if Mick Jagger wants to fuck you, well, you let him”. And Hannah closed her eyes and flashed back to just how Mick Jagger he was. How fit even at his age, how lush and ripe and nearly rotten, wrinkled yet mythic and just for the moment of his attention so desirable so Mick so Mick…”

“But you divorced Phillip of course…” Her Great Great Grandmother had interrupted her. “So you will never know what he planned to do.” When Hannah was speaking to the spirit world it was like she was on the phone and you were listening into her half of the conversation. Michele had a slight interest in what would have been her stepfather –but she did have a slight interest in what would have been her stepfather. There was something about him as a character that interested her. It would have been fun to have had a real man in the household, not the drunk wastrels she called Uncle. One Uncle, a married man who spent his life renting boys for the night, sometimes her mother’s leftovers, the other Uncle a failed businessman who would have bankrupted the Fellows business in five years if he had been given the opportunity. Not exactly anybody’s idea of role models, her mother was a whack job, her Aunty absent for the most part living in Switzerland, and her Grandma a sensualist without much family love and happy to drift into her dotage using up young men for company and for ego and mostly for sex. Phillip would’ve been different maybe, a real man tinged with tragic overtones. So she had listened in, “What choice did I have? I’m not here to mother him, I am not here to be a crutch, he got what he deserved. I have the money and I didn’t marry him to carry that weight, a weight the money lifts off me, fuck him, he deserved it.” Michele thought to herself, “If it had been Mike, I’d have stood by him all the way.”

Hannah’s Great Great Grandmother sighed. “It was your loss, dear. Life is about experience, it would have saved both of you if you had saved him but it is done now.”

“He’d have left me.”

The night of the Stones gig at Felt Forum, Phil was working late trying to figure out a string of robberies in Silicone Valley and bailed on her. So Hannah and her friend, blue blood attracted to money, went to a private party being held for Mick before the show. He stood there so still, so handsome still, so certain of his command of everything around him, about him, surrounding him, five foot ten but he stood very straight, and he was lean and muscular without being bulky. His face looked tired but his body was lithe and athletic. Hannah didn’t say anything, she nearly 30 years old at the time and had never been lovelier, the lack of excess had left her, as Jagger had thought to himself as he noticed her, “really fit”. He also noticed the ring on her finger though those sort of things didn’t really matter to him. He was the king of the broken vow, never faithful, never understood it really.

And then it happened, and as far as Hannah was concerned, there were few happier moments in her entire life. She was staring at Mick and then she realized, and her heart almost stopped, and she felt excited and nauseous… Mick was staring at her. How to approach Mick Jagger? How does Mick approach you, it was as if with just a deep penetrating stare, Jagger had unlocked her libido because sex is fine but sex with Mick, just to be wanted by a man who knew women, a man loved by women, to want her was a sexual validation she had never thought she’d ever get. For a second she glommed on a story Phil told her, about being eleven years old and lying next to his Mommy in her bed while she recovered from chemo in late afternoons, and her mom would tell him, “Let’s have some Stones, kid. Devil can’t get us while we’re listening to Mick,” and Phil would put on the album, and his Mom would crawl into “Paint It Black” as though it was her death knell, as though it was the one song always waiting for her and and she would cry for herself a little and cry for Phil a little, completely aware where this was going but with neither time or energy or even hope to fix it, to get it right. “I never foresaw this thing happen to you.” She whispered to herself, dreams of love and lust and youth filtering themselves through the landscape, drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Perhaps Phil’s Mom is leading me into his arms, perhaps the only way I can make Phil complete is by completing the circle.” He didn’t approach her, somebody else did, special tickets to the side of the stage, after party, after math, would she care to? Yes she would.

It was like Hannah was in a dream world, it was a dream world really another world, Hannah felt like she was in a dream land, a place where these things happened, where she was the chosen one. Tall, statuesque long legs, very womanly. Blonde hair down, , supple, girly but not teeny, Hannah looked like something special, as though what she had was worthy of a God. She waited and waited for Mick to make his move, but he didn’t, he was being worked, it was business she could tell, he didn’t glance over or perhaps he did and she missed it. Her friend was talking but she could only hear her heart pounding. “I wish I had x-ray glasses. No, not x-rays, those one where you can see behind you. I wish I could look at him so I could see him looking at me without him seeing me look at him. Am I the sort of person you meet at certain dismal dull affairs? Is that who I am? Not me.” And she saw the ticket and the decal and the party invite in her bag, she imagined it nestled there like a promise already made.

Hannah wanted nothing more right that second than to know for sure, did Mick like her? She thought so, it seemed to… but what if she is wrong. Maybe he is just being kind and suddenly she felt crushed with the weight of a huge rejection, the biggest let down and she had to look across at him, had to see for sure if he was watching her. Getting up her courage she turned and faced him, looked straight at him, and Mick was looking at her, he smiled and gave her a little, hardly perceptible wave.
Looking back she knew it was the best sex ever, it was everything she ever wanted ever, Hannah was around 6’ 4” in her three inch heels, and after the gig they skipped the after party and helicoptered to the mansion Jagger was staying at, a Palace nearly as big as her Mom’s , definitely bigger than hers tennis court for tennis court, she towered over him when they danced in a ballroom to an American standards mix . Later still it was very raunchy and very very civilized, like weak English tea spiked with strong Scottish Whiskey.

When it was over, Hannah knew she was pregnant, she knew it as certainly as she knew Phillip would never have managed to get her pregnant and really, in her mind, it was over right that second between Phillip and her. At least as far as sex was concerned. As she entered a limo the following morning and drove away forever, she vowed to keep herself pure before delivering Mick’s son to the world. True, she got that part of it wrong but otherwise she was entirely right. No more Phil, Phil was gone, and though she’d had sex with her husband just a couple of doors ago, and there was no reason to cut him off, she felt as though it was a defilement. He’d have to be told, of course, but at least he’d have the honor of raising Mick’s son or he could go away, she didn’t much care anymore.

That’s how fast and irrevocably love can be lost, it happened with a glance and a wave of a hand and there it was, everything Hannah had thought she’d wanted she discovered she didn’t want at all, if Phillip was so keen on a family he should have had one. Yes, she was certain but she still waited till she’d missed her period and gone to the doctor and then she came back and you couldn’t say cool, you could say brutal, completely indifferent. “It is strange how she’s changed”, Phil thought to himself. “I have never seen her so cold, it is like she is something else, someone else, it is like her words sound alike shrug.”

More than the betrayal or the broken wow, what heard Phillip most was how it was like something in her wasn’t there. “I know you think it is crazy, Phillip” she said, her voice a frosty monotone, “But I don’t care what you think about things anymore. If you want to live here you can live here but we are no longer married to my mind, we are like friends, just friends. You had your chance to prove yourself and you couldn’t do it, could you?”

The pain of indifference so much worse than that of hate, she seemed to glow with absolutely untouchabibilty, absolutely impossible to be reached at all as though even the memory of love was gone forever. “I know you love me but I can’t be concerned with your feelings now, this is about me and my child, if you want to live here and are willing to raise a real man’s son, and don’t try to pretend you are in any way important or much more than a, I don’t know, someone I feel sorry for, than do so. If not..” Hannah shrugged. “Than I don’t care if you think I’m cruel, if you had been a real man it wouldn’t have been capable of happening.” She almost smiled. “So it is lucky you aren’t a real man, isn’t it?



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