The Sound of Trees

Nine small frosted-coated panes of glass framed in thin black strips of iron met James Perry's gaze and he pushed them open to look out on the Surrey downs. It was February the fourth, nineteen-seventy-seven and the scene that met his eyes was one of leafless trees under grey clouds and a small patch of green off to his left. From the kitchen below he could hear Mrs. Osborne making his breakfast, so he got dressed and left his tiny room to see what the day held in store.

“I could hear you playing your guitar yesterday,” Mrs. Osborne said, plunking a plate of ham and eggs down on the table.

“Oh sorry. I hope it wasn't too loud.”

“Not at all, dear. At first I thought you had your radio on, but then I realized it was you.”

“Quite the compliment, Mrs. O.”

“You know, a lot of musicians have stayed in that room. There was one that was in a band, I think his name was Peter.”

“Do you remember the name of the band?”

“Genesis?”

“Peter Gabriel stayed in the same room as me?

“Yes, that was his name. Peter Gabriel.”

“Wow. They're really famous now you know.”

“No. I didn't know. So what do you have planned for today?”

“I have class today. Life drawing. Naked young women and all that.”

“And afterwards?”

“Oh you know, kicking around London. Eating fish and chips in the Tate cafeteria.”

“Well, don't drink too much beer. It's not good for you.”

“Thanks for the breakfast, Mrs. O. I'll see you this evening.”

James strolled past the large ornate clock that jutted out over Guildford's High Street, made his way to the train station and bought a ticket to Waterloo.

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This book is 14,235 words long.