Heaven for Everyone (Queen/Roger Taylor)

19.

October 1992

The phone rings too early in the morning, but I'm already awake. I've been staring at the ceiling for ages, my mind a chaotic mess.  Cassie is curled up beside me with her hands tucked under her face. The phone rings loudly again, but she shows no sign of stirring.

"Cass," I murmur, "The phone."

This is the second night in a row that I've stayed at her flat. We're in the honeymoon phase of the relationship where we can't get enough of each other, which is made immeasurably more difficult by the fact that we both have kids, she has a job, and tomorrow I'm off to Montreux for a week.

"Cassie," I repeat.

She groans and stretches her legs against mine, opening one eye. "What time is it?"

"Early."

She opens both eyes and looks at me, running a hand lightly under my eyes. "You couldn't sleep again?"

"The phone, Cass," I say with a grin. 

She makes an indecipherable noise and begins the process of disentangling her legs from mine, finally sitting up. Her hair is a tangled mess, and her face has crease marks from the pillow. She's so goddamn beautiful, and I want the caller to fuck right off so that I can make love to her again.

"Hello?" Her voice is raspy with sleep. I hear a long exhale and watch her rub a hand sleepily over her face.

"Mitch, it's--" she looks down at her watch. "Half-seven. Is everything okay with Liv?"

After a moment, she looks over at me and rolls her eyes, and then refocuses her attention on the receiver.

"No, no, no," she says quickly. "Absolutely not. It's your weekend. I'm meant to pick her up from school tomorrow. You can't just--"

A pause.

"Oh, fuck off, Mitch, you know it's not because I don't want to spend time with-- you're an idiot, you know that? Why can't--"

Another pause. I cringe inwardly because I've had this conversation many times with Dominique, only I'm the one getting the bollocking.

"Spend the day with your daughter, you twat. I'll pick her up at 5 and save you from the apparently tedious task of being a father."

Another pause, this time longer.

"Oh, grow a pair."

Cassie angrily hits the button to end the call and then throws the receiver across the room. It bounces off the wing of an armchair and beeps angrily before falling to the floor with a clatter.

"You alright?" I ask after a long moment. Her naked back is towards me, sheets draped around her legs. 

"Yeah," she replies. "This always happens. He's always trying to switch up days to make his life more convenient."

I don't reply, because I can't say that I haven't been guilty of the same. Not because I feel like having a lie-in, mind you, but for years, my schedule wasn't my own.

"She loves him so bloody much, and sometimes he acts like she's just someone to be tolerated between his affairs and his business trips and whatever else he gets up to."

I reach out to run a hand across her lower back.

"Sounds like a first-rate rotter," I reply, earning a sideways glance and slightly amused grin.

It suddenly dawns on me that we've never really discussed what went sideways with her marriage. Instead, for the most part, we've shied away from discussing our past relationships.