Summer Of '75 (Roger Taylor/Queen)

Chapter 1

Rusper, England, 2nd of June 1975

I was awoken by the sound of chattering voices and frantic footsteps echoing throughtout the old medieval farmhouse. My eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the bright sunlight pouring through the curtains and illuminating the bedroom before sitting upright, yawning loudly. The noise from downstairs continued - what was all the commotion about? I found the motivation to climb out of bed, the old metal frame creaking slightly as I did, and made my way over to the window, pulling back the curtains. Sure enough, the place was bustling as I looked down upon on the front yard, which was littered with people. The only time the farm was ever as hectic as this is when we have an arrival - there wasn't an arrival today, was there?

My thoughts were soon interrupted as I heard a set of footsteps hurrying up the stairs and down the corridor, stopping just outside my room. There was a soft knocking on the door before opening slightly to reveal the face of my mother.

'Oh good, you're awake. Good morning, darling.' she said with a smile.

'Morning, Mum,' I replied, 'What's with all the racket downstairs?'

She looked at me confused, 'Don't you remember? We have an arrival today. It's all your father has been talking about for the last several months.'

'My head must be in a different place today. I completely forgot.' I sighed, mentally slapping myself. I glanced at my calendar on the wall - sure enough marked on today's date - it said in capital letters 'Arrival Day'.

'Anyway, I came to make sure you were up and about.' my mum told, 'The horses need groomed, fed and turned out into the field. The stalls will need mucking out too, although I'd advise you to wear more suitable clothing.'

I looked down at my current outfit I wore to bed consisting of a t-shirt and pair of shorts. I laughed, 'As if I would actually muck out the stables in my pyjamas. And I tend to them every day when I'm here, Mum, there's no need to remind me.'

'I know that, Amelia, but today is a very important day and I want to make sure that everything is perfect for when the band arrives. So get a wriggle on, they'll be here in a few hours!'

'Alright, alright I'm getting ready!' I assured her and with that, she closed the door behind her and hurriedly made her way back down the stairs again. I know she means well, but when it comes to arrivals my mum can get a bit tense about everything and with everyone - and don't even get me started on my dad. They were trying to make the best impression possible, which is understandable given the fact we'd be having one of Britain's biggest rock bands staying under our roof for a month here at Ridge Farm.

I guess I should tell you a bit about myself and explain everything more thoroughly. Firstly, my name is Amelia-Rose Andrews, but when it comes to my first name I preferred to be addressed as Amelia; much less of a mouthful to say. I'm 23 years old and I'm from the small village of Rusper in West Sussex, England. As you have probably already guessed, I live on a farm, called Ridge Farm, just outside the main village. It's a quaint part of the world, with green meadows and countryside as far as the eye can see. I've lived here all my life, and always look forward to coming back home to visit from London, where I trained to be a veterinary nurse. I graduated from university only a few weeks ago and am currently taking a well deserved break at home, before I head back up to London to start work.

As you probably noticed from my earlier statement, this isn't just any ordinary farm. My father, who was given this place by my grandparents, has spent the last couple of years converting the barn beside the house into a top of the range recording studio, which has attracted many musicians to visit and try out the facilities on offer. My dad was a lighting technician, you see. He'd travelled around the world and worked with a number of bands over the years and always had a passion for music. However he always wanted to be more than a technician, so building a recording studio on his own property made that dream become a reality for him.