Roommates (Roger Taylor/Queen)

39. Now More Than Ever

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
'NOW MORE THAN EVER'

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IT HAD NOW BEEN THREE DAYS SINCE ROGER HAD GONE MISSING AND I WAS ABOUT THIS CLOSE TO PHONING THE POLICE. The boys kept assuring me he would come home; they seemed pretty confident about it. But the longer we heard nothing from him, the more anxious I was starting to get. Anything could have happened to him over the last couple of days and we wouldn't know. The very thought made me feel sick to the stomach but I couldn't help these thoughts from plaguing my mind, no matter how hard I tried to stay positive. If anything happened to Rog, it would be on my hands. I'd made many mistakes in my life, but I don't think I'd ever able to forgive myself for that.

Evening had set in and I was currently in the living room curled up on the couch, staring at the wall in front of me and biting my nails nervously with the telephone that usually resided in the hallway sitting on the coffee table. I'd decided to plug it in here in case the drummer decided to call or there was any news, although the likelihood of there being any at this rate was starting to look bleak. I hadn't slept or ate properly in days, the guilt wouldn't let me, which was obvious by my dishevelled appearance. But I didn't care, all I cared about was finding Roger, but being currently under strict instructions to stay put made by Brian that was easier said than done.

'We don't need you going missing too, love.' That were the guitarist's words when he came round to my place this morning. I'd been up all night, predictably, unable to rest because of my guilt ridden thoughts. I was about to head out and search for the drummer again, with the intention of checking hotels or B&B's in hope he was hiding some place nearby firmly in my mind. Brian, though, wasn't having any of it, 'Somebody needs to be here if he comes home.' he said, which was true enough. We'd already checked everywhere possible so I did as I was told, but I would rather be out there at least trying to fix the problem than sitting in here stewing in my own self-hatred.

Anyway, as I sat there lost in my thoughts, I looked down at my sketchbook that was sitting on the coffee table. Leaning forward and picking it up, I held it in my hands, the memory of that evening Roger gave it to me which felt so long ago coming back to me and making me smile. I entered the number combination and opened it up, flicking through the few pages which had been used.

I'd drawn mostly trivial things, like the flowers in the garden or the birds that often sat in the tree next to my bedroom window. I hadn't drawn at all lately, what with my mind being elsewhere. I continued to flick through it, looking back at the things that had taken my interest, until I came to the last drawing in the book which was of a peacefully sleeping Roger the same morning he asked me to perform a striptease for him. I shook my head and chuckled just thinking about it. Looking down at the drawing, I could only smile, although the longer I stared at it the more emotional I could feel myself become.

Gently running my fingers over the page, a stray tear landed on the paper, 'Please come home,' I whispered to myself. Sitting back, I held the sketchbook close to my chest and closed my eyes, sighing quietly and hoping for a miracle. Little did I know just minutes later my prayers would be answered when I heard the sound of a car pulling up outside which suddenly grabbed my attention.

I knew it wasn't Brian or John, they'd come over so often lately I knew the sound of their cars by now. But I knew this one too, so without any hesitation I put my sketchbook down and jumped up from my seat, before practically throwing myself over the side of the couch and rushing towards the window.