Introducing Nigel (Chapter 3 draft)

Cole slid Jareth’s carpet-bag suitcase into the crowded overhead compartment with a grunt, then shifted the bag and pushed it to make it fit against the rest of the band’s single colored suitcases. When it was secured, he stepped back and stood at the opening of the train booth to look at the band. Vinnie, Richard, Nigel, and Jareth sat in pairs on each red bench. Richard was handing out playing cards, but not to Jareth who was looking out of the window at the exterior of the small private airport. 

Still, even now as they were returning to London, Jareth was sulking. Cole watched his reflection in the window and wondered to himself if  Jareth was waiting for someone to say something to him. Waiting for Cole to bite the hook and ask him what was wrong, so he may then say it was nothing and continue to punish the band with silence. Cole played out the interaction in his head and stared at Jareth’s pale blank eyes in the window’s reflection.

“Jareth,” Cole said.

Jareth turned his head to look at him.

“Are you ill?” he asked.

“No,” Jareth said.

“Well, you’re certainly acting ill,”

“Oh,” said Jareth. Then, he said nothing and looked away.

Cole took in a deep breath through his nose which puffed out his chest, then he let it out in a sigh. His mustache began to bristle, and he continued to watch Jareth. It was only then that he noticed everyone had gone very quiet.

“Right, well,” he said, “I’ll just be in the compartment over. If you’d like to order tea or anything go on ahead, it’s all covered.”

There were collective responses, and then Cole slid the wooden sliding door closed. He could still see them through a window in the door, which had the compartment number in green and yellow hand painted on it.

He went directly across the other aisle where an empty booth awaited him. He slid the door close behind himself and sat down on the plush bench. Cole crossed one leg over the other, then began to remove each white glove from his hands so he may fold them and slip them into the inner pocket of his coat.

The train was an old model from the 1940s with all the bells and whistles of the era kept in nearly perfect condition. A light bulb with a small lampshade and a pull chain were on either side of the cabin, just above the benches. Picture frames were hung showing black and white photographs of the train, and one of the conductors shaking hands with a man in a suit.

 The train’s whistle sang a long dissonant note, then, the train became light as the wheels were let go of their breaks and the slow chugging began. The bleak, blank exterior of the nearly abandoned airport rolled past the window, and the train entered a brick tunnel. The cabin went dark, then light again as they emerged on the other side. The train tracks cut directly through a temperate forest of green, and trees began to glide past the window.

In the other compartment, the lads laughed. Then, Richard said something at an impolite volume, and they laughed again. Cole listened to the muffled banter and he pictured them taking his suitcase from its spot and opening it up, then unfolding his clothing to have a look. They rejoiced, and joked, and laughed, and Cole sat alone on his bench watching the forest roll by. 

The night before, after the Sully show, Jareth did not say a word to Cole. On the drive back, on the walk to the hotel room, and even just before bed Jareth did not say a thing. Cole wondered if Jareth had felt abandoned that night. Cole had left him alone in the dressing room without assistance, and perhaps it frightened him. So much so that he was now giving Cole the silent treatment. 

Just then, the door to the cabin slid open and a slender older man with curly red hair and a pin striped dull-green suit stepped into the cabin. His face was fox-like, and the most important feature he possessed was a thick, well maintained handlebar mustache that curled at the tips. Cole’s mustache did not compare. 

Nigel was Jareth’s pianist, chosen after Jareth heard him play while scouting one of many studios for a recording spot. Against Cole’s better judgment, Nigel had remained Jareth’s pianist for eight years. 

Cole glanced at him, then looked out of the window again. Nigel sat across from him, and he too crossed one leg over the other. He stared at Cole’s face, and Cole did not look back at him. 

“You’re still wearing your wedding ring,” Nigel said.

Cole looked down at his hands. He had been mindlessly twisting his ring. He placed his palms flat on his thighs then looked back up at Nigel who was smiling at him with a closed mouth.

“Yes,” he said.

Nigel nodded, and said nothing more. Then, Cole’s brows furrowed at him.

“I’m still a married man,” Cole said. “She’ll certainly be home within the next month, she’s done this before.”

“Has she?”

“Yes, yes she’s mad. I think it’s from her family really. She’s got a brother in an asylum, you know.” 

“Mm, maybe she’s got voices,” Nigel said, and waved his hands beside his own head. Cole’s expression went stern. “Oh yea, that’s what they put birds away for. Voices or killing babies.”

“She hasn’t got voices,” Cole said.

“Oh, good,” Nigel said.

Then, neither man said anything for a while.

“Her mother and sister wore white to the wedding,” Cole muttered.

“Wretched,” Nigel said, and Cole let out a huff through his nose.

Cole leaned back in his seat and shook his head. For a long while both men watched the trees glide by. Then Nigel uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.

“Let me see your watch then.”

Cole looked down at his wrist where his watch was firmly strapped. 

Cole’s watch was a round faced, thick strapped watch that was a London exclusive make from 1951. The arms of the clock were gold, and so too were the notches to indicate each five minute mark. It was his first and only watch from the Gublenn watch company.

Cole’s father owned a well regarded watch company that sold their products exclusively in England. This made them highly sought after. When Cole was sixteen years old he had the luxury of being gifted one of these watches by his father. And since Cole was given the watch, he had not taken it off. Unless, of course, for a shower. 

He unlatched the leather strap and slid it off his wrist. Then, he handed it off to Nigel with the eggshell white face of the watch sitting on his palm.

Nigel plucked the watch and raised it up.

“It’s got a gold arm,” he said.

“I know,” Cole said.

Nigel looked at him, and smiled. Then, he held the leather strap straight and studied the darts.

“You’ve got small wrists,” he said.

Nigel held the strap up and tapped on the noticeably larger hold where Cole hooked the metal hinge.

Cole’s brows furrowed, and his mustache bristled. He placed his right hand over his left wrist to feel the empty spot, and suddenly wished to have his watch returned to him. He extended his arm with his palm up.

Nigel returned the watch.

“You could afford a better one,” Nigel said, and watched Cole’s face.

“This ones just fine,” Cole said.

Nigel hummed, and looked out of the window. Then, after some time he looked at Cole again.

“You’ve taken me to dinner.” he said. He grinned.

“Whatever do you mean?” Cole said. “Surely I have.”

“You’ve been managing me for years now, and you’ve not taken me once for a meal.”

Cole’s brow furrowed and he took in a breath which puffed his chest slightly.

“Well, I certainly don’t have much time to wrangle the band for supper whenever I like.”

“Ah, is that it?” Nigel said.

“Yes,” Cole replied.

Cole shook his head and looked out of the window at the gliding forest. He wondered, to himself, about the last time he treated the band to dinner. It was more than two Christmases ago. Cole pictured the band members in the kart over, playing their cards and chatting about him- and his failures as a manager. Richard would say;

“You know lads, I had to pay for all my own meals during that entire ordeal.”

To which Vinnie would say;

“I can’t remember the last time Cole’s paid for us outside of hotels.”

And so, the four men sent Nigel to straighten Cole out.

 He eyed Nigel, who was still looking at him.

“I’ll put something together, tomorrow,” Cole said.