This was a piece that I wrote after a gig – it struck me that musicians have a special relationship with their instruments.
He held her in a loving embrace. She was taller than him by a good few inches and leant back into his shoulder nestling into his neck. They curled elegantly around each other. He tweaked and played with her, stroked her neck, slapped her side. The crowd were transfixed. They felt like they had stumbled upon an intimate moment. The rest of the band was oblivious – they each had their own love affairs going on. The beat picked up and the slapping continued. The audience roared its approval.
As the set carried on the music rocked and rolled and rocked again to keep the audience on the edge of their seats. The boy leant in close to his double bass in the slow numbers and murmured into her neck and flung her out with a spin when the beat quickened.The finale saw a majestic pirouette then as quickly as the boy had been to stroke and caress his bass, he let her go and lay her down on the sticky pub floor. The boy’s girlfriend came up to help clear up. She held the double bass’s cover up to throw over its’ head. The boy took it from her hands, kissed his girl on the cheek and said, “I’ll do that,” and lovingly tucked his bass away. His girl stepped aside and just stared at them. Her eyes gleamed in the stage lights. As the boy zipped up the bass’s case his girlfriend glared. She felt jealousy bubbling up inside her.The boy put his arms around her and whispered in her ear. “Thanks for coming tonight.” She smiled and declenched a fraction – there were some things she could do which his double bass couldn’t. Her smile froze. He let go of her and picked up his bass to carry in both arms. She frowned again. The three of them left together.