Page 45 of Lost in Translation
‘You don’t look too shabby yourself,’ she replied. Jürgen wore cream chinos, and an artfully crumpled — or possibly un-ironed — white linen shirt which emphasised his tan. He carried nothing; presumably the tickets and other essentials were tucked in a pocket.
They followed the crowd towards one of the entrances to the stadium, Charlotte already feeling sweaty despite a liberal application of deodorant.
‘All is OK at home?’ Jürgen placed his hand gently on the small of Charlotte’s back, guiding her through the ticket checkpoint. A security guard quickly scanned the contents of her bag before giving them a nod to proceed.
‘Yes, all good. The boys persuaded Dom to take them to a new burrito place in Vevey, then I guess they’ll watch some TV, or whatever.’ Apart from one jibe about missing out on the beer and bowling night, Dom had said little, only that he hoped Charlotte enjoyed herself. She fully intended to.
The atmosphere in the stadium was electric. A buzz of anticipation zinged through Charlotte’s body as the sound and lighting crews made their last checks. People flocked to the front of the stage, but Jürgen pointed to an area on the left. ‘It is quieter here, and we still have a magnificent view. Plus there is a beer tent within easy reach!’
Having no desire to get caught in the crush, Charlotte followed Jürgen to a grassy area which was relatively clear of bodies. Checking what she wanted to drink, Jürgen queued for a few minutes, returning with two beers in plastic cups. ‘Not the finest you will ever taste, but it is cold and wet. Prost!’ He raised his cup, and Charlotte tapped hers against his.
The show kicked off with ‘Bennie and the Jets’, Elton on fine form and loving the enthusiastic reaction from the fifteen thousand spectators. Charlotte whooped and cheered as each song ended and a new one began. From time to time she glanced at Jürgen. His expression was focused, his attitude less exuberant, but when he looked at her his features softened. As did the knot of residual anxiety in Charlotte’s stomach which, along with relentless Elton John earworms, had kept her awake most of the night.
Charlotte fetched two more beers around the halfway mark; as they were both driving, they needed to keep within the limit. Jürgen bought two hot dogs slathered in ketchup and portions of piping-hot French fries.
‘Delicious,’ she declared, taking a hearty bite of hot dog. ‘I can’t remember the last time I had one of these. Probably on holiday somewhere with Dom and the boys.’
‘Marcus would eat hot dogs every day if he had the chance,’ replied Jürgen. ‘It is remarkable he stays so slim considering his liking for fast food.’
‘Ah, but he’s very sporty, isn’t he? And I guess he takes after you in terms of physique.’ Charlotte gulped down a mouthful of beer, wishing she could also swallow her comment. Jürgen grinned and patted his stomach. ‘A loose shirt hides a multitude of sins, Charlotte, but I do my best.’
There were times during the concert when Charlotte’s emotions got the better of her. ‘Candle in the Wind’ brought a massive lump to her throat, as did ‘Your Song’. At one point, Jürgen took her hand and raised it aloft, both of them swaying to the melody. When the song ended, he didn’t let go.
‘I think it’s the finale,’ whispered Charlotte as Elton sat down at the piano and the familiar opening bars of ‘Goodbye Yellow Brick Road’ echoed around the stadium. The audience sang along, a montage of images projected on the giant screen of his life in music, his charitable works, and at the end, his husband and two young boys.
Still grasping Jürgen’s hand, Charlotte marvelled at Elton’s incredible journey from troubled childhood to global megastar. What would her legacy be? Nothing as attention-grabbing or noteworthy. Just an ordinary woman who’d tried her best to be kind, adored her children, and…
Charlotte slipped her hand free and watched as people stamped, screamed and begged for more. They were caught up in a moment, a slice of history they’d relate to family and friends. ‘We were there. It was incredible, like travelling through time. Unforgettable.’
Elton hadn’t finished. He addressed the audience, exhausted but exhilarated by the love swirling around the stadium. ‘I am sick to death of hatred, of racism and homophobia,’ he said, breathless yet filled with passion. ‘We should appreciate each other, we need to embrace everyone even if we do not agree with each other.’
Charlotte clapped as hard as she could. Jürgen clapped next to her, and the applause all around them made her ears ring. Then Elton took his last bow, and it was all over.
‘Wasn’t that incredible?’ Charlotte kept close to Jürgen as they made their way to the nearest exit. She stumbled as a stocky youth barged past, his elbow connecting with her ribs. Jürgen wrapped a steadying arm around Charlotte’s shoulder, the heat from his body welcome as the night air cooled.
‘He is the ultimate showman,’ agreed Jürgen. ‘It is sad he is retiring, but I am glad we saw him before he did.’
‘Hmm, unless he wallops through his money and makes a comeback. Didn’t Cher retire years ago? Yet she keeps popping back up.’
‘I think for some performers it is the draw of the live audience that they miss.’ Jürgen pulled Charlotte closer as they edged through the crush at the gates. ‘It is an addiction, I suppose, just like drugs and alcohol.’
‘Well, Elton certainly had his fair share of those!’ said Charlotte, recalling the scenes inRocketmanwhere he’d doused his cereal with vodka and snorted endless cocaine. It was a miracle hewasstill standing.
Jürgen insisted on walking Charlotte to her car, even though they’d parked in opposite directions. He’d removed his arm when the crowds abated, and Charlotte missed its solid comfort. He was just being a gentleman, nothing more.
‘It was good to see you smiling tonight, Charlotte.’ Jürgen faced her as she fumbled in the pocket of her bag for the car key. ‘I hope things are OK at home, and that I can see you again soon.’
Charlotte found her key and purse and tried to hand over a wad of notes to pay for the ticket.
‘Please, there is no need. The pleasure is all mine. Now, drive carefully and take care.’ He kissed her goodbye and set off toward his own car.
Charlotte sat in the driver’s seat for several minutes, reflecting on the evening. It was one of the most enjoyable she’d had for a while, but was that down to the concert, or the company?
Chapter 38
‘Didyou have a nice evening with Daddy?’
It was the morning after the concert, and Charlotte was home alone with the boys. While it was the weekend, Dom had taken himself off to an electrical store to buy cables and other paraphernalia.
