It's fifteen past nine.  I smile to myself; the night is still young. 

I love Sundays, especially Sundays off tour.  There's just something so peaceful about them.  Maybe it's because we treat it as a holiday from each other.  Queen, I mean.  I love those guys, I suppose, but there are times when I would just prefer not to occupy the same room as they for even five minutes.

I'd spent all day with my family -went to church, walked about Hyde Park (such a beautiful day for a jolly stroll), played with my son Robert- but now, these heavenly twenty-four hours draw to a close, and at last arrives the moment I've been waiting for all week. 

I hear footsteps come down the hall.  It's my lovely Veronica, who's just left Robert's bedroom.  Robert's almost two years old in a couple of weeks; he gets bigger every time I see him.  Veronica's smiling, showing her dimples.  She nods.  The little nipper's finally asleep.

She saunters over oh, so seductively, and slips her arms around my waist.  I feel a shiver swoop down my spine.  Veronica's hands travel up my chest, begin unbuttoning my shirt.  I bend my head and kiss her, letting my own hands go astray upon her body.  She undoes the first three buttons, then stops, pulls away, drifts back toward our bedroom.  I'm caught by her sexy smile, beckoning me to follow.  Helplessly, I obey. 

Veronica disappears into the bedroom, but not before pulling her soft blouse over her head and tossing it carelessly on the floor by the doorway.  I am wasting no more time. 

I take one step forward.

BANG BANG BANG!

Someone's fist pounds heavily on the front door.

Now I'm torn.  There's someone at the door, but my wife is in the bedroom, and I'm more than just in the mood.  I rebel for once and take another step.

Then a voice seeps into my flat between knocks. "John, it's Fred!  Open up!"

Freddie!  Oh, shit.  Perfect timing, Fred.  Thanks a lot.  Still, suddenly I'm not quite so frisky as to ignore him.  At least it's not the other two.  With a heavy sigh, I call to Veronica, "One moment, love."

I trudge to the front door and fling it open.  I make no secret of my annoyance.  "What?"

Freddie hurries inside without asking to be invited.  "Hey, John, sorry for showing up unannounced like this.  But it's very important."

I look him over and I'm surprised at what I see.  He's pale, his eyes wide with some intense emotion- whether it's fear or anxiety I'm not particularly sure.  But there's guilt somewhere in the mix, unquestionably.  There's no mistaking the glint of guilt.

"What's going on?" I ask.  "Is it that Eve?"

"Sort of.  It's got to do with her."

I cough.  "No.  I'm not getting into this.  Sorry.  That's Roger's area."

"It's not what you think."

"Then what?"

"I need your help."

"My help?"

Freddie looks down, almost ashamed, like a small boy who is caught pulling a girl's pigtails at school.  I notice for the first time he has his hands behind his back.  He brings them into the light now, and I squint at what he's holding on his left hand.  It's odd little electronic pieces; there's a miniature circuit board, a keypad, a flat square battery of a kind I've never seen before- and a cracked green screen.  Just above this screen, the word "NOKIA" is stamped.

"What is all this?" I ask.

"It's, um- it's called a Relic.  She calls it that."

"That doesn't help."

"It's some sort of phone, all right?" he says, quick-tempered with nerves.

I take the jumbled bits.  "Never seen a phone like this."

"Well, yeah, it sort of broke, so-"

"How?"

Freddie's face flushes.  "That's not necessary, is it?"

"Yes, actually.  I gotta know how it was smashed up this way before we can go forward."

He sighs, bites his lip, then explains.  "We were out shopping, and her bag was open, and I saw it, so I pulled it out to look at it some more-"

"And you dropped it?"

"No.  Look at this thing.  I could drop it from an airplane window and there wouldn't be a scratch."

"Then, what?"

"It started making noise.  Little bip-bip sounds.  I was looking at it, and I didn't see where I was going.  I tripped over my own feet."

"Ooo," I say, wincing.  "And this went down first, huh?"

"Bam!  This hand was first to hit the floor.  Smashed to pieces, this clear part here cracked-"

"The screen?"

He snaps irritably, "Who cares?  Point is, it's f---ing broken and I need you to fix it for her- for us."  Then Freddie remembers what a jackass he's being, and he adds, "Please.  It means a lot to her.  Apparently it's like her Passport for something."

I try to give him a discouraging look.  "What did she say?"

"She doesn't know."

"You didn't tell her?"

"I said it was missing.  She's looking for it at my flat as we speak."

This is too much.  "Oh my God, Freddie-"

"Well, what would you do in my place?"

I forget to be careful, and talk to him like a friend.  "I dunno, but I wouldn't lie to her.  I know that much."

"I didn't want her angry at me.  I'd rather her have a mild breakdown than see me as a clumsy asshole." 

I stare at him, his lopsided logic defying my understanding.

Freddie doesn't appreciate being told he's taken the wrong approach.  He asks, "So can you fix it, you think?"

"I can't fix it tonight," I say.  I think of Veronica, who's waiting patiently fifteen feet away.

"You don't have to, so long as you fix it.  Can you?  You're my only hope."

I take a deep breath.  "Freddie, I'm not making any promises.  I've never seen anything like this in my life."

"But darling, you're an electrical genius!  You built your own amp, for God's sake.  This should be a breeze!"

"I'm going to try," I tell him.  To myself I marvel, This is new for me.  Never had to save your ass before. 

He smiles tightly.  "That's all anyone can ask."  For a minute it looks like he's going to go in for a hug, as he does with nearly everyone else, but instead he just puts his hands on my shoulders and stands there, as if he's leaning on me for support.  Maybe he is.

Suddenly he looks down at my collar.  His mouth curves suggestively, and he's Freddie again.  "Oh, dear, did I interrupt you two?"

He's staring at my open shirt.  I pull away, mortified.  "Oh, sod off."

Freddie laughs and starts for the door.  Before I can stop myself I ask, "So, is she your type?"

He glances back, and for the briefest of seconds his expression melts again.  He looks almost shy as he opens his mouth, then closes it, seemingly lost for words.  But he settles with a shrug and a wink.  Whatever message he's just sent has flown completely over my head.

Opening the door, Freddie waves and coos, "I'll let you two get back to work."  And he's gone.

I roll my eyes, and lay the phone bits on my desk.  I hardly know where to begin with this little monster.  I've never really tinkered with telephones, let alone cordless mini phones.  But Freddie is counting on me, and I'll die before I let him down.  I firmly believe he's the reason I'm in this band.  I owe him enormously.  I figure it's the least I can do.

"Is he gone?" Veronica's creamy voice floats in the air.

"Oh, he's gone," I reply.  I start walking her way.

"What did he want?"

"Nothing.  Just saying hello."  I'm in the bedroom, and there she is. 

Veronica holds out her hands.  "Come say hello to me."

I feel like the luckiest man in the world.  I seize her hands in mine and draw her soft white body up against me.  I love her so.

We kiss.  I gaze down into her sweet eyes and smile.  "Hello."