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It was ridiculous how long companies expected you to wait on hold these days. With her mobile on speakerphone so she could free her hands to continue preparing dinner, Caitlyn vented some of her frustration on the carrots and beans. With precision, she sliced and chopped, the cutting board shuddering under the impact of the knife.

Her mouth formed a grim smile of satisfaction as she thought of the feedback she’d be providing about her customer service experience. Everyone wanted feedback these days. Whilst she usually couldn’t be bothered, the irony of having to call a service provider and having to wait indefinitely whilst being subjected to interminable music, interspersed with cheery reminders about self-service options online, was enough to push her over the edge. It was likely that the call would finally be answered by someone in another country, which only added to her irritation.

But then she stopped. Knife poised midair, her mouth opened in a circle of surprise as her ears registered the music coming through the phone’s speakers. Could it be? Caitlyn rested the knife on the bench and scooped up the phone, holding it tight as she lost herself in a moment that had been buried under the weight of hundreds of days, of memories cherished and otherwise.

It had been her Pop’s favourite song in his later years, and quite an unusual choice, as his preference was more likely to be something from an opera. But he made an exception for ‘Imagine’ by John Lennon. For as long as Caitlyn could remember, her Pop had put in a birthday request to his local radio station to play a song. They would oblige, and would play his selection on the early morning show. Her Nana would wake her gently, and she’d go through to the kitchen to sit at the table to hear the announcer wish her Pop a happy birthday, and play the selected song. She’d watch her Pop, who would sit with a cup of tea in front of him and his eyes closed as the song filled the room, a soft smile on his lips. With her eyes closed, Caitlyn could feel the warmth of the memory, of quiet gratitude and the sharing of a special occasion with music.

‘Thank you for your patience. How can I help you today?’

With a jolt, Caitlyn’s eyes opened, and she stared down at her hands, momentarily jarred by the voice coming out of the phone.

‘Are you there? Hello?’

With a quick shake of her head, Caitlyn took the phone off speaker and lifted it to her ear. She proceeded to outline the connection issue, and patiently answered a raft of questions and endured further stretches of time on hold. A sense of contentment stayed with her, and after the issue was resolved, she stayed on the line to provide positive feedback. Caitlyn was still smiling as she finally ended the call.

This piece was written to a prompt on the Writer’s Digest website. Long Lost Melody: write a story where music ignites a forgotten memory.

Photo: an old fashioned radio