HOW ON EARTH: A CONVERSATION WITH FREDDIE MERCURY

I was staring at my Merlin app, trying to identify an odd-sounding bird, enjoying a perfectly ordinary Tuesday afternoon at Camiral, while also wondering about my interview tomorrow. Freddie Mercury was due at two o’clock on Wednesday. I had my notebook ready, and most of Tuesday ahead of me. I thought I’d do a little aquagym, then get some work done on my novel.

 That’s when I realised the odd-sounding bird wasn’t a bird. There was no mistaking the famous tremolo echoing across the golf course.

 “Barcelonaaaaaa...”

 But it was Tuesday.

 I brushed my teeth, combed my hair and touched up my face as fast as I could.

 And there he was. Freddie Mercury, majestic in a red floor-length cape, striding through my garden as though he owned it while also looking slightly annoyed. Behind him idled three rather sheepish figures: Galileo clutching the broken remains of what must once have been a state-of-the-art telescope, Figaro wringing his hands and shrugging his shoulders repeatedly, and a very flustered man wearing a silver sequinned three-piece suit. Magnifico, presumably.

 At the bottom of the garden, behind the pool and underneath the poplar tree, waited four enormous dragons, each of them wearing saddlecloths embroidered with their names: Imperioso, Celeste, Grandioso and Strepitoso. They lifted their noses towards the sky and carefully blew out clouds of steam, clearly on their best behaviour.

The idea of having dragons in my garden is beginning to grow on me.

Freddie handed me a single red rose, took off his sunglasses, and took in the golf course beyond my house with what I can only describe as dignified resignation.

“Galileo,” he said, rolling his eyes, “dropped the telescope. We were heading towards the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. And I know today is Tuesday.”

He sat down on the blue-grey sofa on my terrace and crossed his legs.

“Darling,” he said, “Antoni Gaudí mentioned you fancied a word. And since there’s no time like the present, I reckon we just go for it!”

Francesca: Freddie Mercury! Welcome to ‘How On Earth’!

Freddie: Darling, I am delighted to be here. I’m all about making hay in the Spanish sunshine.

Francesca: Absolutely. But before we begin, can I ask you where you got the dragons?

Freddie: Ah yes, those fabulous creatures. Gaudí lent them to us: Imperioso, Celeste, Grandioso and Strepitoso. They’re a friendly bunch, as dragons go, of course. They tend to get a little hot under the collar. Strepitoso gave poor Magnifico a little turbulence over Girona, but I’m assuming it was because of Girona Cathedral having been used as a location for filming certain episodes of Game of Thrones. The dragons clearly knew about it, so I’ve told them to take Galileo, Figaro and Magnifico on a little pilgrimage while we chat.

Francesca: They’ll love it! Maybe they’ll see some of the Game of Thrones dragons, too.

Freddie: (calling back over his shoulder) Hallowed ground there, darling. Grandioso had tears in his eyes when Girona came into view. Go on then, boys! Enjoy yourselves!

(The dragons took off immediately, initially in the wrong direction, but it turned that it was only because they wanted to buzz the funny little wooden tower of my house. Such show-offs!)

Francesca: I understand Montserrat sent you? How is she?

Freddie: Ah, bless her! Yes, she did. And she is very well, since you ask. Her voice is still tremendous. She’s meeting us later on – we’re singing at the Sagrada Família. Gaudí has been asking for live music and Montserrat has been promising him a private concert for ages. She’s having her hair done as we speak. Curlers under the bonnet dryer, nails, the works. Such a diva!

Francesca: So that’s why you arrived singing Barcelona! I’m glad you did. Even if… well…

Freddie: It was stuck in my head all the way over. Montserrat and I were supposed to perform it together at the 1992 Olympics.

Francesca: I know… I’m so sorry. But tell me, how did you meet her?

Freddie: I was being interviewed on Spanish television in 1986, and I mentioned that I believed Montserrat had the best voice I’d ever heard. I’d been obsessed with her for years, so imagine my surprise when she rang me of the blue! I fell over, darling. Splat! Flat on the floor! And then we recorded that incredible album together. She’s such a lovely woman. Adorable.

Francesca: And then the Barcelona track from the album became the anthem for the 1992 Olympics.

Freddie: Yes. Though I didn’t make it to the Games, as you know. But the song was there. And Montserrat was there. Which means that I was there too, right?

Francesca: You certainly were. I remember having goosebumps. In fact, I’ve got a bad case of them right now. But I’m going to pull myself together because I promised this would be fun. Let’s talk about Bohemian Rhapsody.

Freddie: Ooh, yes!

Francesca: I used to listen to it in the student lounge at school. The cool kids played it on the jukebox. Not that I was a cool kid. I was just a poor girl. Nobody loved me.

Freddie: Easy come, easy go.

We both chuckled, then looked at each other for a moment.

Freddie: Something’s on your mind. Come on, tell me.

Francesca: I had a huge crush on a gorgeous boy. He seemed utterly oblivious to my existence.

Freddie: Oh, darling. I know. The pain…

Francesca: I went red each time I passed him. For years.

Freddie: Oh dear. Years? And nothing ever happened?

Francesca: Absolutely invisible.

Freddie: Well, I can certainly relate. I put it in the song. ‘I’m just a poor boy, nobody loves me.’ People think it was meant to be a dramatic lyric, but it was just the truth. Well, it was back then.

Francesca: The words are so simple, but so moving.

Freddie: Thank you. That song was written for people who felt like they didn’t belong. Or who felt things too deeply, or who were just, well, a bit different. So if you were sitting in a corner while the cool kids played Bohemian Rhapsody on the jukebox, then you were precisely the sort of person I wrote the song for.

Francesca: I’m trying very hard not to cry.

Freddie: Please don’t. Galileo bawled his eyes out about breaking his telescope, so I’ve had enough tears for one day. Besides, we haven’t got to the good part yet.

Francesca: What good part?

Freddie: That poor girl nobody loved. The invisible one dreaming about that silly boy. The one sitting with the cool kids who didn’t see her. What happened to her?

Francesca: Well, actually, she had a fling with the boy years later. Turned out he was just shy. And by then, otherwise engaged, as was she. Anyway, she also wrote two books. One of them is being published next year.

Freddie: There it is!

Francesca: What?

Freddie: We Will Rock You! That’s the other song for all the poor boys and the poor girls, for all the invisible ones. It’s the song I wrote for when they grow up, and they make something, and one day they walk back into that room and everyone knows who they are. We will, we will rock you. I never meant it to be a football anthem! I meant it to be a prophecy.

Francesca: Brilliant!

Freddie: Mark my words.

Francesca: I shall! Now, can we talk about your moustache?

Freddie: My moustache! I’d love to. What about it?

Francesca: When did you decide that was going to be your look?

Freddie: I woke up one morning and thought, Freddie, you are not going to be one of those pretty-boy pop stars. You are going to be the fabulous Freddie Mercury. The moustache confirmed it. The others hated it, obviously.

 Francesca: Oh no!

Freddie: Yeah. One of them said it looked gay. Whereupon I simply raised an eyebrow.

Francesca: I want to ask you about Live Aid. 1985. Many say it was the greatest live performance in rock history. I remember watching it in California, at my friend Joy’s house, halfway up a ladder with a paintbrush in my hand. You were incredible. Were you nervous?

Freddie: Well, yes. But then I thought, wait a minute; thousands of people, and a billion more watching at home. I have a message to deliver. I have to reach every single one of them. So I did.

Francesca: How?

Freddie: By being myself. I always strove to be utterly and unapologetically myself. People talked about presence, and technique, about how I owned the stage. I didn’t think about any of that. I just decided right from the start that I would never be small. Life is far too short to be small.

Francesca:  I think I might write that on the wall above my desk.

Freddie: Do it. In large, sparkly letters. Make a big sign out of it. Make it your motto.

Francesca: What are your views on today’s world? On music, on life?

Freddie: I think people are lonelier than they used to be, even if many are also much louder than they used to be. But they’re only loud because they’re lonely. As for music, there’s still loads of great stuff out there, so many fantastic voices. That will never change.

Francesca: And if you could come back for just one night, what would you do?

Freddie: Easy! I’d do Wembley with the full band and Montserrat.

Francesca: How amazing would that be!

Freddie: Yeah…But before I go, I have an idea.

Before I could ask about his idea, there was a whoosh of wings, and Montserrat Caballé landed by my pool on a hot-pink dragon called Rosa. She slipped off gracefully, and sashayed towards us looking like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Montserrat: (giggling) Best idea you’ve had in ages, Freddie, mi amor.

Then she kissed us both.

Freddie: (a massive grin on his face) Quick rehearsal before the Sagrada Família tomorrow night, love?

They performed a pitch-perfect Barcelona in my garden, Montserrat’s voice trilling notes that Mariah Carey could only ever dream of, and Freddie’s soaring to meet it, the two of them grinning with impish delight.

When the song was over, I clapped and then nobody said anything for a moment. Finally, Freddie turned to me, smiled, and began to stamp his foot slowly on the terrace’s wooden floor.

Goosebumps erupted all over my body as I recognised the rhythm.

Montserrat did, too. She joined in, clapping her hands.

And then Freddie Mercury pointed at me and sang:

 “We will, we will ROCK YOU.”

When it was over, Freddie fluffed his cape, offered Montserrat his arm and they both beamed at me.

Freddie: Keep writing, darling. The world needs more people who refuse to be small.

Montserrat: And do visit Barcelona again soon.

And then, in a sudden wild whirl of fire and steam, the dragons returned, bringing with them Galileo, Figaro and Magnifico, landing beside Rosa. The men looked far happier than earlier; clearly the Game of Thrones pilgrimage had gone down a treat. Freddie bowed to me, Montserrat touched her heart, and they were off, flying through the sky towards Barcelona, Freddie’s cape streaming behind him, Montserrat clutching at her hair, trying to keep it in place.

“Galileo, Galileo, Galileo Figaro — magnificooooo...” they sang, their voices floating across the golf course.

I watched them go until they were tiny specks in the distance.

I boiled the kettle, made a cup of tea, and thought about how very generous Gaudí seems to be with his dragons. I also thought about that poor boy who was too shy to do anything about his crush on me for so many years.

Hopefully he won’t be too shy to buy my book.

 😎 

I hope you enjoyed this episode of How On Earth. If you read my conversation with Antoni Gaudí, you may now be wondering what happened when they all met up at the Sagrada Família. Also, was Figaro having his wedding there?

 My thoughts exactly!

 With love and gratitude,

Francesca xx