Black line drawing of an acoustic guitar entwined with swirling scrollwork, roses, hearts and stars, in a botanical design for a tattoo.

Swirling guitar with roses and hearts

Botanical · Black and grey · Flash

A black line drawing of an acoustic guitar with a long curling neck, with scrolls, flowers, hearts and small stars around its body and edges. The linework varies in weight, with bold swirls and finer strokes, and the design is shown in solid black on a white background with no shading. The composition is asymmetrical, with the guitar angled diagonally and foliage-like curls extending to the left and right.

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Marguerite, you will think I have finally lost my wits, writing to you from the back of a Sunday coach with a guitar case across my knees like a sleeping dog. But Dad's old Yamaha is not coming back to the shed in Hebden Bridge, and I have decided it is going to the wedding, bolted to the chair if necessary.

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The bride's mother had views. She rang twice about the hymn sheet and once to ask whether I could play something that was not a song about a pub. I told her I had three hundred songs and every one of them had a pub in it. She did not laugh, but Tom did, which is why he is marrying Ellen and I am the one holding the strings.

We strung it on Friday night at the kitchen table, Ellen's nail varnish still wet on the bridge pins because she insisted on helping. I tuned it twice and it still sounded like a dog being thoughtful. Then she leaned over the soundhole and said the rose someone had doodled on the back of the programme looked like the curl at the top of the neck, and would I play something with a swirl in it. So I played the thing Dad used to play when the kettle was taking forever, the one with the wandering bass line, and she sat on the flagstones with her chin on her knees and did not move until the kettle shrieked.

I will play it tomorrow, Marguerite. Not for the hymn sheet. For the bit where the last chord hangs in the air over the lawn and nobody says anything for a second, which is the only bit of any wedding worth stealing.

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