Only One Woman

by Christina Jones

  ‘Oh!’ Eva waved. ‘Hi, Mo!’

  ‘Hello, Eva!’

  Mo? I sat up, watching as he uncurled his long legs from the driving seat and wandered towards us. It was lovely to see him.

  I grinned at him. He was wearing cut-off jeans and nothing else. His muscular body was really brown and his wild Bolan-curls were even longer and wilder. He looked like a proper rock god crossed with a surfer boy.

  ‘Stella!’ He smiled broadly. ‘Great to see you again. Glad you got here safely. Where’s Scott?’

  ‘Writing to Renza.’

  ‘Ah.’

  Ah, indeed.

  He dropped down beside me. ‘Do you hate her?’

  ‘Renza? No of course not. Nothing’s changed. She’s part of Scott’s life, not mine. If she could be here, she would be and I wouldn’t. But I am, and she’s still in her box.’

  Mo laughed. I knew Eva was listening. I didn’t want to talk about Renza.

  Mo luckily changed the subject and chatted about how he’d come over to let Scott know he’d pick him up as usual tonight for the Lords gig, and explained to me that he lived quite close by with his parents, while both Zak and Joss lived in St Helier near the club.

  Scott, also stripped to the waist like Mo and equally brown and muscular, but even more devastating, wandered out into the garden then, carrying bottles of something called Oranjeboom and a glass of squash for Holly.

  He handed round the drinks and sat beside me on the beach towel. I wanted to touch him but didn’t. Eva took her beer and gave him a hard stare but said nothing.

  ‘Just been telling Stella that I’ll pick you up at 7 tonight,’ Mo said. ‘Thought she’d need a bit of advance warning. Cassie always takes ages to get ready when we’re going out.’

  I frowned. ‘Me? Getting ready? Am I going out?’

  Scott and Mo both laughed.

  ‘You thought I’d be leaving you behind?’ Scott shook his head.

  ‘Sorry, Twinkle – this is how your evenings are going to be from now on – Lords every night.’

  Wow! ‘Really? I thought… well, I just thought…’

  ‘Don’t think,’ Scott hugged me. ‘I want you to be there.

  OK?’

  More than OK. I looked at Mo. ‘Er – will Cassie be there too?’

  Mo shook his head. ‘No, she’s not that into the band to be honest. She turns up some nights with her friends but I think she finds it a bit boring after a while. And Joss and Zak are still playing the field with the holiday-makers so you’ll be our sole resident cheer leader.’

  I wanted to laugh out loud but decided that would be far too juvenile, so I just smiled to myself. Lords! With Scott! Every night! Wow!

  Stella’s Diary

  May 18th 1969 – Lords

  We arrived at Lords, in the middle of St Helier, at about 7.30. Like most clubs I’d been to, it looked like nothing from outside: just a door in a building in a side street, with a rather over-embellished name sign above it that would probably glow garishly neon-bright in the dark.

  Lords didn’t open until 8, and Scott held my hand as we, with Mo, walked inside, past the currently empty payment booth and cloakroom hatch, and into the club-proper. It was a bit of a shock, stepping into the cool, dim club straight from the still-scorching blue-sky-and-sunshine outside.

  I was bubbling with excitement – the “I’m with the group” thing still entranced me – and gazed around at the dark, gothic interior.

  I’d never seen a totally empty club before, and as I’d guessed it was like walking into Dr Who’s Tardis. It was huge, and looked like a massive cave hewn from the local granite but probably wasn’t. Millions of tiny pinpricks of light flickered from crevices in the uneven walls and ceiling giving it a constantly moving iridescence.

  The stage – already set-up with Narnia’s Children’s equipment – was straight ahead, with a low-lit curved bar area with tables and chairs to the right, and a very impressive DJ’s glass-fronted booth half-way along the far wall. Dark red chairs and benches lined the walls all around, the dance-floor was wooden and glittery with resin, and the atmosphere practically sizzled with anticipation.

  Mo and Scott were dressed in their stage gear – new for Lords apparently – skin-tight black flares and equally tight-fitting very short black skinny-rib sweaters. They looked amazingly sexy. Scott had, once again, crammed his feet into my pink boots much to Eva’s amusement.

  I’d worn the second-skin pale blue and grey silk mini dress and my silver sandals and added silver sequins and glitter to my eyes. Dan had laughed at my eyes, but Eva and Holly had been very impressed.

  Apart from us, there were a few other early-comers in the club: the six tall and stunningly beautiful girls in their white flared hipsters and brief white bikini tops who worked the bar area as hostesses; the DJ, who was called Jonno; the doorman, Reggie and his side-kick, Norm; and Pat and Doreen who’d run the cloakroom since the club first opened. Scott had filled me in on all this and much more on our journey into town in Mo’s van as we sailed dizzily down the slalom of Le Mont Cochon and via First Tower, into St Helier.

  So, I already knew that Narnia’s Children had added several new songs to their stage repertoire since I’d last been with them, that they did three hourly sets, 9 til 10, 11 til midnight and 1 til 2 when the club closed. I’d also been informed that I’d sit at the band’s table, next to the stage on the left-hand side and that I wasn’t to talk to anyone and definitely not accept offers of a dance! Scott had laughed when he’d said this, and I knew he was joking but it didn’t matter, he needn’t have worried: there was only one person in the world I was going to be with – tonight and every night.

  Zak and Joss – also looking very tanned and drop dead sexy in the all-black clothes – arrived together and greeted me with whoops and hugs – it was lovely. It was fab being back with them all again after so long.

  Once Narnia’s Children started their tune-ups and sound checks, I settled back in my seat and just drank it all in. Oh, they looked and sounded so sensational – I’d missed this so much – I just loved it!

  Then, as the doors opened, and the crowds started arriving, the group came and sat round the table with me, and Jonno, the DJ, boomed into action. Most records I knew, a couple were new to me, but cool tune after cool tune bounced off the walls: Bob and Earl’s ‘Harlem Shuffle’, The Beach Boys’ ‘Darlin’, The Foundations’ ‘Build Me Up Buttercup’, The Herd’s ‘I Don’t Want Our Lovin’ to Die’, Crazy Elephant’s ‘Gimme, Gimme Good Loving’, Max Romeo’s ‘Wet Dream’, Herman’s Hermits’s ‘My Sentimental Friend’, Creedence Clearwater Revival’s ‘Proud Mary’ and Doc Holliday’s ‘The Egyptians’ – this last one brought a mocking cheer from Narnia’s Children.

  It was so exciting and noisy and colourful – the club was soon packed, presumably with a mix of locals and holiday makers, and the dance-floor was jammed.

  Mo fetched us all drinks – I was daring and asked for a gin and orange – then, after Scott had suggested it, I had a rye and dry like the rest of the band – rye whisky and dry ginger – wow! I loved it – and knew this would be my drink of choice from now on. The mix of drinks – I really didn’t drink much alcohol – had made me even more giggly than before, so by the time it came for Narnia’s Children to start their first set, I was buzzing!

  I don’t think I can describe how amazing it was to see them on stage again. They slammed into their opening set with The Beatles’ ‘Back in the USSR’ – and within seconds, the local Dolly Rockers were pressed three deep against the stage. I looked at Scott and grinned. He winked at me. God – he was so cool. The most beautiful boy in the world. Standing there, making the guitar sing, so still, so damn sexy…

  The set was a mixture of songs they’d always played, and some new numbers including ‘Get Back’, ‘Don’t Let Me Down’, ‘Lady Madonna’, ‘Loving Things’, and a very, very funny version of ‘Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da’. I just sat there and stared and sang and tapped my feet and
loved every single fantastic second of it.

  The first hour flew by and I went up to the bar and reordered drinks all round – I bought beers as well as rye and drys because I guessed they’d be thirsty – and was back in my seat just as they came off stage and were mobbed by the waiting girls.

  I wasn’t jealous of the would-be groupie girls, or of the gorgeous Lords’s hostesses who clearly were very friendly with the group. I wasn’t even jealous of Renza. This all came as a bit of a shock as I watched Scott disentangle himself from the clutches of a rather chubby girl with a bad perm.

  What Scott did, and who he did it with, when he wasn’t with me, really didn’t bother me. It was a revelation – and maybe something to do with the alcohol – but as long as he was with me, loved me, was mine when we were together and still wanted to be with me whenever possible, nothing else mattered.

  I decided I wouldn’t tell him this.

  Jonno was back DJ-ing like a mad thing and once again the floor was packed.

  In Narnia’s Children’s second set they slotted some real hard rock in amongst some of the more melodic Beach Boys, Hollies and Moody Blues hits. ‘Go Now’, ‘Wouldn’t It Be Nice?’, ‘California Girls’, ‘Bus Stop’, ‘Ride My See-Saw’, ‘When I Grow Up’, ‘We’re Through’ – all these and so many more. All absolutely fab and brilliant.

  Whether they played rock’n’roll or close harmony – they were a sensation. The atmosphere was ramped up even higher, the dancing was even more wild, and the Dolly Rockers even more vocally adoring.

  I was asked to dance several times but just shook my head. One boy was a bit insistent so I yelled above the sound of the band that I had a boyfriend. He yelled back that he must be the Invisible Man. I yelled back even more loudly, and pointed out that it was Scott. He swore and wandered off. I laughed.

  The group’s third and final set, in the early hours, was even more incredible. They played all the music that they’d played when we first met, all the songs that meant so much to me, then – with a fanfare and an announcement from Zak – they played ‘Livin’ with You’. Wow! It brought the place to a standstill – perfect for a slow dance too – those gorgeous, haunting, heartbreaking words and that sad, melancholic tune. I got goosebumps and blinked away tears.

  Narnia’s Children got a standing ovation and Zak said thank you and announced that copies of the record would be on sale – along with fan club flyers – from Jonno at the end of the evening.

  Clever, I thought. Very clever.

  They then lifted the mood by roaring into a west coast and Beatles rock’n’roll medley to finish the show.

  Almost immediately, once the cheers and applause and foot-stamping had died down, Jonno said it was time to go – that he’d be happy to take everyone’s hard-earned cash for copies of ‘Livin’ With You’ and to form an orderly queue. The queue was far from orderly and I guessed I’d have a lot more fan club applications when I got home.

  I decided not to think about going home.

  Jonno’s ‘Last Three’ – a trio of discs played every night to indicate it was your last chance for a slow dance and that the show really was over – were ‘Aquarius (Let the Sun Shine In)’ by the Fifth Dimension, ‘Goodmorning Starshine’ by Oliver, and finally ‘Isn’t This a Lovely Way to Say Goodnight?’ by the For Evers.

  Three more tunes stored in my musical memory box for the rest of my life.

  Once the band were happy that all the equipment was switched off and secure and safe and ready for a repeat performance tomorrow, we all had a final drink as the lights were dimmed and the last stragglers left the club.

  High as a kite, madly in love and not a little inebriated, I laughed with Mo and Zak and Joss, kissed Scott a lot and knew that I’d be more than happy for my first night at Lords to be repeated night after night after blissful night for as long as my Jersey sojourn lasted.

  Renza’s Diary

  May 19th 1969

  Mum and Dad have gone to dinner with someone from the base who has a huge estate not far from Wuppertal. Mum will be in her element, I can just imagine. Apparently he has a deer park with acres and acres of forest, lakes, and a huge schloss, which was seized from a rich family by the Nazis in the war, and a lot of the works of art were sacked. The man who now owns it works as a civilian big-wig at the base and apparently, so the story goes, after the war when he was a still a soldier, he was part of a team from London responsible for recovering missing pieces of art and restoring them to their rightful owners. Dad said the story is that he somehow ‘forgot’ to restore most of it and had managed to ‘acquire’ an estate as well. I don’t know what to make of it, surely he’d be in prison if it were true.

  The parentals won’t be back for hours and I managed to get the kids to bed early for once. They’ve been swimming which always knocks them out, and that means I can have a ‘Scott’ evening.

  I keep all his letters in a long wooden box hidden under the last drawer in the upstairs kitchen, which is never used. I’ve spread them out on the carpet. I’m going to sit on the floor to read them through from the very first to the latest one. I’ve put the reel to reel tape player on and I’m having a great time playing the Chart Show which I’ve taped off Radio Luxemburg.

  Back in April Rich sent me a tape recording of the latest Led Zeppelin LP, called ‘Communication Breakdown.’ Apparently Narnia’s Children had to learn some of it so they could incorporate it in part of their set when they played American bases. They needed more material than usual, because on the bases they had two long sets a night.

  It was nice of him to write telling me about books he’d read, and I should read – we like the same authors – and he said he thought he’d send me the LP because he knew I’d have to wait ages for it to become available in the NAAFI. I’m a huge rock fan and adore Zeppelin and The Who and, well, music. I adore music.

  It was so kind of him and I was thrilled. He didn’t mention anything about Scott or the band. I don’t know if I should read anything in to it.

  One great thing about living in converted flats is that the distance from the kids and my room is quite big and so I can turn the music up and bop happily without upsetting anyone. And I can read Scott’s letters to the music. It’s the next best thing to being with him sometimes.

  Renza’s Diary

  May 20th 1969

  I got a post card from Scott today with a lovely photo of Elizabeth Castle in Jersey on the front. He’s missing me and wishes I could be with him. He said his Mum thought I’d be over this summer. Yeah, me too.

  He said he was lonely but writing some really cool songs. I’m his inspiration and sometimes the words just spill onto his notebook so fast he doesn’t know where they’re coming from. He’ll sing them to me next time we speak on the phone.

  Scott hoped I wasn’t too lonely without him and that I missed him as much as he missed me.

  He sent lots of love and kisses and even Holly had drawn a heart on it for me with her name underneath, printed by Scott I guessed.

  It made me feel really guilty reading it because Klaus had taken me to see the Mohnesee Dam yesterday, as a surprise. We walked all over the dam which was one of those the Dam Busters blew up in the war, and we went through the woods to a funny little shop, for cake and coffee – tea wasn’t available, so I suffered coffee. It was all very nice and a bit old fashioned but I really enjoyed it. The scenery was out of this world. I wish I’d had Dad’s camera, but I forgot to ask. Klaus took my photo by the dam which was nice of him. We had a lovely time and I even let Klaus kiss me when he said goodbye to me afterwards. That’s why I’m feeling guilty. I hate leading Klaus on and I feel as if I’ve betrayed Scott. Scott is by far the better kisser too.

  Stella’s Diary

  May 23rd 1969

  My days and nights in Jersey with Scott had quickly fallen into a pattern. The days – long, scorching hot days, this truly was a fabulous summer with not a cloud in the sky so far – were spent sunbathing, reading, listening to musi
c, walking, exploring the island, swimming, talking – sometimes with others, mostly just us. We were very, very happy together. We laughed a lot and never seemed to run out of things to say.

  Occasionally we took Holly with us on our walks round the sun-dappled lanes near Scott’s house, along sandy tracks between miles and miles of glasshouses where the famous Jersey tomatoes were grown in their thousands. I was amazed at how tall they were – the arched roofs, reflecting the sun in dazzling prisms, towered above us – and how many of them there were, and how gorgeous they smelled in their special hothouse environment.

  Or across to the flower fields – rainbows of carnations as far as the eye could see, all destined for the Flying Flower market – with a hot, wafting scent that filled the air and made you giddy. We’d even plodded through the rutted potato fields, picking up stray Jersey royals and taking them home to add to my vegetable stash in Eva’s larder.

  And all the time I’d been discovering new things about this amazing island. Scott told me it’s only 5 miles by 9! Tiny! An entire country that small! And it’s divided into 12 parishes, each one named after the saint to which their parish church is dedicated, and each parish has its own law-keepers: their Honorary Police – the constables and the centeniers and vignteniers – it’s truly another world. Quaint – almost feudal.

  And when we ventured further afield into one of the northern parishes, some of the really old women were wearing Breton black and nearly all the older generation spoke in a French-Jersey patois. I’d stored all this up to tell mum and dad and Vix.

  I’d sent them – and my grandparents – postcards, of course, letting them know I was there and safe and very happy. I actually sent them all a postcard with the same gorgeous picture on: Mont Orgueil Castle at night, illuminated by multi-coloured lights spilling across Gory Harbour in Grouville. It looked amazingly beautiful. Scott promised we’d go there one night and see it for real!