by DaNeo Duran
Just when he thought he had him pinned Stu’s spare hand approached Johnny’s eye.
Retreating Johnny’s head met the skirting board’s resistance. With no escape Stu’s thumb located and pressed into the eye’s socket.
Johnny gripped harder hoping he’d constrict Stu’s carotid pulse enough to supress the flow of blood to his brain.
If Stu didn’t weaken in seconds Johnny reckoned he’d lose his eye.
On the verge of tapping out, the sound of shrieking pierced his mind. Given the mounting pain he wondered if he’d screamed. Whatever, the pressure on his eyeball subsided. The hand moved off his face.
Johnny tried raising his head.
Through fuzzy vision he could only make out a female figure dressed in black.
‘Veronica?’ Stu said.
‘What are you two doing?’
‘This scumbag was coming onto you,’ Stu said in a voice Johnny found reassuringly exhausted.
Confused Johnny rested his head still holding Stu such that he could re-grip should he need to. As the vision returned he lifted his head again only then realising what Stu had said.
‘Veronica?’ Johnny said to his girlfriend when she turned to leave. ‘What’s he on about?’
She held a hand to her face but Stu said, ‘She’s my girl.’
‘Yours? Since when?’
‘Since three months.’
When Johnny said she’d been his girlfriend for three months Stu reacted badly so Johnny dug deep finding strength to retightened his grip.
‘Let go,’ Stu croaked.
‘Explain yourself.’
‘What’s to explain? She’s my girlfriend and has been for months.’
Johnny let go hearing the door slam. The two lads looked up to find themselves alone. Veronica had gone.
‘Brilliant,’ he said pushing Stu away and rolling on his back. ‘You might as well kill me.’
Stu rolled away gasping. ‘I’ve seen her almost every night since we started.’
‘She’s been seeing me almost every night too.’ But Johnny got the picture. ‘So you saw red thinking I was chasing her.’
Stu didn’t respond. He sat but gave up trying to stand.
Johnny continued. ‘How embarrassing. I guess I can stop wondering why she was shaking me off all night.’
‘From where I was it didn’t look like she wanted you at all.’
‘I don’t see her digging you either.’
‘Shut up,’ Stu said trying again to stand.
‘What’s your problem with me and my band?’
‘You’re all idiots.’
Johnny tried rolling onto his side but it hurt. ‘What?’
‘You’re a band of scummy junkies. I shouldn’t even be wasting conversation on you.’
‘Watch your mouth, I’m no junky.’
‘Save it. Johnny and the Used Ones, says it all.’
‘It’s about rubbers not needles you moron. And your band’s … a reflection of your over eager tempers; like that’s anything to be proud of.’
Stu wobbled to his feet. ‘I’m leaving.’
‘Where you going?’
‘To find Veronica.’
‘Brilliant. Good luck.’ Through the door he shouted, ‘You know she’s a junkie too?’
Lying there thinking of Veronica, who looked like Kate Bush, who looked like Miss Wilkinson, Johnny decided whether his next girlfriend looked like Miss Wilkinson or not he’d concentrate on finding someone with maturity.
Friday 06th July 1979
For Johnny a lonely week pining for Veronica followed. She didn’t ring. Obstinately Johnny pictured her number, repeating the image with incorrect digits until he couldn’t recall it accurately.
The following Friday he sat backstage before soundcheck in Camden’s Electric Ballroom. He’d been lucky to get the opening spot for the night at this their biggest gig to date.
With no sign of Marlon, the bandmates drank beer whilst waiting to soundcheck. When it got late they soundchecked without him.
Johnny left bandmates Russell and Steve in the dressing room and headed back to the stage for his guitar.
Finally Marlon appeared. ‘Sorry about being late an’ all.’
‘Yeah, alright,’ Johnny muttered.
Marlon had been Johnny’s favourite before lateness interrupted the band’s development. He shared little with Marlon these days. He watched him leave for the dressing room where he’d doubtlessly neck pints with the others.
Johnny took his Squire from its stand. Sitting alone on the stage he held it at arms’ length. Despite feeling despondent about the band’s future the guitar still offered hope.
‘What?’ Johnny said as if sensing the instrument smile.
Resting the body on his knees he relaxed unable to imagine its source of optimism as only he and it mattered. His bandmates could do and drink what they liked; Johnny knew what he had to do.
When the time to play arrived Johnny led his band to the stage. Into the first song they played. Johnny closed his eyes; the strings feeling wonderful under his fingers.
Instead of leaping around the stage as he had on previous gigs he visualised the undersized audience as one body and breathed their wonderful energy.
On his left he could hear crazy bass notes and knew Russell the bassist had lost his way again.
Focusing on his own playing he didn’t allow that to throw his singing.
Monday 09th July 1979
By 4pm Monday Johnny sang to market shoppers in a voice not over stretched by weekend gigging.
Only during a final chorus did he notice from a nearby stall, Stu watching him. Battling to stop his voice faltering he wrapped the song up.
Several shoppers joined Stu in applause.
‘Thank you, all, very much.’
‘Nice,’ Stu said approaching.
Johnny hadn’t felt as awkward since being at school. ‘Did you catch up with Veronica?’
‘Eventually.’ Stu pulled a face. ‘About that, I was wondering if we could have a chat; when you’re ready?’
‘I don’t want another fight.’
‘That’s a relief.’
‘I’ve got a karate lesson.’
‘Karate? I’d have guessed kung fu, muay thai and maybe judo?’
‘Karate too. What about you?’
‘I gave up karate after first dan. Mostly kung fu and muay thai.’
‘I didn’t know anywhere round here did Thai.’
‘There’s a place.’
Neither lad knew what to say. Johnny didn’t recognise the civilised Stu.
‘I understand if you don’t want to talk,’ Stu said eventually. ‘I just got a bit curious, afterwards.’
‘Well,’ Johnny said thinking, ‘seeing as you’re here I guess I could spare a few minutes.’
They headed to a street café. Only when they sat down with drinks did Johnny ask, ‘You said you got curious?’
‘Curious to know what you’re curious about. You arranged a meeting; room 122?’
‘Oh yeah.’
‘Who was that bloke who said he was from EMI?’
‘Geoff, he’s a businessman and my landlord.’
‘Anything to do with the music business?’
‘Afraid not; just a ruse.’
‘Guessed as much. So, why did you trick me into meeting you?’
‘Not to fight that’s for sure. Like you said I was curious – about your drumming. Obviously I didn’t know about you and Veronica. But you called me a junkie? I don’t even drink – ever. Or smoke.’
‘I know.’
‘Do you?’
‘How old are you?’ Stu asked evasively.
‘Nineteen. You?’
‘Eighteen. I thought you’d be older than nineteen. Most of your band look it.’
‘What’s your point – about the drugs I mean?’
‘Our bands gigged a while back, remember?’
‘Yeah, by the time I’d got something to eat I’d m
issed your set. Sorry.’
‘Don’t be. But, that night your drummer was selling drugs.’
‘Get outta here. Steve?’
‘I don’t know his name. We all figured the lot of you was scum.’
‘You’ve got it wrong. I have never seen or even heard him mention dealing.’
‘I’m not making this up,’ Stu said defensively.
‘Did you see drugs?’
‘Nah.’
‘Right,’ Johnny said sceptically. ‘Steve just came right out and asked you if you wanted some?’
‘Not really. He asked if I liked to feel good.’
‘Go on.’
‘Well I said yes. Then I cottoned on and told him to get lost.’ When Johnny said nothing Stu just looked at him. ‘Our guitarist reckons he keeps them in his snare drum case.’
‘Does he now?’ Johnny chuckled and said, ‘Sorry, I’m having difficulty believing this.’
‘Check his damn case then,’ Stu retorted.
‘Okay, keep your drumsticks quivered. I’ll check.’
‘Good. Anyway after we fought I chased Veronica, like an idiot. She’d gone but I found her friends. They said she’d come back downstairs looking upset and, you’re not going to believe this, left with some other lad.’
‘Bloody hell.’
‘Horrible night. Anyway, a couple of days later I tracked her down. She freaked but eventually I managed to get her talking. It seems she met us both the night our bands played. She didn’t mean to hurt either of us and is very sorry.’
‘You’ve not forgiven her?’
‘I’m not seeing her if that’s what you mean; not if she thinks nothing to slipping off with someone else when she was already two timing.’
‘Right.’
‘Anyway, we talked a bit about you.’
‘Oh?’
‘She reckons Steve’s a bit odd but you’re clean; in fact she thinks you’re scared of drink and drugs.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ he said. ‘But I can’t believe Steve’s a dealer.’
Stu rolled his eyes. ‘So check the guy’s snare case.’
‘I said I will.’ Johnny held his hands up.
‘Anyway despite the industry’s druggy nature, music’s my main interest.’
‘You don’t wanna be in kung fu films?’
‘That’d be good but, music’s the real thing. And, Veronica said of our two bands you and me are the most talented.’
‘She’s right.’
‘I know. I saw you at the Electric Ballroom the other night. I thought you were, well, excellent. Better than when I’d Sooner Nut You played with you.’
‘Thanks,’ Johnny said finding compliments from someone he’d fought so viciously with strange.
‘Veronica said you came to the college gig the other night to try and poach one of the drummers from another band.’
‘Ha, she must have been hoping I’d not show up.’
‘Too right. But which drummer?’
Johnny said, ‘Look I want the best possible band and that requires the right team.’
‘You ain’t got it if the Electric Ballroom gig’s anything to go by.’
‘I might say the same of your band but I’ll level with you Stu, you’re a terrifying fighter but a tremendous musician.’
‘So your point is what exactly?’
‘I’m not sure,’ he said toying with Stu. ‘After the fight—’
‘I thought you were some pusher nicking my girlfriend.’
‘And you were wrong on both counts.’
‘But we understand each other now. Wouldn’t you rather have me on side?’
‘You keen to join Johnny and the Used Ones?’
Having leaned forwards Stu relaxed. ‘Not necessarily.’
‘No?’
‘I don’t like drug addicts. But there’s something else – and for me it’s a deal breaker.’
‘What?’
‘America.’
‘America?’
‘I want a fantastic band and to live in America.’
Stu talked about lifestyle, Californian weather and its music scene.
Johnny thought of the man crumpled at the bottom of the stairs in Carlisle. Did he live or die?
‘Sounds perfect,’ he said.
Stu’s eyes narrowed. ‘You can’t mean it, you need time to consider something like that. I’d Sooner Nut You ended up changing their minds.’
‘Why, family commitments?’
‘Mostly.’
‘Fine. I don’t have family.’
‘No mum or dad?’
He shook his head.
‘No brothers or sisters?’
‘Not anymore.’
‘Crikey I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘It’s old news. The important ones are here,’ Johnny said tapping his chest. ‘Where I go they go; even America.’
Swerving any too personal questions Johnny recognised compassion in Stu and liked him more. He thought of Frank and decided having someone like Stu on board would be good.
Though he hadn’t thought specifically of America, Johnny knew that being a properly successful musician could lead to exposure; someone from his previous life might recognise him. The ogre, if he had got up from the bottom of the stairs, wouldn’t have any legal right to Johnny’s future but if he hadn’t, if he’d died – he didn’t want to think about that ever. America would be the perfect place; the sky would be the limit. Surely nobody would recognise him from his old life there.
Johnny learned that Stu came from a large family which, following divorce and remarriages, had grown bigger still. Stu reckoned they’d be fine without him.
After talking in terms of being a new member Stu had to ask, ‘What are you saying, that I’m in, just like that?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What about the drummer you’ve got now?’
‘If you’re right about Steve dealing drugs he’s out anyway. You’re a better drummer, younger and better looking.’
‘But the rest of the band haven’t even met me?’
‘Leave them to me.’
‘And if an even better drummer comes along?’
‘You’re ideal. My current drummer isn’t even competent. Besides myself, you’ll be the first proper musician Johnny and the Used Ones has seen. Anyway, you can stick with your band till you decide you want to make the change permanent.’
Stu leaned back seeming to mull the offer over. ‘You haven’t asked me whether I like Johnny and the Used Ones.’
‘Do you?’
‘I wouldn’t buy your records.’
‘We’ll create new songs. There’s more to life than punk and I’m sick of pretending.’
‘I’ll drink to that.’ Stu nodded at his Coke glass.
Sunday10th June 1984
‘Sorry Stu, I gotta find Dane,’ Johnny said wrapping up the training session early.
Getting ahead of the others, he bypassed the band’s room, skipping a shower and banged on the door of the second room they’d booked.
Dane appeared. ‘Johnny?’
‘What you up to?’ Johnny asked.
‘What d’you mean?’
‘Have you got a minute?’
Dane opened the door and pushed his glasses up his nose.
Stepping inside Johnny saw pages of scribbled calculations. ‘What’s all this?’
Ignoring him Dane asked, ‘What can I do for you?’
Johnny began apologising for his failure to welcome him to the team and for not noticing his recently improved efforts.
Hoping Dane would understand he explained his motivation surrounding what had happened at the card table in Lawrence and later on the car park roof in Kansas.
‘I presume you know about the private investigator too?’
Dane stopped shaking his head at the craziness of Johnny’s story and nodded.
‘I’d no right to treat you badly given I’ve behaved so incredibly stupidly,’ Johnny said. ‘But the worst of
it is, just because Christine thinks you’re innocent and everyone, including the techs, want to earn the money back it doesn’t mean I’ve stopped being suspicious of you. I’m sorry Dane.’
‘It’s alright. What’s done is done and it’s understandable you’d want someone to blame. You’ve given us all a shock. I don’t know what else to say in my defence other than I had no idea about any of this until Christine told me yesterday.’
‘I want to believe that; I suppose I do.’
Dane straightened the papers he’d been working on. ‘It’s a start. Perhaps I should apologise for telling you about the Vanquar reshuffle. None of this might have happened otherwise.’
‘I can’t swear to it,’ Johnny said. ‘But, I’m prepared to fall in with the general consensus to earn as much money for Linda as soon as possible.’
‘That’s good, especially as I’ve no idea who stiffed you or where to look given your PI’s not provided any leads.’
‘You thought of any moneymaking schemes?’
‘Just one.’ Dane tapped his papers. ‘I doubt it’ll fetch much but at least we’ll have something to pay Linda.’
‘What’s the idea?’
‘I’ll tell you when we’re all together if that’s okay. But, if everyone agrees to it we’ll have to work as a team. I just wish you and me could get on better.’
Johnny laughed. ‘Most of my friendships started out as fights or arguments so I guess there’s hope yet.’
‘I heard about how you and Stu met. Funnily enough I don’t know how the rest of you guys came together. Surely the girls wouldn’t have been trouble?’
Thursday 12th July 1979
At 7pm the following Thursday Johnny watched Steve and the others set up their instruments. Steve, the eldest band member took his snare drum from its case.
‘Where you going with that?’ he asked when Johnny snatched it.
Ignoring him, Johnny peered inside but found nothing untoward.
Only an old school jumper and Hendrix T-shirt used for packing tumbled out when he flipped it over.
The case may have looked normal but Steve’s expression looked sickly. Johnny knowing there must be something incriminating in there said nothing.
Just then his fingers touched a thumbnail sized loop of fabric. Tugging it revealed the case had a false floor clinging to Velcro. That only fresh air filled the space hardly mattered.
Steve flustered. ‘I—’
‘Shut it.’ Johnny turned to the other bandmates. ‘Who knew about this?’
Marlon didn’t but bassist Russell who’d introduced Steve to the band knew something.
Johnny kicked the case across the floor crashing it into Steve’s bass drum. ‘Put your snare in it and clear off. You’re not in this band anymore.’
Nobody spoke.
Only Russell helped and when Steve picked up the last of his items he nodded to Russell and left forever.
