by Ann Massey
The clerk was so busy she didn’t even look up as Josh and Crystal passed through the revolving door and got straight into a cab. Josh asked the driver to drop them off in Scott Road. As soon as the taxi sped off, he hailed another.
‘We’re changing cabs to put the police off the track in case they check if any of the drivers who service the Cathay Hotel picked you up.’
‘That’s smart. What will your friends say when you turn up with me?’ she asked, looking into his eyes anxiously as the reality of her situation sank in.
‘Geoff and Aryn will be all right. You’ve met them. They’re mates …’
‘But?’ she said worriedly, sensing he was holding back.
‘There are no buts.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘There’s no way I’m going to leave you to face this on your own. It’ll be all right, we’ll get you home safely somehow,’ he said with an assurance he was far from feeling. Although he was certain his pals would say yes to protecting Crystal, he wasn’t so sure about Tom and William, the two former members of the Satyrs.
Tom and William had met at university and teamed up with two other students to form the Satyrs. They were a strange pair and at times Josh was sorry he and his mates had joined forces with them. After just a few weeks of their company, he understood why the Satyrs had split up. He just hoped the same wouldn’t happen to Speed but their anticipated tour of South-East Asia had been marred by persistent bickering. The main point of contention was who was going to front the group. Tom wanted to be the lead singer and he didn’t relish sharing the limelight with Josh, who had always sung lead for Speed.
But it wasn’t just professional rivalry that was the root of their problems: it was a mismatched partnership all the way down the line. The Satyrs had been a coming band with a strong following before the fallout and they treated the garage-band boys like rank amateurs. But while Speed was a Cinderella band by comparison, Josh knew they could really play. And they didn’t just play the same old stuff. He was a talented songwriter and his compositions set them apart from other groups struggling to get known. The trio of friends felt good about themselves. Somehow they knew they’d make it and they were getting tired of Tom’s putdowns and William’s patronising remarks about their accents and education. So what if they hadn’t sat their A-levels? At least they were into normal stuff: football, girls and booze. None of them were into serious drugs. Josh’s mam would’ve killed him and the same went for Geoff and Aryn.
He wasn’t so sure about Tom and William. They kept to themselves and rarely joined them on their nights out. Josh sometimes wondered if they were poofters, except that Tom was a chick magnet and there was always a new babe in his bed.
Luckily everyone was out when they got back to Sentosa. Crystal raised her eyebrows when he took a box of hair colour out of the bathroom cabinet.
‘Yeah, it’s mine. The fans don’t dig ginger-headed metal singers,’ he said in his blunt, down-to-earth manner. ‘I bet I wouldn’t have pulled you if you’d known I was a ranga.’
‘That would have been my loss,’ she said, looking beautiful even wearing a ridiculous pink plastic shower cap with black hair dye running down her cheeks.
While she waited for the dye to take, Crystal racked her brains for a way to persuade Josh to let her stay. Nothing would be worse than going home in disgrace. She could imagine the hateful stories that would circulate and she’d never live it down. But the worst part would be her father’s cold, emotionless contempt.
Josh made a credible job of cutting and dying Crystal’s hair.
‘Your own mother wouldn’t recognise you,’ he said when she’d washed off the colour.
Josh’s innocent remark was a gift, the perfect opening. Lifting her chin, she spoke in a wavering, small voice. ‘My mother’s dead. Both my parents were killed in a car crash when I was seven.’
Josh looked stunned. ‘I’m sorry, luv. I didn’t realise. But you must have other relatives that care about you. Who brought you up?’
‘I lived with Nanna at first, but she passed away when I was thirteen. After that I was placed in foster care.’ She shuddered convincingly, proving her father wrong when he’d said she’d be better off taking cooking than drama because at least she’d learn something useful. ‘I ran away when I was fifteen and, well, I’ve been on my own ever since. To tell you the truth I never want to go back to Perth. I’ve got really bad memories. That’s why I took this job. I thought it was going to be a brand-new start for me and look what happened. The only good thing to come out of this whole fiasco is finding you. Please don’t send me away.’
Josh’s heart was pounding in his throat with fear, excitement and joy. ‘Come here, lovely, lovely girl. As if I’d let you get away.’
Aryn and Geoff didn’t immediately recognise the lovely, darkhaired girl with the Halle Berry short haircut. The brassy blond hair had been replaced by a soft, natural style that feathered appealingly around her pixie face. She looked more like the girl next door than ‘Scary Spice Meets Dolly Parton’, as Geoff had dubbed her when she’d barged out of the karaoke bar with Josh firmly in tow. Neither had heard about the drug bust and they were both shocked when Josh told them the story but, as he had anticipated, his pals were as ready to help as he was.
‘I don’t think we should let on who you are to Tom and William, though,’ said Geoff, who had as low an opinion of the other two as Josh.
‘Agreed,’ said Josh. ‘It’ll be safer for you if they think you’re just a girl I’ve met up with. We haven’t known them all that long,’ he explained to Crystal. He felt he had to explain his reluctance in confiding her situation to the two missing members of the band.
‘We better think up a plausible story and stick to it then,’ said Geoff.
‘Okay, how about this,’ said Aryn, who’d been listening intently. ‘You were backpacking with a mate but she’s hooked up with some guy and gone off with him and left you in the lurch. We met up last night, hit it off and invited you to come along with us.’
‘They won’t like it,’ said Geoff.
‘Too bad,’ said Josh, more confidently than he felt.
Just then the door opened and Tom sauntered into the room wearing suit trousers and suspenders with no shirt and bare feet. His dark hair was tied back in a ponytail with a beaded leather thong. The stubble of two days’ growth lay on his stubborn jaw. Slightly built and of medium height, he had an intriguing, silky, offbeat style.
‘Do I know you?’ he asked, smiling at Crystal, coal-black eyes gleaming dangerously.
Crystal shook her head and smiled nervously.
Tom listened as Josh explained Crystal’s predicament, his expression unreadable. So that’s how it is, he thought, noticing Josh’s arm placed proprietarily around her waist. He smirked. Taking her away from Josh would be amusing. He turned to the tall weedy guy with the aviator glasses and the slicked-back hair who was staring at Crystal as if she was a piece of trash.
‘Hey Willie, how about going up to the bar and getting a couple of bottles of champagne? This calls for a celebration. Drinks all round,’ he said good-naturedly to Josh, who was stunned by his friendliness.
Giddy without having anything to drink, Crystal leaned back against Josh and peeped up at Tom through her lashes. Once again she’d fallen on her feet.
Chapter 6
THE RIVERINE NIGHTCLUB IN KUALA LUMPUR WAS AN OPULENTLY REGAL ROOM. A full gallery of portraits of the Malaysian royal family in ornate gilded frames were mounted on lavish gold-leaf walls. The luxurious ambience of the salon was enhanced by two crystal chandeliers suspended from the high-domed ceiling, reflecting high-wattage light onto the white linen-covered tables arranged around a central stage, which was dominated by a grand piano.
Josh looked around unhappily. It was too posh, too over the top, and he knew he’d have his work cut out creating the right look and feel for the show. Right now all he wanted to do was try out some special effects. He didn’t have the patience to listen to Crystal, who’d kep
t him awake half the night pestering him about joining the band.
‘Face facts,’ he said to Crystal now. ‘Metal is dominated by males. Our fans won’t respect us if we have a girl in the group. Isn’t that right, lads?’
‘I disagree,’ said Tom. ‘There are plenty of female metal singers and some of them are truly amazing.’
‘Yeah,’ said Aryn, joining in unexpectedly on Tom’s side. ‘There are metal bands that are all female.’
Crystal looked over at Aryn with a smile and mouthed, Thank you. He blushed, embarrassed. Crystal smiled to herself; making up to Josh’s shy best mate had paid off.
‘Can you play an instrument?’ Josh asked Crystal, glaring at Aryn for encouraging her.
‘I fool around on the keyboard, but I can sing. I was chosen to sing both solos for the school’s Eisteddfod.’
‘Singing in the school gym is hardly the same thing, Crystal luv.’ Josh didn’t like hurting her, but he wasn’t prepared to trash the band’s integrity by taking on a singer just because she was his girlfriend.
‘At least you could let her try out,’ Tom said. ‘There’s nothing cooler than a metal chick. Some guys think women should just stay home cleaning, but I disagree. Everyone should be judged on their merits, and gender shouldn’t come into it.’
‘Could I just try out? Please, Josh.’
‘Okay, what are you going to sing?’ Josh snapped, angry with Tom for making him sound chauvinistic. He didn’t think he was. Well, no more than any other bloke. It was just that Speed’s style was aggressive, machismo, and introducing a girl as feminine as Crystal would ruin their image.
‘ “Smells Like Teen Spirit”. ’ Crystal knew Josh was a Nirvana freak. ‘You’ll play for me, won’t you, Tom?’ She tried to steady her breathing. Her heart was pounding like it did every time she looked at him.
Tom was standing in the middle of the stage like he owned it, dressed in black-studded jeans and a fringed suede jerkin, open at the front. Cables from the sound equipment snaked on the floor around his Cuban-heeled leather boots. He was worlds apart from the other band members in their torn jeans and shapeless grey-white T-shirts. No wonder he’s angry at playing second fiddle to Josh, Crystal thought. Anyone could see he should be the star.
Tom nodded, his eyes dark and brooding. He reached down, picked up his electric guitar and began to play the opening riff, hesitantly, as if he was trying to remember how it went, when in fact he and Crystal had secretly been rehearsing the rock anthem for days.
Crystal crossed the stage and sat on a straight-backed wooden chair, head down, her bare legs spread wide apart. Josh thought she looked a dream in her cut-off blue jeans and one of his old T-shirts, but he’d never seen anyone who looked less like a metal chick. He noticed she was trembling and his heart went out to her. The poor little darling was nervous. He winked and gave her thumbs up.
Crystal licked her lips. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. She hadn’t felt this nervous when she auditioned for the White Diamonds against twenty wannabes. She had to get a grip … take a breath … breathe … She knew she was good. Tom had assured her that their take on the number was going to blow Josh’s mind. At the sound of the first discordant chord her head snapped back, a low primitive growl started deep in her throat and she began to rock backwards and forwards, throbbing with the demanding beat.
Go for it, bitch, Tom mouthed, jerking the guitar hard against his chest like an impatient lover.
‘Hello, hello, hello, how low?’ she howled, the microphone crammed hard against her mouth, her voice a strangled whisper as Tom played and replayed the pounding riff as if he could keep it up for ever.
‘Yeah, yeah,’ she yelled, threshing wildly as the music peaked.
Geoff nudged Aryn. ‘Fucking hell, I think she’s coming,’ said Geoff.
Aryn never heard him. He was staring at the stage in openmouthed awe.
Josh didn’t know where to look. He couldn’t believe Crystal had simulated an orgasm in public and in front of his best mates. That’s what comes of getting mixed up with that White Diamond crowd, he thought with disgust, too shocked to grasp how, by sheer audacity and cheek, Crystal had made Cobain’s macho lyrics her own.
‘Am I in?’ Crystal asked Josh, her face like sunshine.
Josh’s stern gaze softened as he looked at her and his balledup fists unclenched. She’s got about as much idea as a newborn kitten, he thought. He wanted her real bad and wished he didn’t have so much to do or he’d take her back to their room right now. ‘Can we talk about this later?’
‘No, we can’t. I want to know now.’
‘I’m sorry. You’re phenomenal but you don’t look metal. We wouldn’t be taken seriously with you in the line-up.’ Even to himself he sounded unreasonable.
‘She’s too chocolate-box pretty, isn’t she, Josh?’ drawled Willie, looking down his long, thin nose in the way that always got Josh’s back up.
‘That sucks,’ said Tom. ‘Give her a chance. She can’t help it if she’s drop-dead gorgeous.’
‘How about we take a break for an hour and I’ll try to figure out how we can use you.’ Josh’s mind was racing through their stock songs. He knew one thing for sure: there was no way she was going to sing ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ on stage ever again.
‘Josh, you’re wonderful.’ She put her arms round his neck and winked at Tom, a jubilant smile lighting up her flawless face.
Willie glowered at her. The little tramp had got her way again and now she was making up to both Josh and Tom while Aryn beamed at her like a love-struck adolescent.
‘Are you coming’ she asked Josh, who had gone back to experimenting with the lighting.
‘No, but you go,’ he replied abstractedly, impatient to try out some ideas he had on laser effects. ‘How does this look from front of house?’ he asked Geoff as he turned on a harsh red light and the fog machine.
By the time they opened at the Tropicana in Penang, Crystal was an established member of the band, with a strong following of male fans crazy about her sexy, strong physique, shaved head and the tat, which snaked down the entire length of her neck and coiled around her shoulder.
It was Tom who had got her hooked on both bodybuilding and tattooing. At first she had been turned off by the photos of muscular women, and she told Josh she thought they were gross. She’d shown him couple of bodybuilding magazines Tom had given her and she and Josh had joked about how many steroids she’d need to take to look like the muscular girls posing with the massive pecs. But Tom had kept on at her and she began working out with him. At least it gave her an opportunity to see him without the others hanging round. Now even Josh admitted she looked incredible. He was even reconciled to the brutal haircut that made her dark, almond-shaped eyes look enormous and set off the cheekbones in her perfect, oval-shaped face. But he hated the king cobra tattooed down her neck, the hooded head rearing up from her shoulder blade poised to strike.
‘Why didn’t you talk it over with me before you went ahead and ruined your looks? Your hair will grow back, luv, but you’ve got that for the rest of your life. What were you thinking of? Or don’t you think?’
How dare he criticise the way she looked when he was the one who wanted her to look like a metal chick. At least Tom thought she looked hot. She wriggled into her new leotard. It fitted her like a second skin and she smiled in the mirror, admiring her strong, toned legs and bum. Wait till Tom sees me in this, she thought, drenching herself with the perfume Josh had bought for her from the in-flight duty-free shop on the way to KL.
‘For god’s sake, Crystal, do you know what time it is? This working out is getting ridiculous. You’re obsessed.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.’
‘It’s all right,’ he said, sitting up and reaching for her. ‘Give it a miss this morning, luv. Come back to bed.’
Oh no, she groaned under her breath. When it came to a choice between her gym date with Tom and morning glory with her bo
yfriend, there was no contest.
‘I wish,’ she said with a pretty pout and dodged his embrace, ‘but I’ve got a session booked with a personal trainer and I can’t keep him waiting. Go back to sleep,’ she whispered and blew him a playful kiss.
‘What’s new, pussycat,’ said Tom a short while later, crushing her against his hard body, wet and warm from the billowing steam.
At five in the morning only a few enthusiasts were working out in the hotel’s fitness centre and they had the Turkish bath to themselves. Crystal moaned with pleasure as he ground himself against her. She’d been awake for hours thinking of this, imagining him inside her. She pulled at the towel draped round his lizard hips and it dropped to the floor of the steam room. She wanted him, and she was tired of waiting.
‘Harder, harder, give it to me –’
‘I’ll give to you, all right,’ roared Josh, standing over the shameless lovers who were blatantly making out on the bench in the hotel’s steamy Turkish bath. He grabbed hold of Tom and pulled him off her.
‘Don’t! Stop it! Stop it!’ screamed Crystal as Josh lashed out.
But before Josh could get in a good punch, the door opened and Willie grabbed him from behind in a wrestling hold. He braced himself, waiting for the beating he knew he had coming, but Tom just shrugged and wound a towel round his waist.
‘You two need to talk. Let’s grab some breakfast, Willie.’
Willie waited until Tom was safely outside before he released Josh. He smirked maliciously at Crystal before following his friend. What I’d give to be a fly on the wall, he thought.
‘Oh, Josh, I’m sorry.’
‘Shut up!’ he screamed at her. ‘Don’t give me that sorry shit. Just shut up.’
Josh thrust his hands in his pockets in a desperate attempt not to hit her. He was shaken by the intensity of his rage. As a child he’d been scared by his father’s unpredictable temper and he’d vowed to be different, but that was before he caught his girlfriend cheating. He looked at her now, huddled in the corner, enormous black eyes in a white face, trembling lips, quivering chin. Josh’s bitter, angry eyes swept over her. He picked up her discarded towel and threw it at her.
