The Rock 'N' the Roll. 'N That

by Steven J. Gill

  With panic threatening to engulf him, Dan tried valiantly to remain calm. “I’m sorry. Last night was great but I—” he stammered.

  “I know. You’ve got a girlfriend and now feel all guilty. I get the hint.”

  As naked unnamed zipped up her dress, she said, “And by the way. It’s Debs…”

  Flopping down onto the bed as soon as the hotel room door had closed, he let out a huge sigh of relief. Picking up his phone, he rang Dee. “Yeah. Good, babe. Yeah, did a few too many shots with Mikee. Yeah. We’ll be home about mid-afternoon. Love you too.”

  Hanging up, he pulled himself into a ball, willing himself to fall into a recrimination-free sleep…

  Chapter 37

  “Jamie! Jamie!”

  Trying to enter the front door of his apartment block, Jamie put his head down and pushed through the two photographers who were blocking his path.

  “C’MON JAMIE. Just a couple of pictures. You’ve got to be happy. Top ten album and a cracking bird to boot!” said photographer number one, wearing a black parka, and with a large camera on a thick red strap flapping round his neck.

  “Is Lara any good? She looks a right dirty bitch,” said photographer two, a dark grey hoodie with a thick orange gilet worn over the top.

  Stopping, and tensing his jaw, Jamie turned to photographer two. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  “Alright Jamie mate,” said photographer one, snapping off three quick pictures. “Anything to say about your new lady friend?”

  Leaning into the photographer two’s face, causing photographer one to start firing pictures off with wild abandon, Jamie snarled, “I’m not your fuckin’ mate! And don’t speak about her like that you fuckin’ scumbag!”

  “Now now! No need for that. Thought you’d be pleased, record doing so well n’all,” goaded photographer one.

  Putting his holdall down, Jamie smoothed the front of his jacket down and opening his arms. “Go on then. Take yer picture and then fuck off. I’m not going to talk to a pair of twats like you.”

  “Moody little fucker isn’t he,” said photographer two.

  “D’yer honestly expect me to have a conversation with you? Un-fuckin’-believable,” said Jamie, shaking his head.

  “You know how it is. Little bit of success and they get a big fuckin’ ego on them. Seen it all before,” said photographer one.

  “And we all know that they’re a little pair of bastards,” said photographer two, with a nasty sneer across his face.

  “What the fuck did you say?” said Jamie, again squaring up to photographer two.

  “We’ve got a couple of pics and you getting all shirty will make us an extra few quid. You being a silly little twat has probably done us a favour,” said photographer one, putting the lens cap back into place.

  “See ya around,” laughed photographer two.

  Picking up his holdall and entering the buildings door code, he said, “Pair of cunts.”

  “Jumped up little prick,” came the reply.

  ***

  “Hey Suzzie. Yes, I’m good thanks. You?” said Johnny, bracing himself for the inevitable comment about Amanda.

  “I’m also good. Delighted with the album. Sold brilliantly. Better than we expected, and we think that after the tour and the second single that it’ll do even better. Hopefully stick around for a good few weeks rather than drop off. There’ll be a fair bit of radio play and local station interviews whilst they’re on tour, couple of radio sessions. I’ll let you have a full schedule in a week or so when it’s finalised. You’re tour managing it, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. I am. Hopefully the last one. Next time will be bigger venues and we’ll be able to afford a tour manager,” said Johnny, as he skimmed through his email inbox.

  “I’m sure you will. Don’t want you being all work and no play, do we now Johnny!”

  Here we go, he thought.

  “The album launch party was brilliant! Loads of clips all over YouTube. Caused a real splash. And Jamie can’t keep away from Ms Bearheart can he? Not doing publicity any harm at all. So far anyhow,” said Suzie, clearly building up to something.

  “I’m surprised to be honest. I didn’t think he’d jump in at the deep end with a high-profile girlfriend.” He corrected himself quickly. “Not that she is his girlfriend. I’ve no idea about that. It’s his business.”

  “I’d disagree. As their manager, you need to know where we stand on these things. Stay one step ahead is my motto.” Pausing slightly, she said, “And you’ve certainly made an impression on my friend Amanda. Not seen her like that in an age. What’s your secret Mr Harrison?”

  Laughing at the inevitable subject raising, he said, “Must be something in the water up North…”

  “I’ll have to visit some time. Once I’ve had my jabs,” Suzzie giggled. “I’m joking! Of course. I know how you Northerners can get all touchy.”

  “Only when you Southerners remind us of it,” Johnny shot back.

  “Speak soon. And Richard sends his regards.”

  “Bye Suzzie.”

  Johnny hung up and smiled to himself. It was all going exceptionally well. Top ten album. Sold-out tour. Internet awash with nothing but positives. Life was good…

  Chapter 38

  “Good to be back on the road,” said Mikee. “And I like the bus! On-board toilet and bunks. And a plasma screen. I’ve got some films in my bag for us.”

  “Yeah, thanks Mikee, but can you not keep those films for your own private viewing?”

  “We’ll put it to the vote Boss Man!” laughed Mikee as he loaded his gear into the underbelly of the bus.

  It had been decided that Johnny would tour manage this tour – the venues were by and large the ones they had played as support band. This time they would be top dog with larger dressing room, longer soundcheck and a decent rider. There would be a driver, given the size of the bus and allowing Johnny to work whilst they travelled.

  Simon ‘Spoony’ James was a well-seasoned traveller when it came to working on the road with bands. He’d pretty much seen it all.

  And if he hadn’t, it was because he had chosen to turn a knowing blind eye.

  Rake thin, able to live on a diet of bottled water, cigarettes and Mars Bars, he had acquired more than his share of tarmac ‘air miles’. And his nickname was not one to be mentioned to his face. Many a wet behind the ears novice had, however, made this mistake.

  “Where’s D-Mo?” asked Mikee, as he loaded the last of his kit aboard.

  “No doubt saying goodbye to Dee and promising that he’ll keep it in his pants,” said Dominic.

  “Here he is now,” said Jamie, as he drank from a bottle of Lucozade, “and go easy on him, these things do just seem to happen to him.”

  “Alright Johnny,” said Dom, as he loaded his suitcase into the hold.

  “Alright lads. All looking forward to this. Bit more in the way of comfort with the transport and I don’t have to drive. I’ll still be in charge of the tunes though!” said Johnny.

  “Well Mikee seems to think he’s in charge of in-flight entertainment with his bag of award winning films,” said Jamie, with a look of mock-concern on his face.

  “D-MO!” shouted Mikee, “How are you brother? You already for a few week’s fun and games?”

  “Hiya fellas. Yup. Liking the bus. And a toilet!” said Danny, taking his shades off as he stowed his gear.

  “Yes. And while we’re on that subject. Bus rules. The toilet. No solids. Ever. At all. This isn’t open to interpretation. No smoking on board. Vaping’s fine. And any uninvited guests pay for their own taxi home if they wake up in the next town. All understood?” said Johnny, his arms folded across his chest.

  “What’s the point of a toilet if we can’t use it?” asked Danny, a genuine look of confusion on his face.

  “You’ve roomed with Mikee enough times. I’ll remind you of that if he breaks the rules, “said Dom, lighting two cigarettes and passing one to Jamie.

  W
ith all the equipment loaded and everybody safely on board, their ‘personal space’ selected, Johnny shouted, “Next stop Glasgow!”

  Leaning across the aisle, Danny said excitedly, “That means we get to go to Tebay! Those scotch eggs.”

  Back on the road, Johnny smiled to himself…

  ***

  “But all he wanted to talk about was the boys and the band. It was awful!” said Cally, as she sat in Costa stirring her coffee.

  “He’s a nice guy. I never thought he’d be like that. I’m sorry Cal, honestly,” said Jo, as she broke a bite size piece of muffin off. “Still, I’d have loved to have seen his face when you walked out.”

  Giggling and covering her mouth, as she had just bitten into her own muffin, she said, “Well, he deserved it. The only thing he stopped short of was asking for free tickets. The cheek of him!”

  “It must all be a bit odd for you right now. I mean all that stuff in the papers about Jamie and that Lara girl,” said Jo.

  Sighing deeply, “I’m going to have to get used to it. It’s fine with Jamie, he speaks to me regularly and I get the truth from him about stuff.” Lowering her voice to a whisper, she added, “He does really like her and said he may go out to America for a couple of weeks when they’ve finished the tour.”

  “She’s very beautiful,” said Jo breathlessly, eating another tiny morsel of muffin.

  “Isn’t she! But Jamie’s a very good-looking boy too,” said Cally, a little more defensively than she had meant to.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” said Jo, laughing. “They’d have gorgeous babies!”

  “Ooh, not just yet, please!” said Cally. “And did I tell you about the press guy turning up on my doorstep? It was awful. They gave Jamie a hard time as well. I hate them!”

  “Suppose you’ll all have to get used to that sort of thing,” said Jo, screwing up her nose.

  “My big worry is Dominic. He’s very headstrong and seems to be enjoying the rock ’n’ roll lifestyle a little too much.”

  “But boys will be boys,” said Jo, screwing up the muffin wrapper into a neat ball.

  “I know, but it just worries me. You know. All the stories you hear,” replied Cally, a worried look on her face.

  “What can you do though? Just ignore the papers and trust them.”

  “I know. And thanks. But no more blind dates!” said Cally as she hugged Jo goodbye, kissing her on both cheeks.

  “I won’t! And I’ll be having a word with our friend after his performance! See you soon. And not so long between catch-ups next time,” said Jo.

  ***

  “Gentlemen, I’ll have to ask you to go to your rooms if this level of noise carries on,” said the hotel’s duty manager in calming tones.

  “He’s the one that started shouting and kicking off though,” said Danny, pointing at the irate male in stood in front of him.

  “Should keep his bird happier and she wouldn’t want to party with us,” said Mikee, leaning back on the hotel reception’s sofa.

  “But they should’nae be flirtin’ wi ma lassie!” shouted angry boyfriend, gesticulating wildly at Dominic and Danny.

  As the duty manager tried to restore calm, the root of all the problems then proceeded to make matters worse.

  Much worse.

  Stood just behind her raging boyfriend and the harassed hotel employee, she again lifted her top up, flashing her bare breasts – to the wild amusement of the clearly inebriated band.

  “SHE’S DONE IT AGAIN!” shouted Danny, snapping his fingers and falling onto Mikee’s shoulder as he dissolved into fits of laughter.

  Turning around with a look of mortified outrage on his face, angry boyfriend whirled round, only to see his flirtatious girlfriend assuming a very demure look.

  “Lovely tits,” said Mikee, applauding.

  “IF HE SIYS THA’ ONE MORE FUCKIN TIME!” He balled his fists and breathed heavily. “I SWEAR THA’ I’LL…” Looking down at Mikee, he seemed to reconsider his threat.

  “Nice T-shirt by the way pal,” deadpanned Mikee, pointing at angry boyfriend.

  Looking down as if he had forgotten what he was wearing, angry boyfriend seemed to have a moment of clarity as he realised he was wearing a newly purchased piece of Lonely Souls merchandise.

  As this comedic moment was playing out, Danny was making eyes and mouthing encouragement for flirtatious girlfriend to again lift her top. Just as she was about to perform again, the duty manager, who had clocked the prompting, whipped round and caught her just as she was about reveal all.

  Ripping the T-shirt up over his head and balling it up before throwing it in Danny’s laughing face, the boyfriend said, “YOUSE CAN STICK YER SHITTY T-SHIRT, YA BASTARDS! YOUSE ARE FUCKING SHITE N’ALL. I’VE HEARD MA GRANNIE PLAY BETTER SONGS. AND SHE’S FUCKING DEID. YA CUNTS!”

  “Temper temper!” cackled Danny, as he pointedly smoothed out the T-shirt before handing it to Dom. “We’ll stick that back on the merch stand tomorrow. Good as new.”

  This tipped the now bare-chested angry boyfriend over the edge. Lurching for Danny over the table of drinks, he was only stopped by Mikee, as he put an oversized paw onto the sun-starved pimply chest.

  “GENTLEMEN PLEASE!” shouted the duty manger, his nerves fraying rapidly. “I’m going to politely ask if you two could leave and if you could drink up and return to your rooms.”

  “But we haven’t done anything other than buy a drink for the lady,” said Danny, a look of absolute innocence on his face.

  “I’LL BREAK THOSE FUCKING SHADES ACROSS YER FACE YA CUNT!” shouted angry boyfriend, this time from a safer distance.

  “I was ready to call it a night anyhow,” said Dominic, finishing off his pint.

  As the band stood to leave the bar area, the manager mouthed a silent thank you. The couple were now heading for the revolving door, with flirtatious girlfriend protesting her innocence. Just as they reached the door, Danny shouted after them, “Lovely meeting ya both. Keep in touch and we’ll stick you on the guestlist next time we’re in Glasgow.”

  Having been stood at the bar, taking in the whole scene, Johnny, Jamie and Spoony shook their heads, laughed and chinked glasses.

  “I love this shit,” said Spoony. “My round. What d’yer want fellas…”

  ***

  “Lara. It’s Jamie.”

  “I know who it is. Your number comes up on my phone,” teased Lara.

  “What time is it over there?” asked Jamie as he started to undress for bed, turning the immaculately made sheets back.

  “You always ask that. It’s just gone nine. I’m going out soon. Some drinks reception at a gallery opening. It’s my friends so I should really make the effort even though I’m beat,” said Lara as she applied the finishing touches to her make-up in the large ornate mirror that dominated the hallway to her downtown Manhattan apartment. “It’s in Brooklyn. Then we’re going on to a way cool bar. I’ll ask them to play one of your tracks.”

  “Enjoy yourself. We’ve just played a top show in Glasgow. It was roasting!”

  “Roasting?” queried Lara.

  “HAHA. Sorry. Dead hot. It was packed out,” said Jamie, laughing softly.

  “Your accent at times!” said Lara, as she teased her into place.

  “My accent! It’s you Americans and your fancy expressions,” taunted Jamie. “The others got a bit pissed after the show and nearly got us thrown out of the hotel.”

  “Pissed? See. You’re at it again. You mean they were in a bad mood,” Lara joked at her own expense.

  “You know what I meant,” said Jamie, as he slid under the sheets.

  “Papers still talking about us even though I’ve flown back across the pond?” asked Lara.

  “Not now you’ve flown home. They’ll be back on it when you come over here.” With a slight pause, he added, “or when I come out to see you…”

  “Jamie Thorne. I never knew you cared,” said Lara. Her accent as bewitching as ever to Jamie whenever she said hi
s name.

  “I was thinking that when we’ve finished this tour and what have you…”

  “Oh, you had me at the ‘what have you’,” laughed Lara.

  “Well?”

  “I’ll think about it. Now you sleep well, Jamie Thorne. Think of me when I’m stood around listening to boring people talking about themselves,” said Lara as she locked her front door and headed down the signature brownstone steps of her apartment building and stepped into the waiting car.

  “Night, Lara Bearheart.”

  “Night, Jamie Thorne.”

  Hanging up the phone, Jamie laughed to himself. Looking round his room in the perfectly comfortable Premier Inn Glasgow, he had just had a conversation with one of the most beautiful women in the world. He was starting to enjoy this rock ’n’ roll lark…

  ***

  Settling down for bed, Johnny flipped on his laptop so that he could reply to a couple of emails, still laughing to himself about the hotel bar incident – first night of the tour and they were very nearly out on their collective ears.

  Propping a pillow behind him, Johnny sat and scanned the list of emails – nothing problematic, few from Suzzie with radio airplay figures and some dates for regional radio interviews and sessions.

  And then one he had previously missed from Cally.

  ‘Hello Johnny. I feel a bit silly asking this, but look after the boys whilst they’re on tour. I know that you will, but things are all happening so quickly it just takes some getting used to.

  And thanks again for calling me back after I went on that awful date. I was a bit upset by it all, but I’ll be more careful in future – and choosier! Take care, Love Cally xx’

  Johnny had always felt a responsibility over the brothers – the whole band for that matter. And a beseeching email from their mum certainly ramped up the pressure. What could he do though? Boys in a band hanging onto the bucking bronco of rock ’n’ roll and all its salacious offerings.

  Girls were never not around the band and this low hanging fruit was being picked in grateful abundance.