Putting her pen down and folding her arms, she lowered her voice to the same level as his. “I would have stuck to ‘no flight risk.’ You were doing okay at that point. You have just offered a law enforcement officer what could be constituted as a bribe.”
“Whoah! No. I didn’t mean that. I ju—”
“You just thought you’d try something like the stuff you’ve seen in the movies. Not smart, sir. Not smart at all.” Unfolding her arms and putting her palms flat down on the desk, she said, “You’re not going to be able to save the day here, sir. I’ll level with you. I don’t think charges will be pressed. The guy he was fighting with is well-known locally for being a hot-head.”
With a resigned look on his face, Johnny nodded his head. “Any chance of seeing our jailbird?”
“Five minutes. No more than that.”
“Thanks. Appreciate it.”
***
Having been shown to the holding cells, Johnny saw the top of Danny’s head as he sat with his shoulders slumped on the single concrete bed.
“D-Mo.”
“Alright Johnny,” Danny said, looking up with a tear-stained face. Rubbing hurriedly at his eyes, he said, “Don’t say anything to the others! Please.”
“I won’t.”
“What about the show? The tour! What the fuck am I going to say to Dee? I don’t want to stay in prison in America. D’yer think they’ll export me back to England. I could cope with that.”
“Extradite,” said Johnny, laughing gently at the malapropism.
“It’s not funny! You’re my manager. I need your help here, Johnny.”
“Right, Danny. You’re not making tonight’s show. I’ve got a lawyer on the way. It’s unlikely you’ll be charged. But you’re here overnight.”
“Oh fuck. But they could send me down. You don’t know that for sure.”
“I don’t. But I’ll be back first thing. Promise you.” Holding out his hand through the cell bars, Danny squeezed it gratefully.
“Not a word Johnny. And don’t tell Dee,” implored Danny, looking more little boy lost than cocksure rock ’n’ roller.
***
“Now!”
As Danny sheepishly stepped onto the tour bus having been released without charge, Dominic pressed play on the stereo, having hooked it up to his iPhone.
The familiar slashing chords blasted out followed by Joe Strummer’s strident voice ably accompanied by the band – ‘Breakin’ rocks in the hot sun. I fought the Law and the Law won!’
“Here you go, D-Mo,” Mikee said, throwing an artistically doctored white T-shirt at Danny.
Catching it just before it hit him in the face, he held the T-shirt up and laughed reluctantly.
“You’ve got to wear it for the rest of the day. And the show,” demanded Dominic.
“Shirt off, D-Mo!”
Slowly taking his cell soiled grey T-shirt off, Danny put the over-sized white T-shirt over his head.
Looking down at the hastily drawn black arrows that adorned it, he again laughed. “Very fuckin’ funny boys. Very funny!”
“All day D-Mo. That’s the forfeit for missing a show,” Jamie said.
“Yeah. Sorry about that bu—”
“IT WASN’T MY FAULT!” chorused the band.
Pointing one of his bony fingers towards Dominic. “Tell ’em Dom! You were there.”
Putting a finger to his lips, Dom said, “I’m pleading the fifth!”
“What the fuck does that even mean? Danny said, screwing up his face. “Anyhow. I’m proper starving. Can we get some breakfast?”
***
“It feels like we’re starting all over again. Same as our first tour support,” Jamie had said.
Taking time every day to drift around the towns and cities that they were playing, having a drink or a meal in total undisturbed bliss, they had all become very relaxed within their little tour bubble.
The miles of highway had passed by remarkably event free since the bar brawl – a smattering of blow jobs, but a certain wariness had replaced their domestic take-on-all-comers’ recklessness.
An intrusively rogue digit inserted inside an unexpecting orifice had caused one overly large drummer to sit down gingerly for a couple of days. But that aside, all was calm on the American front.
Dates were ticked off, with the audience apparently impressed by the latest willing entrants to join the list of the ‘English Invasion’.
Conversations home were had by every form of modern communication – mobiles, texts, Skype, email. Even by public phone box…
“Lend us your phone. I need to call Dee and my phones died on me. I can’t charge it until we get to the motel. And that’ll be ages off,” Danny said, glancing worriedly at his watch.
An unreceptive band told him in no uncertain terms that they weren’t copping for his phone bill.
“Fuck ya then,” Danny had harrumphed as he sifted through his pockets for change.
At the next stop, he had selected a roadside callbox and fulfilled his daily commitment to Dee.
“Hey babe… Yeah I’m okay… How ’bout you… And the bump… You won’t look fat… You’ll look beautiful… Even more beautiful…”
The small talk and normality of these calls kept Danny more grounded than he would care to admit to. Needless to say, his second arrest of the year had gone unmentioned.
“I love you babe. Yeah, not long now and I’ll be home.”
Catching movement in his peripheral vision as he leant against the foot-scuffed plexiglass, Danny started to bang his fist against the door.
Mikee and Dominic were running in opposite directions around the phone boxes perimeter wielding rolls of the roadie’s best friend. Duct tape.
The rigid grey tape was now imprisoning Danny within the stuffy confines of the cubicle.
And he had just run out of change. The last noise Dee had heard being his anguished scream as he realised the prank that he had just fallen victim to.
“OY! YOU PAIR OF CUNTS!”
“See you later, D-Mo. We’re just off for a beer and a bite to eat,” smirked Dominic.
Lighting a cigarette, Mikee offered Danny a light through the glass.
“FUCK OFF!” shouted Danny, pushing helplessly at the door.
A group of local skate kids had gathered round the booth and were now recording Danny’s anguish on their cell phones.
“Excellent punking dude,” offered one spotty and lank haired youth. “How long you gonna leave him there?”
Given that he now had an audience and realising that a panicked reaction was exactly what they wanted, Danny put his shades on, light a cigarette and sat down attempting some semblance of cool.
“Laters D-Mo. We’ll bring you back some McNuggets,” Dom said.
Shrugging as nonchalantly as he could, Danny looked at the tip of his cigarette and blew smoke in his captor’s direction.
***
“How did you manage your great escape?” asked Dom.
“For me to know and you to find out,” Danny said, tapping his reconstructed nose proudly.
A ten-dollar bribe and a teenage boy’s illicitly carried knife had granted him his freedom. Knocking his beer back smugly satisfied with his initiative.
“Ya should have seen your face though,” laughed Mikee.
“Hilarious,” snorted Danny, “Dee was really worried about me. And she’s pregnant. She doesn’t need stress like that,” he said with a serious look on his face.
“Anyhow, no harm done eh D-Mo, and I’m sure them kids won’t put it all over the internet. Next stop New York!”
Chapter 51
Although Jamie had made the journey into New York City before, he still sat in awestruck silence, absorbing the skyline and its limitless possibilities.
And Lara.
She would be at their show tonight. Two nights at the famed Bowery Ballroom. An 800-capacity venue located in uber-fashionable Lower East Side Manhattan.
“I don’t care where we ar
e playing,” said Mikee, beaming his toothy smile. “It’s New York fuckin’ City baby!”
“You’ll know the place like the back of your hand though, won’t you J?” goaded Dom.
“Guided tours a speciality,” Jamie retorted, ignoring his brother’s jibe. “Just make sure you get some time on your own. Stick your headphones on and have a wander around.”
The label had laid on a meet and greet before the show, but the two shows meant that they would have plenty of downtime.
Leaning over his seat to talk to Jamie, Johnny tapped him on his shoulder and broke his train of thought. “No guesses as to what. Or rather who you are thinking about.”
“That obvious?” Jamie said, putting his headphones down on the table in front of him.
“Just a touch.”
“I’ve not seen her for ages. It always feels a bit weird just picking up from where we left off.”
“Yup. Tough gig that. Just getting back into bed with a drop-dead gorgeous model,” Johnny said with a mock sympathetic nod of his head.
“Fuckin’ hell Johnny! You know me better than that. It’s not just about that,” he said, pausing and laughing softly, “but there is that.”
“Of course.”
“I told you about that night we went out and she had a blonde wig on?”
“Yeah, yeah. How could I forget! You said she looked hot.”
“You need to get laid! Is that all you can think of? Anyway. That night was amazing. We were just a normal couple.”
“A very attractive very famous couple,” interjected Johnny.
“NO! That’s where you’re wrong,” Jamie said with a shake of his head.
“How so?” Johnny said, a frown appeared on his brow.
“Because that night we were just the same as everybody else. Two people having a laugh and a drink.”
“And nailing a Stones classic!”
“Irrelevant. Nobody knew us. Nobody looked at us or bothered us.”
“And that sounds perfect. But that can’t happen all the time. Sorry to be so blunt, J.”
“I know, man. I know. But it’d work if it could be like that more often,” Jamie said with a rueful expression.
“Other than moving to an island and going native there’s not a lot I can suggest. Lara is known worldwide. Y’know, magazines, and all the shit she advertises.”
“All the shit she advertises. Remind me to tell her that later,” Jamie said, then laughed loudly.
“You know what I meant,” winked Johnny.
“You’ll see the madness tonight for yourself. Unless we sneak past the paps,” Jamie said with a self-conscious wince. “And it’s for Lara, not me!”
“Girls on Film,” Johnny sang. Very badly.
“Let me stick to the singing!”
“Perhaps best,” nodded Johnny. “Once you’ve soundchecked, I’m gonna go shopping. You can’t beat it over here.”
“You do surprise me. You spend more on clobber than the rest of us put together!” teased Jamie.
“I have to make more of an effort at my age. You lot look good without even trying,” smiled Johnny as he looked at Jamie, perfectly tousled hair, shades and a thrift store purchased Pixies T-shirt; clearly the previous owner had been quite the stoner given the proliferation of burn holes adorning it.
Interrupting the moment, Danny then shouted up in a distinctly un-Palinesque manner, “Fuck me! It’s massive. You’ll never find your fuckin’ way round!”
***
“Hello? Lara. It’s Jamie. I, err, I thought that you’d be at the show tonight. You okay?”
Hanging up the call, Jamie paced up and down the alleyway to the rear of the venue muttering to himself. He considered making another call and then put his phone away.
Dominic and Mikee leant out of the large steel loading bay door, sharing a cigarette and a beer.
Jamie, away with his thoughts, was momentarily startled as he turned around. “Alright, I didn’t see you there.”
“You okay bro? You looked miles away,” asked Dominic.
“Yeah. I’m good. Top set tonight. Decent crowd and that.”
“This place is brilliant. I’m definitely getting me some sex in the city tonight!” Dominic said, laughing at his own joke, and as ever thinking ahead with his loins.
“AND,” corrected Jamie.
“What?” asked Dominic blowing smoke and looking confused simultaneously.
“Sex AND the City,” corrected Jamie.
“Okay smartarse. Don’t ruin my joke. You know what I meant,” said Dominic spikily.
“You expecting company J?” asked Mikee. His Empire State Building tattoo complete with King Kong swatting planes was resplendent on his upper arm.
“Not in this back alley…” said Jamie, vainly attempting to inject some humour to overcome his frustrations.
“Haha. No, I meant—”
“I know who you meant, dude. Cheers. But she hasn’t shown. Bit of an odd one,” said Jamie, as he accepted a cigarette off Dominic. “Cheers bro.” He inhaled and almost chewed on the smoke. “Fuck. What is that?”
“I’ve been trying different cigs whilst we’ve been here. These are called,” he looked at the packet, “American Spirit Full Flavor or summit.”
“Jeez. They’d stop a tiger in its tracks!” coughed Jamie.
“Lightweight,” laughed Dominic as he took an exaggerated pull on his own cigarette and nearly a coughed a lung up for his bravado.
“I’m gonna give her one more call and if nothing, I’ll join yer for a beer,” said Jamie, as he popped his collar up to ward off the chill of the night air.
“Good to know we’ve got our uses,” said Dominic, having just about recovered the use of his larynx.
“You know what I mean bro,” said Jamie as he pressed call on his phone.
Straight to voicemail again. Her familiar voice ‘Hey. This is Lara. Leave me a message or don’t. Your call. Bye.’
Having already left two messages, Jamie decided that a third would look decidedly desperate.
“Fuck’s sake,” he muttered under his breath.
***
Bzzz.
Bzzz.
Jamie stood on the pavement outside Lara’s apartment building, pulling his woolly hat further down over his ears, partially to ward off the cold of the New York morning, and in frustration at being stood on the outside looking in.
He peered hopefully through the plate glass door, but did not recognise the on-duty concierge.
With a dejected grunt, he headed back to the hotel, hoping to catch the rest of the band before they surfaced for ‘Johnny’s New York City Tour’ – his passable accent had impressed Jamie far more than his singing.
If he got back quickly enough, he could pretend that he had played this far cooler than he had. Flagging down a yellow cab – I’ll never tire of that, he thought to himself – he was soon back at their art-deco Hotel on 91 and Broadway.
Grabbing a New York Times and a coffee from an adjacent deli, he popped his headphones on and strolled into the hotel’s compact reception area. Mikee was already up and about and was sat, engrossed with his mobile phone.
“Alright Kong?”
“Hiya J. You up and about already as well?”
“Yeah. Fancied some fresh air and a coffee. Rooms are a bit stuffy if you keep the window shut.”
“And you have to keep the window shut to keep the noise out,” nodded Mikee, “I hear yer man.”
“Want some?” said Jamie, offering across his freshly ground coffee.
“I’d love a cwoffee!” laughed Mikee, pulling off the New York accent almost as passably as Johnny. “You should see the itinerary the bossman has lined up for us today. Empire State. Harlem. Everything!”
“Obviously,” smiled Jamie.
“And then Ground Zero and Statue of Liberty. He’s booked us a driver and a people carrier, so we can stop where we want as well,” Mikee said excitedly.
“Sounds wicked. The others are co
ming along as well?”
“Should be. Dominic managed to get his sex in the city sorted. As always!” Mikee said, nodding approvingly.
“And,” said Jamie, with a slight shake of his head. It was one of his mum’s favourite programmes – until the tragic second film – and it was one of her bugbears that so many people got the show’s title wrong.
“What?” asked Mikee, with a confused look.
“Never mind,” said Jamie with a smile, “Here’s Johnny and D-Mo.”
***
“NEW YORK. THANK YOU SO MUCH! I can’t tell you how good it feels saying that,” said Jamie, adjusting his scarf slightly and wiping a hand across his sweat soaked face. “We’re gonna leave you with this one. It’s called ‘Salvation’. We’re Lonely Souls. AND WE’LL BE BACK!”
Dominic’s solo was hitting incandescent heights as his technical ability was growing in proportion to his confidence. The girls loved his good looks and the boys wanted to talk guitars and chord changes with him. He’d never been happier, Jamie thought to himself as he glanced stage right and saw his twin totally lost in the spitting spiralling solo that he was unleashing. Cool as fuck. And he’s my brother.
Raising his guitar and taking a slight bow to the crowd. “NEW YORK FUCKIN’ CITY! SEE YA SOON.”
And with that, they were done. Their first US tour in the bag. There was just the small matter of establishing if Ms L. Bearheart had been in attendance.
Beers were downed in their poky graffiti riddled dressing room – which Mikee was painstakingly adding to. His height allowing him to easily access the comparatively blank canvas of the ceiling. Balancing precariously on a chair, that threatened to splinter into matchwood at any second.
“You been able to check the guestlist for me, man?” asked Jamie as discreetly as he could.
“Not yet. I was watching your set. Give me a minute to down this and I’ll check for you,” Johnny said. “You were good tonight. Dom was on fire.”
Overhearing the compliment, Dom raised his bottle in acknowledgement, before returning to the rail of cocaine that Danny had just racked out for him.
“Thanks man.” With a slow shake of his head, he said, “I’ll be gutted if she doesn’t show.”
The Rock 'N' the Roll. 'N That Page 36
