by Naomi Davies
For The Love of Music
Naomi Davies
Copyright © 2013 by Naomi Davies
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, send email to [email protected].
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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Chapter One
Anne Richardson was backstage wondering how she had been persuaded to do this gig. She was not in the best of moods. An April shower had caught her unawares and she was drenched from head to toe. Her long brown hair was not looking its best, and her shoes were damp and smelly. Things could only get better, couldn’t they? Being a musician was very rewarding most of the time, but not today! Her usual cool and calm demeanor was absent. She was red faced and rushed.
The back changing room of the concert hall, where the band was getting ready, was dark, dilapidated, dingy and in need of decorating. Their manager, Carlos, had decided that they should perform in their 80’s outfits. This involved lots of black and far too many chains, four inch nails and giant safety pins. For a group of girls in their early thirties, it looked a bit out of place.
Carlos was wearing his usual afghan coat, over a tatty T shirt and torn jeans. He had the appearance of an unscrupulous wheeler dealer and his deep South American accent made him sound dishonest. His long wavy black hair was tied back in a huge bundle. The girls took him on because his client list included at least two top forty acts. They figured he must know what he was doing.
The full line up of their band, known as the Kovergirls, was as follows;
Gail – Lead Vocals and Guitar. Never wore enough clothes and her skirts were always far too short. To complete her eighties look she had put some holes in her black opaque tights.
Narinda – Vocals and Lead Guitar. She had black hair, black beads, black dress, black Dr. Marten boots and black makeup. Everything was black!
Anne – Keyboards, Vocals and band leader. The good looking one who always looked cool and calm, but not today! Anne was wearing bright pink jeans with matching pink cowboy boots. Her black, semi sheer, flouncy blouse finished off the look.
Kate – Drums. Permanently attached to her Metallica T shirts and torn Levi jeans.
For this concert, the fifth and occasional member, Naze was joining them on Bass Guitar and Vocals. As everyone knows, bass players are notoriously unreliable and moody. Naze was true to form and very unreliable and moody. When she was on a high, like today, she was great. The Kovergirls had used many bass players in their first year as a band, but Naze was the best musician by far. She was dressed in black leather trousers and black denim jacket.
“You girls are looking lovely today.” Carlos made even the simplest of compliments sound a little bit sleazy. But since he had taken them on last November, Anne had to admit that they were playing good gigs most weekends and they were getting a bit of a name locally. For this particular gig, Carlos had hired a huge state of the art PA system from one of his other acts. The setup had taken an hour but it did sound good and loud. The sound man obviously knew his stuff. This would be the biggest gig the “Kovergirls” had ever played. There would be at least six hundred and fifty people in the audience.
Anne was used to playing in front of very large audiences. As a classically trained pianist she had played in orchestras, where there could be thousands of paying concert goers. The thought of playing a freebie concert, to a room full of old war veteran guys and their families, did not thrill her one bit. Carlos was insistent that the band needed this gig, and he must be obeyed at all times.
The lineup also included Darrell Rufus, a stand-up comedian. At the age of forty seven he was purposely a bit scruffy. Darrell had seen better days. He wore a Saville Row suit that used to fit him when he was thirty pounds lighter than his current two hundred and ten pounds. His humour was beginning to sound a bit old-fashioned in 2013. He was one of the story telling types of comedian, who led you down a tale and then twisted it on its head at the end to get the laugh.
The trouble was that some people didn’t have time for his long tales. They wanted short, quick laughs and lots of them. But even so, Darrell had seen a recent upsurge in his bookings. This was mainly due to the fact that he kept his act clean and suitable for all ages. He was a safe bet who would offend almost no one, and in particular on this day, would not offend Colonel Hatch. Colonel Hatch was the MC and was an army officer of many years’ service. He had come dressed in his full military uniform and wore a long strip of medals. He stood tall and upright. His hair was extremely short and closely trimmed. All his movements were deliberate and precise. Nothing in his life happened spontaneously, or by accident. Everything was planned meticulously, he was obviously used to running a tight schedule.
The old run down hall, just to the side of their changing room, was getting very noisy. It was supposed to be full of war veterans, along with helpers and families. But there was too much life and noise coming from the hall for that to be the case. Anne hoped that whoever they were, they liked their mix of hits from bands like The Bangles, Sister Sledge, Girls Aloud and The Spice Girls. They also had a few well-chosen rock classics in their repertoire.
“You are due on in three minutes. I’ll announce you and you must run on straightaway as I walk off.” Colonel Hatch reminded the comedian Darrell.
“Yes Sir!” replied the comedian, thinking that it would be funny. It was not funny as far as the Colonel was concerned.
Darrell ran on as ordered and started his set which was about thirty five minutes long. The raucous, enthusiastic audience could be heard laughing, in all the right places. At the end there was a huge cheer as Darrell delivered his last punch line. Darrell came off stage to a huge roar of appreciation and passed the microphone to the Colonel.
“Good crowd in today.” He said with a wide sweaty grin on his face. Colonel Hatch was forgiven for not having a sense of humour.
Gail and Naze were putting the finishing touches to their make-up and generally preening themselves in front of the mirror. Narinder and Kate didn’t care how they looked, and Anne knew she looked good already. They were ready to face an audience who were shouting and chanting, in anticipation of the Kovergirls.
The five girls ran onstage as they were announced by the Colonel. Actually, Anne glided onto the stage, as was her style. She never ran anywhere. The room filled with cheering and wolf whistles. This felt like a set up. To the girls’ surprise, the room was full of young men. The oldest must have been about forty, but the majority of the guys were much younger. Some of them had wives, girlfriend
s and children with them. The girls smiled and laughed at each other, Gail gave a count of one, two, three, four and they let rip with “Wannabe”.
Narinder and Gail were on top form, egging on the audience and jumping around like any girl band should. Naze, who was usually quite reserved on stage, started walking around her section of the stage, eyeing up some of the men in the crowd and blowing them kisses. Anne stood quietly and demurely at the side playing her keyboard, singing the harmonies when needed, and holding the band together. Even she couldn’t help laughing at the way the crowd was reacting to them. The audience was totally into the band’s repertoire and cheered and jumped around as if they were a top line act. Only a few people in the audience sat quietly at the back.
The set of quiet songs in the middle could barely be heard due to the noise. But the former pandemonium did eventually calm down a little. Carlos ran on to say to Anne.
“No interval, Keep going.”
Gail and Anne looked at each other and thrashed out the intro to “Won’t Get Fooled Again.” This got the loudest cheer of the evening so far. Some of the guys started playing air guitar to the power chords. Anne’s big moment was the keyboard solo. The other girls left the stage for this part of the gig and Anne was left in command of the stage.
She had played this organ solo so many times that she could play it with her eyes closed. But this time she played it with her eyes open. She looked around the audience, as they stood mesmerised by her four minute long solo. She caught the eyes of one particular guy, in a wheelchair at the back, and found that he was staring at her intently.
His mates nearby were waving their hands in front of his eyes, as a joke, but he just kept on looking. She broke away from his gaze, but had to look at him again a few seconds later. The crowd was getting quieter as the solo progressed. The guy’s gaze seemed to grow even more intense as the crowd became almost silent. Eventually the moment was broken when Kate’s powerful drum break came in followed by Narinda hitting the Townshend power chords with extra enthusiasm.
Anne stopped looking at the guy in the wheelchair and had to concentrate on her playing again. There was a huge cheer for Anne’s solo and the air guitarists started up again. The man at the back caught Anne’s eyes once more. He was clapping very slowly and pointedly and holding out his hands towards her in appreciation. The noise level was now almost deafening as they played through the second half of the set.
As the band finished their second encore off with “It’s Raining Men”, the whole crowd cheered and shouted for more.
The girls rushed off the stage on a complete high. They went back on stage for a wave and to thank the audience and then ran off again.
“Who are these guys?” Anne asked Carlos.
“I thought you said they were old war veterans. It’s like you put our best audience in front of us, plucked out of nowhere!”
“I never said that they were old. They are mostly Veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. Many of them have severe injuries. All of them are having a tough time getting back into normal life. They always make lots of noise at these concerts, but you have had the biggest reaction I have ever seen. I didn’t tell you about who the veterans were beforehand, because I knew it would affect your performance. By the way, you girls were great out there, the best ever.” Carlos said.
“Thanks, we were brilliant, weren’t we?” Naze said enthusiastically. Naze was in a good mood today, for a bass player.
The girls were back in the dingy changing room, laughing and joking with each other about the gig and things that had happened. There had been very few mistakes and they had performed to the top of their ability.
About ten minutes later there was a knock on the dressing room door.
Carlos opened it to see Darrell Rufus standing there.
“These guys want autographs, can you believe it?” he said.
Colonel Hatch followed Darrell into the changing room.
“That was brilliant, just what the doctor ordered. Would you girls be able to meet some of the men who have stayed behind?”
The Kovergirls had never done autographs before. They were now out of their band gear and wearing their normal jeans and tops. Kate had put on a fresh Metallica T-shirt. They excitedly followed the Colonel and found about sixty ex-soldiers waiting for them in front of the stage. Many of them were injured and obviously in long term recovery. Some had limbs amputated. It appeared that the Colonel was not quite as cool and reserved as he seemed. The men were slapping him on the back and telling him what a great concert it was. He, in turn, was trying to take the thanks as ‘just part of my job’ but was not doing it very well. The Colonel was the top man as far as these guys were concerned.
The odd man in the wheelchair was there, still staring at Anne as if his life depended on it. He had a full head of straggly hair and was unshaven. He was different in attitude to everyone else in the room. He had his right leg missing above the knee, evidenced by the presence of a shiny silver prosthetic leg. He also had a number of deep scars across his face. Behind all of that was a handsome brute of a man, who was in deep trouble. Anne could see it in his eyes.
“You were good out there. Thanks.” He wheeled himself straight over to Anne.
Anne looked around for help as she was finding him a bit edgy. Gail, Narinda, Kate and Naze were busy signing autographs.
“Do you want my autograph?” Asked Anne, uncomfortably.
“I can see that you are the best musician in the group. I loved what you put into those songs today. Do the others know how you hold it together?” Now he was getting a bit spooky. He didn’t want an autograph.
“Urm, no, I don’t think so. I just play the keyboard and do some backing vocals.” Replied Anne, somewhat hesitatingly.
“I think we both know how good you are. I’m Ed, by the way.” Ed held out an arm to shake hands.
“Hi Ed.” Anne took his hand and shook it somewhat reluctantly.
“I’m no good at small talk and mixing with people.” Said Ed, rather stating the obvious.”
“You can say that again.” Said Anne, with complete candidness. Giving no thought for Ed’s feelings.
Ed laughed quietly to himself.
“Before my body was messed up by the Taliban, I played classical guitar. I loved what you were playing.”
“Well, thank you, I guess.” Anne never blushed, but she thought she might do so at any moment, if Ed did not shut up.
“Can you still play?” Asked Anne.
“I can. The wags in the hospital have made my guitar playing part of my therapy. So I have my guitar and no one to play with.”
Gail bounced over to join them at this moment. Anne wished she would wear a bra.
“Well, Anne could play with you, she is classically trained.” Gail could be a big mouth at times.
Anne glared hard at Gail hoping that Ed would not notice. Ed saw the glare and smiled.
“Can I have your autograph?” Ed asked Gail.
“Sure, what shall I sign for you?” Asked Gail, pleased with the request.
“I’m only kidding. I just wanted to talk to … Anne did you say?” said Ed.
“I’m Gail and this is Anne. Well I’ll leave you two to it.” Gail rushed off hoping to sign some more autographs.
“Well, hello Anne.” Said Ed, he was staring right into the back of her eyes. It was like he could see right through her.
Anne stood not knowing what to do or say in this difficult setting. She didn’t want to reject Ed out of hand, just because he was a bit weird and rough around the edges. That would not be sympathetic at all. On the other hand, he was a bit pushy. She had no idea how to respond to him.
“I’m not much to look at, and I’m all blown up, but I am desperate for some help.” Ed took hold of Anne’s hand again while saying this. His desperation was written large across his face. He had no time for pleasantries and etiquette. He needed help.
“Where do you live?” Asked Anne, trying to buy some time t
o think.
“I live in Stoke Mandeville Hospital at the moment, but I wouldn’t want to meet you there. That place is full of losers like me. I come here to Harrow every Tuesday, for a day of ‘orientation’. It’s supposed to make me more integrated. What about next Tuesday?”
“OK, it would have to be after work, about four o’clock?” Anne found herself saying automatically. She was quite taken aback by Ed and the way he spoke to her. He had lost all care and subtlety in his conversation, and was the most direct person she had ever come across. It was very unnerving, but also refreshing at the same time.
“I’ll see you on Tuesday, about four.” Said Anne.
“I look forward to it.” Replied Ed.
Chapter Two
The following day saw Anne, back at work, worrying about this strange and damaged man Ed. He had made quite an impression on her but she couldn’t quite work out why.
“Penny for them?” Said her work colleague Jayne.
“Oh, just someone I met at a concert we played yesterday.” Replied Anne absentmindedly.
“He’ll never be as good as Giorgio.” Said Jayne, touching on very sensitive ground.
Giorgio was Anne’s work colleague and also ex-boyfriend. They had called it a day after realising that Giorgio was never going to give up his job on the frontline. He was happiest flying all around the world, chasing drugs barons and criminals. Anne was ready for a quieter life. Being with Giorgio was never going to be quiet. After the first rush of hormones had died down, they had both realised that they wanted different things from life. So they had sat down together, given their break up speeches, and agreed to stay friends. Anne hadn’t seen him since. He hadn’t even contacted her, and that was four months ago.
