“But you need a lead guitarist. I play bass?”
“Eliza said you play lead guitar too?”
“Yeah I do actually… my first choice really.” Jonny was starting to convince himself it was a good idea. “Bit out of practice though and I’d have to learn your songs of course.”
“Sounds like you’re warming to the idea though?”
“Well, if there’s no-one else and you think I can do it, then, why not? Yeah, you can count me in.” Jonny proffered his hand to Kurt to seal the agreement.
“Do you not want to chat to the rest of the band first?”
“Not really. It’s not affecting them is it?” In truth Jonny was flattered and it would be a chance for him to play lead. That would show Simon, he thought. An idea popped into Jonny’s head. “Might be best if I travel with you today. Give me chance to practice.” He was pleased that he now had an excuse to spend more time with Eliza.
“OK.” Dirk checked the time on his chunky metal wrist watch. “I think I’ve just got enough time to get across to the hospital and explain to Kurt what’s going on. I’m sure he will be happier with you, more so than some stranger, playing his songs.”
***
Eliza got on the bus with her overnight bag and the rucksack Dirk had left with her. She smiled briefly at the Crash boys but could see they were deep in conversation. She didn’t have to guess what they were talking about.
Jonny had worked out what he was going to say to his fellow band mates whilst on his regular run that morning after breakfast and had just told them, when Eliza emerged from the hotel.
“Well that’s not very loyal Jonny,” snapped Simon.
“It’s nothing to do with loyalty. I’m just trying to help some friends and keep the tour on track. Look, if the tour gets bad reviews then we’re all fucked!”
“What about practicing our set?” Joe was feeling a little put out he hadn’t been asked by Karma Life. After all he was the actual lead guitarist with Crash. “We’ve probably gotta do another extended playlist tonight to cover them ‘cos there’s no way they’ll risk playing El Paso with you fucking it up for them.”
Jonny just huffed wryly at Joe’s comment. He knew Joe thought Jonny’s guitar skills were good. He had said so on many occasions in the past. Simon must have got to Joe and wound him up somehow.
“Badger?” Jonny turned to the fourth member of their band. “What do you think? Are you cool with it?”
Badger had his hands shoved in the front pockets of his jeans, as if he didn’t want to say something that would get him into trouble with neither Jonny nor Simon.
“Yeah… whatever.”
“Whatever? What’s that supposed to mean?” Simon quizzed.
“I’m not bothered either way. If Jonny wants to do this then that’s up to him.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence guys.” Jonny had justified it to himself as doing everyone a favour and they quite obviously didn’t see it that way. He was determined to prove them wrong.
It took nearly eight hours to get to El Paso and Jonny practiced all the way. As was his way, he learnt by listening to the tracks and then reproducing them on Kurt’s guitar. Trial and error. Just having one guitar in Karma Life meant it was a full on sound, quite like a bass in parts. He was relishing the challenge but felt under pressure.
Jonny was so focused he even passed on the beer and joints the bands usually indulged in to while away the hours on the road.
Jim Bob was travelling with them too and was impressed with what he heard. Leaving it up to Eliza and Dirk to make the call on whether they went on stage tonight. They decided they wanted to take the risk. “After all, it’s only music.” pointed out Eliza.
Chapter Fifteen
On the way to El Paso, Crash had come up with another argument against Jonny doing the Karma Life set, which they decided to hit Jonny with before they went on stage.
“If Karma Life don’t play, it means more exposure for us,” Simon said coolly to Jonny.
“Well that’s not gonna happen ‘cos if I don’t do it they’ll just find someone else. They’re not gonna give up on the tour. Anyway I’ve said I’ll do it now.”
“Just you be careful. You had better not let us down. Otherwise we’ll find a replacement for you.”
Simon had obviously made up the threat there and then, judging by the look on Joe and Badger’s faces. Jonny so much wanted to snap and say what he was thinking. Well go on then! But he thought better of it.
The Crash set went well and then Jonny absolutely smashed it with Karma Life. They had left out two songs he hadn’t had chance to master and he didn’t do the solo in the middle of Hollow, but they all agreed it was good and better than they could have hoped twelve hours ago.
Joe and Badger congratulated Jonny out of sight of Simon. Warning him Simon really wasn’t happy with the situation, but they were fine with him helping out Karma Life. Jonny was relieved. He didn’t want to lose his friends Joe and Badger but did wish they had spoken up for him a bit more forcefully. He wasn’t going to take any crap from Simon but the more they kept quiet the more Simon would dole out.
They were all overnighting in the new tour buses in El Paso and then moving onto Albuquerque the next morning.
Jonny wanted to stay in the Karma Life bus, but wasn’t invited and there was no valid reason for him to do so. The "no sex on board" rule was strict and as much as he wanted to, if the band members and crew weren’t allowed groupies on the bus then there was no way they would allow him and Eliza to share a bunk together. That would really be rubbing their noses in it. Then he thought of Dirk and the lingering look he had given him back in Austin. An even more creepy thought came to mind of Dirk hearing him and Eliza making love in one of the neighbouring bunks. Yeah, not gonna happen. He would travel with her again tomorrow. Practicing was a good enough excuse.
***
Albuquerque went well, even better than El Paso.
The guitar player auditions, the record label had arranged, hadn’t given them an alternative and Kurt had been flown back to Holland. His arm was going to be in a sling for the next month or so. Understandably feeling miserable, he didn’t want to continue on tour with them. Choosing to go back home to his girlfriend and recuperate in familiar surroundings.
Eliza and Dirk were going to miss him. Their little unit broken. They were happy with Jonny’s performance but it wasn’t the same. He hadn’t written the songs with them like Kurt. And then there was the tension it had caused with Crash. Little things started to emerge. Complaints from Crash about the running order of the press interviews; access to the shared dressing room and Jonny’s absence on the bus.
Jim-Bob was kept busy trying to keep the peace.
It was killing Jonny not spending the night with Eliza. They were out of Arizona now and edging their way up the west coast. They had three nights booked in Los Angeles and he had persuaded Jim-Bob to check the bands into hotels for the duration. A well-deserved treat for keeping the tour on track.
Los Angeles was the heartland of some of the iconic bands Crash worshipped: The Doors, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Metallica and of course their beloved Guns and Roses. Of all the places they had been looking forward to on their tour, LA was the most anticipated.
Jim Bob had arranged a private tour for them where they could take in Hollywood Boulevard, Venice Beach and other landmarks. They felt just like the tourists they were. Driving past rock star homes and recording studios and even taken to the spot where Razzle from Hanoi Rocks died in a car crash. A bit too soon after their own incident to be tasteful.
They even had some time at Disneyland in Anaheim. For a brief time, Crash re-bonded. Putting aside their differences and sharing the thrills of the rollercoasters and the fantasy world that is Disney.
But the closeness was short lived. It was nearing the end of the tour and Crash were flying home to London at the end of August. Karma Life staying to do a couple of festivals and some extra dates in San Francisco
.
Jonny hopefully remaining with them. It all hinged on Jim-Bob being able to extend Jonny’s visa, which with his accomplished organisation skills would be no problem. This didn’t go down too well with Crash, and Simon arranged a meeting in the dressing room after their last gig. It was supposed to be a celebration, an after party to mark the end of their first successful tour of America. An occasion any other band would have relished. Not Crash.
“So what’s the score then Jonny?” Simon had clearly decided to kick off the meeting in an abrupt manner.
“What do you mean? ‘Bout me staying on I suppose?”
“Yep. You staying on. You should come back to the UK with us. It’s just not acceptable.”
“What to you? Not acceptable to you? It’s not all about you Simon. We’ve got nothing lined up until December. What’s the problem?”
“Loyalty. That’s the problem.”
“Oh here we go again. Loyalty. What do you know about loyalty? Was it loyalty you were thinking of when you were shagging my bird?”
“I don’t know what you’re on about.”
Simon had a genuine shock on his face which threw Jonny.
“Really? Well fuck loyalty and fuck you!”
Jonny stood up and pushed Simon stiffly on the chest. He stumbled back into a low table; fell over it and onto his back with his legs in the air. Pulling an ash tray off in the process, the ash and stubbed out cigarettes landing in his open mouth. He spluttered, trying unsuccessfully to spit out the contents. Black liquid drooling down his cheeks and into his eyes.
Joe let out an involuntary laugh. Badger’s wide eyes darted to Joe, looking like he was warning him off laughing at the bruised leader of their band. Joe turned away and stuck his fist in his mouth in a failed attempt to stifle more noises escaping.
Whilst Simon was still trying to disentangle himself from the table Jonny turned and walked off.
Fuck them! Fuck them all!
Jonny knew he wouldn’t get a penny if he left Crash now. All rights to the songs they had written together so far had been signed over to the label as part of the deal. It was the risk the label insisted on covering for signing them so early in their careers. They weren’t earning anything from the tour either. Just their expenses were covered and a small personal allowance.
“Who needs money anyway. It’s all about the music.” Jonny said to no-one.
Jonny wasn’t at the age where money meant much to him. He just needed enough to have a good time and live his life the way he wanted to. As far as he could see that didn’t take too much. Only sufficient for food, digs, a few beers, cigarettes, keeping his car on the road and strings for his guitar. He didn’t have much in the way of a wardrobe so that wasn’t a cash drain either. Typically wearing jeans and t-shirts for almost all occasions. His most recent extravagance had been his sneakers for his ritual run and even they were from the discount mall.
He was also put off by the materialistic driven way his parents led their life, always working to line someone else’s pocket. Buried in debt to have things. Things they surrounded themselves with to make it feel it was all worthwhile. They didn’t seem too satisfied with their lot. Money didn’t seem to reward them in that way.
Eliza didn’t seem to be bothered by money either and at the moment she was his world. If she wanted an extravagant lifestyle he would do his upmost to provide it for her. But she didn’t.
Jonny was stubborn. He decided he was definitely staying now and he would face the music when he got back to the UK at the end of October.
He rang his parents to tell them what was going on, hoping they wouldn’t try and convince him otherwise.
“Mum, just thought I’d let you know I’m staying on for a few more weeks. Karma Life have got some gigs here they need me for.”
“OK honey,” she said without asking anymore details. Her voice sounding strained. Reserved. Like she was holding back on something.
“Is everyone ok?” he dared ask. Hoping she wouldn’t say his grandparents were ill, or his dad had been fired, or anything that would hurt. He wanted to carry on his dream, safe in the knowledge he wasn’t being selfish. That everyone back home was fine and life for them was going on as normal.
“Yes everyone’s fine here. Don’t you worry. You enjoy yourself. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She had hung up on him.
He held the receiver in his hands for a few seconds, wondering what was going on. Maybe she was just disappointed not to have him home. “Yeah, that’s it. She’s missing me. Well I’m an adult now and she’s gonna have to get use to me being away. I can’t be tied to her apron strings forever.”
Jonny’s mum mirrored his actions five thousand miles away. She hugged the beige telephone handset into her chest for a few minutes before carefully placing it on the wall hung base.
It immediately slipped off and fell towards the floor, only being saved by the curly cord it was attached too. Swinging, it hit the dent in the wall that disclosed this was a regular occurrence.
“Bloody thing! Chris… Christopher,” she shouted to her husband of nineteen years. “Christopher that bloody phone has fallen off the wall again!”
Chris rushed into the kitchen, not quite hearing what his wife had said, but realising when he saw the swinging phone she must be complaining about it again.
He tutted. “All you’ve got to do is put it back on again. Just make sure you locate the grooves properly.”
Walking over to the phone and picking up the dangling receiver. He placed it carefully on the base, before it slid off to its starting position.
“See! It’s no good. You’re no good!”
“Whoah.” He lifted both hands up, palms facing her. “Whose rattled your cage, woman?”
She hung her head in shame, putting a hand on her forehead. “I’m sorry Chris. I didn’t mean to take it out on you. It’s just Jonny. Well it’s not Jonny. It’s Helen.”
“You’re not making sense woman.” Guiding her towards the stool at their newly installed breakfast bar.
“I didn’t tell you… because there wasn’t anything to tell really… but when Jonny was on his first tour with Crash last year, he rang. From Glasgow. He was threatening to come home. Leave the tour early.”
Chris took a deep breath, in an effort to calm his worn nerves. He knew he was now going to be there a while. Why does his wife never get to the point? Going around the houses with every story?
A cup of tea, that’s what they needed to get through this. A nice cup of tea. Without even checking if there was enough water in the kettle, he flicked it on before sitting down.
Trying his best to concentrate on what she was saying. Losing the thread of the conversation and drifting off to more entertaining thoughts. That’s what he would usually do. And we all know how that ends he warned himself. “Why do you never listen to me? You don’t care about what I’ve got to say.” He mentally shook his head clearing it of all those blissfully unimportant issues in life he would usually ponder over. Like "What’s happened to Sam Fox, and were those tits real? How many times do you have to go for a dump before a curry has finally gone through your system?"
Focus Chris. Focus.
“Really?” he asked with a false surprised expression on his face. Over acting was the only way of disguising the “I'm bored as hell and really not interested" look he was likely to give if he didn’t try really hard to mask it.
“Yes. Really. I know I couldn’t believe it either.” Settling into her story telling stride. She clasped her hands together. “I’ve been dying to tell someone about this for over a week now. It’s been killing me. It’s just I couldn’t tell this to anyone other than you or me mum. Mind you she would have had a thing or two to say about it if I did.”
Chris blew the rising stress along with the breath out of his puffed up cheeks.
“Well, do you remember that girl, Helen, he was seeing for a while?” she paused, cocking her head on one side like she
was expecting a response.
Too slow. He was going to get the full description now.
“You know the one. Long brown hair, too much make up and too much cleavage. Always chasing him. Bit needy. Would fly off the handle at the slightest thing.”
Chris involuntarily raised an eyebrow. Pot calling the kettle. He switched his attention to the actual kettle that had released its steam all over the cold kitchen window and was just about to click off.
“The one who stayed over that time?”
“Oh my God. Yes. That one. I’d nearly forgotten about that!”
Getting up he put both hands into the cupboard above the sink, noisily scrabbling through the mugs to reveal his favourite. The one that had "STAR TREK" printed on one side and “to BOLDLY go where no man has gone before” on the other. He placed his chosen vessel down on the work top before reaching for a flower embellished porcelain cup and saucer for his wife.
“Is this one alright, Shirl?”
Interrupting her disparaging description of Helen and her promiscuity; her family; her friends; her ambition. He had no idea what she actually said about her but he entirely got the sentiment.
“Are you listening?”
“Of course I am. I just thought you’d like a cuppa. Do you want this one or not?” Holding up the flowery cup to her.
“Yes. That’s the one I always have. Shows how many times you make me a cup of tea!”
He ignored her remark and said sarcastically, “Carry on… Helen’s a bitch and not good enough for our perfect son…” Giving her an over the top smile.
She scowled at him but carried on regardless. “So, last week I was taking your mother to the Post Office to get her pension. Like I always do.”
The add on comment he took as a dig. Knowing his mother always complained about him not taking her anywhere.
“Then afterwards we were going to have a cup of tea in the new café that’s opened up next to the Co-op. You know where the charity shop used to be. The one I took all my clothes to last year when I lost all that weight. Well, your Aunty Mabel had been the week before, to the café that is, and went on and on about how wonderful their fruit cake was. Best she’d ever had apparently. Which didn’t go down well as your mother always makes a fruit cake for Mabel. Bit too much all-spice in it for my liking.” She shuddered and stuck her tongue out.
Falling for his ANGEL_A Rock Star Romance Page 11
