by John Harding
* * * * *
“Wanna cut every copper by his f-roat, chuck 'em down watch 'em float. Kill the effers in every town, laugh at 'em when they drown. We say, F the Police. Kill the Police, F the Police. Murder them, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah.”
Andre stood motionless as their latest clients screamed into the microphone at the large venue and he looked at his uncle. Greg scratched her head. “You said,” the man between them shouted. “You said that they weren't offensive.”
“They aren't,” Greg told the organiser. “Much.”
“This is an under-sixteens gig,” he moaned. “We had a pro-rape song earlier.” His eyes darted around the hall and watched as several of the teenagers sang along to the imaginative chorus that involved repeated expletives. “This is not acceptable, Greg.”
“Yeah, I know,” the agent snapped. “I will be having serious words with them.”
“Yeah. And this is live on Junk FM as well. This is my name over the door. This isn't the demo tape you sent me. You know the rules, no swearing. I don't care what style they come here and do, no swearing.”
“I know,” Greg muttered apologetically, and his eyes squinted on the long-haired vocalist.
He screeched into the microphone and yelled. “Croy-donnnnnnnn!”
Greg shook his head. “Sorry, they are all public school educated, you know.” Andre bit his fingernails as the band started their last song – Jesus Was A Homo – that made Greg and the organiser incandescent.
The agent stormed across the hall and burst into the dressing room of the punk rock band the moment they finished their set. The members of the band laughed when they saw his furious face. “What the hell was that?”
“Relax. Bit of controversy,” the lead singer laughed. “Hey, who cares, eh?”
“He's my mate. And he's in such trouble tomorrow 'cause of you. And now I'm in the brown stuff.”
“Hey, it'll get us on the front page,” the scruffy singer told him. “Effin' relax. We just done your job for you.”
Greg took a few deep breaths. “No. Tonight, we split. I'm not representing someone who will sing that barrel of filth to fourteen year olds.” His eyes met the singer of the band, who cackled and shook his head.
“Then get yourself, and your little pet poodle,” he shouted and pointed at Andre. “And get the hell out of here.” Andre stared at him as he walked towards Greg. “After we have our money.”
“Sod off,” Andre shouted. “You think you are going to get paid after that?”
“I want my money,” the aggressive man shouted as Greg and Andre backed away. The door was slammed in their faces, and Andre turned to his uncle.
“There is still the Bare Necessities,” he offered him. “We could get them doing just naked gigs. Or a wonderkid at Crystal Palace called Keanu Rice-Sotherland.”
“Oh, I've not heard of him.”
“Yeah, well he is eight.” Andre shrugged. “Long term investment?”
Greg groaned. “They were our big hope,” he grumbled. “I need to see the bank to get us more time. I can lie about our new clients to them for the time being but we do need something. I can't keep doing it!”
“What about the soccer kid?”
“Have a word with his parents,” Greg replied. “But forget the naked singer. I've not heard anything so ridiculous in all my life!”
* * * * *
Jack watched as his parents drove out of the driveway and ran back to his room. He pulled out the letter to his parents; it was succinct and clear:
Dear Dad,
By the time you get this, I will have left Croydon for a couple of weeks. The band and I are going on tour and this is what I want to do.
I know you don't approve, but we can't choose what makes us happy in life and this makes me happy.
I will be back soon.
Love, Jack.
P.S. Before you think I am the only disappointment, Harriet is addicted to cocaine and keeps her drugs in a false lid of her jewellery box.
He wondered where he should leave it and where it wouldn't be found by his sister, and after considering a range of places, decided that on his parents' bed would be the safest place.
He packed his suitcase and ran with it to the car, having closed his curtains and locked his bedroom door. He had already prepared all the musical equipment to go, and had this neatly stacked up by the door of the recording studio.
Within twenty minutes of his parents leaving, Jack was leaving the house. He tried dialling Claire and then Paige, but neither of them answered his call, just as they had refused to do so earlier in the day. He swore; he knew why they were angry at him, but how could he be expected to make amends if they refused his calls and his texts when unresponded to.
Claire slapped his face when he arrived on her doorstep. “I'm having to ring and cancel them all,” she shouted from the doorway of her terraced house.
“No. We are going,” he told her as he stopped her from slamming the front door with his foot. “Didn't you get my texts?”
“What texts?” Claire enquired and then hummed. “I put your number on my block list.”
“Oh,” Jack muttered. “OK, I'm sorry. But Paige and Aunt Lucinda were right, I am too old to be told what to do. So we are off on tour.”
“I don't trust you,” Claire said firmly. “You let us down.”
“I know,” Jack muttered. “I know that. But look in the car. My equipment and my suitcase are ready. I just need you and Paige.”
“Paige won't come,” Claire barked. “I can promise you now, Paige won't come. And you really don't want to go and see her, she'll tear you apart. She was all for meeting you on a dark night earlier.”
“I would deserve it,” Jack admitted and wiped his eyes. “I know I messed up, but I've realised I messed up and I just want to put it right.” Jack gulped. “What do I need to do to convince you to come with me?” Her eyes narrowed, and she stretched her toes. “Eh?”
“OK. If Paige says yes then we will go.”
“Excellent!” Jack cried.
“But she won't, 'cause she is in bits. And I am not sure you going to see her is a great idea.”
“Let me deal with Paige,” Jack said quickly and smiled. “Just get packed then,” he demanded and ran around the parked car on her driveway to get to his vehicle. “I will go get Paige.”
“Good luck with that,” Claire shouted and shook her head.
Jack knew Paige was still angry with him, but there was nothing he could do, but apologise. Apology speeches raced around in his mind as he sped across Croydon to get to Selhurst. He parked his car in front of Paige's family vehicle at the back of their flat and ran through the alleyway to the High Street. He banged on the family's front door, and Hazel answered. “I need to see Paige.”
“She's not in,” the tall red-haired girl told him. “And she doesn't want to speak to you anyway.”
“I really need to speak to her, Hazel. Please”
Hazel crossed her arms and leant against the wall in the hallway. Jack tried to see up the stairs to Paige's home, but Hazel blocked his line of sight and she shook her head. “She doesn't want to speak to you. You know, she was crying earlier. And anyone who does that to my sister …”
“I was wrong,” Jack admitted. “Please, Hazel.”
“It's for your own good,” Hazel snapped. “If you see her now, she'll hurt you. I saw what she did to some bullies when they picked on me. Paige fights dirty.”
Jack sighed. “I need to see her,” he insisted. “I want to speak to her and …”
“She's upset. And she's in pieces.”
Jack flinched at Hazel's words and rubbed his hands together as he thought. “I know. And it's my fault.” He took a deep breath and looked at the teenager in the doorway. “OK. You know her better than anyone. If someone really, really wanted to say sorry and would do whatever it took to make things right, what would he have to do to get her to talk to him?” Hazel shifted and licked her lips. “'Cause I did a sill
y thing. I let myself get bullied. I was weak. But I am here, because I want to go on tour and I want to take her to Devon or Wiltshire, or wherever the hell Claire has said we are going because I enjoy being with her, and rocking with her, more than anything in the world.” Hazel wiped her eyes and shook her head. “What do I have to do?”
“You could start by apologising,” a voice behind Hazel said and the younger girl turned to see Paige sitting on the stairs.
“How long have you been there?” Jack asked.
“Long enough. I'm waiting!”
“OK. I am very, very sorry,” Jack admitted, and Paige suppressed a smile.
“On your knees,” she demanded and Jack moaned that he was in the middle of the High Street. Paige shrugged and watched as Jack got on his knees and repeated his apology. She sighed. “How can I trust you? How do I know you won't flake out on us again?”
“Because I am free of my parents. We are going in my car, I have access to my funds, and we will make money along the way. This is me. And I know you have no reason to trust me, but I am so looking forward to the next month. I want to go, which is why I am here. Claire is coming, if you'll come. It's all up to you.”
Paige took a deep breath. “OK, I'll think about it. I don't know if I can trust you.”
Jack clenched his fists. “We need to go now. I've run away from home. It's now, Paige.” Jack told her impatiently and scrambled to his feet. “I've left home and have everything ready. I just need you and Claire.”
“Go now?” Hazel moaned, and she looked at Paige, who focused on Jack.
“Hell!” Paige muttered. “You're really taking the whatnot. I don't know if I can trust you.”
“I know,” Jack agreed. “I know I'm being unfair but we need to go now. Claire's ready, it's just you. Please Paige, we are going to have such a great time, I just know it. I messed up but who doesn't once and awhile. Please, come with me! And I'll never break a promise again.”
Paige grunted and gulped. “Yeah come on.” Her eyes narrowed and she poked the gleeful Jack in the shoulder. “But you break promises again and I shall never, ever forgive you,” she warned and Jack nodded. “I mean it. I will hunt you down and hurt you. Understand?”
“Yes,” Jack muttered. “But come on, get ready. We need to get going!”
“You leaving me?” Hazel asked and Paige sighed.
“You can come too, if you want. As Band Manager.” Hazel looked uneasy, but Paige pulled Jack into the flat and into her shared bedroom. She frantically began adding clothes and toiletries to a case, before retrieving a family tent that was neatly packed up.
Hazel hovered. “I don't think I want to go,” she told her sister. “I'm not sure I'm ready to go running around the country.”
“Will you be OK on your own?”
Hazel bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah. I'll be fine,” she promised. “I've been feeling a lot better recently.”
“Well, I'll ring,” Paige promised. “And tell Mum I'll be in touch.” Hazel nodded and hugged her sister. “You can manage the Croydon end of things.”
Hazel giggled. “Yeah,” she said and wiped her eyes. “Good luck,” she called out after Paige had hugged her again, and five minutes after Jack had arrived, he was leaving with his star vocalist.
He would be collecting Claire, and then the Bare Necessities were going on tour!
Chapter XIV
While Claire had said goodbye to her startled parents, Paige's family were out when she had left – with the exception of Hazel – so the lead singer got a worried phone call from her Mum.
Claire and Jack chuckled as Paige did her best to explain that she was going on a crazy road trip with two people her parents thought she barely knew, had borrowed the tent, but that she would be back soon, and it was perfectly safe. She did not mention anything about the band or performing naked, and Claire gave her a wry smile. Paige promised to ring regularly, although she could tell her parents were worried, and Paige moaned for the next twenty miles until Jack turned on the radio. “This could be us soon,” Claire remarked. “It could be us on the radio.”
“It will be Paige,” Jack replied. “She's the star.”
“Will you stop saying that?” Paige snapped. “I am not the star. We are members of the same band when our keyboard player wants us to be, and if we succeed then we succeed together. If not, then we better enjoy ourselves trying 'cause otherwise there's no point.”
Claire gave instructions to their first camp site, and location for their first gig, in a little village in Hampshire. Paige had fallen asleep on the back seat, and was leaning against Claire's suitcase while Claire and Jack talked quietly. “Thank you,” she whispered to the driver.
“What for?”
“For … coming to your senses. This means a lot to Paige. And it means a lot to me. I think we are going to enjoy these few weeks.”
“I hope so,” Jack muttered and pulled up outside a yellow sign. “This is Four Oaks, but this is a …”
“Yeah, what?”
“It's a naturist camp site.”
“Well yes, we play naked. It’s the perfect audience as they will appreciate our performance.”
“But … it's naturist!” Claire groaned, and Jack accelerated down the drive of the camp site. Jack tried hard not to look at the naked flesh on display as he parked the car in the tiny car park and Claire told him to wait in the vehicle.
“We are here,” he told Paige, who stirred slowly. “We are at the venue. And it's a naked place.”
Paige rubbed her eyes and stretched her muscles. “What does 'naked place' mean?” She looked out of the windows and yawned. “Oh, you mean a naturist resort. Yeah, then it's a naked place.” Her eyes scanned the three outbuildings and looked back at Jack. “Four Oaks, right?”
“Oh, how do you know that?”
Paige smiled. “Because I know every naturist camp site in England,” she boasted, and Jack turned to face her, clearly impressed. “And because it is written on that sign there.”
“If I am staying here naked with you, is that worth a kiss?” Paige sucked in air through her teeth and nodded. “Please!”
“Yeah, I guess so! When we leave, not before! I want to make sure you don't get cold feet again.”
Claire returned to the vehicle before he could respond and directed Jack to another tiny car park, a hundred metres from the centre of the site, and told him to park it next to “Pitch 8.”
“How much was it?” Paige asked, and Claire smiled.
“Free. We are doing the set. We get a hundred pounds expenses after the gig and free pitch for two days. Which is fortunate as we weren't due to arrive until tomorrow.”
“What about food?”
“There's a café on site or a pub down the road for tonight, but we could do with a kettle or something. And getting some food tomorrow.”
Paige pushed the back of Claire's chair as they spoke. “Come on, let's go and get our tent up. Before we lose the light.”
Jack had never put up a tent, and as he struggled with the thin material, he was dispatched back to the car to watch as Paige and Claire erected their shelter inside ten minutes in the evening twilight. Paige hammered the pegs into the ground, and they carried their bags into the big four-person tent.
“Oh …” Jack moaned as he watched Claire unfurl a sleeping bag. “I just guessed we'd be in hotel rooms, so I've not brought a sleeping bag. And I haven't got one anyway.”
“Yeah, I thought about that,” Paige said with a smug expression and nodded towards her bag.
“You brought a spare?”
“I brought a double.” Claire laughed at Paige. “What?”
Claire sighed. “So I have to give up my sleeping bag to Jack to share the double with you?”
“I don't mind sharing with Jack. Hazel and I shared a couple of times when we were younger.” Claire's eyes narrowed, and she looked at her friend. “Honestly, I don't mind. Perhaps we could take it in turns to have the single.”
“Yeah, OK. Or we could stop off and get another single.”
Paige's eyes fell to the floor. “We could. But I thought it'll be better to be closer.” She nodded at Claire. “It's up to you two. Now can we get something to eat 'cause it's half nine in the evening and I'm starving.” Jack nodded and looked at his phone; it had been on silent for three hours and he had 23 missed calls.
