The realities of a supposedly glamorous lifestyle hit home harshly. It always amused Felix that the GBP (the Great British Public, as he called them) assumed that if anyone had been on TV just once, they were instantaneously a millionaire for life.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
Felix lived in quite a modest apartment just outside of North London, afforded to him only by the godsend of a Christmas hit in 1986 that has been played every year since.
If it hadn’t been for that and the fact he’d co-written it - for co-written read changed a couple of words in a drunken and enthusiastic ad-lib - he’d probably be working his arse off in a fast food restaurant or living in a cardboard box right about now. Time had not been forgiving.
“So what are the plans, Max? Felix asks as he joins him at a table in the local pub. “What have you got lined up? I suppose the phones haven’t stopped ringing?”
“Not quite,” Max replies, stirring a cup of Earl Grey tea, white with no sugar.
Felix orders himself a pint of Strongbow and a packet of pickled onion crisps. How very rock and roll.
“The solo album you recorded in 1992 is back in stock at the pound shop,” Max relays with just the merest hint of sarcasm.
“Better get started on another one then, eh?” says Felix, refusing to let it dampen his enthusiasm.
“They’re not interested Felix,” Max tells it like it is. “Without Holly, Cherry and whatshisname, they just don’t give a damn. They never did.”
Felix is forlorn. He can sing, he’s got star quality and he’s managed to retain his somewhat youthful good looks – this despite two decades of chronic alcohol abuse and nigh on a thousand tri-sexual lovers, as in he’ll try anything once, and usually two or three times, just to make sure.
“But I wrote some new material,” he declares. Actually it sounds more like pleading. And then he suddenly breaks out into song:
“When I first saw her, my heart skipped a beat, I grew seven inches, I dropped my shredded wheat, her hair was golden, her eyes emerald green, to avoid her beauty, you would need a vaccine…”
Max interrupts, looking around in embarrassment. “Very good Felix,” he says. “But would Patience and Rule the World have been as big hits as solo singles?”
Felix is feeling despondent. He looks down at the worn carpet like a scolded child told he isn’t getting any pocket money this week. I could swear there was a pet lip out as well.
“We have to get the band back together, Felix,” Max says. “It’s what the public wants.”
“But I haven’t spoken to Holly or the others since 1988,” Felix declares, and he’s definitely declaring this time.
“Bands are all the rage now,” Max responds. “And everyone loves a flashback to the 80s. What exactly happened that was so bad anyway?”
Felix has a flashback of his own to numerous newspaper headlines that spelt the end for the band:
Tequila Sun Love Triangle.
Felix beds both Holly and Cherry.
Holly and Cherry at war over Felix.
Shocker! Cherry is a man!
Tri-sexual lothario Felix in threesome with midget and blow up goat.
Tequila Sun sets.
“Anyway I’ve booked the band into Rainbow nightclub on the 27th so you have a few weeks to find the girls. Oh and whatshisname too,” Max says referring to Rhino Zagreb, the 4th, remaining and other male member of the band.
“It’s up to you my friend. Would you prefer to go back to The Pig & Whistle working men’s club in Grimsby? Play your cards right and a new record deal could be in the bag.”
Chapter 3. (Entering Holly Wood)
A week has passed and Felix is in the local supermarket, getting his weekly groceries in. He’s depressed because he hasn’t been recognised in at least three aisles and is worried his relit star is already fading.
He notices his old flop solo album on special offer and while trying to get his head round the fact it’s in the buy none get two free section, his mobile phone rings.
“Felix its Max. Any luck?” Max asks, referring to his request that Felix find and reconcile with his former band mates.
“Not a sausage mate,” Felix replies. “I’ve used all my contacts up, called in every favour and was up till 4 in the morning scouring Facebook. I even hired a private detective.”
“Well you only have until next weekend,” Max warns. “Otherwise it’s back to playing your own lookalike in a tribute band.”
Max hangs up. Felix continues shopping in a zombie like trance, picking up some Shredded Wheat then getting the shock of his life when he sees the attractive lady on the checkout. It’s Ms Holly Wood!
It’s also been almost a quarter of a century. How quickly time flies, even when you’re not having fun. Last time he saw Holly she was a pussycat. Now she’s a fully grown cougar. But he still would of course.
Old feelings come rushing back and suddenly the new song he has been writing comes to life in an epic 80s style video with real life accompanying every line:
Verse 1: When I first saw her my heart skipped a beat (his chest bulges.)
I grew seven inches, I dropped my shredded wheat (he does, his trousers bulge.)
Her hair was golden (it glows.)
Her eyes emerald green (they sparkle.)
To avoid her beauty you would need a vaccine (a doctor suddenly appears giving him an injection.)
Chorus: Oh-oh Supermarket Checkout Operator (in her uniform, looking glum.)
Please be my sexual navigator (her uniform transforms into sexy lingerie.)
Check me through (Felix is lying naked face down on the conveyor belt with a barcode on his derriere, she scans him, the till registers 50p.)
I’ll be good for you (subtitle “with added vitamins and minerals” pops up on the screen.)
Supermarket Checkout Operator…
Verse 2: Easy on the eye, but my wallet felt the strain (opens his wallet, its empty of notes.)
Became a shopaholic, threw my money down the drain (empties remaining coins down drain.)
Had to see her almost every single day, she was a walking poster girl for foreplay (Felix opens Smash Hits magazine and she is the centrespread poster.)
Chorus: Supermarket Checkout Operator (Holly steps out of the magazine, and transforms again into…)
Please be my sexual navigator (Holly is now dressed as a lollipop lady stood in traffic, holding a sign up to Felix in his car saying ‘Bedroom This Way’.)
Check me through, I’ll be good for you (those added vitamins and minerals in Felix’s cream has all the pussies purring.)
Supermarket Checkout Operator…
A big censored sign suddenly appears on the screen, the record scratches and Felix’s fantasy is cut short when Holly speaks:
“OH. MY. GOD.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Felix replies, coming back down to earth with a thud. “Holly is that really you? How long has it been? 24 years and you haven’t aged a single day!”
Holly can’t help but smile. “Still the same old charming, lying Felix. I must look like my own mother.”
“What are you doing here?” Felix asks, unable to stop the words from coming out of his mouth.
“Uhm, what does it look like?” Holly replies solemnly and changes the subject. “I saw you on TV.”
Felix is embarrassed but just a little bit ego-inflated and tries to act cool.
“You saw that shit?” he says, failing miserably.
“I was pleased you didn’t get decapitated by the Zulu warrior in episode 3,” Holly says.
“Owen Paul was unlucky,” Felix replies. “It was pretty close.”
“Felix, I can’t believe it’s really you,” Holly says wistfully, a glint in her eye.
There is a glint in Felix’s eye as well, as Cupid appears and aims his arrow at both supermarket occupants.
“I have a proposition for you actually,” Felix states.
Cupid hits him, but Holly flashes
a modest diamond ring from Argos, indicating she is already taken, and Cupid misses her by a mile.
Felix is secretly gutted but picks up his resolve.
“No, I mean I’d like to take you away from here.”
He realises he has taken his left foot out of his mouth, only to replace it with his right. He tries again.
“We could reform the band. Apparently it’s all the rage…
You. (She smiles.)
Me. (She smiles.)
Oh and Cherry of course.”
Holly’s romanticised memories of the past come crashing down around her with the mere mention of that… creature!
“I don’t think so, Felix,” she spits with venom.
“Can’t we just let old demons die?” Felix pleads as he finishes packing his shopping.
“That’ll be £17.53,” she says, taking payment and starting to serve the next customer.
Felix leaves dejected, with his tail between his legs - all seven inches - and his shredded wheat, which he still keeps on dropping. His mobile phone rings again and this time it’s the private detective he hired, who funnily enough just happens to be appropriately named.
“Felix this is Dick. I think I have a lead on Cherry Fontaine.”
Chapter 4. (Cherry Bomb)
Felix is sitting alone at a table in a cosy French café called Je T’aime. It’s Thursday afternoon and fairly quiet.
He’s sat at a table in the far corner where people normally go to gaze at their lovers. Luckily there’s a small heart shaped mirror there so Felix can see his. Oh and he’s on his phone.
“So she eats here every day around this time?” Felix asks.
“Yeah,” Dick replies. The private one. Remember?
Felix looks around but doesn’t see anyone of any particular importance or relevance.
“Cherry sold her soul to a contact centre,” Dick reveals. “And now the devil wants it back. She works 5 minutes away and goes there for lunch every day without fail. Sits at the same table. Orders the same sandwich and cappuccino. I figure she likes routine.”
“I have a lot riding on this, Dick,” Felix states, pleased he got his comma in the correct place.
“Yeah, well be prepared for a little bit of a surprise,” Dick adds. “I don’t think she will be quite what you are expecting.”
Twenty or thirty minutes pass and Felix is getting bored, passing the time refreshing his Facebook live feed and seeing what everyone had for dinner / what their child / cat looks like today (same as yesterday) and Brian Lovestar trolling his latest book.
But still no sign of Cherry.
He looks at his watch, finishes his third cup of tea and gets up to leave, but as he is making his exit, he bumps into a strange looking man on his way in and gets quite the surprise indeed.
“Cherry?” he says, somewhat flabbergasted.
Cherry is pushing fifty, dressed as a bloke and now going by the name of Chesney Foster, her original name and her original persona. She pretends not to hear, nor recognise him:
“I’m sorry. Can I help you?”
Felix is unable to contain his amazement:
“Oh my fucking God. Cherry, is that you? Cherry, it’s Felix.”
Cherry/Chesney is shitting horizontal bricks sideways.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name,” he/she lies before making a swift exit of his/her own.
Felix follows and chases him/her down the street.
“We were in a band together in the 80s. Tequila Sun. Remember?”
Cherry/Chesney returns Felix another faked blank look and continues walking.
Felix starts singing a couple of lines from one of Tequila Sun’s biggest hits but Cherry/Chesney is unimpressed and tries to pick up pace.
Felix’s feet in mouth switching genius comes back into play and this time he seems to manage both at the same time:
“I knew you when you were a woman. I mean, I knew you when you were a man who thought he was a woman…”
His voice trails off mid-sentence as he realises he’s only making matters worse.
Tequila Sun were one of the biggest pop bands of the 80s. They had amassed an abundance of top 10 pop hits over a four year period, before a major scandal tore the band apart.
Felix was romantically involved with Holly. They had just gotten engaged, when he had a drunken one night stand with Cherry.
To make matters worse, Holly caught Cherry fucking Felix with a strap on microphone, dumped him and sold the story to the News of the World.
This resulted in Cherry trying to strangle Holly and facing an attempted murder charge, that was later dropped due to lack of evidence.
Felix hit rock bottom – as well as the bottle - and was later caught having a sordid threesome with a Snow White pantomime extra and a blow up farm yard animal, need I remind you?
Needless to say the band were never quite the same again after that.
And it clearly fraught Cherry/Chesney enough to revert back to her former self and go into hiding for the last 20+ years.
Cherry/Chesney reaches his/her car and gets into the front seat.
“We have a chance to reform the band, “Felix says, producing a flyer for the gig on Saturday and holding it up for her to see.
Cherry/Chesney refuses to wind the window down, so he places it behind her windscreen wiper, facing inwards.
“I have nothing to say to you,” Cherry/Chesney says as he/she puts the key into the ignition.
“I’ve moved on Felix. You should too,” he/she adds as he/she drives off into the distance.
Felix stands dejected by the roadside. Some of the GBP pass and don’t even stop to ask for his autograph, which only makes matters worse.
He starts to accept that his re-found fifteen minutes of fame just may well be over. The clock is ticking down and his only hope now is the illusive Rhino Zagreb, not only someone he hasn’t spoken to in over 20 years, but someone he never spoke to or got on with even when he was in the band. He might as well just give up now.
Felix wonders whether he’ll need much plastic surgery done to play himself in his own 80s pop tribute act.
Chapter 5. (Rhino Za Who?)
Strangely enough it didn’t take much effort on Felix’s part to track down the supposedly illusive Rhino Zagreb. Just a simple keyword search in Google. It’s the name right? I mean, where did he get it? I’m guessing his mother liked going to a zoo in Croatia to see her favourite animal? Maybe she went into labour during a visit and gave birth there, right in the Rhinoceros enclosure?
Felix didn’t know because he never really knew the man, he just stood miming next to him for four years, twenty odd years ago. As you do.
He was born Felix Smith and being a mid-80s prima Madonna, quickly discarded his frightfully common second name. And never the twain again shall meet. When he had it changed by deed poll he was required by law to put two names down so he’s ‘Just Felix’ now for arguments sake. Well, he thought it was ingenious.
Holly was always destined to be a star whether she liked it or not. Her mother Cecelia Wood named her quite aptly and had her booked into stage school while she was still a sperm in her Daddy’s dingaling. She has two sisters and they all share the same Christian name. Have you ever heard anything like it? Mrs Wood was clearly trebling her chances of a starlet offspring.
Cherry is of course Cherry, when she’s not Chesney, of course.
But Rhino was an enigma. Felix never knew him. Holly never knew him. And Cherry never knew him either. They were put together as a foursome by a music producer out to make a quick buck. And Rhino just went along for the ride.
So it seemed somewhat peculiar that he was the easiest of them all to locate. Felix had expected him to be living as a hermit in an old farmhouse, somewhere in the middle of nowhere in the south of France.
He surmised he might even be forced to use a cardboard cut-out on stage as a replacement for Rhino, and doubted anyone would even notice the difference.
But Google listed his address as 110 Teacup Lane in London and Felix thought he may as well give it a shot. What did he have to lose?
As the taxi dropped him off outside, Felix was a little apprehensive as to what kind of welcome to expect. It was an old terraced house, built in about 1920 on a quiet street in the middle of suburbia, not at all what Felix was expecting.
It looked like a massive townhouse, at least 3 floors high and probably had a basement too. Felix wondered what Rhino had been up to the last 20+ years following the bands demise. Probably an accountant, he thought, when in reality he had absolutely no clue.
He knocked on the door and waited for an answer. And waited. And waited. He knocked again. Still no answer. Just as he was about to give up, he heard footsteps from inside and suddenly had the eerie feeling he was being watched through the peep hole. He grinned nervously.
“Rhino, is that you?” he asked. “Rhino, it’s me Felix. Just Felix. Your old band mate from Tequila Sun.”
There was a certified silence for about thirty seconds and then the door swung open.
“Felix, do come on in!” Rhino gestured, smiling.
It was not at all what Felix was expecting.
Rhino showed Felix to his study. A large office-like room, with a desk, high ceilings, Parisian art and wall to wall shelves crammed with what looked like antique first edition books.
“It’s so good to see you, Felix” said Rhino as he sat down at his desk in a comfy looking brown leather swivel chair.
Felix joined him on the opposite side and felt like he was at a job interview. Only the reception he was receiving suggested he had already been hired. When in fact it was Felix that had the job offer.
“Nice place you’ve got here,” Felix said. He could see that Rhino had obviously done well for himself, which only made his own task seemingly more insurmountable.
“Thank you,” Rhino said. “You’re looking well.”
Felix wanted to say the same back, but he couldn’t remember what Rhino looked like before. He’d dug out an old copy of Look-In magazine from his attic just before he left, to check out Rhino’s back page fact file, but had forgotten his face already.
“You too,” he said anyway.
He remembered his favourite colour was green and his favourite TV show was The Professionals, for all the good that was. But beyond that his small talk would be practically slim to none.
As it was, they had tea and reminisced about old times. Appearing on the Razzmatazz TV show and knocking Duran Duran off the no.1 spot in 1986. And it all seemed altogether unnaturally pleasant.
Dream Myself Alive At Christmas Page 5
