“This isn't funny. If my parents see this, I am a dead man.”
Claire shrugged. “It's been the best advert we could hope for,” she told him in a dismissive voice. “They might find that you are one of the most popular musicians on YouTube as the Bare Necessities.”
Jack snorted, and Claire was called back to work. “I'll ring you later,” Jack promised her and watched as she returned behind the counter at the upmarket delicatessen. He finished his drink and got up, tripping over a bag and looking to see the face of his sister, smiling back at him.
“Hiya Jack. Care to walk with me?”
“Sure.”
“So, you fucking that cheap slut?”
“What?” Jack asked as he closed the door to the deli.
“Are you fucking her? It's twice you've met now, and she seems nice enough.”
“No I am not,” Jack replied. “And I know her, she's …”
“The daughter of the maid. Don't you think you could aim a little higher? Or is she just easy?”
“She's … actually this is none of your business, Harriet.”
“True,” Harriet replied and shook her hair back into place. “But it is Mum and Dad's. Not to mention the Naked Band.”
“What Naked Band?”
“Oh brother, you really must learn to be more discreet. Everyone could hear you. So I searched the Internet for Naked Band and The Bare Necessities, and it came up with a video of some other cheap harlot naked, that floosie and my brother. Now what would my brother be doing naked with two girls?”
“OK, we made some music,” Jack admitted. “And played it naked. It's a one-off, that's why it was filmed.”
“Don't believe you,” Harriet sang.
“OK. Well it's ended now anyway,” Jack lied.
“So I can tell Mum and Dad?”
“I'd rather you didn't,” Jack asked, but Harriet cackled and rubbed her hands with glee.
“I know it's not over, as you were talking to her about it.” Harriet sneered at her brother. “Don't lie to me.” Jack sighed as Harriet theatrically thought out loud. “The thing is, why shouldn't I tell Mum and Dad what you have been doing? Harming our good family name.”
“Because I don't want you to,” Jack replied and put his hands in his pockets as they ambled down the private road.
“You don't want me to,” Harriet repeated with glee. “But you agree it is my choice whether I tell them.”
“It is your choice,” Jack conceded, and Harriet gave a grin. “But as your brother I would rather you didn't.” He glared at his skipping sister. “And I know about some of your secrets,” he warned.
“I don't have any secrets,” Harriet told him angrily. “But I'll be in touch,” she promised. “I'll tell you what I want when I've thought about it. My silence is very expensive.”
“Oi,” Jack moaned. “I keep your secrets,” he repeated. “And I don't expect anything.”
“Yeah, but when you are bringing people like … them … into our lives then it's different. Dad'll go mental when he finds out. You, and those cheap girls. He'd be so embarrassed.”
* * * * *
“Why?” Jack asked, and Paige gestured wildly.
“Because … we look fantastic. The sun setting and the trees and stuff. We look awesome.”
“But we are naked,” Jack replied. “I am really not sure about this.”
“Yes. Because we are the Bare Necessities. Look, we are naked on the video. OK, that going on the 'net wasn't up to me, but we are still naked. What difference do some pictures make?”
“Because they are very high resolution,” Jack replied and zoomed in on Paige. “Look, I can see your nipples in such detail.”
“So what! Who wants to do that? There are millions, maybe billions of pictures with exposed knockers. Who would care about mine?”
Jack sighed as his eyes lingered on the close up of the photograph. He was clearly visible in the background, and he shook his head. “You have no idea,” he said firmly and took a deep breath. “I'm sorry, I really can't do the naked thing any more,” he said. “My sister knows, and I reckon my parents will find out.”
Paige gulped and her eyes narrowed. “I thought we sorted this,” Paige thundered and crossed her arms. “All those recording sessions when you would be all scared, do it and then say it was good to be naked. I thought you were happy to be nude when we played music?”
“I am.”
“Then why the problem?” Paige asked aggressively. “You're eighteen.”
“It's not easy,” he said loudly. “You don't know them. They would go crazy if they knew.”
“I don't care,” Paige shouted back across the studio. “You said you are happy doing it this way. You said you liked it, was that a lie?”
“No!”
“Then so what if they find out?”
“It's so easy for you, you don't have this problem! They would go mental at me.”
“And do what?”
Jack gulped and shook his head. “I don't know. I just know, you don't cross my parents. They'll just go crazy if they know I've been making music without my clothes on. Or in public. I just, can't think of anything worse.”
Paige snorted. “OK then. I will go and tell them that I am pregnant by you.” Jack's eyes widened. “Or would that be worse?”
“Paige,” Jack pleaded. “You can't be pregnant because … well …” He gestured embarrassedly at his friend.
“Because we ain't had sex,” Paige spat. “Why so embarrassed about it? But, OK, I go tell them I am pregnant. And I want to keep it and will call it either Leroy or Kylie, say.” Jack shook his head as Paige hummed. “And if I have a bottle of booze in my hand. Then you will see mental. And then tell them that's not true, I just make music with you. Then it won't seem as bad! They might be quite relieved that it's just music your making with me, and not babies.”
“Paige,” Claire called. “Leave him alone.”
“You need to grow a pair,” Paige shouted at the keyboardist. “Tell them that this is what you do whether they like it or not. They'll still love you even if they don't.”
“Yeah well, it's not as easy as it sounds,” Jack moaned. “They aren't like your families. They are more …”
“More what?” Paige asked with scowl
“Well, we don't go for the naked thing. They like to remain respectable. They are decent people.”
“Respectable? Decent?” Paige thundered and grabbed her coat from the chair. “So this it, I like to be naked because I am some cheap, gutter, alley cat. Is that it?”
“No,” Jack cried, but Paige's eyes narrowed. “I didn’t say that.”
“Is that what you think of me?” Jack gulped and shook his head, but Paige didn't wait for an answer as she stormed out of the little studio.
“Call me when you grow a pair,” Paige shouted over her shoulder as she departed.
* * * * *
“Who are you going to see?” Greg asked as he looked over the shoulder of his nephew.
“Five artists … all unsigned … doing well on the Internet. YouTube, MySpace, that sort of thing. I think this one is pretty special – it's a group called the Bare Necessities and they rock, naked.”
Greg sniffed. “Why?”
“I don't know,” Andre replied with a smile. “But I will be seeing them tomorrow so I can ask. I got the number off a guy who runs a pub they did a set in. Spoke to one of them. She seemed quite nice.”
“Leave 'em.”
“Leave 'em? But they are so popular. Listen!” Andre turned the sound on his computer up to maximum and played Don't Leave Me with Paige's powerful voice causing his hairs to stand on end. “See.”
“Right, but naked singers. When was the last naked singer that made number one?”
“But that's the point. Before Elton John there wasn't gay singers making number ones, but when he came along there was. And in today's world it isn't a problem.”
“I can't get nudity on MTV before the
watershed. So promotion is your problem. And then there are the venues, legal issues. If you see them they need to know that this will be a problem."
“Maybe, maybe if we start them off at some niche venues and work our way up,” Andre suggested. “I think her voice is great and the videos, well they really seem to be enjoying themselves, and it says here on the Twitter feed that someone has their album. I think they could be worth a punt.”
“We need some solid clients,” Greg told his nephew. “See 'em, but we need some proper bands. What are the others like?”
“There's some rockers, here. What do you think?”
Andre skipped onto the next tab of his browser and Greg nodded. “Play 'em. They look a better bet.”
* * * * *
“Paige,” Jack called as the girl strode up his drive. “Paige!”
“What?” Paige snapped, and he looked at his fiery friend.
“I'm sorry,” he muttered. “Look, really I am. I shouldn't have said what I did.”
“No, you shouldn't,” Paige thundered.
“But I want us to continue,” he promised her in a soft, warm voice. “Really I do.”
“But that means all of us being naked. We are the Bare Necessities, after all. You can't have the Bare Necessities with only two of the three bare. We'd be all wrong.”
“I will be naked. You are right, I do love the sense of freedom and love recording those songs. Those weeks really were among the happiest days of my life, and when we did the set in the pub, all I could think of was those hours recording our music with you and Claire.” Paige blinked, and he sighed. “Yeah, I shouldn't be so worried. The chances that Mum and Dad will come across me naked is so slim I shouldn't worry, should I? And Harriet is just trying to scare me, I think. She'll forget about it soon.”
Paige's smile flickered. “But it shouldn't matter if they do find out. Do you think that my parents approve of everything I do in my life?” Jack hummed, and she crossed her arms. “Do you think it's worth it?”
“What?”
“All the trouble you are getting off Harriet and you having to tiptoe around your family. Is it worth it?”
Jack nodded as he thought. “Yes,” he squeaked and cleared his throat. “Umm … yes, definitely. I think that second gig we did was just incredible. I keep thinking back to it.”
Paige laughed coyly. “Glad I'm not the only one. We should go do it again.” Jack bit his lip and she looked at him. “You do want to do it again?”
“In a heartbeat,” he promised her.
“Good! Now Claire said she wanted to meet me here today. What's going on?”
Jack beamed. “My parents are in Paris for the weekend, my sister is away to the villa of her friend's parents. Dorset or something. Lucinda's not home from her night out but she said she was going to find her inner drunk, so God knows where she is. So we have the house to ourselves, and Claire has got a call from a couple of agents that want to sign us up.”
“Fuck, really? And you want to be signed up by an agent? 'Cause then you might get recognised by your parents.”
Jack gulped. “Yeah, that had occurred to me. I sort of reasoned that they would be less likely to have a problem with it if I had a record deal. A sort of, look how well I'm doing, don't look at the method, look at the end result.” Paige grunted derisively. “Yeah, I know. Wishful thinking maybe, but this is your big chance. And Claire's big chance. I can't fuck that up for you. And, if they find out, I can handle it. It's not a problem,” he boasted with a nervous quiver to his voice. “At least I think I can.”
Paige kissed him on the cheek and held his hand, leading him up to their studio. Claire was waiting for them and had made drinks for them all, before showing them the notes she made from the agents that rang.
While they waited Jack switched on the radio. “Turn him off,” Claire moaned when the talk show host came through the speakers.
“Who is it?”
“It's Peter Moran. The ex-newspaper editor,” Claire moaned. “He just criticises anyone with any talent.” They listened as he patronised the recent music awards winner, and moralised over the winner's sexual integrity before Claire got annoyed and tuned it to another station.
Their first appointment arrived on time, and the impeccably dressed Nathaniel Stevenson was retrieved from Jack's drive by Claire and shown into the little reception room of the studio. Claire gave the sharp-suited agent a quick tour of the two rooms, and he sat down on the sofa, putting his file and phone on the table.
“Hey, is that the new iPhone?” Claire asked, and he nodded.
“Ahh, brilliant,” he replied. “Cost a fortune, but well worth it. Now, guys to business. Do you want to be naked now, Paige, 'cause I don't mind?” Paige shook her head. “Pity, I like redheads.” Paige turned her nose up at the arrogant gentleman, but he didn't notice and looked at Claire. “I can see you are the smart one. Now, what I would suggest we do, is look at your nakedness. Sure, the music's good, but naked chicks, now that sells. I want to see DVDs and CDs. Tours. I want to see lesbian action on stage between you and the redhead. Maybe get some people on stage to …”
“You've missed the point,” Paige thundered. “I am not naked so people can get their kicks.”
Nathaniel snorted. “Yes you are, love.”
“No I am not.”
“Listen love, you are. I know it, and you know it. Maybe it's a thrill for you. Maybe it turns you on or gets you all steamy. I don't know. But you are naked, let's exploit that. It's your signature. And guys want to see girl-on-girl, and they want to see tongue and plenty of rumours. We'll have newspaper rumours that you two are planning on getting married, and the guy here, he gets to watch. We'll call him the luckiest guy in the land, and …”
“I am finding you somewhat offensive,” Claire interrupted him.
“Hey, it's just the way the music business works,” he told her. “Everyone needs plenty of back story and copy for the gossip columns.” Paige sniffed. “Your music, yeah, it's good. But it's not enough now. All the X Factor winners have plenty of back story. You need that today. It's just the way it works.”
“The way you and your agents make it work,” she corrected him, and he nodded.
“Yeah, so what? Anyway, thinking of a sex tape. Nothing moves a celebrity's status like some dirty filth on camera.”
“And you take a cut of this?” Paige asked and he just laughed. “So you can buy brand new phones, like this?” Paige picked up the white mobile phone, and she threw it up in the air.
“Don't do that,” he snapped as his facial expression changed and she caught his new phone.
“Want it?” He nodded, and she smiled. “Well, I would like you to leave,” Paige told him. “Because you have only been here for five minutes and you have offended me, Claire and Jack. So I reckon where this goes, you'll go.” She smiled sweetly at him, and threw his phone so that it arced perfectly in the air and sailed out of the open window.
He stared at her for a split second as the phone made a crunch on the pavement. “That's my bloody phone. You dirty filthy lesbo bitch, you'll pay for that, I'll …” He didn't get to finish the sentence as Jack picked him up by the scruff of the neck and dragged him down the corridor before throwing him out of the studio front door.
“Don't talk to Paige like that,” he yelled and positioned a kick at his rear end as the agent stumbled down the stairs. “And don't come back.” The agent hurled some abuse at Jack before picking up his broken phone and wheel-spinning his car in a hurry.
“Can you believe that?” Paige asked as Jack returned. “God I hope the other two don't do that.”
Claire gave a nervous smile and hesitated. “Well the next one was a bit creepy on the phone.”
“Oh great. Do we actually need an agent? I don't even know what they do.”
Claire hummed and looked at Jack. “Shall we have another go at Cotton Tails? I think someone needs to calm down,” she said, looking at Paige with a glare. “Can't belie
ve you did that to his phone!”
Their peace was shattered half-an-hour later when “Philip T A Fletcher-Smythe” rang Claire's mobile and she retrieved him from Jack's drive after the three of them got dressed. Once again, she showed him the studio, and he snorted in derision.
“Yeah it's a nice amateur set up,” he told them in his nasally, posh voice and looked at Paige as he came into the reception room. “You guys are amateur. But I came to see the star.”
“Pardon?”
“You,” he told her. “Your songs were good, I liked 'em, but your voice, love. Ahhh, it's pretty sweet. And I came to get you. I've got a couple of top notch songwriters who will fight bears to get your voice on the end of their songs, and I got some cracking guitar players who could make some serious music.”
“So you want Paige, and only Paige?” Claire asked, and she looked at Jack. “Well we know our musical ability is nothing compared to Paige's singing …”
“I don't like this,” Paige interrupted. “We started together.”
“But we formed to give your voice a platform,” Jack told her. “We did this to get to this moment. We've served our purpose.”
“No,” Paige said firmly. “You came to see the Bare Necessities not Paige Simmons.”
“I came to see you,” he corrected her and in a sanctimonious tone continued. “And listen, I can take your tracks to half-a-dozen A&R people. Top, top, people who will listen and I reckon we can get an advance on an album. Maybe twenty, maybe fifty thou. And you can break free of this. Your voice needs better and I can give you that. Think of it, fast cars, luxurious apartment, proper entourage. Jetting around the world. More money in the bank than an African country. Just move on. Like a star striker playing for Crystal Palace when Arsenal come calling. I can make your dreams come true, Paige.”
Paige gulped. “My voice …” She started and licked her lips as she thought. “It doesn't work without these two and what they bring. Our music doesn't work without them.”
He snorted. “Those songs aren't bad, but they are not Premier League. Your voice, could be. Really one of the best in the world. With my help.”
Paige laughed. “I don't think so,” she said firmly.
Phillip Fletcher-Smythe looked at Jack. “You tell her 'cause that's the problem with her sort. They're so used to having nothing, they don't know what they have got.” He gave a forced laugh and sneered.
The Bare Necessities Page 11
