Claire looked at her colleague and then nodded. “The organisers of the festival have demanded that we do not perform naked,” Claire announced. “Do you think this right or not?”
Paige held the microphone out to the crowd as a small volley of boos came from the festivalgoers. “Is that a yes or a no?” Paige asked and received a deafening sound of disapproval. “We better get naked then?” Paige replied, and all three of them took off their clothing and threw it to one side. They saw the furious glance of the festival organisers at the back of the crowd, but Claire just waved at them.
“We didn't go on stage naked,” Claire shouted to them with a smile. The naked Paige looked at Jack and Claire, and Jack started his introduction to Don't Leave Me. The small festival soon filled, and the Bare Necessities found themselves playing in front of a much larger crowd as the audience swelled.
They were a late addition to the line-up and were not on the posters advertising the festival. Claire had managed to get them as a warm-up act on a small stage in the mid-afternoon after a Scottish rock band had cancelled at the last moment, but as word spread that the Internet sensations were performing live, their admirers could not fit in the area assigned to them.
Paige could see the ever increasing numbers of people joining them and tried to get a few people to strip naked; the festival was not a clothing-optional site, but Paige promised that they would do an encore for as long as the festival organisers would allow if a dozen people stripped.
There was laughter, reticence and then nervousness as the demanding girl wandered up and down the stage, offering encouragement to various attendees who looked undecided. “Come on,” she told a teenage girl. “You can come and join me on stage!” The guy behind her hollered and Paige pointed at him. “And you, sir.”
Paige managed to get a number of people down to their underpants and the odd drunken patron to strip naked, and she started singing again. The festival organisers didn't object as the Bare Necessities overshot their allotted time by more than two hours, and as the band left the stage, Paige and her band mates received a raucous cheer.
The band got dressed, and Jack opened the boot to his car that was parked a few metres away. They had a couple of guys from the festival to help, but they loaded their equipment in the car while the musicians that followed them got set up. Paige had time for a little chat with them and was amazed at how well known she appeared to be.
“Watch out,” Claire muttered as two of the festival organisers strode over to the car, slipping in the churned up earth.
“What the hell was that?” The woman asked. “You promised us, you wouldn't be naked.”
“We promised you, we wouldn't go on stage naked,” Claire corrected her. “And we didn't. And we asked our audience if it was OK to perform like that and they said it was fine.”
The scowling woman crossed her arms. “We should have cut you off,” she spat.
“And then you would have had hundreds of angry people,” Jack reminded her.
“We made a promise to the Police and you have broken that. They will be furious.” Paige sneered in derision. “You are now banned from Stroud Festival,” she told them. “And we will not be paying you.”
“Hang on,” Jack told her. “We did three hours of music straight. We filled our stage. We …”
“Get out!” She hissed. “Or we will call the Police.”
“You haven't heard the last of this,” Claire warned her, and the three band members got into their car and, under the watchful eye of the organiser, drove into the service road, and out through the back of the estate to travel to a small hostel thirty-five miles away.
Paige was angry at their treatment, but didn't care too much about not being paid. “It was a massive audience,” she told them. “It shows we are popular.”
“And if we put on the website we were thrown out of Stroud, that'll get us notoriety,” Claire suggested.
“We don't want notoriety,” Paige replied. “Do we? We've enough of that.”
“No, well what could be better than being thrown out of a festival for being naked? That's awesome!”
Jack slowed on the country road and go around the bend and accelerated onto the straight when a car flashed its lights in his mirror. He ignored it, but the car flashed its lights again and again. A blue flashing light appeared, and Jack swore. “Might have a light out,” he moaned and slowed his vehicle to stop in a passing place.
The Policeman got out of the car and strode up towards Jack's vehicle. Jack opened his window. “What's up officer?”
“Paige Simmons, Claire Baynes, Jack Rees-Montague. I am arresting you contrary to the Sexual Offences Act 2003. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioning something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say will be written down and may be used as evidence against you. Do you understand?”
“Yeah,” Claire muttered and looked at Paige, stunned.
“What the fuck have we done?” Paige asked but was hauled out of the car before anything was explained to her.
Chapter XVI
“I need my belt,” Jack moaned. “Keep my trousers up.”
“After what you've been doing tonight, that should be the least of your worries.” Jack reluctantly passed the wisecracking Sergeant his black leather belt and Paige smirked at him. “Cell six.”
“I'll get us a lawyer,” Jack promised the two girls as he was led away and Paige was pushed forward.
“Name?”
“You know my name,” Paige told him with a scowl. “I was arrested, and the office knew my name.”
“She's an awkward one, Sarge.”
Paige's scowl deepened. “Perhaps I would be less awkward if I hadn't just been arrested and have no idea why.” The desk sergeant looked back at her and repeated his question. “Paige. Paige Simmons. Now can someone tell me what the fuck is going on? He said sexual offences, but I ain't touched nobody.”
“Address?”
“Why? I'm not going home, you're sticking me in a cell and I don't know why.” The sergeant tapped the desk and Paige sighed before responding angrily with her address.
“Date of birth?”
“Why do you need this? You are not going to send me a bloody birthday card. Now what the fuck is going on?” Paige asked with a snort.
“Listen missy, the quicker we get you in, the quicker you can get out. So quit with the bloody smart-arse comments.” Paige sneered and allowed herself to be “booked in” and taken to a cell. She refused access to a solicitor as she had “done nothing wrong” and had no desire to let anyone know she had been arrested. She kicked the cell door in anger and sat down on the thin mat in the corner of the room.
Racist and sexist graffiti adorned the cell and she took to reading some of it before sitting back on her mat. She looked at the door and took off her T-shirt, shorts and underwear before putting her shoes on – the floor did not look like she could trust it to be free of sharp edges.
Paige waited, thoroughly bored; why should they have been singled out for this treatment? She had a vague idea that the festival organisers had made a complaint, but they were on private land and could have stopped their show when they were in the middle of their performance. Surely, if they were that outraged they would have done something at the time instead of waiting for hours? Surely not paying them was a greater offence than a naked band playing without any clothes?
Paige kicked the wall and sat back down on the bed, thoroughly annoyed with the state. “When are you going to let us go?” Paige shouted at the door but got no answer.
An hour later, the door was opened, and the custody Sergeant groaned. “Get your clothes on, love.”
“Why? It's my right to be naked when I want to rest.”
“And it's my right to keep you here for 36 hours if I want to, so it's up to you. Get dressed and we can let you go, or don't, and you can stay here. You got five minutes.”
Paige grunted and
put her clothes back on and walked with the Sergeant to the small “booking-in” room. Jack was threading his belt back through his trousers, and Paige nodded. “What took you so long?”
“Had to get dressed,” Paige replied. She saw smiles on the faces of her friends and looked at the Sergeant.
“You are free to go,” he told her. He shrugged and passed her some forms to sign, including an inventory of her personal possessions. “You were on completely private property, and … well it's not in our interests to press charges.”
“You mean, it won't stick.” Paige snapped and crossed her arms. “So we got dragged ten miles here plus kept for like, three hours, and we haven't done anything wrong.”
“We had reasonable suspicion a crime had been committed,” the Sergeant replied with a stoic face. “And so we are duty bound to investigate.”
“And harass,” Claire added. “This has been ridiculous.”
“You haven't heard the last of this,” Paige warned, and was passed a leaflet about how to make a complaint to the Police, but she snatched her personal effects and strode angrily out of the room.
“I told my Dad,” he admitted. “And he said he would get a solicitor to phone the station and have words with them. I guess that might have frightened them a bit.”
“Really?” Claire asked. “Wow. I didn't want to spend all night there. Look at me, I'm shaking.” She yawned and they strode out into the Police car park.
“Paige. Claire. Jack. Is it true that you were arrested?” A voice asked, and they flinched when they saw camera bulbs go off. “Have you been charged? Will you be denying it? When is it in court? Is it true that …”
“Quick,” Jack cried and unlocked his car. “We better get to a hotel!”
Paige smiled at the three members of the press. “Yes, we were arrested and released,” she said with a grin. “Flaming liberties, harassing naturists like that. They want shooting!”
“Paige,” Claire called. “Stop telling the press you are pissed off and let's go!”
* * * * *
“It stops now,” Paul shouted and crossed his arms. He glared at Paige and Claire listening in as their keyboardist's father strode up and down their hotel bedroom. “Getting arrested with two tarts.”
“Oi,” Claire and Paige cried in unison. “We are not tarts,” Paige added.
Paul crossed his arms and pointed to the naked Paige. “Double bed, naked, do me a favour?”
“Why do people always believe that nudity is about sex?” Paige asked Claire, but Jack's father was not listening to her.
“Now, I have told you to come back, and you ignored me. If you do not come back, I shall torch your recording studio.”
“Why?” Paige asked him. “We are famous. Our music is popular. Why do you hate us so much?”
“Because you are cheap scum,” Paul spat back, and Claire put her hand on Paige's shoulder.
“That's not fair,” Jack shouted and jumped up from the bed. “We are enjoying ourselves, and making some music at the same time. There is nothing wrong with us at all.”
“Flaunting yourself is wrong. And it's against the law.”
“Actually …” Paige started.
“You are only free because I know some very good and very expensive lawyers,” Paul interrupted and jabbed his finger into the shoulder of his only son. “I am going home tomorrow, and you are coming home with me.”
“I don't want to,” Jack muttered.
The balding man swelled and clenched his fists. “I don't bloody care what you want. This madness has gone on long enough. You are coming home with me.”
“Can we have this discussion tomorrow?” Claire asked as she yawned. “It's midnight and talking about this at this time is madness.”
“You would do well to shut up,” he snapped. “I'll put your mother out of work if you don't let me speak to my son.”
“You what?” Claire cried, and Paige had to hold her friend's shoulder. “You can't …”
He sneered at her. “I know what you've been up to. Disgusting little girl …”
“I think we better continue this in the morning,” Jack suggested as he looked at Claire's face.
Paul glared at the two girls, and Paige crossed the room and put her arm through Jack's. “Come on. Come to bed,” she cooed and gave a grin to Paul. “We've had a long day. I really, really, really need a cuddle.”
Paul shuddered as he became lost for words, swore and told Jack that he would be back at 9am.
Jack flinched as the door slammed. “What do you do that for?” He asked, pushing Paige away from him. “He's even madder now.”
“Yeah well. He was getting on my nerves,” Paige replied instantly. “Why do you let him bully you?”
“I don't,” Jack replied. “He just thinks he knows best, and it's hard to argue.” He shrugged. “And you don't need me, do you? I mean, you are superstars now. I am not needed.”
“You are,” Paige and Claire told him together.
“Don't think you can get away from us that easily,” Paige cried. “You made me a promise. Jack, you promised me. You promised us. You can't leave us.”
He sighed and sat on the single bed. “I don't know. What would you do Claire? I know what Paige would do.”
Claire hummed while Paige objected to the generalisation and the guitarist looked at him. “I would do whatever makes you happiest,” she replied. “And I think Lucinda would say the same. And I would certainly want to finish the tour.”
He looked at Paige. “I know exactly what would make me happy, but not quite sure how to say it.”
“I'm happy to go see him and tell him to do one,” Paige said with a grin. “Or we could do a runner now and leave a note in our place.”
Jack yawned. “No. I'll face him tomorrow,” he murmured. “I at least owe him that.”
“You owe him a kick up the khyber,” Paige snapped.
* * * * *
“I am staying here,” Jack told his father as the girls listened in from the bathroom. “Well actually we are going to a naturist site near Oxford, but I want to stay with Paige and Claire.”
Paul took a few deep breaths. “What's got into you, man? This isn't a future. So you make the odd quid as a novelty act. Where's the long-term in that?”
“It makes me happy,” he told him. “I enjoy it. And if I can't enjoy life now, when can I do it?”
“Don't be ridiculous. Now pack your things and let's get out of here.”
“I am staying,” Jack said firmly. Paul tried to grab hold of his son, but Jack shook himself free of the grip. “Leave me alone.”
“Those girls are nothing, but cheap, tacky …” Jack pushed his father to stop him and yelled.
“They are my friends,” he thundered. “They are good, nice people. And we are enjoying ourselves. And so what if it's not long-term. I'm having a great time, and we are entertaining a lot of people.”
Paul gulped. “Are you really telling me that you would give up a place on the family firm, a chance to run a multimillion pound company for a few weeks touring with a couple of sluts?”
“I guess he is,” Paige said as she opened the door. “And I think the time has come for you to sling yer 'ook.” Jack gulped, and Paige looked at him. “Isn't that right?”
“Yes,” Jack muttered as Paige squeezed his hand. “I am a musician, not a businessman.”
Paul spluttered. “This has nothing to do with you,” he told the red-haired girl. “Nothing. And you'd be wise to shut …”
“Out,” Paige interrupted loudly and pointed at the door. “Fuck the fuckity fuck out. You're pissin' me off.”
Paul scowled at Paige's gleeful taunting and snorted. “This isn't over,” he shouted, and then left the room, slamming the door as he departed.
Paige turned to Jack. “Well done,” the red-haired teenager told him and kissed him on the cheek. “Present. For growing a pair. Eighteen years after you should have done but well done anyway.”
“How
is it, that all your compliments are always put-downs?” Jack asked her and Paige just shrugged.
“You wouldn't have her any other way,” Claire teased with a smirk. “Would you?”
“I guess not!”
* * * * *
“Who the hell are these people?” Jack whispered, and Claire shrugged.
“I don't know.”
The three musicians looked out of the hotel reception to see a small army of people waiting outside the hotel, and the receptionist looked coy. “They've been there since 6am,” she told them and shrugged. “I know who you are.”
“Us?” Jack asked. “What about us?”
“I know you are the Bare Necessities and that you were arrested last night. It was on the news.” Claire swore when she turned to see the large television screen in the hotel lobby and saw her face as they the left the Police station on the rolling news channel. “And one of the lead items on the news sites.”
“Wow!” Jack cried. “Who cares about us?” The receptionist wiped her face and then looked at Paige.
“I know it's a bit silly but can I have a picture?” She looked hopeful and when Paige gave a bemused “yes,” the receptionist passed her mobile phone to Jack and almost ran around the desk to stand next to the lead singer.
Jack took a handful of pictures and put the phone on the open page of the guest book. “So they are journos?”
“Yes,” the receptionist added excitedly. “They wanted to know what room you were in and all sorts.” The noise behind the pane of glass separating the hotel from the outside world became deafening, and Jack shrugged. “But I told them if they came into the hotel I would break their legs.” She giggled. “I'm a black belt in karate.”
Jack smiled. “Cheers. I guess we gotta go sometime,” he summarised and held his arms out. “Let's go face the bastards.” Claire and Paige took one hand each, and they walked confidently to the exit. “And Paige, no talking. You can't tease them like you teased my Dad.”
“Spoil my fun,” Paige muttered. Outside the hotel was one film crew and dozens of photographers, all of whom were spurred into action as the three musicians opened the door.
Paige flinched as light bulbs flashed in her face and Jack squeezed her hand. The pack of journalists surged towards them, and the three teenagers froze as the noisy assembly of journalists shouted questions at the band. “Wait,” Claire cried and gulped. “Please. What do you want with us?”
The Bare Necessities Page 16
