Little Spirit

by DaNeo Duran

  Meanwhile Trudie had called Calvin to the van. ‘T-shirts?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah please. I was going to take thirty but a lot of the crowd already have them. Some of your guys have turned up with Little Spirit banners to wave. I’ll take twenty … no, I will take thirty. Might need extra and if not I’ll hand them out around Vanquar.’

  ‘As you wish,’ Calvin said thinking how cool it would be to have the Vanquar staff displaying the band name. Trudie handed him the cash.

  When Calvin ran back to the stage Des appeared and requested a quick word. The band now ready to play formed a huddle.

  ‘I’m about to address the crowd but just so as you know during the first pass of the song we’ll be filming them whilst they’re still being natural and fresh. Basically don’t worry that there’s no camera on you to start with. Just relax and play along with the recorded track. Your mics are going off so do sing out if that helps. We’ll probably go through the song ten times to make sure we’ve got what we need by which time the audience may get restless. I’ll help keep them encouraged with the promise of tea and biscuits. Any questions?’

  ‘I do,’ Raphael said. ‘We mime along to ze track but how will I know when to start?’

  ‘Excellent question. You’ll get the same two bar count you play live with through your headset monitors. Beep-bop-bop-bop Beep-bop-bop – dra dada,’ Des said miming air drums.

  Given that they’d be miming Calvin figured he had nothing to remember and therefore nothing could go wrong. With that he didn’t feel his usual nervous self. Instead he felt silly.

  On stage he stood beside Raphael’s drums watching Des jog round the side of the crowd to address them away from the stage. He saw the crowd’s attention turn away from the stage towards Des. Even though Calvin had mimed along in his own room, dancing around in front of real people seemed ridiculous. Or, so he felt until from the other side of the room Des called, action.

  As stage smoke billowed from its machine Calvin turned to see Raphael taught with concentration. Then with a sharp intake of breath he performed his snare drum fill and began playing. Calvin turned to face front as the studio recorded drums cracked around the stage and out to the crowd who lunged towards the sound. Along the front of the stage a camera aimed at the charging rabble whizzed past Calvin’s nose.

  Despite the audience not seeming to care, Calvin guessed Danny must have been feeling similarly maladroit as he sidled up displacing the balance of the stage and not helping Calvin who still had nothing to do for a further eight bars during Danny’s rock riff. Calvin’s mind ran ahead as he thought to the hey-yeah vocal that would come in with the bass.

  Calvin readied himself for the stop that he’d fill with bass to kick off the intro chorus. When it came he pulled the strings as he would normally and, because he heard bass, he felt the same as had he played it. He took the mic and sang his hey-yeah line just as normal and felt incredible seeing through the stage lights the faces of an ecstatic crowd.

  At the end of the song Des called, ‘Cut. Excellent everyone.’

  Cameras re-angled amidst a flurry of technicians and on Des’s instruction the band performed the song again this time the cameras caught long shots of the stage. Feeling wholly different Calvin jumped hard on his springboard to the delight of everyone not least of all Des.

  ‘Next we’ll focus on the drums,’ Des said. Calvin stood aside to allow rails to be laid around the kit.

  ‘Great stuff,’ Des said with another take bagged. Lifting the rails created room for a camera on a boom. During that take Calvin performed as he would normally but kept sneaking looks behind where the camera floated like a bumblebee above Raphael and down low where he’d be stamping his kick drum pedal.

  Having relaxed into the situation Calvin rocked out when the time arrived for his shots. Down in one take, Des said they had plenty recorded and after focusing the cameras on Danny he called for one final take.

  This time three beautiful girls appeared near the front. From the drums Raphael didn’t see much other than the crowd parting as the girls approached wearing Little Spirit T-shirts and shiny wigs – one black, one white and one blue.

  ‘Okay this time, guys on stage, can you focus your performance on these girls?’

  Off they went for the final take. Calvin wondered why they hadn’t been brought on sooner. Maybe they’d only been hired for a set time, maybe they didn’t want the models getting knocked about or sweaty.

  With cameras rolling Calvin and Danny converged to face the girls. Calvin guessed each one had been told which musician to stare at. Whatever he did, the one in the white wig wouldn’t shift her attention from Raphael. He soon found his girl. Though girls being bought in to ‘love’ the band seemed fraudulent the feeling of cheating took on a new meaning once he focused on the babe in a blue wig. Like Katherine she had dark eyes smouldering with attitude that seemed to question why it had taken him so long to find her. But now he had she wore the expression of a woman who’d stop at nothing to get what she wanted and Calvin, now feeling treacherous more than fraudulent, didn’t doubt what she wanted.

  ‘Cut,’ Des shouted and Calvin suddenly realised the song had ended.

  He looked at Danny. Danny said, ‘Wow.’

  When Calvin looked back at his model he saw the blue hair walking away. She glanced back and giggled. ‘What just happened there?’ Calvin asked.

  ‘I don’t know. Was yours really intense?’ Danny said.

  ‘I think we should find the girls,’ Calvin said. ‘Our girls, I mean.’

  ‘Give me a sec. I don’t think I should take my guitar off yet.’

  * * *

  The crowd broke and queues formed outside the catering room. Katherine, Amy and Grace had remained behind the mash of people. The crowd’s unwavering energy throughout the morning’s shoot meant the girls couldn’t have felt hotter at a real gig.

  Grace looked to the area being rearranged into a dance floor. ‘I wonder if we’ll get to be in all Little Spirit videos?’

  ‘If my exams weren’t in eight weeks I’d be sneaking onto The USed Wonz set tomorrow,’ Amy said.

  ‘Here they are,’ a voice said. Katherine turned seeing Richard approaching with Trudie and The USed Wonz.

  Katherine thought the band looked tired. ‘How are you feeling today?’

  ‘Jetlag’s a real killer,’ Johnny said. ‘You three are looking wonderful in Little Spirit colours.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Katherine said finding The USed Wonz difficult to read.

  ‘Have you been up long?’ Grace asked.

  ‘No,’ Johnny said ahead of anyone else. ‘But we’ve been measured for Anthony Price suits.’

  ‘Apparently they’ll be ready for the shoot,’ Stu the drummer said.

  Though Stu said little he seemed more regular Katherine thought. Johnny usually spoke first but gave very little of himself away. She detected something in his cockney accent she didn’t buy but wondered if it couldn’t be the American creeping in. Most men’s gazes would linger a little longer on well turned out women but Johnny so far hadn’t. Katherine dismissed that he might be gay on account of his obvious masculinity; something that went beyond his alpha status. The girls had shown up with different sweatshirts but looked equally dowdy as the night before. In Katherine’s experience, only women who’d given up on sex or felt very confident in their sexuality failed to look at her with a touch of contempt. The USed girls seemed unaffected.

  Trudie looked at clipboard notes. ‘I’m afraid USed Wonz you’ve missed Little Spirit rocking out for today. They’re just cooling off but will be back into makeup and then we’ll start on the dance floor shots; if you want to stay for that.’

  The USed Wonz shrugged. Trudie turned the page. ‘Tomorrow is the beach shots.’

  ‘Des mentioned a beach. What’s that all about?’ Amy asked and chuckled.

  Trudie rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah I know. Would you believe right now they’re building a cocktail bar in a sandpit in front of
a Hawaiian backdrop?’

  ‘Sounds great I could use a G and T,’ Mazz said.

  Grace had told Katherine that major record companies operated with military precision and noted that everything then proceeded just as Trudie described.

  From their vantage points the girls hadn’t seen much of the models other than wigs and Little Spirit T-shirts. Before the lads came out of makeup the three models exited still wearing colourful wigs but tight dresses that scarcely covered their buttocks and high heeled stilettos. Amy looked at Katherine horrified.

  ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll,’ Katherine said. ‘We knew this would happen.’ She trusted Calvin but watching the swaying rumps heading for the dance floor wondered which one Danny would dance with and how Amy would feel.

  * * *

  ‘Did you see our models?’ Calvin asked them when the band came out.

  Katherine asked, ‘Which one’s yours babe?’

  Touching her face he looked into her eyes. ‘Blue hair, but it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Oh behave you two,’ Amy said.

  ‘Let’s get a good position whilst we still can,’ Grace said heading to the dance floor.

  * * *

  Raphael felt excited amongst the dance floor crowd, the lights and the three models in their dresses of either black, white or blue.

  Des addressed the crowd telling them once the music started to dance as they would at a disco.

  ‘Boys and girls don’t be afraid to dance with each other,’ he said. Looking around he said, ‘We could do with some snoggers.’

  Des had told the band they’d not be kissing their models but Raphael watched aghast when Des put a hand on Grace’s shoulder and asked, ‘Are you okay with a bit of background snogging?’

  ‘Sure,’ she said surprising Raphael who thought she’d be way too shy to agree especially with her uncle lurking out of shot.

  Keeping a hand on Grace’s shoulder, Des scanned for a partner. ‘Would you snog this guy?’ he asked her pointing to a suitably fetching lad.

  Getting no sense that she’d object Raphael felt irrationally aggrieved. Without knowing why stepped forward. Des had released Grace and Raphael put both hands on her shoulders. ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’

  ‘Why not?’ Grace turned to Des. ‘It’s just a stage kiss right?’

  ‘Whatever feels most natural,’ he said. ‘You’ll be in the background anyway.’

  ‘There you are, it’s fine.’

  ‘If you’re sure,’ Raphael said stepping back but biting his lip.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Calvin asked him.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Mate you can’t behave the way you do then get all moralistic about a stage kiss,’ Danny said.

  ‘I know, but I just did.’

  Soon the music started and everyone danced. The cameras snaked around on rails. The models kept out of shot to start with. The music would stop in order that someone could come and give dance lessons to those doing too little or too much. The overly arrhythmic found themselves moved from the camera’s travels. Grace and her stage boyfriend snogged stopping only when Des called cut.

  Happy with what he saw Des brought the models in and shooting resumed with the dancing crowd and band members strutting around his designated female target. Des called cut and the choreographer appeared to give the band lessons in salsa dancing.

  Calvin with a firm command of rhythm and having performed the song on stage many times felt a little put out when the instructions seemed so basic. Each band members would essentially provide support for his model who, would lean backwards against his chest stretching out a leg. The models would spin round, shake hips and flick coloured hair before approaching her musician, hook a leg round him and arch back and point breasts to the ceiling; like boiled eggs in eggcups Calvin thought.

  As the shoot progressed he considered speaking out sensing the dance would bring naffness to the video he thought might otherwise have credibility. Appreciating the luck they’d landed in getting the shoot he kept quiet.

  To his right Danny looked uncomfortable but to his left Raphael seemed to have fallen into his acting role and had no problem locking eyes with the woman hanging from his neck.

  Calvin’s blue haired friend wore her lustiest expression forcing Calvin to periodically break eye contact for fear he’d succumb and kiss her.

  Fortunately the rest of the shoot involved the models moving through the dancing throng and a boy, girl line-up where on the count of three everyone clapped though nobody knew why.

  ‘Cut,’ Des called ages later. ‘Let’s wrap it up there for today. Very well done everybody.’

  Only when amongst the exodus for the doors did Danny spot Stosh. ‘There you are. How you doing?’

  ‘Great,’ Stosh said. ‘Well not so great actually. I’ve just found out I’m being turfed out my flat in two months. The owners are putting it back on the market. But well done today.’

  ‘Looks like it’ll be a decent video,’ Danny said.

  ‘It should be with Des at the helm.’

  ‘Hope so,’ Danny said. He turned the conversation back to Stosh. ‘Sorry to hear about your housing problems. Where are you at the moment?’

  ‘Watford.’

  ‘Really, that far out? Are you looking to move closer to the city?’

  ‘Would be nice, but who knows?’

  Cutting in, Amy said, ‘I’m off now Danny.’

  ‘Aren’t you coming to The Marquee?’

  ‘Too worried about exams, I need to revise.’

  ‘I’m gutted,’ Danny said not able to look at her. ‘Can we at least give you a lift to the city?’

  ‘You’ve got all the gear to pack. Trudie’s going now so I’ll catch a lift with her.’

  Forgetting about Stosh, Danny said, ‘Thanks for coming today. And for being so beautiful.’

  * * *

  Amy would have gone to The Marquee and would have loved to see The USed Wonz but she feared breaking her promise to do some study every day.

  An hour later she stepped onto Chingford Mount Road but seeing a bus pull away chose to walk the few stops.

  She made slow progress in her new heels. The wind caught her hair. She pulled her jacket tight.

  She hadn’t stepped far enough for her feet to hurt before she heard a lad shouting.

  Looking across the street she dismayed seeing both dreadful lads from the horrendous night at the Hippodrome months earlier. Pretending to ignore them she marched on but they crossed the road advancing. Amy spun round seeking escape but every shop had already closed.

  Putting her head down she forged onwards. She dismissed the notion of crying for help sensing passers-by would want no part of her turmoil. Plus the lads so far hadn’t actually done anything.

  Her outfit made her vulnerable but she didn’t know if she’d run even if she’d worn jeans and trainers.

  As the lads bore down on her, the first one she’d danced with that night moved in front and threw out a halting hand. Amy sidestepped but the next lad blocked her way and bumped her none too gently.

  ‘Is it my birthday already?’ he said.

  With the first lad now behind sandwiching her, Amy still hugging herself screeched, ‘Leave me alone or I’ll call the police.’

  The first lad yanking a lock of her hair said, ‘Call the police? We haven’t done anything.’

  ‘Yeah, you’re the violent one from what I remember,’ the second lad said.

  ‘Hows about I calls the police?’ a third male voice sounded.

  The lads looked towards it. Amy twisted in the lad’s grip and saw a stocky dark haired man around thirty facing them. One hand held a motorbike helmet the other clenched into a whitening fist.

  ‘Won’t be necessary,’ one of the lads said. Amy didn’t care which.

  She didn’t care when the other turned away saying, ‘We’re leaving.’

  ‘No you ain’t,’ the man said putting his helmet down.

  The first lad ma
de to run but the man grabbed an arm. Amy stepped backwards as the startled lad swung a badly aimed haymaker. The man leaned out its way and using the momentum put him in an arm lock. The lad squealed but, perhaps out of shock, fell silent when the man kicked the backs of his legs slamming his knees to the ground.

  ‘You thinks I’m gonna let yous walk away after being so rude to this lady?’

  Amy’s heart thumped as fear turned to excitement.

  ‘Come on fella, let him go,’ the other lad said.

  ‘Shut it you.’ Nearly snapping the lad’s arm the man gripped a fist of hair to steer a reluctant face towards Amy. ‘Terrorising anyone especially ladies in’t tolerated. Now what do yous say to her?’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  The man brought even more pain by standing on the Achilles tendon.

  ‘Come on fella, that’s enough.’

  ‘Says you’re sorry and make sure I believes you.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ the lad almost sobbed with abandoned self-respect.’

  ‘What about you?’ the man barked at the second lad.

  He faced Amy and said, ‘I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to terrorise you. We were just having fun.’

  ‘You’ve a sick idea of fun,’ Amy said.

  ‘Well said.’ The man loosened his grip. ‘How are yous gonna behave if you see this lady in the future?’

  ‘We’ll be nice,’ the still arm locked lad said.

  ‘We’ll stay out your way,’ the second lad said. ‘You won’t see us again.’

  Amy looked at the man who asked her, ‘You satisfied?’

  She nodded. ‘You can let them go.’

  Amy caught a look of fearsome anger in the man’s face but it evaporated before he thankfully said, ‘Right, clear off the pair of yers.’

  The lads couldn’t have been more than two steps into their escape before Amy forgot them seeing only her knight in shining armour.

  He asked, ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m Amy.’

  The man stooped to pick up his helmet. ‘Marlon, pleased you’re alright an’ all.’

  Finally Amy’s arms relaxed. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m great,’ he said. ‘The only way this’s getting better is taking you for a drink – right now.’

  Amy remembered her studies but Marlon persuaded her whisky would be the restorative she required. She compromised by letting him buy her an Irish coffee in the café.

  Marlon sat across the table and stared at her the way Calvin stared at Katherine.