Little Spirit

by DaNeo Duran

  Gareth asked Stosh, ‘What does the singer do?’

  ‘Jason, he develops software.’

  ‘Me too, who’s he gone to work for?’

  ‘Can’t remember. Wait, it’s a substantial company, the one with the American kid at the helm.’

  ‘Microsoft?’

  ‘Sounds familiar. He mentioned DOS?’

  ‘Leave it with me I’ll find him.’ Gareth took a note of the singer’s name. ‘I’ll get my secretary to chase this up.’

  ‘It’s the weekend you know?’ Danny said.

  ‘True, I’ll get her on it first thing Monday morning.’

  Raphael said, ‘First thing Monday morning – not a time we recognise in Rock ‘n’ Roll.’

  ‘No. I’ll leave that to you guys, ‘Gareth said. ‘Although, I did make a guitar out of Lego once.’

  He flicked through a Daily Star someone had left behind. ‘Speaking of Rock ‘n’ Roll have you seen this?’

  Everyone looked at the image of Danny signing autographs on page-7 underneath the headline: Is this the hardest band in Britain? A paragraph said Smash Hits had asked whether rising stars Little Spirit are ‘the hardest working band in Britain?’ The newspaper described Danny’s fracas as per an eyewitness before reiterating the question: ’Is this the hardest band in Britain?’

  ‘No publicity’s bad publicity,’ Raphael said.

  Monday 21st May 1984

  The phone rang. Amy took it.

  Having taken residence of the settee again, Raphael woke when Calvin and Danny joined him a moment before Amy arrived waving a pad of paper.

  ‘That was John,’ she said. ‘People have been busy.’

  ‘What do you know?’ Raphael said.

  ‘Gareth’s secretary contacted Microsoft through their connections and left a message of urgency for Jason Chapman—’

  ‘Ze singer?’

  Amy nodded. ‘He rang Gareth’s secretary back saying he’s pleased for his uncle knowing there’s still interested tenants. Understandably his uncle was devastated when it all fell through. Anyway he said he’d phone his mum, the uncle’s sister, and sort out.’

  ‘So where are we now?’ Calvin asked.

  ‘Gareth’s secretary gave John’s number to Jason. Evidently messages have been passed about and John’s just had a call from the uncle – the man himself.’

  ‘The landlord, blimey.’

  Amy checked her notes. ‘The uncle’s called Leyton Green. Apparently there’re lots of tenants interested. Leyton also said that the rent was reduced to “mates’ rates” on account of the previous deal involving family.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound so good now,’ Danny said.

  ‘Maybe but John thinks he’s bluffing. He’ll come with us and make sure we get a fair price.’

  ‘Nice one,’ Calvin said.

  ‘So,’ Amy said checking her notes again, ‘tomorrow we need to check if Grace is on-board and whether Stosh can meet us for a viewing. John’s agreed a 6pm meeting at the properties so let’s hope it’s quiet enough in the pub for Katherine to get away early.’

  ‘Well done Amy.’

  ‘That’s not all. John says if we’re to argue the rent we need to know the going rates so we should get across early and visit the letting agents.’

  ‘If we have to move quick,’ Danny said frowning, ‘what do with do with this place?’

  ‘Pay till the end of the agreement,’ Calvin said without missing a beat.

  ‘Not like you to be so frivolous with money mate.’

  ‘Tenancy’s up end of June so it’s no biggy. It shouldn’t matter now but I’d prefer idiots like Brian didn’t know where we live. The sooner we cut our losses and move on the better.’

  Tuesday 22nd May 1984

  At 6pm that evening the three bandmates, two girls and Stosh stood on Ennerdale Close behind North Circular Road.

  ‘A perfect pair,’ Raphael said looking at the two houses.

  ‘Don’t let the landlord know that,’ Amy said.

  ‘Keep our cards close to our chest I know but look at ze drive.’

  ‘Here comes boss-man,’ Danny said spotting John’s Jaguar XJ-S pull into the close.

  When he got out he asked about their rental evaluations. Stosh told him but the initial deal Leyton Green had offered couldn’t be beaten. By the time Leyton turned up a crowd of ten had gathered. Grace’s mum, Faith talked for Grace and everyone else until having looked both houses over John took over the negotiations.

  It seemed that although Leyton had been gutted when the previous deal fell through he had found serious interest in one of the houses at higher rent.

  John went to the boot of his Jag and produced a briefcase. They all headed into what they hoped would be one their new dining rooms.

  With paper, pen and calculator John worked figures and magic, illustrating how Leyton would save money on letting agent’s fees and avoiding down periods where the other house would be empty.

  Even Faith kept quiet and John convinced Leyton to go ahead on both houses at the original rates provided they paid the first six months in advance which everyone agreed would come from the ample Vanquar advance with Stosh paying his first term’s rent to the Little Spirit bank account.

  Before Leyton could back out Richard wrote the cheque and Leyton handed over the keys.

  Wednesday 23rd May 1984

  The deal on the new houses came together so quickly there wouldn’t have been time to move without a dawn start. Richard allowed Grace a day off and Stosh’s guitarist mate helped him move – gutted that he’d missed out on living with the girls. Stosh offered him one of the box rooms but he declined the smaller room.

  Raphael chose the attic room of the first house, Number-8, with Stosh and Danny taking the first floor rooms.

  Danny and Amy agreed to live in separate houses but have sleepovers as they saw fit.

  Grace took the attic in the other house, Number-10, pleased to be sharing with Amy and Katherine and Calvin.

  Katherine left midmorning to go to work and by 3pm the band drove Stosh into London and headed on to Wembley Arena to take the first support slot for Brewster Springfield.

  * * *

  At 11pm all the tenants congregated in the dining room of Number-10 excited to have new places to live but mostly excited to hear how Little Spirit had got on.

  ‘It was alright,’ Danny said.

  ‘Only alright?’ Grace asked.

  ‘Richard did warn us. And he was spot on. We’re only there to warm the crowds up for Springfield. It simply wasn’t our crowd.’

  ‘I understand,’ Stosh said. ‘The crowd buy tickets for Springfield and in that state he’s all they want.’

  ‘So much for the book The Crowd.’

  ‘The best support bands I’ve seen are the ones who know their place. They make out like they’re there to see the main act too,’ Stosh said.

  ‘Like we’re all in it together?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘That should get ze audience on our side,’ Raphael said.

  ‘Did you see him?’ Stosh asked.

  ‘Springfield?’ Raphael said. ‘No, not backstage anyway.’

  ‘Okay well the fans don’t need to know that. Tell them Brewster Springfield’s backstage. They’ll go nuts. Tell them he’s getting ready and whilst he does that you’re gonna play some songs. They’ll be much more receptive.’

  ‘Roll on tomorrow’s gig,’ Raphael said cheerfully.

  Thursday 31st May

  The following Thursday Amy finished her exams. Katherine couldn’t join her in celebration as she had to work her last ever shift in The Dog and Parrot and didn’t finish until after 11pm. And with Danny still away in Sheffield on the last night of Springfield’s UK tour she didn’t feel too celebratory despite having convinced herself she’d done well.

  Her feelings soon changed though as, after midnight the van reversed onto Number-8’s drive and partying broke out. Not only had Katherine finished her time at the p
ub but Trudie had assigned her a band to style on her return from Saint Tropez.

  Calvin topped Katherine’s glass up.

  ‘Not too much baby. Remember me and Amy are flying first thing and people have been buying me drinks all night.’

  ‘Sorry love, have you got everything packed?’

  ‘I have,’ Katherine said with a hiccup. ‘And I’ve done your packing for Brighton too.’

  Friday 01st June 1984

  The next morning at 8am Katherine’s alarm sounded. By 9am both she and Amy had kissed their partners goodbye; not that their lips felt much through exhaustive hangovers. They tiptoed each jarring step to the nearby train station.

  Katherine and Amy had expected to buy flights to the Mediterranean but the ever generous John had timed things with a business jet and three hours later the girls and John boarded the plane. They sat with coffees when the ‘Fasten Seatbelts’ light came on.

  Two hours later following fluid and a little more sleep the plane made its final descent. An hour after that and Katherine lost Amy and herself in the hugging arms of more Saint Tropez friends than she’d ever seen around the marina.

  Though the holiday season hadn’t fully begun Katherine, whilst being swept along to the yacht club by a thirty strong group under a brilliant blue sky, noticed a scarcity of spare berths and a high degree of busyness. She remembered that the previous day had been the Ascension Day national holiday so of course many French people would be taking an extra day off and enjoying the extended weekend.

  At the bar Elaine handed her an erupting champagne flute.

  ‘I’d rather just have a lime and soda,’ Katherine said accepting the glass anyway.

  ‘No soda when there’s champagne,’ Elaine said. ‘It’s the day before the happiest day of my life. I must have had a bottle already. You need to catch up.’

  ‘By the look on your face I’d say today’s the happiest of your life.’

  ‘Probably. I’m just so happy to see you again Katherine. I’m just so sorry for all that rubbish months ago.’

  ‘Elaine I’m sorry, I’m still so embarrassed. I don’t know how I’ll ever make it up to you.’

  ‘But you … you’ve no idea have you?’

  ‘No idea about what?’

  ‘You,’ Elaine said and pinched Katherine’s cheek playfully.

  ‘Are you sure you haven’t drunk a case of this stuff?’

  ‘I wasn’t supposed to say anything,’ Elaine said looking over her shoulder conspiratorially, ‘but there was just the teensiest problem with the venue.’

  Katherine’s face fell. ‘I bloody knew something was amiss.’

  ‘No, no, shush.’ Elaine made flamboyant calming gestures. ‘Your wonderful mum, she’s sorted it all out. It’s going to be the best wedding ever. I can’t believe you kept her from us.’

  ‘My mum? What are you on about Elaine? And that venue was lovely. What could possibly go wrong?’

  ‘Shush,’ Elaine put her arm round her. ‘It was lovely but at Christmas there was a get together in Scotland and suddenly the number of guests went up. We needed a bigger place. John told your mum and somehow we ended up with a bigger venue. Katherine you look upset. None of this is your fault.’

  ‘I don’t understand. Is my mum off on some glory seeking quest?’

  ‘No, she’s done us a massive favour.’

  ‘I don’t understand. You’re saying a year ago when we lived out here, right where you’re getting married we worked hard to find a venue and when it became too small my mum, who’s never even been here before John flew her out, sorts out a replacement venue two months before the big day?’

  ‘Yes. Well, it wasn’t quite like that but—’

  ‘It doesn’t make sense how does anyone find a venue that size so close to the date?’

  ‘I’m sure she’ll explain when she gets here.’

  ‘I don’t know why someone couldn’t just tell me. Why the need for secrecy and where’s Amy?

  Elaine looked around, ‘She’s there.’

  Looking in her direction Katherine saw Amy at the door of the bar looking lost. Elaine grabbed another champagne flute and waved her over.

  ‘I’m sorry to be tetchy; still feeling fragile after last night,’ Katherine said. ‘Tomorrow will be fantastic.’

  Amy joined them shielded her eyes. ‘God it’s bright out there.’

  ‘Maybe you’re dehydrated. Have some champagne,’ Elaine said handing her the glass.

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ Katherine asked.

  ‘I hung back with John. He says there’s an incredible liner sized yacht in Port Grimaud where we’ll be staying tonight and that’s where everyone’s going after the church.’

  ‘The venue’s a ship? Did he mention my mum arranged it?’

  ‘Err, he said you’re not supposed to know that?’

  ‘Did he tell you anything else I’m not supposed to know?’

  ‘No,’ Amy said sheepishly, ‘of course not.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Only that Barbara would explain everything when she arrived.’

  Katherine turned to see Loretta swanning in.

  ‘Thought it was you,’ Loretta said. Katherine returned her unconvincing hug. ‘Everyone’s drinking I see.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Katherine said. ‘Can I just ask how long have you known about this ship in the next bay?’

  Loretta’s smile waivered. ‘Aw, I hated not telling you.’

  Katherine shook her head. ‘Do you know why it’s a secret?’

  ‘No. I know your mum thinks the world of you. She made a point of saying that.’

  ‘She did,’ Elaine agreed. ‘Blimey it’s half five I dare say Barbara will be along shortly.’

  ‘I wonder whereabouts we’ll sleep?’ Amy said.

  Katherine wound her watch on an hour and didn’t look at anyone. ‘Probably the boiler room or some other rusty iron compartment.’

  Elaine and Loretta exchanged glances.

  Katherine managed to calm down as the number of people dwindled with the vanishing champagne.

  The girls found a table when John arrived and though the conversation lightened Katherine noticed Amy massaged her temples but hardly spoke and John appeared serious.

  An hour had passed when both Elaine and Loretta made to leave but bumped into Barbara coming in. Everyone stood up.

  Katherine couldn’t miss the confident stride, loose-styled blonde hair set off by a tan which contrasted remarkably with the fitted beige outfit.

  ‘You got a hug for your mum?’

  Katherine looked down at her mum’s heeled sandals and wondered how much they’d cost. She hardly recognised the lady who looked as though she stepped off the set of Dallas.

  ‘Katherine?’

  Looking up Katherine said nothing. Barbara turned to John. ‘What does she know?’

  ‘She knows you arranged the Perso Principessa.’

  ‘Who told her?’

  ‘Can’t hang around big day tomorrow,’ Elaine said fleeing with Loretta.

  Barbara turned back to Katherine and said, ‘Come on let’s get going.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere until this secrecy gets explained.’

  ‘How about I explain everything when we get on board.’

  ‘I presume Perso Principessa is the tin bath you’ve had tugged in.’

  Barbara’s jaw dropped. She stepped back but then she smiled. ‘Yes love, it’s all I could manage at short notice.’

  ‘Oh come here mum.’ Katherine drew her in for a hug. ‘There better be a good reason for all this.’

  John took them back to his boat where the girls picked up their luggage.

  ‘Will you be alright?’ he asked Barbara. Katherine and Amy left them to have a moment together before the three women took a bus journey along the Route Départementale coast road. Still shielding her eyes from the sun’s glare Amy regarded lush green trees pass and wondered whether they’d be such brilliant colours after summer’s dryness
. Ten minutes later the yachts of a far bigger marina appeared. Barbara got up first.

  On the baked pavement Katherine looked over the expansive network of quays and pontoons. ‘Where now?’

  Barbara pointed out to sea. ‘There.’

  Looking away from the marina Katherine saw a meringue-white super-yacht gleaming with newness. ‘My god, it really does look like a liner. How in all things holy did you sort that out?’

  ‘I promise all will be explained,’ Barbara said leading the way along to a pontoon where a man in a crisp white sailor’s uniform sat reading a book in a dinghy.

  ‘Good evening ladies,’ he said jumping to attention and offering an assisting hand. ‘I say in advance welcome aboard Perso Principessa. My name is Giovanni.’

  Once everyone had settled he ripped the outboard’s starter cord. Amy took her shoes off and sitting on the dinghy’s inflatable wall hooked her feet under the boat’s parallel wall.

  ‘Are you Italian?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Is that your yacht?’

  ‘Heavens no. I’m just one of forty crew members.’

  Leaning in for fear of toppling overboard Amy looked out with the sun behind them as the harbour wall passed revealing a clear sight of the offshore gin-palace.

  ‘How will all the wedding guests get aboard?’ she asked over the engine’s buzz.

  ‘This dinghy can tow up to twenty guests at a time on water skis,’ he said looking pleased with his wit. When Amy didn’t respond he said, ‘Gangplank. We’re berthing along Saint Tropez’s northern breakwater tomorrow.’

  Giovanni opened the throttle and in minutes had zoomed across crystal waters to the stern where Amy saw a low deck.

  ‘Ahoy,’ Giovanni shouted to another sailor. A moment later a portion of the deck lowered becoming a step.

  Safely aboard the sailor took Katherine and Amy’s bags. Barbara excused herself despite Katherine’s reluctance to let her go.

  Giovanni said, ‘Let me first show you where you’ll dine.’

  They walked along low ceilinged corridors to a magnificent dining room where a handful of guests relaxed enjoying the service.

  The walnut decoration and contemporary art almost took Amy’s breath away. ‘This is spectacular.’

  ‘Isn’t it? The wedding breakfast will be served here extending out on to the deck.’ Giovanni pointed to the glass doors. ‘Tonight however you will dine with the yacht’s owner. Follow me please.’

  He led them to a higher deck and a smaller vacant dining room with similarly opulent ornamentation.

  Giovanni looked at his watch. ‘Can I respectfully request you be here in forty-five minutes? The captain does not like to be kept waiting.’