Dance On Fire - Chapter 04

Back at the hotel, Pete lay naked in bed, smoking a spliff and drinking Californian red wine from the bottle. He was watching Suzy packing her things away, ready for the morning. Pete noticed the yellow t-shirt she had worn earlier in the day on the edge of the bed. He picked it up and sniffed it. It smelt of Suzy.

Suzy dragged her overflowing bag off the bed, shrugged off her dress and got into the bed beside Pete. She reached behind her and put something down on the pillow next to Pete.

He turned to see what it was. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t… I’m too knackered.’ Pete turned off the tape recorder and handed it back to her.

Suzy pouted at him, but Pete just shook his head. She sighed and turned away from him.

Pete could feel the thought that had been slowly growing over the last few hours taking on its final shape. ‘Suzy?’

‘Yes?’

‘If you were at that gig the other night… last Friday? Then how did you get to be at the student party as well?’

‘Ah….’ Suzy turned back towards him and snuggled closer. Her hand moved slowly, down his chest and his stomach. ‘What’s his name… Jim… his car. It had room for four, remember?’

‘What?’

‘Don’t you remember? I was in the back seat with Allie, his girlfriend, holding her head out of the window while she threw up.’

‘But…?’

‘And another thing….’ Suzy’s hand was moving slowly, rhythmically. She leant towards him and kissed him. ‘Who do you think put you in my bed that night?’ She whispered. ‘Took all your clothes off, and would have… but you were already asleep.’

‘But… but… the next morning…. You said….’

‘Sshh,’ Suzy said. ‘It worked, didn’t it? I got to meet you. I got the job I was after. If I'd have come up to you at the post-gig party and asked to do a piece on the band - maybe a book, what would have happened?’

‘Well, if you were lucky you wouldn’t have landed in a pile of dog shit when Des the Road threw you out of the stage door.’

‘Exactly.’

‘So… the whole thing was a set-up?’

‘Yes… I just slept in that bed with you, nothing else.’ She looked up at him. ‘What, do you think I'd only slept with you just to get this job?’

‘But isn’t that what you are - more or less - admitting to now?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh….’

‘So… none of that… what you said the next morning… not recognising me and all that… none of it was true.’

‘No, not really. Of course not… except for the bit about us meeting and instantly fancying each other. That was true… well, sort of true.’

‘Oh.’

Suzy sat up. ‘Anyway, I’m twenty-three years old. You have been around, in my life, for almost as long as I can remember. How could I not recognise you?’

‘Well… put it like that of course,’ Pete smiled.

‘I’ve fancied you since I was a young girl… a teenager… thirteen or fourteen. I’ve always thought you were so sexy.’

‘What?’ Pete’s smile spread, despite himself. ‘I’ve never thought of myself like that. I never tried to be like that, never wanted to be sexy.’

‘I know… that’s just what makes you so sexy.’ Suzy snuggled down in his arms, laying her head on his chest. She smiled to herself.

‘But it all seems so calculated,’ Pete said. ‘Whatever happened to romance?’

‘Romance?’ Suzy laughed. ‘What has that got to do with it? This is about fucking, a shag…. Romance doesn’t have anything to do with it.’

‘Well… but….’ Pete shrugged.

‘Listen,’ Suzy said. ‘I got you, didn’t I?’

‘Yes, But….’

‘Well then. It was a bit of successful marketing.’

‘Marketing? Is that how you see it… us?’

Suzy sat up to look at him. She frowned. ‘Yes, of course. We both have something to give each other, something the other wants. So, let’s trade.’

She lay down again. ‘See, everything worked out fine. And now look where I am. I… am… in… bed… with… you…’ she began to creep slowly down his body again, his chest, his stomach, punctuating each word with a brief kiss. ‘And… I’m… giving… you… the… best… blow-job… of… your… entire… life….’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes… just… wait… a… moment.’

‘Oh? Oh… oh…. Ah… I… see now… yes… yes! Ah…. No, don’t… stop… please!’

She stopped.

Pete raised his head from the pillow.

Suzy was staring up at him, his erection in one hand and the tape recorder in the other. She smiled and pressed the record button with her thumb. ‘You and Spike had decided to try to form a band together…. Then what?’

‘Well…,’ Pete sighed. ‘On the Saturday, a few days after we’d decided to form a band, I went around to Spike’s place as usual. She met me at the door.’

*

‘I think I’ve found us a bass player,’ Spike said as she let Pete into the house. This surprised him. Since they had first discussed forming a band he hadn’t done anything about it at all, except daydream about it occasionally.

On their way to the kitchen, Spike carefully closed the half-open door of her room. Just over her shoulder, as she closed the door, Pete caught a glimpse of black hair; someone was sleeping in Spike’s bed. He tried to think of something to say.

‘The casting couch, huh?’

Spike looked up at him sharply, but relaxed when she saw he was smiling. ‘Yeah, why not? Business and pleasure… and all that.’

Pete sat down at the kitchen table. Unusually, they were alone in the kitchen. As Spike shared the house with about half a dozen other students there was usually one or two of them, or their friends, wandering about whenever Pete was there.

Spike handed him a mug of coffee. ‘Pete…?’

‘Yes.’

‘There’s something… I mean… about….’ Spike inclined her head towards her room.

‘It doesn’t matter… not to me, at all,’ Pete said. ‘What’s his name? Oh, and can he really play?’

Spike lit a cigarette, looking down at her coffee-cup. ‘Er… he’s not a he… as it were…. He…. She’s a she.’

Pete felt his jaw drop. ‘Oh… right,’ he said eventually. He lit one of Spike’s cigarettes to give himself time to think. He noticed his hand was shaking as he held the match to the cigarette. He blew the match out and put his hand flat on the table.

‘Sorry, have I shocked you?’ Spike looked across the table at him.

‘No, not shocked, no,’ Pete said. He realised he was telling the truth.

‘It sounds corny, but she just swept me off my feet. I mean - as far as I remember - I've never - y'know… fancied another girl, but she just came up to me and that was that. Next thing I knew we were back here kissing and… well, it was the best night of my life - ever!’

‘Great!’ Pete said with an enthusiasm he didn’t feel. ‘I think I’d guessed that you were… are… y’know.’

‘Really?’ It was Spike’s turn to sound surprised. ‘How… how long have you known?’

‘I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it. But, thinking about it now, I can remember that day when we met… in the pub… the way you ignored the men, but looked at the women in the same way I did.’

‘Oh….’ Spike was silent for a while, tracing the pattern of the wood-grain on the surface of the table. ‘Y’know, I’ve been wondering how to tell you… wondering if you already knew… wondering what I'd do if you… well, y’know….’

When she looked up at him again, Pete could see there were the beginnings of tears in her eyes. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘It’s… it’s just that we’ve been such good friends. I was scared that this would… I dunno… change things.’

‘No, of course not.’

Spike nodded and then smiled. ‘I… I was sort of half-thinking that you might be hanging around with me… y’know as if you thought… you and I would…. Y’know?’

‘No… well… maybe a little bit, in the beginning, but I think you made it as clear as you could that it wasn’t… er….’ Pete sat up straight, stubbing out his cigarette. ‘Anyway, we are friends, good friends and that is the way it stays. All right?’

‘All right.’

‘So… this… this….’

‘Jenny.’

‘Jenny…. Is she any good?’

‘Yes, she’s….’

‘At bass-playing, that is?’

‘Well… she’s keen… eager.’ Spike smiled. ‘And the same goes for her bass playing.’

‘Ah, I see.’

‘No… really.’ Spike looked down at the table.

Pete smiled, but did not reply.

Spike looked up at him. ‘Come on then.’

‘What?’

‘We’ll audition her, see what you think.’

‘Now?’

‘Yes, now. Just give me a couple of minutes to get her up and out of bed.’

‘A couple of minutes?’

‘Well….’ Spike laughed and dashed off to her room.

About half an hour, later Spike introduced Pete to a sleepy - but satisfied-looking – Jenny.

Jenny was sitting on Spike’s bed. She was dressed in a torn t-shirt and ripped jeans, her thin angular face almost hidden behind a curtain of long black hair. Pete noticed her toenails, painted bright blood-red. Spike sat down next to Jenny on the bed. Jenny’s left hand was resting on Spike's thigh.

‘Right,’ Pete said, feeling slightly ridiculous as he tried hard not to make it sound like a job interview. ‘Are you any good?’

Jenny and Spike turned to each other and grinned.

Jenny turned back to face Pete. ‘Not at the bass, no. Not yet anyway. Not as good as I want to be. At first, I borrowed one of my brother’s - he’s a very good bassist. I saw a few bands, well, one or two - punk bands, I suppose - with girl bass players… and… well… I thought I'd give it a go. I’ve always wanted to be in a band. I did a few guitar lessons at school and my brother showed me a few things. I suppose I could ask him for a few proper lessons, now that I’ve bought a bass of my own.’

‘I could teach you one or two things,’ Spike said, stroking Jenny’s thigh.

‘Let’s just stick to the bass playing,’ Pete said. ‘When can we get together and try it out?’

‘This afternoon? I can nip home and fetch my bass,’ Jenny said.

They all agreed to meet at Pete’s house later that afternoon. As it was a Saturday, Pete’s parents would be out. His mother would be going around the shops in town while his father was at the match.

*

That afternoon, after a slow and nervous start, it did go surprisingly well – much to Pete’s relief. After some experimentation, they found that it worked best with Pete playing rhythm guitar and Spike on keyboards.

‘What do you think? About Jenny?’ Spike said. They were in the kitchen together, making coffee.

For a moment, Pete listened to the dull throbbing sound of Jenny practicing scales up in his bedroom. ‘Well, as far as I’m concerned - she’s in.’

‘Great!’ Spike hugged him, kissing him on the cheek.

‘We are going to need another guitar player, someone to play lead, though, aren’t we?’ Pete stirred the coffee. ‘I’m just not good enough, and if I’m doing most of the singing too… well…?’

‘And a drummer, of course.’

‘Yes, and a drummer. There is something else as well,’ Pete said.

‘What’s that?’ Spike looked puzzled.

‘We’ll need a name for the band.’

Back up in his room they all sat on the bed, leaning back against the wall. Spike rolled a spliff and they passed it around.

‘I fancy something with Flowers in it,’ Spike said.

‘Flowers?’ Pete took the spliff from Spike.

‘Yes, but not… in a… a soppy way - sort of like Dead Flowers, or Barbed wire Flowers…. A contradiction, a reversal…. See what I mean?’

‘Yes,’ Jenny nodded slowly. She kissed Spike on the lips as she took the spliff from Spike’s hand. Spike began to stroke Jenny’s leg as they kissed again.

Pete slapped Spike’s thigh. ‘Hey, you two. Concentrate! This is important.’

‘Sorry,’ Spike said. She sat up straight with her hands together primly in her lap. ‘Right. Now I’m being serious.’

‘Thank you,’ Pete said. ‘I’m not so sure I want to be a Flower, anyway.’

‘Rockin’ Nigel and the Cost Accountants?’ Spike said.

‘The Armpits?’ Pete said.

‘Muff Divers?’ Jenny said.

‘Toad Diseases? Oh, I don’t know,’ Spike shrugged.

‘That is one thing though, that you… we… ought to keep in mind. The way the name can be used against yo… us,’ Jenny said.

‘How do you mean?’ Spike said.

‘Say if you were called something like Stinky Pig Puke,’ Jenny said. ‘It almost obliges the reviewer of your gig, album or whatever, to say that you live up to your name. Do you see?’

Spike nodded. She got up to roll another spliff. ‘It’s no good,’ she said. ‘I can’t think of anything now. Everything is beginning to sound silly.’

Jenny nodded slowly. ‘Yes, it’s like that… that thing… where you keep repeating a word. After a while… it just turns into sonnense…. Nonsense.’

‘I suppose the best thing to do then, is to try not to think about it. I bet that if we try not to think about it, over the next week or so, then we will come up with something. But, if either of you get any good ideas - write them down. No matter what you are doing….’

Jenny and Spike looked at each other and smiled.

‘Yes, even that,’ Pete laughed. ‘Just make sure you write it down. I know I’ve lost so many good ideas because I didn’t write them down, and I was so certain that I would remember them.’