Dance On Fire - Chapter 06

Pete lay on his back staring up at the ceiling of the hotel room. Suzy was asleep with her head on his chest, her tape recorder still clutched in her right hand as though, even in her sleep, she was afraid of losing it.

Pete thought back to those early days again. He had believed he’d forgotten so much, but Suzy’s insistent questioning had stirred up the memories like a stick stirring up the mud from the bottom of a pool. It had been a long time since he’d thought about Matt… and Jane too. He wondered what had happened to them. He smiled as he remembered the look on Matt’s face when he had first realised that Jenny and Spike were lovers.

*

After only a week or so of solid practice, the band was beginning to sound tight and together. After a rehearsal in Pete's bedroom, an excited Spike said it was almost magical, the way that they all blended so well. The others eagerly nodded their agreement.

After the girls had left, Matt and Pete began to pack away their stuff, still grinning at each other in recognition of how well they thought it had gone. ‘I… I don't know how to say this,’ Matt said, almost conspiratorially. ‘But I saw Spike and Jenny… well, kissing… earlier.’

Pete nodded. He didn't say anything, but his grip on the neck of his guitar tightened. He could feel the sharp pressure of the strings against his palm.

‘Well… I… just wondered if you knew, that's all,’ Matt said.

‘I knew. From when Spike first met Jenny, as it happens.’

‘Oh.’ Matt seemed taken aback. ‘It's not that they are… y'know… lesbians. That doesn't bother me at all. No, I just wondered if you'd thought about what would happen if… er… lovers tiffs, falling-out… that kind of thing?’

Pete put the guitar down and sat on the bed. ‘No, to be honest, that’s never really occurred to me.’

Matt sat down in the chair over the other side of the room. ‘I mean - well, I am the newcomer here, so I'm not sure of my place in this, yet. But, don't you think we ought to… I dunno… have a talk about it. I mean, I don't want to put all this time and effort into this band, if there is a chance it could be blown apart by something like those two falling-out.’

‘I can see what you mean,’ Pete said. ‘But I don't see it as being too different to anything else. Anything could happen to any one of us that could mean the end of the band, couldn't it?’

‘I suppose so,’ Matt said. He was silent for a moment. ‘Yes, you are right. Putting it into that context, I suppose, makes it no different from any other risk.’ He stood up. ‘You know, I do think we have something, something special, here. It just feels so… so right. Do you see what I mean?’

Pete nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, I do. I think that if we could only get a good drummer we would be ready to play live, and I think we have a chance of getting somewhere.’

‘Ah, a drummer,’ Matt said. ‘Are they an endangered species or something? Remember all the trouble The Clash had in finding one?’ He looked at his watch. ‘Shit! Come on, we are supposed to be meeting Linda and Jane at nine, and it is nearly ten-to!’

‘Shit! Yes.’ Pete grabbed his coat and they ran out to Matt's car.

*

‘Pete! Come and look at this.’

They were hanging around, just inside the entrance to The Pit. The girls had disappeared to the toilet together. Matt and Pete had orders to wait for them, rather than heading straight for the bar as usual.

Pete read the handwritten poster that Matt pointed out to him. The Pit was going to introduce a specific night for new bands, on Tuesday evenings.

‘This is our chance,’ Matt said.

‘But we haven't got a drummer.’

The girls eventually came back from the toilet. Matt showed them the poster too.

‘There's bound to be a waiting list,’ Matt said. ‘Nearly everybody I meet these days seems to be in a band. We are bound to have found one by the time our turn comes around.’

‘Well, I dunno….’

‘We think you should too, don't we Linda?’ Jane said. Linda nodded.

‘Right. I'm going to sign us up,’ Matt said.

‘But shouldn't we wait, check with Spike and Jenny?’ Pete said.

‘But if we wait, we'll probably never get a gig. Surely they must want to play live, otherwise why are they in the band?’ Matt seemed excited, eager.

‘All right then,’ Pete agreed.

Matt almost ran down to the desk, just inside the entrance. The music throbbing from inside the club was too loud for the other three to overhear, but Matt was deep in conversation with Big Stan - the man who ran the club. Matt was smiling and nodding enthusiastically, always wise things to do when dealing with Stan.

Matt got them a date on the fourth Tuesday, which meant they had about a month to find a drummer and get him - or her, as Jenny insisted could be a possibility - rehearsed. Pete worried that they would not have the time. Their songs were not that complicated, they didn't need an especially gifted drummer, just someone who could keep time. Pete even began musing about using Linda or Jane just for this first gig, if they could borrow a kit off someone.

A few days later, Pete met Johnny.

*

‘Pete, this is John. He is starting today,’ Bob, the foreman said. ‘Show him the ropes and all that.’

‘Okay, sure Bob,’ Pete said. He turned to John. Pete could see the dark edges of tattoos creeping out from under the sleeves of John's shirt. He was thin, wiry and short. He had the beginnings of a moustache and his hair cut severely short.

As Pete showed him around, they started to chat about this and that. Pete discovered that his first impression had been correct.

‘I just got out of the army,’ John said. ‘I had some good times, but three years was enough, especially with all this Irish business.’

Pete nodded, not knowing what to say. After an awkward minute or so, he asked Johnny what he had done in the army.

‘Don't laugh,’ he said. ‘I was a musician. A drummer.’

Pete almost choked on his tea, and the plastic cup crushed in his hand so he had to take a quick step backwards to avoid the splash of hot liquid as it hit the concrete floor.

‘What's the matter?’

Pete could see the veins pulsing in John's neck; his hands were curling into fists.

Pete managed to get his breath back. ‘No, it's nothing like that,’ he explained.

Johnny relaxed, slightly.

‘It is just that I'm in a band, y'know?’

John nodded warily.

‘We have spent absolutely ages looking for a drummer. And you just turning up this morning and saying you were a drummer… well, it took me by surprise, y'see?’

John was silent for a moment, still tense. Then he relaxed, smiled and then laughed. ‘Ah, right.’ He thought for a moment. ‘So, what kind of stuff do you play?’

‘I dunno whether it would be your thing,’ Pete said warily.

‘Why not?’ There was suspicion in John's voice.

‘I….’ Pete was silent again. ‘Maybe it would be easier for you to tell me the music you like… listen to.’

‘Almost anything, really.’ John shrugged. ‘I've just bought a brand-new kit too. It would be great to play in a band.’

‘I'll tell you what?’ Pete said. ‘I've got a tape of the band in my car. How about if we go out for a pint in the lunch break? On the way to the pub, I'll play the tape for you. If you like it, like what we do… well… we can take it from there.’

John stopped walking, there in the middle of the car park, and turned to look at Pete. Eventually, he smiled. ‘Okay,’ he said.

*

Matt's father had an old disused warehouse, due for demolition soon. After a bit of pleading by Matt, the band were allowed to use it for rehearsals. It took them almost an entire weekend to shift the broken, rusted machinery to get enough space to set up their gear.

Johnny always seemed to be at the centre of what needed doing, taking the heaviest, the dirtiest, most awkward jobs for himself, and always ready with a joke or encouraging comment for the others. It surprised Pete how well he got on with everyone.

Even, what had probably worried Pete the most, the sight of Jenny and Spike kissing, left Johnny unfazed. Pete was helping him shift a damp and rotten cardboard box at the time. Johnny looked up and saw Spike with her hand on Jenny's thigh as Jenny whispered something into Spike's ear; they laughed together then kissed.

‘Hey Pete,’ Johnny said, nodding towards the girls over the other side of the room. ‘Are they shagging, each other - that is?’

‘Er…. Yes.’ Pete steeled himself for a burst of working class-style moral indignation. The sort of thing he had heard too many times before.

‘Ah, well. I suppose it takes all sorts,’ Johnny said. He winked at Pete. ‘Although, I'll tell you, if they ever ask, I wouldn't mind giving them a helping hand - as it were.’

‘I don't think they will, though. They seem to be managing pretty well.’ Pete was still a little unsure of Johnny's reaction.

‘Nah,’ Johnny agreed. ‘I can't say I blame them though, Can you? I think if I was a girl or a woman, I'd be one too. I just can't see what women see in us blokes, can you?’

‘No.’ Pete smiled. ‘But I'm glad they do.’

‘Me too,’ Johnny agreed. ‘It looks like I'm going to have to get me a girl though. Everyone else in the band seems fixed up. I feel like the odd one out.’ He glanced up at Pete as he lit a cigarette. ‘Not that I'm in the band… yet.’

‘After all you've done today, and yesterday,’ Pete said. ‘I don't think we could refuse you.’

The wary look was back in Johnny's eyes again. ‘I wouldn't want that,’ he said emphatically. ‘If you don't think I'm good enough, tell me. I don't want to get the job out of charity… or whatever.’ He stared straight into Pete's eyes. ‘If I'm no good, or not what you want, or whatever - tell me, right?’

‘Yes, of course.’

Johnny stared at Pete for a moment longer, then nodded. He dropped his fag end on the stained concrete floor and ground it out with his foot. ‘Come on then, let's get this bit done.’

*

After a couple of hours of sweating, they had cleared enough space to get the gear set up and working. Matt spent a good ten minutes with Johnny, admiring and discussing Johnny's new drum kit. While they waited for them, Pete chatted with Jenny and Spike.

‘So, what do you think of him then?’ Pete inclined his head towards Johnny and Matt, who seemed to be talking about cymbals.

‘I like him,’ Jenny said. ‘He makes me laugh.’

‘Yes,’ Spike said. ‘I just hope he can play.’

‘I don't fancy telling him, if he can't though,’ Pete said.

‘Why not?’ Spike seemed genuinely puzzled.

‘He scares me.’

‘Really?’ Jenny laughed. ‘But he's only a tiny little thing.’

‘I dunno.’ Pete shrugged. ‘You just get this feeling with some blokes. I dunno… perhaps it is a male thing.’

Spike and Jenny nodded, almost in unison.

‘Besides that, he has been in the army. He probably knows loads of ways of killing with his bare hands and all that.’

‘But he wasn't in the bloody SAS or anything. He was only a musician, a drummer,’ Spike said.

‘Perhaps he knows of a hundred ways to kill someone with just a drumstick then,’ Pete said. ‘Anyway, he still scares me.’

‘But you work with him,’ Jenny said.

‘Only in the way a lion tamer works with lions,’ Pete replied.

Matt looked up and saw the three others watching them. ‘Are you lot ready yet?’ He said impatiently.

‘We are waiting for you two,’ Pete said.

‘What?’

‘You two have been over there, discussing cymbals, for about five minutes, at least,’ Spike said.

‘We ne….’

BA-BUM! BA-BUM! BA-BUM! Jenny's bass echoed around the room as though some large mechanical beast was stirring from a long sleep. She was playing the intro to Dead Town. She mouthed something about it being too loud. Pete motioned for her to continue and walked over to adjust her volume. Spike went over to Johnny and showed how she wanted him to play the cymbals behind Jenny's riff. Johnny picked it up straight away. Then he brought in the bass drum and then the snare.

It wasn't how Pete had imagined it when he had first written the words, but Spike's music did make it work. Pete looked over to where Spike was now standing behind her keyboards. She nodded and gave Johnny a thumbs-up signal.

The drums made all the difference, sharpening the songs up and adding another - deeper - dimension. Pete felt too stunned by the difference to say anything when they stopped for a break, but he couldn't stop smiling.

‘You are really bloody good,’ Matt said to Johnny. Johnny smiled and relaxed.

‘You are perfect,’ Spike said. Jenny nodded her agreement.

Everyone turned to look at Pete. He shrugged. ‘As far as I'm concerned, if you want the… er… job, Johnny, it is yours.’

He looked at Pete carefully, and then raised an eyebrow.

‘I think you are great, really good,’ Pete said.

‘When we have finished here, I think we ought to go and celebrate - at The Crown,’ Jenny said. There was a general chorus of agreement.

The rest of that afternoon, and the early evening were almost party-like. The whole band all felt they were at the birth, that they had created something very special. Pete didn't know if other people, people in other bands - bands that didn't make it - ever felt that feeling of rightness about what they were doing. He presumed they must do, because at those early stages belief is all you have.