Read Ride On Online

Authors: Stephen J. Martin

Tags: #Fiction, #Humorous, #Rock Musicians, #General

Ride On (21 page)

BOOK: Ride On
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The punters were right in their faces now, the first four or five rows consisting of some very excited girls. Jimmy closed his eyes. They hadn't done this one in ages and the last time they'd done it, it was with two very definite purposes in mind … called Aoife and Angela if his memory served him correctly. He heard Aesop get his fingering right on the guitar and barely opened one eye. Helen was right there, a huge, faintly curious, smile on her. Jimmy leaned in to him.

‘Can we get this over with before I bottle out?'

Aesop winked and started the intro. Almost immediately the hundred or so girls in the place started screaming, so much so that he had to go around twice before he could start singing. By then it didn't even matter. Two hundred breasts were suddenly pointing straight at him like he was the North Pole and they had magnetic nipples. The last time they'd heard this song they were teenagers in love, or just out of love, or wondering what it might be like to be in love.

It was ‘More Than Words', by Extreme … Aesop's magic song.

As Jimmy sang his first harmony line and the two hundred breasts swung around in unison to pick him out, he relaxed a bit. It sounded pretty cool. Cheesy as all fuck, but Aesop was getting away with it. Sometimes you got lucky with a crowd or a venue or a vibe, and it was working now. Jimmy put his right hand up to the side of his head so that he could close his ear and hear himself properly. Everything was grand. And then he saw Norman, right at the back of the crowd, towering over everyone and staring at Aesop like green fire was about to come out of his eyes and reduce the man to a charred cinder. Norman knew all about the magic song. He'd heard all the stories. He'd even been there for a few of them. Everything was grand … except that Aesop was a dead man for trying this on Helen.

Jimmy finished out the mini-gig with ‘Caillte'. That was a no brainer for the punters. It was the reason they'd all turned up. Normally someone would have sung it already by now in the Open Mike, but no one had had the balls to do it tonight. They lapped it up when Jimmy sang it. For an encore he decided to go out on a limb, just to see.

‘I wrote this next song a few weeks ago for a friend of mine. I haven't actually played it with just me and a guitar, so … eh … I'd appreciate it if you let me know what you think. Aesop?'

Aesop was playing the bass line on the other acoustic and started it up.

‘This is a new one called “More Than Me”. It's about … well, it's about knowing when you've got it good. Hope you like it …'

*

The punters mostly cleared out of the place by one in the morning. Everyone had work the next day. There were a few people still there and Packie didn't seem to be too bothered about shifting them. The lads were still on free booze and now that the gig was over they could relax and have a proper few pints in the lock-in. Jimmy was signing autographs at the bar and chatting to Helen and Jessie. Norman and Aesop were on their own at a table down the back of the pub.

‘You dirty shite, you made me a promise.'

‘I didn't touch her!'

‘Bollocks! I know what you were at with your fucking smoochy song.'

‘Jesus man, it's the only song I can sing properly on an acoustic. All the way through, y'know? To a crowd like this. It was either “More Than Words”, “He's Got the Whole World in His Hands”, or “Swallow Every Drop of My Love”. What was I meant to do?'

‘Why didn't you just let Jimmy sing?'

‘It was an Open Mike night!'

‘Not for the likes of you.'

‘Listen man, you need to chill your boots.'

‘What fucking boots? Didn't you destroy them earlier today on me.'

‘Look Norman, I know you think I'm a scumbag with women. I know you think I'm immature and that I don't respect women's feelings. I know you think all I'm after is a quick ride and that I'd no more make an effort to get to know a woman than I would eat me own toenails. And that to me, women are just … Jesus, Norman, stop me if you think I'm talking shite …'

‘I will. Go on.'

‘Look … Norman, I really, really like Helen. That's it. All I want is a chance. Jesus, it's not like she's throwing herself at me, is it? She might even give me the red card. But I can't even talk to her properly if you're giving me the hairy eyeball across the room every time. It's very fucking unnerving.'

‘Good.'

‘Man, she's nearly thirty. You can't stop her from seeing who she likes.'

‘I can stop you.'

‘But that's bollocks! And it's not fair. Norman, all the shit you've given me down the years about women. And now here I am, balls fit to fucking explode from not riding the whole of the last week, turning down a threesome with a couple of Swedish chicks, trying to watch me language, waving off a pub full of women tonight … and why? Because I keep asking meself what Helen would think. Does that not tell you something?'

‘Only that the country air is doing you some good and it's about time you started copping yourself on. Congratulations on not being fifteen any more.'

‘So?'

‘So what?'

‘If I'm not fifteen any more, will you ever fuck off and let me at least talk to Helen alone without breathing down me neck like a fucking mountain gorilla whose banana I'm after robbing. You're fucking up my chances of getting to know …'

‘You don't have a chance, Aesop. Helen is my cousin and I'm not leaving you alone with her for five minutes. This pub was full of girls that would be more than happy to attend to your exploding balls for you tonight, but she's not one of them.'

‘Helen and my balls are not the issue here, Norman, you're the …'

‘Hi guys.'

They both looked up.

‘What are you talking about? Sounds serious.'

‘Hiya Helen,' said Aesop. ‘I was just explaining to Norman that I like … it down here in the country.'

‘Great. You should come down more often.'

‘Yeah. I think I'd like that.'

‘Do you want to come outside for a minute with me? We've never really had a proper chance to chat and it's a bit stuffy in here. The stars are out and everything.'

‘Well …'

‘It's cold out there,' said Norman. ‘You should stay in in the warm.'

‘Come on, Aesop. Unless you're in the middle of something? Robert? Do you mind?'

‘Eh … I'm not sure. I'm meant to be keeping an eye on him and …'

‘Oh, I'll keep an eye on him for you.'

‘Yeah, but …'

‘Come on Aesop.'

Aesop started to slowly slide out from behind the table, grabbing his coat and smokes and looking sideways at Norman. Norman put his hand on Aesop's arm.

‘Helen, I think you should just stay in here and …'

‘We'll be fine.'

‘But Helen …'

‘Robert!'

Norman and Aesop both stopped dead and looked at her. Then she smiled.

‘Come on Aesop.'

They both walked out together into the car park.

‘How the fuck did you do that?' said Aesop.

‘What?'

‘That voice you did … Jesus, I felt about six years old!'

‘I'm a schoolteacher, remember?'

‘Christ, I'd say you don't have many problems in the classroom, do you?'

She laughed.

‘Not too many.'

‘I think Norman's still probably stuck to his seat in there. I've never seen real fear in that man's eyes in twenty-five years until just now.'

‘Ah, Robert's a dote. Gentle as a lamb.'

‘A lamb. Right. You've obviously never seen him eat a lamb, then, have you?'

She laughed again, leading the two of them past the tarmac car park and into a field. There were picnic tables and benches set up, and a small playground for kids. Further along there was a gate into another field. This one was a rose garden, but the bushes were bare now except for the coats of frost that each one wore, glistening under the moonlight. As she closed the gate behind them, she put her hand in his. It felt warm. They went on along the path between the rows of shrubbery and eventually came to another bench. She tucked her long coat under her legs behind her and sat down. His coat only came to his waist but he sat down next to her anyway, immediately feeling a slight dampness and a rush of freezing cold seep into his jeans. He didn't give a fuck. He was too busy being mesmerised by the way her eyes seemed to give out a light of their own.

And anyway, it actually felt kind of nice on his curry-damaged arsehole.

Chapter Nineteen

‘How pissed off was he on the phone?' said Aesop, when they were settled into their seats.

‘Well, I've heard him worse …'

‘Right.'

‘But not by much. Did you ride her?'

‘A gentleman doesn't say.'

‘Right. So, did you ride her?'

‘I'm not messing Jimmy, what happened is between me and Helen.'

‘So you're not going to fill me in on all the details?'

‘I'm saying nothing about it.'

‘Give us a look at your passport for a minute.'

‘For what?'

‘I want to make sure it's you.'

‘Listen Jimmy, forget about it. If it'll shut you up, let's just say my feelings haven't changed, okay? Are you eating them nuts?'

‘Here.'

‘So who's going to be looking after me in London if Norman's in Dublin having a sulk?'

‘Dónal and Norman reckon you'll be grand. Your stalker doesn't know where you'll be. Anyway, it'll give Norman a chance to cool down. And he misses his bird he says.'

‘Yeah … his bird …'

‘What?'

‘Hmm?'

‘Every time anyone mentions Trish, you get all quiet. Is it the shame of it?'

‘No. It's just … listen Jimmy, if I say something, will you do your best to listen to it without calling me a fuckin' eejit?'

‘Can I just think it?'

‘Yeah … I s'pose so.'

‘Go on so.'

‘When I was talking to Trish that time … y'know, with the badger and all … she wasn't fuckin' normal?'

‘What do you mean normal?'

‘She said she wanted to talk to me. She needed to show me something. Not the picture, something else. And she said not to tell Norman about it. She wanted to meet me for dinner. Just the two of us, like.'

‘What? That's a bit fucked.'

‘I know. I don't know what she's after, but I'm not into doing all this behind-the-scenes shite. Norman is my mate and if she wants me to shag her or something, then I don't know what to do.'

‘You mean about shagging her? Because …'

‘No, you fuckin' dipstick. I'm not shagging her either way. But what do I do about the psycho fuckin' vibes I'm getting?'

‘Did you tell Norman what she said?'

‘Jesus, no. I already broke his door, wrecked his shoes, scared the bejaysis out of his girlfriend twice, served him up salad cream sandwiches for his dinner, smashed his phone, and then I disappear into the night with his cousin. If he's anywhere near breaking point, do you think I want to tell him his bird is looking for me to throw a length into her on top of everything else?'

‘Fair point. So what are you going to do?'

‘I don't know. Maybe I can get her on her own for two minutes and tell her to fuck off and leave me alone.'

‘Maybe the curious incident of the badger in the night did the trick?'

‘Maybe it did. But I don't know man. She's a bit mental, that one.'

‘Are you sure she said all that stuff about meeting her privately? You know the way you're an awful dopey cunt sometimes …'

‘I'm telling you man it wasn't right, the stuff she was coming out with. The girl was saying all this shit to me, and Norman's in the next room. That's why I was in the bedroom at all that night. I didn't want him hearing what was going on.'

‘Look, just give her a call. See what she wants, okay? If she wants you instead of Norman, you're going to have to say something. Unless she just accepts that it's not going to happen and never mentions it again to either of you. Then it can just be a little secret between the two of you. Or, well, the three of us.'

‘Ah … fuck this shit anyway. Who needs all this crap when I'm already after telling Helen that … eh …'

‘Yeah? What did you tell Helen, Aesop?'

‘Nothing.'

An airhostess came by with champagne for them.

‘Thanks very much,' said Jimmy, taking one for each of them.

‘How long is this flight?' said Aesop.

‘It's just over an hour, Mr Murray.'

‘Oh right. Thanks.'

The girl moved on to the next row.

‘She recognised us,' said Aesop.

‘Yeah. Well, she has a list of all her passengers too. So maybe …'

‘Nah. Did you see that look?'

‘She wanted to ride you as well I s'pose, is it?'

‘It's a cross I have to bear Jimmy. I'm mad for gee and women can sense it.'

‘Oh, okay.'

‘It's the way God made me.'

‘God made you mad for gee?'

Aesop nodded.

‘Right,' said Jimmy. ‘I didn't know that was his department.'

‘Yeah, well it doesn't matter. I'm retired now anyway.'

Jimmy looked at him.

‘Over Helen?'

Aesop said nothing.

‘Aesop, are you and Helen a full-time thing now or what's the fuckin' story?'

‘You wouldn't understand.'

‘You're not answering me, Aesop.'

‘Well stop asking then, Jimmy.'

‘Fuck sake.'

*

‘Dónal!'

‘Great to see you lads. Jaysis, Aesop, I think you're after putting on a bit of weight, are you?'

‘You should see the size of the dinners Norman was making, Dónal. The things that man can do with a spud.'

‘Well it suits you anyway. A bit of colour in the cheeks and everything.'

‘Yeah, well I've been taking these morning walks and all y'know? A few miles across the bogs, just to get the heart going.'

‘Jesus, don't mind him,' said Jimmy. ‘You have to empty him out of the bed.'

‘Lads, we'll go and grab a bite for lunch, right? We're meeting with Senturian at two.'

‘Grand,' said Jimmy. ‘Do you already know what the story is with them?'

‘Only that they want to talk about the next album. And they've got something on the cards for America. They were talking about a support slot for you.'

‘Cool. With who?'

‘Don't know yet. C'mon.'

The bellhop signalled a taxi just outside the main door and they got in. Dónal told the guy where they wanted to go and then they all sat back and gazed at the sights going past.

‘Do you know what I love about English women?' said Aesop, when they stopped at a traffic light and a pile of pedestrians started walking in front of the car.

‘What?' said Dónal.

Jimmy had more sense.

‘I love the way they're posh and dirty at the same time,' said Aesop.

‘I'm not with you.'

‘English women can do posh and make it sound dirty. Liz Hurley, now. I could see her spanking the arse off you.'

‘Off me?'

‘Off anyone.'

‘And that'd be brilliant, would it?'

‘Oh Jaysis yeah. Smacking you on the arse and telling you you're very bold. I'd say she'd be deadly at that.'

‘Based on what?'

‘Are you not listening to me? Her accent.'

‘So you've decided that Liz Hurley, a woman you've never met, is into smacking people on the arse. And you're basing this revelation on her accent.'

‘I know women, Dónal.'

‘Jimmy, what's he on about?'

‘Ah, don't listen to him, Dónal. It's not worth it.'

‘Do you know what else I love about English women?' said Aesop.

Silence.

‘Lads?'

Nothing.

‘Lads? Do you know what else I love about English women?'

‘Christ. What do you love, Aesop?'

‘Knickers. Well, underwear in general. Do you ever notice that English birds have the coolest jocks?'

‘I've been married for fourteen years, Aesop,' said Dónal.

‘Yeah, but you can still look, can't you?'

‘At their jocks? How, for fuck sake?'

‘Magazines or on the telly or whatever. They have some good gear over here, I'm telling you. I don't know where they get it. Do you?'

‘Do I know where English women get their underwear?'

‘Yeah.'

‘No I don't.'

‘That'd be a good business to be in. Bringing English girls' scanties over to Ireland and selling it.'

‘I'm sure it's the same stuff at home as here.'

‘Well maybe they just don't buy it as much. It's all about marketing, y'know?'

‘Is it? Okay, right. That's enough, Aesop, please.'

‘Oh, by the way, that reminds me … I'm after having a brilliant idea.'

Dónal was rooting in his briefcase now. Jimmy was still looking out the window.

‘Lads? Lads, me brilliant idea … do you want to hear it? Lads?'

Jimmy looked around.

‘Aesop, if we listen to your idea, will you shut fuckin' up until we get out of the car?'

‘Yeah.'

‘Okay. What's your idea?'

‘It's a band. A trad band, right? But it's an all-girl band. A female trad supergroup. I betcha a few of them Riverdance babes play instruments and …'

Dónal looked up.

‘An all-girl trad band?'

‘Yeah. I was watching Helen singing the other night, right? And this other young one, Cathleen, was on the whistle and another one was on the guitar, y'see? Dónal … Dónal, do you see?'

‘Yes, Aesop. I don't know the girls, but what about them?'

‘They were all gorgeous!'

‘Good. Great. And so you rode them all and everyone lived happily ever after …'

‘No, no. I'm just saying, there were these three top birds and they were all playing trad music. No hairy jumpers on them, no moustaches, no beer bellies. We're talking top-shelf gee, right? You don't normally get that in trad. So my idea was, right, you get four or five birds that look like the Corrs. Sexy Irish country accents, good singers, good musicians, the whole nine yards, right? But proper trad. Dress them up properly in lovely black dresses, proper make-up, English jocks … and all of a sudden you've got a new type of girl band. Like a normal girl band, except trad. Trad needs more sexy birds, lads. The Yanks would lap it up. I'm telling you, it'd be a goldmine.'

Jimmy and Dónal were just looking at each other.

‘Wouldn't it be deadly?' said Aesop.

Dónal sighed.

‘I s'pose it might have a market.'

‘Might?! They'd be gagging for it! Can I do it?'

‘What?' said Dónal.

‘Can I do it? For Sin Bin, like. Can I start auditioning young ones for it? We could have different troupes, y'know? Touring and all, like Riverdance.'

‘I'm not having you use Sin Bin so you can collect yourself stables of pretty young trad musicians to scandalise.'

‘It'd be a good name for the band, though,' said Jimmy, looking around. Aesop's Stables.'

Dónal laughed.

‘Yeah. True.'

‘I'm serious lads. Youse are always talking about other bands and all. I'd like to give it a go. Be a manager and all, y'know? And anyway, I'm not scandalising anyone at the moment. Amn't I not Jimmy?'

‘So you say.'

‘So anyway, Dónal. What do you think?'

‘Aesop, if you're serious about managing a band, we'll talk about it again. There's a lot to learn, y'know?'

‘I can learn stuff.'

‘Well, there's a lot to know before you can go hand-picking a group of musicians anyway.'

‘But this band will be sexy. That's their thing.'

‘That's not enough, Aesop.'

‘Ah cop on, Dónal. Do you think The Corrs would be The Corrs if they all looked like the brother?'

‘Look, the restaurant is just there. We'll talk about it again. There's a lot of thought needs to go into something like this.'

‘I've already given it a lot of thought.'

‘Have you?'

‘Yeah. I've already got a name for the band and everything. It's sexy girl band, but it's trad sexy girl band. Irish, sexy, trad, girls …'

‘Okay okay, Aesop. So what are you going to call them, then?'

‘B*Jaysis.'

Jimmy started laughing out the window.

‘Fuck sake …' said Dónal, shaking his head. He got back to the contents of his briefcase.

‘Wotcha think? Lads? B*Jaysis. Lads, what do you think of that? Lads?'

*

The Senturion offices were very sexy.

‘So you like your hotel?' said Alison, leaning back in a huge leather armchair.

She was the boss. A tall beautiful black woman with some kind of Caribbean accent. They'd met her before in Dublin, but Jimmy and Aesop had both forgotten just how stunning she was.

‘It's brilliant, thanks,' said Jimmy.

‘You have us spoilt, Alison,' said Aesop. ‘You could play Twister on the bed, sure.'

She laughed.

‘Really? You'll have to make some friends then, Aesop, while you're here.'

Jimmy immediately gave him a boot under the table. He knew Aesop well enough to know that he was about to say something dirty to her and Dónal had warned them about ten times that she went spare when blokes thought they had a chance at getting the cacks off her.

She went on for another fifteen minutes or so, telling them they were brilliant and how happy everyone was. The singles, the tour, the album … everything was going great. There was even some interest in the US in the whole thing. She was pretty sure that a tour over there would be on the cards as soon as they were done in Europe. Jimmy and Aesop were beaming. A US tour. That would be the absolute mutt's nuts. Then Alison leaned in again to the table and put on a pair of glasses.

‘I guess we should talk a little business now?' she said.

‘Why don't we start on the album contract?' said Dónal.

‘Sure,' said Alison. She looked at the guy next to her and he pulled some pages out of a folder. She passed them out. ‘What we have here is a four-album contract to replace the single-album one we're working to at the moment. As you'll see, we've got some very exciting ideas about where all this will go.'

BOOK: Ride On
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