The Bare Necessities (Non-Profane Edition) (25 page)

“I won't,” Jack
said calmly and ran his hands through his fair hair. “Really I
won't. And I know you don't like it, but I take after my Aunty more
than you. Harriet's the businesswoman. Give her the family firm,
and she'll be the son you never had.”

There was silence
as Paul simmered and shook. “I will not have a son of mine doing
such ridiculous things over the country. Being naked in public,
it's a disgrace.”

“Yeah, you've said
that, but when are you going to let me live my life and not
yours?”

There was a few
moment's silence that was only punctuated as Jack's phone rang. He
answered it when he saw Claire's name flash on his phone's display.
He glared at his father, as his friend and him had a few seconds
worth of conversation, that was just long enough for Claire to
explain about her mother's predicament.

“Teri lost her job
because you blame Claire?” Jack thundered and Paul gulped. “Did you
sack her because of me?”

“Yes,” he
admitted. “But it's for your own good, Jack.”

“And did you stop
her from getting re-employed?”

“Ahh well,” Paul
prevaricated.

“Did you?” Jack
shouted and clenched his fists. “Yes or no?”

“I am your father
and you will …” Paul started, but Jack grabbed his father by his
collar and threw him against the wallpapered wall with a thud.

“Did you?”

“I only did what
was best,” Paul told him. “And …”

“Bollocks!” Jack
shouted. “You think that denying my friend's family a livelihood is
for the best? That's evil.”

“When you stopped
doing the silly thing with the band she can have her job back, and
that's it.”

Jack gave a few
deep breaths and shook his head. “I can't believe you would do
that. Do you really hate me that much?”

“It's for your own
good,” he was told again. “And if you stay here, then it stops.
There will be no more of this madness.”

“What?”

“If you want to
stay here, then the band ends tonight. And you do not see them
again.”

“So I have to move
out if I don't want to break up the band?” Jack asked aggressively
with a sneer, and Paul nodded.

“Then move in with
me,” Lucinda suggested from the end of the room.

“Pardon?” Jack
asked, swivelling his body to see her.

“Move in with me. I have a big house as well. My ex
was a hedge fund manager and let's just say, he lost the house in
the divorce. I don't mind you staying in the band. In fact, I quite
like it.”

Paul glared at his
little sister who smiled sweetly at him. “This doesn't concern
you.”

“Oh but it does,”
Lucinda responded. “I told you that if you kept tormenting my
nephew I would take action. So I think I should be arranging to
come into the factory where you can introduce me as
co-manager.”

“Now, come on, we
had a deal.”

“You're right,”
Lucinda told him. “We did. Leave Jack alone and I would leave the
factory alone. But instead you broke it so I can break my end of
the bargain.” She smiled sweetly. “Simples!”

“You can't do
this,” he told her. “All the times I have been there for you.”

Lucinda stopped
one of her removal people and pointed at Jack. “I might have
another bedroom and a recording studio to go as well.” She smiled
and turned to her brother. “I know. And I am grateful. But now I am
being there for Jack. One day when you see sense, you will be
grateful I stopped you from managing to destroy your relationship
with your son.” Paul snorted.

“He needs his
parents to show what a mistake he's making.”

Lucinda shook his
head. “He's eighteen. He can make his own decisions. “And on the
subject of mistakes, I think I will be going to go through the
factory accounts to see if there is any deadwood we can cut. Just
to make sure, you are not making any mistakes. Unless you see
reason.”

Paul threw his
glass of whisky against the skirting-board at the end of the hall.
“Bloody do what you want,” he shouted as the glass shattered.
“Jack, just do what you want,” he yelled and looked at Lucinda.
“But you better go nowhere near that place,” he warned his
sister.

“I'll think about
it,” she replied, and watched as he stormed into his office and
slammed the door. She looked at the teenage man. “Do you want to
stay here or do you want to move in with me?”

Jack stared at the
broken whisky tumbler for a few seconds. “I better not stay here,”
he muttered and sighed. “Do you mind?”

“'Course not!”
Lucinda cried. “Let's get packing!”

* *
* * *

“And with me in
the studio is Jack Rees-Montague, founder and keyboard player with
Bare Necessities …” There was equal amounts of cheering and booing
as the camera panned around the small television studio and caught
sight of Jack. “Peter Moran, radio host and journalist, and Sue
Garratt, founder member of the activist group, Christian Outrage.”
Jack smiled, and the host continued. “Jack, your act is just a
marketing gimmick isn't it?” There was a large amount of clapping
from the audience and Jack tried to smile at the antagonistic
host.

“Absolutely not,”
he said firmly. “The thing that most people fail to understand is
that both Claire and Paige are naturists. They like to be naked, at
home, on holiday and when they are enjoying themselves. We recorded
the music naked and Paige can't sing anywhere near as well unless
she is free and unrestrained. It's not a marketing thing at all and
…”

“Well that's not
true. Those first videos on the Internet were shot so that your
nudity was clear.”

“Actually, Peter,”
Jack said as he turned to face him. “We did not put those videos
online and we did not authorise them.” Peter snorted in disbelief
and Jack shook his head. “I think your years in the tabloid press
have served to make you cynical,” he said, trying to provoke the
former editor. “I know some people don't like us, I know some
people think we are wrong, but I can honestly say that the power I
get from being naked, the freedom and the rush is incredible. And I
really like it. We have a fan base, but that transcends all ages,
races and religions.”

“I am telling you
now that you just decided to be naturist just to sell records. It's
the way the music industry is going and people are sick and tired
of marketing always being about sex. We live in an oversexualised
culture, and people are fed up with it.”

“I agree,” the
elderly leader of Christian Outrage told the partisan crowd, who
cheered her every word. “I have families coming to me saying that
they can't allow their children to use the computer in case they
stumble across the filth peddled by him over there.” She jabbed her
finger towards Jack.

Jack was stunned.
“Well, I … er … sort of agree about the culture. We do live an
oversexualised society, but we are not guilty of anything. There is
no sex with us, it's not about sex. I have slept in the same tent
as two naked, exceedingly attractive young ladies for most of the
last month, and all I have got is a peck on the cheek. It's not
about lust or eroticness, or anything like that. It's about
personal freedom and choice. And what you have just done is to
assume that because we are naked then sex must be involved, and
it's not true.” There was a muted round of applause from the
audience and Jack turned to Sue Garratt. “And if your congregation
are concerned about the Internet then there is far worse material
on the 'net than what has been uploaded of us.”

The opening
exchanges set the tone for the full ninety minutes as the two other
guests ganged up to condemn Jack and his friends. Jack was resolute
and answered questions from the audience and the objections from
the two complainants confidently before being asked if they were
continuing.

“Of course,” he
replied with a smirk.

“Even after the
entire audience has booed you?” Sue asked him tersely.

“The entire
audience didn't,” Jack responded. “A few did. But we knew we might
polarise opinion, and we have done. But a large number of people
like us. We sell out our gigs and get lots of hits of the 'net. And
a lot of people tell us that we are right. There is bigotry in the
Police, in the media and in certain groups that oppose us, and they
like to criticise us by reading things into our motives that aren’t
there. What we are doing, is nothing to be ashamed of.”

Sue crossed her
arms. “It's against the Lord's teachings.”

“That's as may
be,” Jack said with a grin. “But you have shared a platform with
someone who blackmailed a child and taunted an anorexic. As Paige
highlighted, in her own way, on his show. Is that not against the
Lord's teachings too?”

“I do not condone
Peter's behaviour, but he apologised for his conduct. Will you
apologise and repent for your immoral actions?”

“But it’s not
immoral. And we want to do it, and there is nothing anyone can do
to stop us.”

“We'll see about
that!”

* *
* * *

Paige picked up
her bag and held out her hands towards her worried sister. “What's
wrong now?”

“Can't find my
make-up,” Hazel moaned.

“Well come on, we
haven't got much time. Jack'll be waiting for us.” Hazel swept the
contents of the living room table onto the floor and then ran past
Paige to go to their shared bedroom.

The overweight
figure of Jeremy appeared in the room and rubbed his face,
flinching as he did. Paige's eyes narrowed as she focused on the
bruised and cut face of her fourteen year-old brother. “What's
wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” he
spat. “Just …”

“What walked into
a door?” Paige asked. “'Cause if you did, that door can fight.”

“OK, I got
involved in a fight,” Jeremy snapped and slammed his bedroom
door.

“Got it!” Hazel
told her, and then had to search for her phone. Paige asked her
sister about Jeremy, but Jack was waiting for them in a red
minibus.

“Where's the
car?”

Jack grinned.
“It's Lucinda. Well I'm living with her now. When she got divorced,
she got the house and he got the central London flat. Dad and I had
a row, so I am living with her, and she bought me the van. Wants to
get it sprayed with our logo next week.”

“But we don't have
a logo,” Paige replied with a confused look on her face, as she
climbed into the front of the vehicle.

“Yeah. We need one
apparently. Lucinda thinks that we will have groupies and T-shirts
and everything. I think she thinks we are global superstars.” Hazel
squeezed in next to her sister and Jack started the vehicle. He
drove slowly to Claire's house as he was not used to manoeuvring
something so large through the streets of busy south London.

Claire squealed
with excitement when she saw it. “Have you sold your car?” She
asked as she climbed in behind Jack. “This is so cool.”

“No, I've still
got the BMW,” Jack giggled, and took a moment to explain about
Lucinda, and then drove to the agreed location just outside London
in a large field of maize.

Sweet Love was a
song that Jack wrote; a fast, powerful rock song with plenty of
guitar riffs and a high energy vocal track. It was one of Paige's
favourite songs from the album and had been one of the more
downloaded tracks from the Internet.

“I got this as a
massive favour,” Andre told them. “The farmer has allowed us to
film in his field as long as we pay for any damage.” He eyes
narrowed, and he coughed. “He went to school with my Dad. He's my
godfather. And … errr … well he wants an autograph for his
kids.”

“Kids?” Paige
asked.

“Well … they are
only a bit younger than me.” Paige sighed; they were probably going
to be older than her and not “kids” but “adults.” They waited for
the film crew to arrive, and Andre sat with Claire explaining the
concept that had been sold to them; Claire and her friends had
already agreed to the storyboard, but Andre discussed it as they
waited.

Hazel talked to
Paige and Jack, and when Barry and his team arrived, Hazel listened
intently. It was exciting, and Paige tried to get her involved, but
her sister declined; public exhibitionism was too far for her and
she promised to help Andre as a “gopher” instead.

The video
consisted of Paige, Jack and Claire diving naked into the maize and
then appearing, so one or more of them was at the camera at any
point. Paige sang along to the music, that played as a reference
guide, but she knew that they were not recording sound.

The “story” of the
video consisted of Paige trying to get to Jack, and at the end had
to almost rugby tackle him into the crop.

She giggled as she
tackled him the first time before teasing. “Just like sharing a
sleeping bag.” Hazel hovered around the filming, performing errands
and talking to Andre, before the four of them left as evening
approached.

Their videos were
cheaply made, but they already had a fan base, and most of the
music video channels wouldn't show nudity until after the
watershed, so it made little sense in spending a lot of time or
money on them. “And anyway,” Andre told Hazel when she asked. “OK
Go was the most watched music video in 2006 and they made that on a
hundred bucks.”

“Who's OK Go?”
Hazel asked.

“Philistine,” the
agent moaned. “Ask your sister. She'll know.”

“Bloody don't,”
Paige replied with a smile and reached for Jack's smartphone. “Need
to borrow this.”

“And you said you
knew about music,” Andre teased with a smirk.

* *
* * *

“You made an
effort,” the almost naked Paige cried as Jack led her into the
dining room of his aunt's house. “A real effort.”

“Yes,” Jack
replied, blushing. “But Aunt Lucinda is out for the evening.
Something about a wine tasting evening followed by a whisky tasting
evening …”