This Could Be Rock 'N' Roll (17 page)

“Think about it, Jake. We are trying to cut you a fair deal here. We have a hunch that you’ll be a big star in a couple of years, and you have certainly paid your dues,” (subtle dig), “but you don’t count any chickens in this business. Still, if all goes well, you’ll be the star of the stable.”

Jade and I discuss the deal all the way home. For the £25,000 I won’t necessarily have to give up the day job. For the £50,000, I probably will, but £50,000 ain’t bad. The only problem is that it won’t last. Two to three years, the first album will be the best because it is all the stuff I have worked up over the last fifteen years, and they get that for £25,000. The net profit thing is weasel words. They can decide what profit they make. It depends what expenses they load in. Big stars only go for a percentage of the gross. What the hell. It is probably my best shot. Jade thinks so too.

“So I sign our lives away, do I?”

“Something like that.”

So I meet up with Jason and Jeff and sign the contract. It might even be an historic moment.

*  *  *

Harry calls. “Hi, Jake. I think we need to meet.”

“We do?”

“Yeah. There is something you need to know. I’m not looking forward to it but it has to be done.”

“What’s up, Harry? Have you turned contract killer?”

A short chuckle. “Nothing like that, Jake - or perhaps it is.”

“What is it, Harry?”

“I’ll tell you when I see you.”

“Come round to the flat.”

“No, it would be better in a public place.” Blimey. “So let’s make it a pub, shall we?”

The pub we agree on is the Wheatsheaf in Kirkella. I haven’t been there for a long time but Harry judges it to be sufficiently neutral territory. What the fuck is going on?

Harry is definitely nervous. He is even shaking.

“So what is it, Harry? What has Cathy done now? Have you made her pregnant or something? Have you murdered Trevor?”

“Who’s Trevor?”

“You don’t know either?”

“No, I have never heard of Trevor.”

“Well, I’ll find out tomorrow. He is bringing the kids round.”

“She works fast, that girl.”

“So what’s on your mind?”

“Jake, you are not going to like this.”

“Try me.”

“You never did like me much, did you?”

“I liked what you did for Cathy. You really calmed her down.”

“But you didn’t really like me, though, did you?”

“I didn’t really have an opinion to be honest.” OK, that wasn’t being remotely honest.

“It’s about Jade.”

“What about Jade?”

“Her baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Her baby may not be yours.”

“What?”

“The baby may not be yours, Jake.”

“So whose else would it be?”

He doesn’t answer that.

“So whose else would it be?”

“Take a guess, Jake, seeing that I have asked to see you.”

“Yours? But Jade can’t stand you. She couldn’t even stay in the same room as you.”

“There was a reason for that.”

“Yeah, because she couldn’t stand you.”

“No, Jake, because she couldn’t bear to be with both of us in the same room at the same time. The pressure was too much for her.”

“You mean that she has been shagging you all the time we have been together?”

“Not all the time, Jake. Only since we met.” He grins coyly. “You must think I am stalking you or something.”

No, Harry, I’m punching you right in your fat gob. Wallop!

*  *  *

When I get back to Victoria Ave, Jade is barricaded in.

“Jade, let me in.”

“No way, Jake. Not after what you did to Harry.”

“He deserved it.”

“You probably think that about me too.”

“No, Jade. I don’t hit women - only creepy, self-righteous pricks.”

“I’m not taking the chance until my brothers turn up. They’ll be here around five. We can talk then.”

“Don’t worry, Jade. I have nothing further to talk about.”

“Jake …..”

“That’s how it is, Jade. Bye. Enjoy your life.”

I am absolutely seething by the time I reach the office. Maureen takes one look at me and doesn’t want to give me the news. “Roger wants to see you, Jake.” At that moment, Roger spots me. “Jake, my office, please.”

At the very least it is a drubbing down. I can tell from his voice.

“Jake, what did I tell you about allowing your private life to effect your work?”

“It hasn’t.”

“Of course it has. You have just missed another viewing.”

“What viewing?”

“Mrs. Carstairs in Hessle.”

“That’s for tomorrow.”

“No, it was for today, Jake. She was not pleased.”

I check my phone. “Yeah, I’ve got it down for eleven o’clock on Friday.”

“Friday is today, Jake.” Shit, so it is. “You don’t even seem to know what day of the week it is anymore, and you have just come back from a week’s holiday.”

“Sorry, Roger. My bad.”

“No, Jake. Your mistake. This isn’t Los Angeles here, you know. You may be headed there but the rest of us are definitely not.”

“I’ll give her a call and apologise.”

“No, we have already been through all that, Jake. I don’t believe that Mrs. Carstairs particularly wants to talk to you. So, Jake, you have an official warning. One more mistake like that and you are out I’m afraid.”

I look at him and he turns red, great fat slob. Red and flashing. I may even have blacked out for a second or two there. “It’s all right, Roger. I’m leaving anyway. I’ve had enough of working for tossers like you.”

“As you wish, Jake. You can leave now if you wish. It is Friday, after all.”

That jolts me but then I think “Yeah, that’s cool. Let’s do it now,” then I say it.

Roger stands up. “We’ll get the documentation sorted out and you can come in and sign it, or we can send it to your place.”

“What place?”

“Wherever you like, Jake. I’m sorry, Jake, you seem to be having a lot of problems at the moment. Believe it or not, I really admire you and I even like your music. It is just that you are not an estate agent.”

“Not any more.”

“No, Jake, you never were even if you did manage to sell a few houses.”

*  *  *

Now where?

I leave the office feeling a bit groggy, followed by Maureen’s anxious glance. I’d better go and find Stoker and see if I can borrow his couch again. I’m becoming a bit of a lost cause - he may not dare take me in again. He might get stuck with me for life.

I turn the corner and walk straight into myself - a very large poster shouting “Jake Pembleton”.

“Oh God,” I think, “I am on the wanted list for felling Harry,” but those sorts of posters are not usually in colour, nor do they have me holding a guitar and looking artistic. “Jake’s new album ‘(Just like) El Cid’s Bloomers’ is here! Check out the superstar from Hull.”

‘El Cid’s Bloomers’? What the fuck is that? They never consulted me on that name.

The mobile goes. They forgot to take it off me at work. “Hi, Jake. Jeff here. Have you seen?”

“Yeah, I have just walked into myself.”

“Good, innit?”

“It certainly got my attention.”

“Do you like the title?”

“Not particularly. Where did that come from?”

“It’s all about the crisis of masculinity, Jake. You see, El Cid was this crusader ….”

“….yeah, I know who El Cid was ….”

“But there is no more room for El Cid’s in this world - not around here, anyway. Too macho. So El Cid has been emasculated. He’s having to wear his wife’s bloomers, but that doesn’t make her happy either because she likes the thought of her El Cid out there in the job market, in the bedroom, dealing with shysters, so long as he is all gooey and tender and empathetic with her - listening to her and then paying off her credit cards each month.”

“Yeah, I get the picture.”

“And your music is all about the crisis of masculinity, the lone crusader taking on the world without a real war to fight. That’s what we thought anyway, so we just did it. It says in the contract that we are allowed to.”

“That’s all right, then.”

“Don’t get sore, Jake. We are going to make you big.”

“Jason …..”

“…. Jeff …..”

“…. Jeff, for the moment, I couldn’t care a toss.”

“Take your time, Jake. Get used to the idea.”

Chapter 18

I phone Cathy. This time she actually answers.

“I’m afraid that I can’t take the kids tomorrow. Jade and I have split up. Actually, it’s weirder than that.”

“You mean that Harry might be the father of Jade’s child, not you?”

“Yeah. How did you know that?”

“He told me weeks ago. That’s why I kicked him out.”

“It is?”

“Yeah, but I had had enough of him anyway. What are you doing now, then?”

“I’m heading for Stoker’s place on foot. I’ve just been sacked or resigned or whatever.”

“What a day. You had better come round here, then.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. The kids are gasping to see you. You won’t believe the shit Josh has been giving me. Sam too. They love their dad.”

“If only their mother did.”

“Come round.”

It takes me half an hour or so to reach Priory Grove. I could take the bus but I prefer to walk. I have a lot of anger to get rid of before I reach Cathy otherwise I will end up punching her.

When I get there, everyone greets me at the door with great beaming smiles. “Daddy! We’ve really missed you.”

Inexplicably, I start to cry. “Me too.”

“Come in, Jake,” Cathy orders me. “You are making an exhibition of yourself.”

It’s strange being in a place that used to be yours, where you used to have a place. You don’t know whether you should re-arrange yourself or whether you should re-arrange the furniture.

“Play with the kids for a bit, Jake. I need to phone Trevor.”

Trevor? Fucking Trevor. That breaks the mood.

“I really don’t want to see Trevor, Cathy, if you don’t mind. I can’t face him right now.”

A sneaky expression crosses Cathy’s face. “Relax, Jake. It won’t be as bad as you think.”

“I have already hit Harry today, walked out on Jade and lost my temper with Roger. I’m not safe.”

“You’ll see.”

Anyway, Josh and Sam persuade me. I cannot prick their bubble any more like the world has pricked mine. They take me off to their rooms. It’s incredible. I can feel their breath on my face again in my own house and share their excitement.

Somebody has arrived downstairs. I hear a muted greeting and a “He’s upstairs” from Cathy.

“Don’t go yet, Dad,” Josh begs so I don’t. Trevor can certainly wait - Cathy too.

“What about me?” Sam asks.

“I’m coming, Sam.” I’ve forgotten the eternal tug-o’-war.

It’s nearly an hour later when I arrive downstairs, keeping them simmering.

Cathy meets me in the hallway. “Come and meet Trevor.”

I walk into the lounge and there is Trevor, the same Trevor I have been dealing with at Crowflies Records.

“What?”

“Hello, Jake.”

“What on earth is going on?”

“Only good things from what I hear,” he replies.

“Are you fucking my wife?”

“Ssshh!” Cathy reacts sharply, pointing upstairs.

Trevor laughs. “Oh, Jake, don’t go all hostile on me again. I much preferred you the other way, I have to tell you.”

“Well, are you?”

“Does the expression ‘you silly goose’ mean anything to you?”

“Does a smack in the face meaning anything to you?”

Trevor sits down and crosses his legs as if he couldn’t be more at home. I am about to rush at him but Cathy stands between us.

“I like an artist with fire, Jake. You’ll go far. I can feel it.”

“Do you seriously think I am going to work for a guy who is fucking my wife?”

“Well, you’re under contract, Jake.” There is an irrepressibly smug twinkle in his eyes. I am going to have a damn good go at repressing it.

“I’ve really enjoyed getting to know Cathy…..” he winks “…. if you know what I mean.”

I turn. Either I leave now or I kill him.

“But seeing as you ask so nicely, Jake, no I haven’t touched your wife in that sense.”