Only One Woman

by Christina Jones

  In St B’s hall, Vix was fussing round me like a mother hen. ‘Now, you don’t need to move all night, unless you need the lav of course, if you feel awful. Do you? Feel awful, I mean?’

  ‘No,’ I shook my head. ‘The pethidine has kicked in nicely – and honestly if this is my last night out I’m going to enjoy every minute of it. It’ll be just my luck that the group is rubbish tonight.’

  ‘They won’t be,’ Vix grinned. ‘Last time we were here, it was The Foundations, wasn’t it? And you got a really good interview with them – and they were amazing. This lot will be, too. You know they always have good groups here – even the ones we’ve never heard of like – um – Narnia’s Children.’

  The DJ – who was actually Mr Fisk, St Barnabus’s science teacher, who always played records between the live acts and acted as Master of Ceremonies at the Saturday dances – had replaced the Monkees with the Tremeloes. The Dolly Rocker girls in front of the stage all posed and pouted and pushed each other and danced a bit more wildly.

  Then the music stopped, and Mr Fisk left his record deck, and scampered up on the stage, beaming in the spotlight, clapping his hands for silence.

  ‘He really thinks he’s Bruce Forsyth,’ I giggled. ‘And this is Sunday Night at the London Palladium.’

  The girls pressed closer to the foot of the stage.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls!’ Mr Fisk yelled into his microphone. ‘Lovely to see a full house tonight! Now, let’s give a big, big St Barnabus welcome to your sensational band for this evening! All the way from Jersey in the Channel Islands! Let’s hear it for – Narnia’s Children!!!’

  Everyone clapped and cheered and whistled and stamped their feet.

  ‘Blimey,’ Vix said. ‘No wonder we’d never heard of them. They’re foreign.’

  The green curtains swished back and the footlights mingled in a smoky haze with the overhead criss-crossing spot-beams. The towers of speakers, slender spikes of microphones and snakes of cables transformed the stage from a school hall to a full-blown rock show and Narnia’s Children roared into ‘I Get Around’ by the Beach Boys.

  ‘Wow…’ Vix mouthed, looking at me, wide-eyed. ‘Just wow…’

  Just wow, indeed…

  It was too loud to speak, to say anything, so we just stared at them – and each other.

  The four boys – Narnia’s Children – on stage weren’t just brilliant musicians and sexy movers – they were definitely four of the most devastatingly gorgeous blokes we’d ever seen.

  Tall, lean, long-haired and out-of-this-world-stunning, wearing skin-tight, brightly coloured flared trousers, and black skinny-rib sweaters that didn’t even attempt to hide their incredible tanned bodies, they rocked into another belting Beach Boys hit, followed by early foot-stomping Beatles, and then The Hollies – all very loud, fast-paced and brilliantly close-harmonied. They could play and they could sing.

  West-coast rock-pop at its best.

  The Dolly Rockers were no longer dancing in front of the stage. Instead, they were pressed, three deep, against it. Just gazing up in total and complete adoration.

  I laughed at Vix, leaning close, my mouth to her ear. ‘I think the Dolly Rockers want to eat them.’

  ‘I don’t blame them,’ she yelled back. ‘They’re mega, mega cool, totally brilliant – oh, and not to mention the sexiest blokes Harbury Green has ever seen… I’m going to book a holiday in Jersey if that’s what the boys are like.’

  Me too, I thought, if I wasn’t going to be annoyingly dead… because I’d just tumbled instantly and stupidly head-over-heels for the beautiful boy on the guitar, the boy with the long silky black hair falling into the amazingly turquoise eyes.

  The most beautiful boy in the world.

  ‘Mine’s the singer!’ Vix howled in my ear. ‘I’ve always loved a tall blond boy!’

  As Jeff, Vix’s childhood sweetheart boyfriend, was sort of squat with a lot of gingery hair and even more gingery freckles, I said nothing, just smiled happily to myself, drinking it all in. OK, mainly drinking in the beautiful boy on the guitar. I may not see another Saturday night, I thought, but this one was – so far at least – pretty damn near perfect.

  After a couple more numbers, all of which had the St B’s crowd dancing and singing along, and the Dolly Rocker girls still staring lustfully at the stage, being watched by their jealous-eyed boyfriends, Narnia’s Children stopped playing, and the blond God singer stepped forward.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said huskily into the microphone. Golly – even his voice was sexy! ‘That’s a really great welcome. And before we go any further with our first set, let me introduce you to the boys…’

  ‘Glory be, he’s gorgeous…’ Vix sighed.

  ‘On drums,’ he indicated the fabulous, tall, tanned boy with the Marc Bolan curls, ‘we have Mo… And on bass guitar we have Joss…’ Joss, darkly, dangerously, gorgeous, looked exactly like a Caravaggio angel – I’d done Art at A level and had been very taken with Caravaggio. ‘And on guitar…’ Madly, I was holding my breath, ‘we have Scott…’

  Scott… I rolled the name around in my head. Scott – oh, yes, it suited him…

  ‘And I’m Zak,’ he grinned, caressing the microphone. ‘And collectively we’re Narnia’s Children. And now you know who we are, we’d really like to get to know you – so don’t forget to come up and say hi when we take our first break.’

  This was met by screams and shrieks from the crowd. Mostly the girls.

  ‘Try and stop me,’ Vix breathed as the lights dimmed some more, and the St B’s glitter-balls revolved and sparkled.

  ‘You’re joking? What about Jeff?’

  Vix just grinned at me. I shook my head and looked back at the stage, gazing at Scott, as Narnia’s Children rocked into The Hollies’ ‘Just One Look’.

  Scott and Zak shared the microphone, harmonising on this one.

  The words of the song… Scott was singing the words of the song – ‘Just One Look, That’s All It Took’ – and looking straight at me…

  Rubbish! Embarrassed by my own foolishness, I stared down at the floor in the darkness. He wouldn’t even be able to see me from the stage. And even if he could, he wouldn’t be interested, and no, of course he couldn’t see me, not with the gloom and all those dozens of people dancing and the entire hall only being lit by the shimmering glitter-balls.

  Just one look – that’s all it took…

  Oh, but The Hollies had never sung a truer word, I thought dolefully, realising that falling head over heels for a gorgeous stranger was possibly one of the most ridiculous things I’d ever done in my entire life.

  Just one look…

  When it ended there was the usual eruption of applause and screams. I just stared at the floor and hoped no one could see me blushing at my foolishness.

  ‘And this next song,’ Zak was laughing, ‘is for someone who can’t be here tonight but who is very special to someone in the band…The words mean a lot…’

  The Beach Boys’ ‘Girl Don’t Tell Me’…

  Please, please, please, I thought, don’t let the someone special be anything to do with Scott.

  Again he and Zak were sharing the microphone and the close-harmony vocals: “I met her last summer….” and laughing at one another, sharing a secret joke.

  Please, please let the song and the someone be special to Zak…

  Then I shook my head at my own stupidity, instinctively knowing both the someone and the song belonged to Scott, and sighed.

  Three more songs and Narnia’s Children took a break. Mr Fisk was back at his turntable and playing The Turtles.

  ‘You’re not really going to talk to him, are you?’ I asked as Vix scrambled to her feet and headed towards the curtained-off stage. ‘Zak. I mean, not seriously?’

  ‘Course I am. Come on, we’re out to have fun tonight, aren’t we?’

  ‘Yes, but…’ I nodded to the masses of Dolly Rockers in their baby-doll smocks and their Bally button-up shoes, ‘look
at them. They’re practically trampling on one another to get up the steps and round backstage. You don’t want to be counted as one of them, do you?’

  ‘No, course not. I’m not joining the groupie hordes. I’m going to use all my feminine wiles to stand out from the crowd… Come on… That Scott is dead dishy…’

  Self-preservation kicked-in and I shook my head. ‘No, you go. I saw Debbie and Sally from work in the queue earlier. I’ll go and chat to them in the break… I’ll see you back here.’

  ‘Your loss,’ Vix grinned, and sashayed off towards the steps.

  I found Debbie and Sally, bought another beaker of orange squash, chatted to some other friends and went to the loo. By the time I got back to our seats, Mr Fisk was playing something by The Shadows, a lot of people were trying to do the Hank Marvin walk and failing, and Vix was sitting on the edge of the stage with Zak on one side of her and Scott on the other.

  Some of the Dolly Rockers were standing in front of the stage looking murderous.

  ‘Stella!’ Vix beckoned me over. ‘Come here – quickly! We’ve just been talking about you.’

  Hoping I wasn’t blushing, pretty sure that I was, and knowing that if I refused I was going to look very silly indeed, but cursing Vix silently and violently, I walked across, climbed the shallow steps and sat on the stage beside Scott.

  Feeling like a complete fool, and almost unable to look at him because close-to he was even more devastatingly beautiful – if that was possible – I was totally convinced that he could hear my heart thundering under my ribs.

  ‘There,’ Vix grinned. ‘Stella, this is Zak and Scott, as you probably know if you were listening earlier. Zak and Scott, this is my best friend, Stella.’

  We all smiled at one another. Scott’s smile was all lovely and wide and lop-sided. Oh my word, he was so gorgeous. All my poise and cool flew out of the window and I knew when I spoke my voice would come out in some sort of strangulated squeak.

  ‘Fab,’ Vix smiled. ‘Now I just need to powder my nose, so I’ll leave you to get to know each other.’

  ‘What?’ I glared at her.

  ‘I’ll only be a couple of minutes,’ she chuckled. Then she leaned forward and whispered. ‘Don’t waste the opportunity. The rest of the Dolly Rockers are being entertained backstage by Mo and Joss, oh and apparently the roadie, who I think is called Rich. I’ve captured these two for you to make your evening really special.’

  And she was gone.

  Zak watched her go, and stood up. ‘She’s cool. Shame she’s spoken for – she told us about her boyfriend… I guess I’d better go and check out the talent backstage and leave you two to it. See you soon, Stella, lovely to meet you – and Scott, 5 minutes, ok?’

  Scott nodded, then he smiled at me again. He really had a fabulous smile.

  ‘Hi, Stella.’ His voice was deep and warm and well-educated. It did nothing to calm my butterflies. He stared at me and nodded slowly. ‘I love the outfit and the sequins… but to be honest, it seems such a waste.’

  ‘Sorry?’ I frowned at him. ‘I’m not sure…’

  ‘Your operation. Your friend told us all about it.’

  ‘Did she?’

  She’d told them – complete strangers – that I had major personal internal medical problems and was going to die? Oh – I knew I’d kill her.

  ‘Sorry, then. She really shouldn’t have. I’m sure you didn’t want to know all the gory details.’

  ‘She didn’t go into any details, just said you were having the operation on Monday. Aren’t you scared?’

  ‘Terrified.’

  ‘So don’t do it.’

  ‘I don’t have a choice.’

  This was the most surreal conversation anyone could be having, surely? Especially with someone you’d only been introduced to 30 seconds earlier and who you knew you’d love for the rest of your – obviously – very short life, all played out to a background of The Bonzo Dog Doo Dah Band’s ‘I’m The Urban Spaceman’ blaring from Mr Fisk’s turntable.

  ‘Of course you have a choice. I mean, I don’t know you or anything about you, but you’re definitely a girl and you’re very pretty – so why do you want to be a man?’

  ‘What???’

  ‘The sex-change operation.’ Scott looked at me, his face serious. ‘Your friend said you were having a sex-change op and were going to be called Adrian.’

  ‘What????’ I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘She said what??? Oh, God in heaven! I’m really going to kill her!!! I’m so, so sorry. That’s not why I’m going into hospital.’

  ‘Thank the lord for that,’ Scott grinned at me, the turquoise eyes dancing wickedly. ‘I was pretty sure she was lying, and I didn’t think you looked much like an Adrian, but she was very convincing and I didn’t want to insult you if it was true.’

  ‘No, it isn’t, and oh yes, she is very convincing. She can usually manage to pull the wool over most people’s eyes. And now I’m really going to throttle her! Anyway, I’m just so sorry – so, yes, I’m going into hospital, yes, I’m having an operation, yes, I’m petrified because I think I’ll die under the anaesthetic, and no, I’m definitely not having a sex change or going to be called Adrian. Ever.’

  Scott laughed. ‘As opening conversations go, this will probably rank as one of the strangest I’ve ever had.’

  ‘I was just thinking the same thing.’

  We smiled at each other. I swear there were fireworks and butterflies and bluebirds and rainbows and celestial trumpets.

  ‘I’d be scared, too,’ he said softly. ‘And I don’t know what you’re having done, but you’ll be ok. Promise. So was she lying about the other part too?’

  ‘Probably. Depends what it was.’

  ‘That you’re a music journalist.’

  I laughed. ‘Only if she said I worked for Melody Maker or the NME. I do freelance part-time pop interviews for the teenage magazines – but my real grown-up boring job is as a civil servant.’

  ‘Teenage magazines sound perfect. Just right for us. Will you interview us, then? One day? Seriously?’

  ‘Scott!’ Mo, the fabulous Marc Bolan’d-haired drummer, suddenly poked his head through the curtains before I could answer. ‘Up here – now! We’re ready for the second set.’

  Scott nodded. ‘Yeah, sure. OK.’

  ‘Now!’ Mo snapped, glaring down at me. ‘Come on!’

  Scott scrambled to his feet and looked at me. ‘I hope you’ll enjoy the second set. And please – don’t run away at the end.’

  ‘Scott!!!!’ Mo roared. ‘Come on – we’re waiting for you!’

  ‘See you later,’ Scott smiled, and disappeared through the curtains.

  Mo gave me another glare and followed him.

  I floated back to my seat, completely and idiotically in love, and only vaguely wondering why Mo didn’t seem to like me. Not, I thought, as I sat down, any of it mattered because I’d never see any of them again.

  Vix sauntered back and sat down again just as the lights dimmed.

  ‘I will kill you!’ I hissed. ‘How could you say that?’

  ‘It worked, though, didn’t it?’ she hugged me. ‘It was a great ice-breaker. I knew he’d talk to you because he was intrigued.’

  ‘Intrigued? He must have thought he’d wandered into a mad-house. Dear God, Vix – a sex change???? Why on earth – ?’

  ‘Because I think he fancies you, and because I saw the way you were looking at him, and because this is going to be a night to remember for you – and I’m guessing that he gets the come-on, and the same boring old chat-up lines, from girls everywhere he goes – so I just used my ingenuity. No, it’s ok – no need to thank me. It’s what best-friends do.’

  I laughed. ‘You’re crazy. Anyway, of course he doesn’t fancy me and even if he did, which he doesn’t, what would be the point? He’s clearly got someone else, I’m going to die on Monday and he’s going to be in Jersey – with the someone else who couldn’t be here tonight.’

  ‘B
ut you do fancy him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘There then. Trust Auntie Vix.’

  Narnia’s Children’s second set was just as mind-blowingly amazing as the first had been. Whether they were playing blasting rock’n’roll, full-on complex close-harmony or pure bouncy pop, they were excellent. This time though, I did watch Scott. It didn’t matter that he had a special someone or that he’d be a million miles away by the morning and that I’d never see him again because I’d be dead. None of it mattered. I just wanted to soak up as much of him as possible and store it in my memory so that I could drag it out and it would be the last thing I’d see before the anaesthetic killed me.

  And then they played The Hollies’ ‘Stay’. And Scott was singing.

  And he was looking at me.

  “… please stay… just a little bit longer…”

  Vix jabbed me in the ribs. ‘Told you!’

  And I just smiled. Because it was silly and futile and pointless, not to mention wrong, for so many reasons.

  And then, all too soon it was over. To roars of approval and deafening applause and heartbroken screams from the Dolly-Rockers, Narnia’s Children finished their set with a flourish and the green curtains swished shut.

  I actually felt bereft.

  The lights in the hall blazed into life, and immediately the dark, smoochy atmosphere was bleached away. The packed hall no longer looked exciting – it just St B’s gym hall. Mr Fisk was busily packing away his records, the Dolly Rockers were still hanging around the stage steps and most other people, blinking blearily, were heading for the cloakroom. I stood up.

  ‘Whoa,’ Vix grabbed my arm. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To get my coat.’

  ‘Not before we’ve said goodbye to the boys in the band. C’mon…’

  ‘Vix! No! Let’s go home.’

  But Vix wasn’t listening and she hauled me after her, cutting a swathe through the Dolly Rockers, up the steps, and still with me in tow, barged through the curtains on to the stage.

  Backstage, it was mayhem.

  The boys and a slightly older bloke, presumably Rich the roadie, were winding miles of cables, hefting towers of speakers, packing away guitars, dismantling the drum kit, uncoupling microphone stands.