Chapter 4
Dream or Nightmare
I could not believe how fast "I’ll Find You" shot up to the top twenty singles chart. Within just one week, it was sitting at the number one spot, with reported first week sales of nearly one hundred thousand. It was unbelievable, and was way beyond the expectations of Regal, Norm and Myself. The response from the television companies also caught us all off guard and I was offered Television work every single day if I wanted it. However, I was tied to the existing contractual bookings at a lower rate of pay, which was a little bit hard to accept. However, I knew that once we had completed them, Norm would more than likely quadruple our fee.
The B-side of the record was "Dripping Jack"; we had chosen this particular number because it was a good rocker of a song. Therefore, it would make up for the fact that the A-side was a little slow. In saying slow, I mean that you could actually understand every word I sang. It was a well known fact that with most of the very fast rocking songs, not many people could understand the words, which is why a lot of people end up singing completely different words to those on the record.
I told Susan that I had written the song especially with her in mind, as a sign of my love for her. At first, she did not believe me but slowly, as I explained all of the words to her, she accepted that what I told her was true. Once, when the press asked me why it was slow and whether I was going to be singing ballads from now on, I told them that it was not a ballad but a nice slow blues number. They seemed to walk away contented, which proves something that I’ve always believed, that half the time the press do not know what they’re talking about, and you can usually baffle them with bullshit. Deep inside, I knew that I was going down the same road that Elvis and Cliff had taken, and I had criticised them heavily for it. I guess it was a case of never say never, because one day it will come back to haunt you and bite you on the bum.
Susan and I spent a lot of time together whenever the band’s heavy engagement schedule allowed. During that time, she took me home to introduce me to her Mother, who lived on a council estate almost in the middle of the town. However, she did not tell her that I was a rock and roll singer, deciding to keep it from her because of the bad remarks that she would make every time one was featured on the television. Susan had even made sure that she did not watch the Top of the Pops on Thursday nights, so that she could not guess who I was.
While we were with her Mother, Susan started talking about marriage, and somehow it did not come as a shock or a surprise. For the first time in my life, I could actually consider settling down with somebody, especially if it were Susan. I could not believe the changes that were coming over me because of her influence. Even while singing, I would not bother searching out the crowd for the special girl I would like to meet in the dressing room after the gig. They were there, and I knew we needed them to buy more of our records, but in Susan, I believed that I had found the right girl for me to settle down with and start a family life. Is that what usually happens to everybody in the end? Whenever you are in the street and you see a seventy-year-old guy hobble past you using a walking stick, ask yourself what exploits that wrinkled-up face has been through in its seventy years.
I started to believe that I had been no different from all of the other young people who had come before me. I guess it could be aligned to evolution. What was happening to me had happened to millions of other people over the years; it’s called growing up, and I was going to take full advantage of it. I had made up my mind that I could spend a lifetime with Susan and wanted to enjoy every minute of the experience.
While Susan and I were spending a lot of time together, Norm did not approve of our relationship and, at one time he pulled me to one side to make his feeling known to me. He went on to explain that it would not be good for my image if it became known that I had a regular girl friend, telling me to look at what had happened when it leaked out that John Lennon was in fact married. He went on to explain that it was the young teenage girls who were buying most of my records, and that it was those same girls that mobbed us wherever we went. By doing so, they guaranteed that we would receive the right publicity from the press each day. He continued to tell me that we had received enough bad press during the past couple of years to last us a lifetime. I cut him off before he finished, telling him that every time we think about it, something else happens, and I did not need it to happen right now. Anyway, he went on to tell me that it was not good for me to be seen with her. However, when I told him that we were thinking about getting married, he cringed and distorted his face in a look of horror. As he walked away, he could not help himself, and told me that when that day came it would be the end of my lucrative career. I quickly replied that at least it would not cost me £3000 every time he wanted me to make another record.
Susan started accompanying me to some of the bookings and, once again, Norm did not like it, especially as she was usually by my side whenever I signed autographs as we left the venues together. Although, to be fair to her, she did stand slightly behind me, and, in this way I’m sure some of the fans felt that she was part of the publicity entourage that was by now following the band around. However, it became a problem for us to have a quiet meal together, because somebody would usually recognise us in the restaurant. Then our holding of hands and whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ears became impossibility. Not to mention that I was getting writer’s cramp from the constant signing of autographs, but I could not complain. This was the life and direction I had chosen to follow and it was these people who were paying my wages. For a time, I’m sure that Susan realised this, but she always said that I should be able to switch off just as she does when she leaves work. Sorry, I told her, adding but, unfortunately, I’m on call twenty-four hours day. Up until then, I had been living a dream and told her that I had lived it to the full, while now it was a case of changing the direction of that dream so that it included Susan. She smiled as she told me that she hoped it would not always be like this, as it was like living in a drinking glass while the world watched our every move.
Then, all too suddenly, our tour of the North was over, and we were directed by Norm to head back to London. It’s funny, but I had noticed that there was a completely different music scene in the north of England, compared to the south and London area. It was as though there was an imaginary line drawn through the map, somewhere near Watford Gap service station just north of London. Even the Beatles had realised this; after becoming the top band in the Liverpool-Manchester area, they had moved to London in order that they could take on the whole country, and look how that had worked out for them.
When bands visited the north, they always played in the workmen’s clubs and there were hundreds of them, all very large venues that seated hundreds of people. In this way, they could earn very large fees. In Hartlepool’s alone at that time there were reported to be well over 180 clubs. This meant that you could play a different one each night and not return for six months. In London, there were no workingmen’s clubs; most of the venues for the bands were very large public houses dance hall venues and hotels. Unfortunately, they could not hold crowds as vast as in the North, and so they paid smaller fees. However, London was where it was all happening; it was where the Swinging Sixties got its name and the whole world was watching what we were doing. It was also very easy to get the television work there, as there were several studios to record the music and chat shows that were eagerly being snatched up by the major Television networks.
Back in London, I was presented with a big problem and for a time I did not know how to handle it. Norm had told me that an arrangement had been made for me to go to the Regal Studios so that we could all discuss my contract, even though it still had a little time to run. Therefore, I made a few discreet enquiries around a couple of the other studios, to see if I could better myself. I tried ringing EMI and the Decca organisation, but did not have too much success, as they were not prepared to talk over the phone. Because I did not want to be seen entering t
heir offices, I did not take it any further. However, I struck it lucky with one of the smaller companies, known as Becker Records, and during a conversation I agreed to meet one of their managers over a cup of coffee in Carnaby Street, a place to be seen in those days.
I was pleasantly surprised that the person I had to meet was in fact a woman. She introduced herself as Wanda Becker, chief publicity manager of the company and daughter of its owner. Wanda had been sent to listen to what I had to say. I explained that my contract was coming up for renewal and that I was looking for a better deal. She became very interested. Her first offer caught me quite unawares and surprised me to a point where I did not know what to say. She had told me that they were only interested in signing me if I went solo. To me, that was a dirty word and I just told her out right that it was not possible. After all, I had grown up with some of these guys, and they depended on me to make a living. I had lived next door to them and they had given up their jobs to come on the road with me. As she continued, she told me not to take it personally but as a solo act, I was more marketable to the public and we would all make a lot more money out of the deal. I told her that it was out of the question. Then I paused for a couple of seconds before asking what if I only used my lead guitarist, who arranges most of my work. However, she was having none of this, telling me it's you or nothing. And with that, the meeting came to an abrupt end. Just as Wanda was about to leave, she handed me her business card and told me to give her a ring if I changed my mind.
I spent days wondering what the hell to do next. Susan was the only person that I confided in, during one of my daily phone calls to her. Fair dues to her, she just listened, not wanting to become involved, although I told her that she was involved as it was my future and that she was to be part of it.
My mind was taken off of my contractual problems for a couple of days as the band was invited to the BBC sound studios at Maider Vale near Marble Arch, to record a session for the very popular Saturday Club show at that time. It was all very exciting, knowing that the Beatles had all sat in the very same chairs that we now found ourselves sitting in. The show used to go on air from 10am to midday on a Saturday morning, and would usually consist of the top records and artist of the day. With the "Convertibles", the whole program had been dedicated to us, and so it gave us a chance to play some songs that television and radio audiences had never heard before. With this in mind, I came up with some of my earlier material, songs like "Please Help Me I’m Married" and "A Momentary Lapse of Freedom". However, it did not go down too well with some of the fans, one of whom rang the radio station complaining that the songs were too lovy dovy. He went on to tell me that I knew nothing about a woman until I met one in court. Lucky for us, he was cut off before he said something that the station would regret. However, it was only a small hiccup and the show as a whole went down well for us. In fact, most of the callers wanted to ask JC questions; he was fast taking over my role as the sex symbol in the band and the girls all swooned over him. With my relationship with Susan blossoming, I did not mind. Since we had been apart, I had not looked at one girl while having bedroom thoughts on my mind.
The day of the big meeting between Norm, me and the big wigs at Regal Records came. They wasted no time in getting down to the main topic: of extending my contract. However, Norm was one step ahead of them, demanding that the old one be torn up and a completely new one that took into consideration my popularity in the country at the moment be drawn up. One of the guys was quick to point out that my popularity could die tomorrow, as had happened to a few other up-and-coming stars in the past. Then Norm silenced him with the swift reply that there was also the chance that I could become as big as Elvis, a remark that brought in the leader of the Regal boardroom team, exclaiming that was what they wanted to talk to us about. He felt that I might not make it that high, but he felt that I could at least rival Cliff, if I went solo just as he had done. Wow there was a deafening silence in the room for a couple of minutes; it was as if you could cut the thick atmosphere with a knife. I was the first to speak, beating Norm to the punch. Telling them all that I’ve come this far with my friends, and I‘ll get further with or without the record companies help. The top man replied that he did not think so, adding that it was Regal that gave me my very first break.
I could feel myself starting to lose my temper, and found myself telling them that I had just lined their pockets with gold, the proceeds from two number one hit records, while my own pockets had become lighter to the tune of £3000 per record. I could hardly call it a big break could I? I went on to say that in my language I’d call that a big loss.
I was asked to hear out their proposal before I made any further comments. Once I saw the broader picture, their proposal might make a little more sense to me.
They felt that if I went solo they would be able to market me more easily than if I was a member of a band. There were more openings for talent like mine on the big shows around the country. Then there was television work, all of which would pay off handsomely. They went on to propose that I get two and a half pence as the singer for each record I sold and five pence as the songwriter. They accepted the point that their songs were old fashioned and not what the young people of the day were searching for. My songs had been well and truly tested on the market and they liked the results. This could all be offered to me on a new five-year contract, while giving them first option on a further five when the time arrived.
Norm looked at me and had to admit that it was a good offer and that I should consider it closely before making a decision. Therefore, we all took time out for a break and drink, agreeing to resume in an hour’s time.
I was still devastated when Norm went all over it again so that I fully understood what was being offered. However, I had to point out that I was being asked once again to sack the only friends that I had. They were people that I had grown up with, one of them had been my neighbour, and how the hell do you tell people like that that you don’t want them anymore. Without their help, it’s a good bet that I would not have been where I was today. Jesus, I shouted, in the early days, some of these guys even bought me the very food that kept me alive. It was like having to cut my own nose off to spite my face. I rang Susan at work and she did not know what to say to me. After all, she did not like my lifestyle with the band in the first place; as far as she was concerned, maybe life would be better if I was on my own. However, at no time did she mention that to me. Instead, she told me that as I was the leader, it was me who had to make the big decision. Then I would not be able to blame anybody else but myself if it were to go wrong for me.
I was first to speak when we all returned to the boardroom to continue the discussion. I started by saying, if I agreed to their proposal; there were a couple of minor things that I wanted for myself. Firstly, that Benjamin would be with me at all times in the studio and that he was paid by Regal. Secondly, and I knew that this was going to be hard to sell, that I retain Ginger as my lead guitarist. He had become so good by that time that he was considered to be one of the best in the country. He knew my work; he knew how to lift my performance to a higher level. If I were to play live anywhere, he would be able to tell all of the other musicians that would accompany me exactly what was expected of them. If, for some reason, they bombed out, then Ginger would be able to hold it all together. Furthermore, I felt that he would be an asset to the studios, as his playing was second to none. To my surprise, it was agreed without debate, just as if they knew exactly what I was going to ask for. Everybody was amazed that the deal had been concluded so quickly, having been prepared for a long drawn-out fiery affair. Norm and I were then told that they were just drawing up the new contract and that I would be able to sign it before we left.
Ten minutes later, the door opened and in walked Wanda Becker, along with a secretary carrying the document. As I spoke to her by name, Norm was quite shocked to know that I already knew her. I told him that we have had a brief meeting in the past, but where she fits in with this lo
t, I’ve not got a clue. Wanda was very nice and spoke to me as if we were old friends. Nevertheless, I was determined to know where she fitted in before I signed anything. She then proceeded to explain to Norm and me that Regal Records were a subsidiary of her Father’s company Becker Records, and she usually handled all of the legal documents for both companies. I could not resist asking if she’d had a hand in me being able to hang onto Ginger. She just smiled and told me that I owed her for that one.
I had been presented with one of the hardest tasks I would ever have to face in my entire lifetime. How the hell does one go about sacking lifelong friends? For Colin it was going to be the hardest; he was one of the original three in the photo in my album. The other member in that photo was Steve and I’d already sacked him for being constantly drugged up. Of the two that joined us in the town’s square during our basking days, which seemed like a million years before, JB had been a loyal and supportive friend, never questioning whatever I asked of him, while his mate Ginger was the guy I hoped I’d saved from the scrap heap. Mind you, he was every bit as good as I had made him out to be. His playing ability left me behind years ago.
Billy our first roadie had gone into the army and nobody had heard a word from him, although there was a rumour going around that he was killed fighting terrorists in Aden while serving in the Middle East. Then there was Dave Allen, the new roadie, and Ray Taylor, who had taken over from Steve on rhythm guitar; both had become very good friends and would have gone to the end of the world for me if had asked them.
I was sure that JC need not worry; he was so good that he would fit into another band without too much trouble. Bands would be banging on his door that night.
It was to be the hardest of decisions of my life so far, and so Norm came to the meeting to assist me. I was thankful that he did as I broke down completely in front of the band. Gone was the hard exterior shell that I used to throw up around me in order to rule the roast. That meeting brought me to tears in front of my friends, although I doubted that they would want to know me as a friend the next day. Norm spelt it out in as light a way possible, not wanting to offend anybody. The last thing we wanted was a big fight over what had been decided. To say that the band took it badly is on the lighter side of the scale; they were devastated and completely lost for words. The depression that set in that afternoon was deep and hurting, and some of the members would not recover from it lightly.
It hurt that they had been through the hard times while pooling our money to survive. We had always been there to support each other during the bad times. Now it was all over; they had nowhere to go and I felt like it was me letting them all down. Unbeknownst to me, Norm had taken Ginger on one side, warning him about what was about to happen and telling him not to get to involved as I had managed to secure a deal for him that we would both explain to him later. One thing that was not taken into consideration was the fact that we had one more booking to perform that night, to complete the latest tour in the London area.
What a mess that turned out to be. The atmosphere was so bad that half the audience knew that we had internal problems. Nobody smiled and jumped about like we usually did on stage. In fact, we played like morons and it’s a wonder that the audience did not want their money back after the dud performance that we gave them. I would have loved to go out on a high, giving the audience one of the best shows that they had ever seen; instead, we probably gave them one of the worst.
I had come to a crossroads in my search for fame and fortune, and my whole life now depended on which direction I took. There was a lot riding on this decision, so I was going to have to get it right. For me there would be no turning back from here.
The first thing I did after going through hell that night was to ring Susan, to try and get a little sympathy from somebody. She never really said much; instead, she just left it to me to get it all off my chest and to give her all of the details. The only remarks she made was that it had to be my decision, as nobody could help me make my mind up. Whether it turns out to be the right or wrong decision, it was something that I would have to live with for the rest of my life. After all it was me that wanted to get ahead, and for the moment I had just cleared one of life’s little hurdles. I then told her that Norm was working on a national tour, only this time it was to be completely different. There would be no staying in very small bed and breakfasts and travelling to the bookings each day. This time, I was to be driven in a large chauffeur-driven car, and I had managed to get Dave Allen, our old roadie the job. He was to drive me to the bookings and there would be hotel accommodation arranged close by each booking. The next day, we would all move on to whatever town or city I would be singing in. In this way, they were hoping to play most of the major towns and cities. Gone were the days of playing in the very small and pokey little village halls. Now it was time to play the big theatres and the larger of the workingmen’s clubs in every corner of the country. The only thing I was not happy with was that, at each venue, a support band would be waiting to back me, and so each night Ginger would have to teach a new band my song arrangements. The good news was that the venues had to supply and pay for the bands out of their own pockets. At last now I might be able to make a little money from my chosen profession.
Then there were going to be several televisions shows that I would be involved with. I told Susan that I would let her know so that she could watch me sing. Somehow, I did not think that she would be watching; she had not seen me sing for a long time and would not usually bother to go to the shows. I also neglected to tell her that Wanda Becker was going to accompany me as my personal manager. It would be Wanda’s job to make sure that I was happy and that everything ran smoothly.
This separation between us was very hard, and I longed to see her each night. Every day the separation became more frustrating, as we did not know when we would next see each other. It was made harder for me by the fact that she was constantly talking about marriage, and there was no way that we could get together to discuss the arrangements.
Because of Norm’s dislike of our relationship, we decided not to tell him what we were planning. We felt that we could get married and keep it secret from everybody, but the way we were going there was no way that we were going to be able to get together in a church. I let Susan have the last say, because she wanted to make all of the loose arrangements for a registry office marriage, and the very first time I was near Hartlepool’s we would just go for it. There would be no other people involved; for a best man we would just grab somebody off the street. I told her that it sounded good to me and that she could go ahead and do whatever she wanted. At least this way she was happy, and I’d cross the many bridges in front of me when I got to them.
As I came off stage after performing at the Plymouth Pavilion, Norm was there to inform me that there was a police officer waiting for me in the dressing room. Better hide the pot I told him and he laughed. I added that it was under the bed. However, the mood changed drastically as I entered the room to be confronted by the officer, and I was asked to take a seat before he started talking to me. With that, I knew it was going to be bad. My first reaction was that they were going to arrest me for something, but for what I had no idea. It could not be my Mother, as she had died the year before. My brain was still racing as I tried to work it all out. I even looked into the sergeant’s face, just hoping that there would be a clue of some kind. For some reason, Susan’s name did not enter my head, as things between us were going so well. Therefore, you can imagine my reactions as the sergeant asked me if I knew a Susan Russell. The alarm bells started ringing in my head, and I’m sure I didn’t hear every word he said. Somehow, my brain must have filtered out the words that were irrelevant, and all I heard was that she had been in an accident. I jumped up, wanting to see her, my brain not realising that she was up the top end of the country while I was at the bottom. I don’t really know what I said but I must have bombarded the officer with many questions, and I would bet that most of them were the same one. By th
is time, Norm had come into the room and was trying to console me. Somehow, he did not manage it and so a doctor was called to meet me at my hotel, where Norm said he would take me.
That night I was very heavily sedated, and Norm knew that I would take off for Hartlepool the minute I awoke. With this in mind, he cancelled five days’ bookings, giving everyone some breathing space to see what I would do next. Just as he thought, once I awoke I got Dave to take me north to see Susan. Wanda accompanied me, I guess just so she could keep an eye on her Father’s investment. It was a good job she did; otherwise I would have gone off my head being stuck in the back of a car for several hours all on my own.
By the time we reached the hospital, it was too late. She had passed away a couple of hours earlier, leaving me devastated. I did not know what to do, or where to go. I just did not know anything. All the time Wanda kept me within touching distance, half expecting me to pass out at any time.
There was even worse news to come as the doctor told me that she had been about two months’ pregnant at the time of the accident. That made my loss twice as hard to bear. I had never thought about being a Father before, and the very day that it entered my head, it had all been suddenly taken away from me.
Susan had been travelling in the front of a taxi, and while waiting at traffic light junction, a big truck had driven right into the back of the taxi. Susan had been propelled through the front windscreen, badly mutilating her face as she hit the glass. Her left hand had almost been severed at the same time. The taxi driver had been impaled on the steering column after the wheel broke away and killed, while the truck driver walked away with a few cuts and bruises. I think if I could have met up with him at that very moment I would have killed him with my bare hands. During those days, seat belts were only just being fitted to cars and it was not compulsory to wear them. My one thought was, if only she had worn one. However, you cannot change history. Maybe you can learn by it.
This devastating loss to me was more than I could take and I dropped into a drunken, drug-induced fog, not knowing what was going on around me for several days. However, it was Wanda and dear old Ginger who managed to drag me out of it, and convinced me that I needed to work so that I could start to put it all behind me. I tried telling them that I did not want to forget Susan. They rephrased what they had just said by telling me that life goes on, and that I needed an interest. Besides, a lot of people were depending on me for a living. There was a well-oiled machine waiting in the wings, all ready to go.
With their coaching, I made an effort to get back on the road. However, I made it plain that I did not want to sing "I’ll Find You" as it would be too hurtful and I doubted very much whether I would be able to finish the song. I had written it especially for Susan, so how could I sing it to a person who was no longer with me?
I picked up the tour, missing about two weeks of the bookings, which were later tagged on to the end so that nobody would be disappointed. By this time most of the country knew of my loss; it was being spread all over the press every day during my short break. This meant that there was going to be a little more interest than usual at the first couple of shows, to see how I held up to the strain. In other words, they were looking for a new story to crucify me with the next day. It was the old tall-poppy syndrome, which always seems to pop its ugly head up occasionally.
The big day came and I was starting to get a few butterflies in my stomach, not knowing if I could go through with it at the last minute. I’d started the ball rolling, but had I unleashed some sort of monster that I could not control. However, as I was about to take the stage, I walked over to Ginger and thanked him for getting me this far. I then dropped a bombshell when I asked him to include "I’ll Find You" as my first song of the bracket. I knew that I could rely on him to tell all of the other members on stage.
I walked out onto the stage to rapturous applause, just as the band struck up with the introduction of my latest hit record,"I’ll Find You". Then, as I opened my mouth, Susan just came pouring out, as I relived our relationship and love for each other. At times, I could feel tear drops running down my cheeks, but it was a wonderful feeling to be back on stage once again while remembering my love for Susan at the same time. As the saxophone solo took over, I could not help thinking that it sounded better than usual. As I turned around, I was astonished to see JC blowing his heart out in the manner that I had been accustomed to with the old band. Unbeknownst to me, Ginger had talked the powers that be into bringing back JC to replace the mediocre guy we had been using since I went solo. As I raised my hand to acknowledge his presence on stage, he just winked back and continued to blow his heart out. The rest of the show was a bit of a blur to me as I went from song to song, prompted by my guardian angel Ginger, who stood almost behind me. He talked to me during the whole show, explaining where we went next. I cannot thank him enough for what he has done for me over the years; he is one of the only true friends I still have, who is not with me purely for the money that I generate. I’m sure if he were given a choice; he would do it all for free if I asked him. He just loves his music and it’s all he lives for.
I was well received by the audience, who applauded me right through the whole show. Being the good showman that he was, Ginger milked them for every ounce of response that he could get and, as we finished he encouraged them to call me back on stage for an encore.
I was also surprised that I was well received by the press, which had turned out to be some sort of achievement for me. Usually I was portrayed as the villain of the peace. I was the guy who was putting all sorts of strange ideas into the heads of the young people of the day. However, one jerk from a smaller local newspaper described me as the first crooner that Britain had seen for many years. He went on to have the audacity to compare me with Johnny "Cry Baby" Ray, an American singer who had been very big in the middle to late fifties with songs like "Josephine" and "Crying". There was just no way that I had rubbed onions into my eyes before I went on stage to sing, as had been claimed of Ray in the USA; the rumour helped curtain his career. With me, as I sang "I’ll Find You" what you saw was what you got; it was Johnny Morris being as truthful and sincere as was possible. To back me up in this claim, during that whole day I did not have one drink or take one single pill. Mind you, the adrenalin that rushed though my body was enough to keep me on a high for almost twenty-four hours.
From that day on, I was no longer the true rocker I always thought I was. That day, I became a ballad singer and loved every minute of it. I willingly dropped into line behind the two greatest idols in my life, Elvis and Cliff. Almost every song that I wrote from that day on was about Susan and the very short relationship that had been stolen from me. I guess in a way it got me over this major catastrophe in my life although, if she had lived, I wonder if she would have become fed up with constantly being mentioned in some way in every single song that I wrote. Who knows? She might even have used it as a means of getting a divorce. Now, there’s a good idea for a story and would possibly make a good song.
From that day, I think the best song I wrote was "Reach Out and Touch the One you Love", followed by "Same Old Love"; both went to the number-one spot for me. A couple of notable B-sides were "If I Could See You Again" and "Living on the Wrong Side of Heaven". I guess I was very lucky to have so many top-ten hits compared, with other artists of the day.
I wrote tongue-in-cheek B-side songs, but most still managed to make it into the charts one way or another. Up and coming artists of the day even asked me to write for them, mainly because they wanted to cash in on my name, but it did not worry me. However, I was still amazed to see them climb the charts; while some faltered others ended up in the top ten. This encouraged me to start experimenting with assumed names, and was also amazed to see that some of the songs still made it into the charts. At least I realised then that I had a gift for writing that was being accepted by the public. I used silly names like Willy Wacky, Henry T Ford and O.G Long, a term used by the British army to describe their
jungle clothing; they called it Olive Green Long, for long trousers. Then there was KD Short, for Khaki Drill Shorts, and so on. I was never short of names and would use them at every opportunity, even if I were signing into a nightclub. I sometimes wondered how I would have got on if I had signed on the dole in this way.
Norm tried to launch my career into the USA market, and spent a small fortune of his own money trying to make it work. That was a laugh for a start; I never did work out why he did not con me into financing the whole venture, so it would only be me who lost my money, leaving his wealth safely locked away in the bank. I always had this funny cartoon picture of Norm in my head, standing in front of a bank with his hands neatly placed behind his back, telling passersby that there was a lot of money behind him. Yeah, it might be behind him, but it sure as hell was not in his pockets when it came to his shout at the pub.
Anyway, the American venture never really worked out for me; somehow, the American youngsters did not appreciate the style of music that I was trying to put across. Norm had allowed Ginger to accompany me to New York so that he could assist the American musicians who backed me on a couple of gigs and television work around town. Wanda also came along at the insistence of her Father, assisting me on with the TV and publicity. However, she was also looking for openings for other acts that her Father had under contract. I’m sure Norm was not aware of this at the time; otherwise he would have thought that she was having a free ride on our backs. Mind you I cannot blame them for using the situation to help her company. I guess in the end it was all good publicity for me.
Wanda was there to make life easier for me. She would make all of the arrangements, whether it was for business or pleasure. She saw to it that all of the finer details were sorted out and especially to my liking. It was nice; for the first time in my life I could sit back and take it easy. However, it was a little too easy at times, as I would spend a lot of the time drinking. I guess while I was out having to chase up everything myself there was not enough time to drink, whereas now I seemed to have a lot of time on my hands. It’s only natural, and far too easy to go to the bar fridge to kill a few hours in the hotels. At times, it felt like Wanda was Mothering me, but then, at other times, she might have been making a play for me. Either way, I was not interested. At that time, Susan was still playing a large part in my life. It would be safe to say that, in thought, she took up every single minute of every single day.
However, on one particular evening I almost let my guard down, as all three of us spent the evening in my room having a meal and listening to records. The drink ran freely and it was not long before we were all very drunk. The trouble started when Ginger somehow crawled into the spare bedroom and crashed out, leaving Wanda and myself sitting on the settee together. It was all nice and cosy when Wanda started asking me personal questions about my life, telling me her problems and adding that there was not a man in her life at the moment. Now I know I was drunk but I could sense what was coming next and dreaded the moment. After all how was I going to reject my boss’s daughter’s advances? I’m only human and I am a hot-blooded male at that. However, for the first time in my life I did not need female company, the fact that it was about to be handed to me on a plate made no difference. No, whatever thoughts went through my head, they always came back to Susan and the short time that we had spent together.
However, the whole problem was safely taken out of my hands when Wanda got up to go into the kitchen to get another beer from the fridge. By the time she got back, I had genuinely passed out, or so I was told the next day. Wanda somehow had to struggle back to her own room, leaving me on the settee all on my own.
We spent two weeks in New York performing gigs, but sadly it did not work out and we had to return dragging our tails behind us as they say. I guess it was plain for all to see that what we were doing was directed towards the British audiences, and that the Americans were off in another direction. I’ll never forget Norm’s face when he told us how much money he’d invested in the whole venture. However, he conceded that in the end, when everything was counted up and weighed against each other, he had broken even. Even though we did not make it big, we still sold a lot of records on that side of the Atlantic. With an audience the size of America’s, a mediocre record could sell a million copies quite easily. You could just not compare it to Great Britain’s hard up young record buying teenagers. When I think about it, Cliff had the same problem and never made it big in America, but it did not stop him from dominating the charts in England for a very long time and becoming highly successful.
When we returned to the UK, Norm made sure that I was kept very busy to ease Susan from my mind. If I was not on the road, then I was in the studio writing and recording. Mind you, it was the studio work that I liked the most, especially as I was working alongside Benj and Ginger. By this time Ginger was having some success with writing himself and playing instrumentals. It’s quite ironic that his own small hit records were all instrumentals, because that’s what he did best, and yet his big successes came with writing songs for other people. Ginger was the first to admit that he could not sing a note himself. Then, as an experiment, I recorded one of his songs called "Living Dangerously" and, to our joy; it got into the top five of the charts. I was pleased for Ginger; at least now I knew that, if my bubble burst, at least he would be able to make his own way in the music industry. This was backed up further by Benj, who used him whenever possible while recording other stars at Regal Records.
The next few years are still bit of a blur for me, as one hit record ran into another, as one very large bottle of beer ran into the next big bottle of whisky, washing down a mixture of pills and drugs. At times, it amazed me that I did not rattle. During all of those years, I must have been a horrible bit of work, and I would not blame anybody for not wanting to come near me, including the female sex.
However, it was nice to know that Ginger stood by me during all those dark years and that he was always there when it mattered. What I find hard to understand is that he was into everything just like me, but somehow he could control his intake, whereas I kept going until I passed out. I don’t know how he did it, but I sure wish he would tell me his little secret. Then we could market the idea and both become millionaires.
I don’t know how he managed it, but after a very long spell, he finally managed to get me back on the rails and onto a program to dry me out. At the time, I was not too appreciative but, in hindsight, it saved me from sliding into an ever-widening black hole from which I would never have been able to extract myself. Ginger had told me that the writing was on the walls, that my hits were drying up and that people did not want to book me because of my drinking habits. At first, it was hard but I stuck with it, and slowly I could sense myself regaining some sort of normality over a number of weeks.
What I also remember about those years is that Wanda showed an ever-increasing interest in me, fussing around me at every opportunity. However, even in my state of mind, I was still aware of what was going on around me, and I constantly kept my guard and trousers well and truly up. I don’t think that we ever slept together, although I know that’s what everybody would say. I like to think that our relationship was like the old proverbial saying; we were just good friends.
However, towards the end of what could only be described as wandering around in the wilderness while I was drying out, things were starting to look brighter between us. I was slowly sorting out my personal problems and releasing from my mind the loss I had suffered when Susan was taken away from me so dramatically. This opened the possibility that maybe we could make something more of the relationship in the future. However, it was a well-known fact that her Father did not like the thought of me actually having a relationship with her. He considered me to be a bit of a has-been and washed up, with no future in the music industry. He made no bones about the fact that I was a junkie and that nothing would ever change me, no matter what I tried. He would constantly tell her that he did not want to throw his good money
at a dead course. Many times, he told her to take a look around, if she didn’t believe what he was saying. There are far better fish in the sea, and they could run rings around this guy. He’s a no hoper, somebody who will never change, so why do you want to waste your time on him, he would constantly tell her. I’m sure if it had not been for Wanda he would have dropped me from his Regal label years before.
For some reason, Wanda must have believed in me and trusted that eventually I would come right and return to the top where she considered I should be. After all, she had seen me at my best during those early years, so she knew what I was capable of; it was just a case of getting the demons out of my head, and trying to live life at the full once more. Thinking about it now, I’m sure that Wanda used a lot of her own money to get me back on the rails. The whole crisis must have placed an enormous strain on the Father Daughter relationship, and I hope they were able to sort it all out and not drag their family down. The last thing I would have wanted was for them to break apart over my stupidity. Mind you, what happened to me was the way it was meant to be; I had played life to the full and enjoyed the most part of it. For me to say that I would have changed one part of it is to admit that I’d done something wrong, and that’s not the way it should be. I had played the cards that had been dealt me and I was happy with the path I had taken. If there were things to change, then now is the time, and that was what I was trying to achieve at that very time in my life. For all that had gone wrong over the years, I blamed nobody; it was life and I just accepted that as being part of it.
Anyway, I finally I invited Wanda out to a little restaurant I knew, known as the Gravy Train, in the east end of London, and we took a table in one of the corners near a small window. The meeting suddenly brought back to me the happy times that I’d had spent years earlier; it reminded me of my courting days, first with Jennifer and then later with Susan. Not being able to contain myself, I had to tell Wanda, who took it all very calmly. After a few seconds, she added and even to the point of no sex, which left me a little embarrassed. However, she was right; of all the girls that I had been out with, it was the ones I thought I was in love with who I had been cautious about sleeping with.
The evening went fine and a couple of times I found myself touching her hand. She even kissed me on the cheek a couple of times, but that was as far as it went. When I took her home, I dropped her off outside of her front door, gave her a kiss and I was on my way home. I had arranged a trip to visit Paris, and told her that when I returned maybe we could go out together and let our hair down for a couple of hours. Therefore, that evening I was in very high spirits but not the drinking type.
Unfortunately, as was the case during most of my life, whenever things started to look good for me, fate would show her ugly hand and slap me back down to size. This time it reared its ugly head in the shape of a taxi, by reminding me of the death of Susan and how she had been so dramatically taken from me.
I was sitting in the back seat of a taxi, watching the world pass by as we raced towards Heathrow airport. I was in a jovial mood, relishing the thought that my career had been kick started once again, and that I was being given a second chance. I was going to Paris where I was to film a couple of television interviews about the forthcoming release of my latest record in France. Looking at my watch, I could sense that we might miss the arranged flight and so I offered the driver an extra £20 if he managed to get me there on time. It is during the silent times like this that your mind wonders and I found myself planning my future in the music industry.
Occasionally the driver would ask me questions or make a remark on the weather, but it was basically a quiet ride. Until, that is, we came to a set of traffic lights just before the airport. Even the thought of traffic lights sent tingles down my spine. Looking over the driver’s shoulder, I could see that as we approached the lights were showing green, so the driver did not drop his speed but just drove straight over. Suddenly and without warning, a large car appeared from our left and drove straight into the side of the taxi. The force of the impact sent us spinning into the air, and I can remember us hitting the top of one set of traffic lights and knocking them clean off the pole. We continued to roll over a couple more times while in mid air before crashing back onto the road.
It’s funny, but I can actually remember having a flash back and thinking of Susan at that very moment and of what must have happened during her fateful taxi ride. The very next second I heard a deafening and sickening thud, followed by total darkness and unconsciousness. For me, it was all over.
Johnny Morris and the Convertibles Page 4