“Nah, did I fuck. But I don’t think they’ll let it go, so you’d best watch your back from now on. And don’t go bragging about it to anyone else.”
* * *
Colin turned to face the stage area when he heard a high-pitched whine of feedback. The long-haired man tapped his fingers on a microphone. A guitarist tuned up, while a bass player crouched down to adjust dials on a small amplifier. The drummer sat behind his drum kit, drinking from a bottle of lager.
“One two, one two,” the long haired man said.
Someone from the audience, a local punk with ripped purple trousers and an unruly mess of purple hair to match, strode up to the stage area.
“Go on, Marco,” a female voice shouted from one of the tables near the stage.
The youth said something to the long-haired man, who smiled and stood to one side, then gestured at the microphone. The youth grabbed the microphone stand, tilted it toward himself, and scowled at the audience.
“Fuck Thatcher,” he shouted. “You took us into this fucking war but nobody knows what we’re fighting for some fucking sheep some fucking land what the fuck do we want that for you fucking skank you fucking—”
He continued shouting for several minutes, to the accompaniment of blasts of feedback and an occasional beat on the drums. As one poem ended he started another before anyone could react, until with a final scream he walked off the stage and retook his seat.
“Well I hope the band is better than that,” Brian said.
“I thought he was cute,” Becky said, smiling. She craned her neck to see where the youth had gone.
The long-haired man tapped on the microphone again. “Right. Hello, I think we might be ready to start now. I’ll just take my pullover off, it’s a bit hot in here.”
“Fucking hippy,” someone shouted from the bar. Colin smiled and looked to see who it was, and saw the two skinheads standing there. His heart sank. He nudged Brian and nodded to them. Brian turned to look.
“Thank you for that contribution,” the long-haired man said. He smiled and flicked his hair back over his shoulder with a jerk of his head.
“Don’t worry about it,” Brian said, “they’ll not do anything with this many people here.”
“What are you on about?” Kaz asked, looking toward the bar.
“Nothing,” Brian said. “Let’s watch the band.”
“Right. Okay,” the long-haired man said. “Well I’m Mark and we’re The Astronauts, and we sound a bit like this.” He counted in the band, adding emphasis to the final digit. “One two three four, one two three four.”
* * *
Trog turned his back on the band when they started to play. He clapped his hand on Don’s shoulder to get his attention and leaned over to shout into his ear.
“I still reckon that student cunt knows something about it.”
Don nodded. “Yeah, so do I. Not much we can do about it tonight though, just the two of us, so we might as well get fucked off. This fucking hippy music’s doing me head in anyway.”
Trog picked up his lager and drained the glass. He turned and watched the singer cavorting around the microphone stand like some demented ballerina. He turned back to Don and put the empty pint glass down on the bar.
“Yeah, drink up then. Hopefully Ian will come round soon, and he can tell us who it was. Then we’ll get a fucking army together and do the cunt proper.”
Don drained his glass in one go and belched. He thumped the glass down on the bar and walked away. Trog took a final look at the band, shook his head, and followed Don through the door.
* * *
The music took Colin by surprise. From the long hair of the singer, and the promise of folk music on the poster outside, he had expected something like Pink Floyd or one of those other ghastly bands of that ilk, and had been ready to walk out as soon as they started. But while being a lot more melodic than Colin’s usual taste in music, the songs were certainly catchy and the tales of urban decay told by the lyrics were definitely something he could relate to.
Colin looked at Brian, intending to ask if he wanted to get up and dance with him. Brian had his arm around Kaz’s shoulder. He turned to face her and shouted something into her ear. Kaz smiled and shouted something back. Colin sighed and nudged Stiggy.
“Come on, Stiggy.”
Stiggy looked at Colin, but remained seated until Colin pulled him to his feet and dragged him by the arm into the midst of a few punks who were shuffling around before the band. He let him go, then swung his arms and jumped about in time to the music. Stiggy caught the back of Colin’s hand across his face when he didn’t move out of the way in time, and shoulder-barged Colin in retaliation. Stiggy kicked out his feet and leaped around, flailing his arms at anyone who got too close to him. Colin kept his distance, having seen Stiggy dance lots of times before and not wanting to get any fresh bruises to go with the ones he already had.
A few songs later, Colin’s energy started to sag. He squeezed his way out of the make-shift dance area and returned to his seat. He sat down and lifted the front of his T-shirt to wipe sweat from his face, then took a long drink to cool himself down.
“I can see how you got your bruises now,” Becky shouted. “Do you always dance like that?”
“Yeah. Why, what’s up with it?”
Becky smiled. “Nothing. So what do you think of the band then? Glad you came?”
Colin nodded. “Yeah, they’re pretty good. I wish I’d bought that record now.”
Colin turned to watch the band. Stiggy was still jumping around haphazardly, lurching into the other punks and sending them stumbling away from him with his fists.
The band announced their final song, and three minutes later it was all over. Dancers drifted away from the stage area, bruised and happy. Some headed for the bar, others returned to their seats and made ready to go home. Stiggy went into the toilet.
Becky stood up and approached the stage area, said something to the singer. He bent down to listen, nodded, and reached for the bag of records. He pulled one out and handed it to Becky. Becky paid him and returned to Colin.
“Here you go,” she said, smiling.
“Er … thanks,” Colin said, and took the record from her.
Becky stood before him and swung her shoulders. She smiled. “Buy me a drink?”
“Er … yeah, sure.” Colin looked to the bar, expecting the two skinheads to still be there. But all he saw was a smattering of punks and a few old hippies. “What do you want?”
“Pernod and black.”
* * *
Stiggy lurched out of the toilet and staggered toward Colin’s table. He stumbled into the back of a chair and changed direction, the chair’s occupant turned and glared at him. Stiggy shrugged and carried on walking, then came to a swaying halt. He looked around, seemingly lost. Colin waved to get his attention, Stiggy nodded and veered off toward him. He flopped into his chair and picked up his half-empty glass of cider. He looked over the rim at Colin.
“What?” Stiggy asked.
Colin laughed. “Nothing, mate. We thought you’d gone home.”
Stiggy put down his glass and tapped his chest. “No, not yet,” he said, shaking his head.
Colin laughed. Brian and Becky did too. Stiggy looked at them with a puzzled expression.
“What?” Stiggy repeated.
Colin smiled and shook his head. “Nothing, mate.” He picked up the record and showed it to Stiggy. “Here, look what Becky bought me.”
Stiggy cocked his head to one side as he looked at it. “What is it?”
“A record. It’s by that band that were just on.”
Stiggy blinked and rubbed his eyes with his fists. “Yeah? Can you tape it for me?”
Colin shook his head and put the record back down on the table. He took out a cigarette and lit it. “I can’t mate, me tape recorder’s broke. But I can borrow you it if you want? Then you can tape it for Brian as well.”
Stiggy nodded. “Yeah, cheers.”
<
br /> “I’ll fetch it round to your bedsit tomorrow afternoon, we can do it before we go to Shefferham.”
“Why, what’s in Shefferham?” Becky asked.
“Cockney Upstarts are playing,” Brian said. “We’re all going down there on the train.” He turned to Kaz. “You fancy it? It should be a good one.”
Kaz frowned. “No, my dad won’t let me. Anyway, I don’t like skinhead bands, and I don’t think you should go either. It won’t be safe.”
Brian shook his head. “Nah, there’s loads of us going, we’ll be okay. Anyway they’re not a skinhead band.”
“Do you have to go?” Kaz put her hand on Brian’s chest and stared into his eyes.
Brian shrugged. “Well yeah. They’re from that London, they don’t come down here very often so it’ll probably be the only chance we get to see them.”
Kaz frowned again. She leaned back and folded her arms over her chest, glowering at Brian. Brian looked away and toyed with his half-empty beer glass. Kaz sighed and turned to Becky. “I need a wee. Are you coming, Becky?”
Becky smiled. “Yeah okay.” She turned to Colin. “You’ll wait for us, won’t you?”
Colin nodded. He grinned at Brian and took a drag on his cigarette. “I need a wee wee, are you coming Brian?” he said in a high pitched voice, mimicking Kaz.
Kaz glared at Colin and stamped off, arm in arm with Becky. Brian sniggered, and took a long drink from his beer. He belched at Colin and rose to his feet. “Come on then. But no peeping at me cock.”
“Fuck off,” Colin said, and turned to Stiggy. “You watch our stuff for us?”
Stiggy nodded and picked up the record.
In the toilet, Brian and Colin took up positions either side of the urinal. Colin threw his cigarette end into the middle and it landed in the water with a hiss. He aimed his urine at the cigarette end, pushing it toward Brian. Brian smiled and aimed his penis to push it back, shuffling closer to Colin for a better aim. Colin’s bladder emptied first and his urine turned to dribbles while Brian’s was still in full flow. The cigarette end hit Colin’s end of the urinal and Brian bellowed in victory.
“Cheating bastard,” Colin said, zipping up.
Back in the bar, Stiggy was reading the song titles from the back of the record sleeve when Colin approached him from behind.
“Have they gone?” Colin asked, looking around the pub. Most of the other customers had already left.
“Have what gone?” Stiggy asked without looking up from the record cover.
“Becky and Kaz.”
“Who?”
Colin sighed. “Them birds you’ve been sitting with all night.”
Stiggy shrugged. “Still in the bogs, aren’t they? What time is it anyway?”
Brian looked at his watch. “Half-ten.”
“What?” Stiggy looked up at Brian, wide-eyed. He dropped the record on the table and stood up. “I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow night at the train station.”
After Stiggy rushed out, Brian looked at Colin and shrugged. Colin looked over at the women’s toilet door. “What do you reckon they’re doing in there?”
“How the fuck should I know?” Brian said. “Probably escaped out the window so they don’t need to look at your ugly mug any more.”
“Fuck off.”
Brian laughed. “Well whatever they’re doing they’d better hurry up or we’ll miss the bus home.”
They lit a cigarette each and smoked them. Becky and Kaz were still in the toilet when they stubbed them out. Colin looked at the toilet door and sighed. “Fuck this,” he said, and rose to his feet. He banged on the door with his fist. “Oi Becky, are you in there?”
A muffled voice answered him. “Yeah, won’t be long.”
Colin looked at Brian, who tapped his watch with his index finger. Colin shrugged and pushed open the door.
Becky and Kaz stood before a large mirror, dabbing their faces with balls of cotton wool. Colin watched them from the doorway for a few seconds, then asked what they were doing.
Kaz looked up at Colin’s reflection in the mirror. “Oi get out, you can’t come in here,” she said.
Colin slid through the door and let it close behind him. “Too late, I already did.”
Becky smiled and continued wiping her cheek with a cotton wool ball. Kaz spun to face Colin. “Get out,” she said, pointing at the door.
Colin looked around the spotlessly clean toilet with amazement. The place smelled of flowery perfume instead of shit and piss, and there wasn’t even any graffiti on the walls. He watched Becky’s reflection in the mirror, and when he caught her eye she smiled back at him.
“Are you going to be long?” Colin asked. “Only me and Brian need to go for the bus soon.”
“Come on Becky,” Kaz said. She brushed past Colin and left through the door.
Becky dropped a cotton wool ball into the sink and turned to face Colin. She leaned back against the sink with her hands, her chest pushed out.
“Do we need to go right now?” she asked, looking into Colin’s eyes.
“Yeah,” Colin said. He turned to the door and followed Kaz through it.
* * *
Outside on the street, Brian held his arms out straight before him and moaned, “Urrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhh.” He held his head at an angle, his mouth gaping open, and shambled toward Kaz like a zombie.
Colin put the record inside his leather jacket and tucked a corner into his jeans. He zipped his jacket up and raised his own arms, then lumbered toward Becky.
“They’re coming to get you, Rebecca,” he said in a drawn out, gormless-sounding voice mimicking a character from an old black and white film he had watched on TV.
Becky squealed and grabbed Kaz’s hand. They ran down the street together, twin pairs of monkey boots clattering down the pavement. They kept glancing behind them at Colin and Brian, who shambled after them. Their loud moans drew attention from a group of trendies passing by on the other side of the road.
“SID’S DEAD!” one shouted.
Colin gave them a two-finger salute and continued following Becky, who had stopped with Kaz a short distance away to look at the trendies. Brian lumbered toward Kaz, moaning, and closed his arms around her back. He turned his head and made a chomping sound against her neck. Kaz jerked her head to one side and screamed. Brian jolted away and clamped his hand over his ear.
“Ahhh, I’ve gone deaf,” he cried.
“What?” Colin asked.
“I’ve gone deaf.”
“What?”
“I’ve gone … oh, fuck off, you cunt.”
“Poor Brian,” Kaz said, laughing, and looped her arm through his. They walked down the road together.
Colin glanced at Becky and followed them.
* * *
At the bus station they all sat on a long, wooden bench while they waited for Kaz and Becky’s bus to arrive. The girls lived in a different suburb to Colin and Brian, and their bus was due to arrive a few minutes before their own. Brian and Kaz held hands and chatted away to each other.
Colin sat next to Becky and looked down at his shoes. He wondered if Becky would punch him in the face if he tried to kiss her, and decided it wasn’t worth the risk. He looked up at her. She smiled and brushed against him with her shoulder. Colin bit his lip and looked away.
The bus arrived with a hiss of hydraulic brakes. Becky and Kaz jumped up and walked toward it. Colin and Brian waved goodbye and started to shuffle off to their own bus stop. Becky stepped in front of Colin, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him on the lips. Colin winced when she crushed the cut on his lip, but the surge of emotion coursing through him as he tasted the Pernod, blackcurrant, and cheese and onion crisps on her tongue sent his head reeling. He raised his arms to return the embrace, but as suddenly as she appeared, Becky was gone. She sidestepped his grasping hands and jumped onto the bus after Kaz.
Colin watched as they stomped their way across the floor of the bus to the back seat. He waved idiotically whi
le they blew kisses through the back window as the bus pulled out from the station.
“We should have got on that bus with them,” he said to Brian when the bus disappeared from view.
“It’s the last one, how would we get back home?”
Colin shrugged. He felt like he was walking on air. “What would that matter?”
He was still grinning two hours later, laid in bed, wide awake and bursting with energy while a record played quietly in the background. It was the Cockney Upstarts gig tomorrow night, and he would be seeing Becky in town in the afternoon, so it looked like it was going to be the perfect day.
5 I’m an Upstart
Colin leaned against the side of a Moon Cresta machine in the train station buffet and watched Brian perform a docking manoeuvre to join two spaceships together. Brian jabbed the fire button and waggled the joystick from side to side, his movement becoming more frantic as the ships got closer together. He banked too far to the left, and one of the spaceships exploded in a ball of pixelated flames. Brian swore and thumped his fist down on the control panel.
“All right, Col,” Stiggy said from the doorway.
Colin looked around and raised a hand. Brian continued playing the Moon Cresta game, frowning while he tried to avoid multi-coloured blobs falling diagonally across the screen toward his remaining spaceship. Stiggy looked over Brian’s shoulder, sighed, and sat down at a nearby table.
“I thought you said there was loads of people going?” Stiggy asked.
“They’re not here yet,” Colin said. “Shouldn’t be long though. I think they were going to the football this afternoon, maybe they had extra time or something. The train’s late anyway.”
As if in confirmation, the train station tannoy announced the next train to Shefferham would be approximately twenty-three minutes late.
When Brian finished his game, he and Colin joined Stiggy at the table. They both lit cigarettes. Stiggy frowned and wafted smoke away from his face.
A few minutes later Twiglet and Spazzo arrived, along with another youth dressed in casual gear that Colin didn’t recognise. Colin looked toward the door, and when nobody else entered he asked where Mike was.
Punk and Skinhead Novels Box Set Page 6