by John Harding
“Yeah. Them.”
“They are outside Wembley not … why have two?”
“I don't know but the Police are here and they have told us to stay inside while they try and break it up, but it's been going on for an hour now so we won't make it.”
Paige snorted. “Right. I'm not having that.”
“Paige. It's fine,” the voice of her mother cried. “You are doing another concert in a couple of days time. We'll see you then. This is just because of the silly stunt you did in Southend.”
“No. I don't like them going for my family. They can do one if they think that's OK. I'm …”
“Paige, don't do anything silly.” Her mother begged as Claire gestured towards Paige with a tap of her wrist.
“I gotta go. We're due on stage. I'll catch up with you soon.”
“Paige …” Her mother cried, but her daughter was gone.
The three of them held hands as the compère spoke on stage, and they waited patiently. They had been waiting in the wings for five minutes and Paige squeezed both her friend's hands. “You OK?” Jack asked, and she nodded.
“It's scary,” she told him. “I feel like I'm on the top of a whopping big rollercoaster. I know it's going to be scary, fun and incredible at the same time.”
“Hey,” Jack told her. “We've done this loads of times before. It's our music, we'll just follow your lead. We haven't done a bad gig.”
“Always time for a first,” she muttered. Jack gestured to her for a hug, and he squeezed her tight. She kissed him on the cheek and then embraced Claire.
Paige was deafened by the roar from the crowd as they strode onto the stage, looking more confident than they felt. She waved her hands and beamed as lightbulbs flashed around her and she picked up the microphone in the centre of the stage.
She turned around to display her bare ass to the crowd as she watched Jack and Claire get settled and then turned to face the audience. “Nice ass,” a lone voice cried. “And a nice rack.”
“Thank you,” Paige said to laughter in the front row. “And nice coat.” She shrugged, and there was some commotion at the end of the stage. She turned as a young woman, dressed in shorts and T-shirt squirmed past the security guards and ran onto the stage, aiming to hit Paige.
Paige ducked, and the woman screeched. “This is an outrage. You are all going to hell. Paige Simmons will be tortured by the devil himself. This is depravity. This is an outrage.” The woman lurched towards Paige again, but the lead singer was able to subdue her with a well aimed blow to the stomach that caused a large cheer to come from the audience. She dropped the microphone and went to strike the protester again when the security guards pounced, and stopped her.
“This is Christian Outrage,” Paige shouted to the crowd. “My family – my brother, sister, mother and father – can't be here tonight because this bunch of religious nutters have attacked our family home. They are locked inside their home because these lowlifes hate me. Not my family, but me. So they go after my family.” Paige shouted and picked up the microphone from the floor.
“They preach hate,” Paige yelled and opened her arms. “Outside you saw them as you came in. They don't understand naturism, and they don't understand me, so they do nothing but hate us and attack us.”
“You are going to hell,” the woman shouted as she was led away. “This is the work of Satan.”
“I don't care about you, or Satan or anything about you,” Paige yelled. “To Christian Outrage – the bunch of nutters – I dedicate this song to you.” She nodded towards Jack and Claire. “Even My Dog Wants You Dead.”
* * * * *
“That's on your best behaviour?” Andre shouted at Paige. “You are the first item of every news bulletin, and probably on Page 1 of every newspaper. And Page 3, is that what you want?”
“Well Flee didn't mind. She quite liked it. She is so awesome,” Paige crooned. “Ahhh … she is just so … chilled. I want to be like her.”
“Yes, I would quite like you to be like her too. And I know you have a lot of anger in you Paige, but seriously, if you want to make it to the top, you need to leave some of this teenage aggression behind.”
“Well Flee thought it great,” Paige snapped.
“You have got her show more publicity than she could ever imagine.”
“Yeah … and?”
“Paige. You are playing Sue Garratt's game. She is using you to get publicity for her cause.”
“But … she's attacked my family,” the angry girl shouted. “She's wound me up. I am not having that.”
“She's winning,” Andre said calmly. “I see it all the time. She wanted a reaction, and you gave her one.”
“She'll be getting a lot more if she does it again,” Paige yelled back at him. “I'll …”
“No,” Andre shouted. “Just listen. It's not going to get better while you are getting angry. She's … well, you are doing everything she wants you to.” He looked at Claire who slipped her hand into his and squeezed it.
“We'll not do anything else,” Claire promised. “We'll calm down.”
“Just please do.” His eyes met Claire's who smiled at him. “But apart from that, it was a great set. Just tomorrow, go and do whatever makes you calm. Flee has one more Wembley date and I can't face another day of angry Paige.”
Paige seethed and kicked a chair across the room. “I'll take her out somewhere,” Jack promised Claire and Andre in a quiet voice. “She'll be fine in a couple of days time.”
* * * * *
Paige rolled her ball down the bowling alley and turned triumphantly to her companion. “Strike!”
“Lucky,” Jack moaned and looked up at the board. He threw his hands onto the bench and cried out. “That's the second time you've beaten me on the last roll,” he complained and Paige slipped her bowling shoes off.
“So that's two games to nil,” she teased and rubbed her hands. “How good am I?”
“Singing, tent assembly, bowling. Is there no end to your talents?” Paige laughed at his coltish chortling, and he slid his feet into his trainers. “You hungry?”
“I'm starving,” Paige moaned and took Jack's hand as they walked back across the bowling alley and deposited their shoes at the counter. She yawned and apologised.
“Hey,” a voice called and they turned to face a young group of teenagers. “Can we have an autograph?”
“Us?”
“Yeah,” they cried and pulled out pens. Paige looked at Jack, and they signed T-shirts, white shorts, and Jack was asked to sign one of the girl's rear end.
Paige giggled as he signed the teenage girl's bare bottom, and the group of fans fired a multitude of questions at the two members of their favourite band which Paige did her best to answer. “Come on,” Jack gestured and waved at the small group of teenagers. “We gotta go.”
“Why?”
“Because one of them will put a picture of the autograph on the 'net and we'll be inundated.”
“That's a bit crazy,” Paige shouted in response, but they ran down the street and went into a small café. “Is this safe?” Paige asked and checked under the table jokingly. “I don't see anyone.”
“It's not funny,” Jack moaned. “I still want a private life. Or how can I take out women for a quiet night out?”
Paige sniggered. “Yeah. Like that's gonna happen! Poor little Jack needs some groupies instead!”
“No. I didn't say that,” he replied and picked up the menu and told Paige to pick what she wanted to eat.
Paige made her selection and went up to order, but Jack pulled her back so he could pay for, and order, their meals. Paige groaned, but he returned with a wooden spoon and a giant number on it. “The waitress asked could she take a photo of us with her. And I said yes,” Jack told her.
Paige shook her head, but the young waitress was overexcited when she brought two coffees to the table. “Thank you,” the young lady blurted. “I so love your songs, they are so … deep. And the guitar solos are just
crazy and … oh , you haven't split up have you. Where's Claire?”
“Claire is not with us, but we haven't split up,” Paige answered and the waitress hovered. “Excuse me,” Paige called to a couple on a neighbouring table. “Would you mind taking a picture?”
“Oh yeah, right,” the uniformed woman muttered and passed her mobile phone to the couple, and then crouched down in front of them, allowing Paige and Jack to lean onto the table.
“See what I mean,” Jack said the moment the waitress had left. “I can hardly take a girl out on a date, knowing that most of the time I would be paying attention to other people.” Paige shrugged.
“Maybe you need to find someone who knows what's like. Someone who would be understanding.”
“Someone like …” Jack stopped as Paige reached for her phone.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “It's Hazel.” She pressed the button. “What is it? I'm with Jack having lunch.”
“Paige!” The stressed voice cried. “It's Jeremy. He's been beaten up, and we are going to the hospital.”
“Right, I'll be right with you.”
Chapter XX
Paul straightened his tie and coughed. He looked around the small conference venue and sat down at the front of a table. Sue Garratt passed him and sat down, and she adjusted the microphone in front of Paul.
“Just as we discussed,” the elderly woman suggested as she whispered in his ear. Paul nodded, and tapped the table, before taking a gulp of water.
He was not used to being in front of so many cameras and microphones, and there were hundreds of people in the room. Behind him was a board with Christian Outrage's logo, and around him were prominent members of the action group.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” their press officer cried and clapped her hands together to get silence in the room. “Paul Rees-Montague, father of Jack Rees-Montague, and Sue Garratt, founder and leader of Christian Outrage would like to make a statement. There will be time for questions at the end.”
Sue furrowed her brow and cleared her throat. “Thank you Jenny. Yes, we have called this press conference in response to the actions yesterday of the music band The Bare Necessities and … er … their continuing war against morality and the Christian faith.”
Paul nodded as Sue spoke. She was authoritative and clear, looking directly at the camera as she spoke and gestured warmly towards Paul. “Jack's father is distraught. He is devastated that his son, his only son, would get involved with two of the nastiest elements of our society. Who care not, for other people's beliefs and who wish to spread their message of hate and immorality throughout our society.”
Sue ranted about the naked protest at her church, Paige's uninvited appearance on Peter Moran's radio show and their arrest a few days previous while equating their performances as worthy of Satan.
“Mark Riordan, The Mirror. If you could say anything to your son, what would it be?” Paul was asked, and all eyes turned to the nervous father sat alongside Sue Garratt.
Paul sighed and rested his elbows on the table, in front of one of the microphones. “I'd tell him to come home. I'd tell him to stop all this silliness and to stop breaking the law. He will end up in prison, and it's just 'cause he is chasing the two girls. They are leading him on. They are bad influences. I mean, interrupting a church service, that's out of order. He needs to stop.”
“And that is why Christian Outrage is calling on everyone to boycott their shows, their records, their tatty merchandise and their website. They only exist because people have given them attention. So a message to all Christians, boycott them.”
Paul nodded, and a stray hand emerged from the end of the room. “Lucinda, Lucinda Rees-Montague. Friend of The Bare Necessities and sister of Paul. I'm writing for their website. What are your thoughts on members of your terrorist cell, rioting outside the young girl's house, frightening the life out of her family and another trying to attack her on stage? That doesn't sound all that Christian, does it?”
Lucinda looked at two members of the security staff move in behind her as Sue Garratt stuttered over the question. “We are not bad people here …”
“Most people think you are,” Lucinda interrupted and smirked. “Most people think that attacking the family home containing minors to be the work of truly evil people. And my brother there, talking with you, he's done some evil things in the past. Surprised you want to share a platform with the dishonest little twat.” There was a gasp as Lucinda spoke.
“You're the one leading my son astray,” Paul shouted and stood up. “Arrest that woman.”
“I'm not leading Jack astray,” Lucinda snapped derisively. “That's Paige's job.” The journalist pencils scribbled down the shouting match as Lucinda felt her arm get grabbed from behind.
“Get out!” Sue shouted. “This is an outrage.”
Lucinda shook her head. “Once you've answered the question. Do you think attacking children is good?”
“Get her out, please. Trouble-maker.” The figure of Jenny, Christian Outrage's PR lady, watched as Lucinda was dragged out of the small venue, kicking and screaming before the door was locked and Sue apologised.
Irrespective of what Sue had said, Lucinda's appearance and admission that Paige was interested in Jack, would be the only story from their news conference.
* * * * *
“See what you've done,” the angry face of her father shouted at Paige as she walked into the private room.
“What have I done?” Paige asked and looked at Hazel and her mother, who were averting their eyes.
“This,” he shouted and pointed towards Jeremy lay on the bed. Jeremy's face was swollen and red. He had a number of stitches on the side of his face, and his eyesocket was black and blue.
“This is nothing to do with me,” the red-headed teenager shouted. “What the hell happened?”
“This has everything to do with you,” he yelled, his veins throbbing in his face. He glared at his daughter. “What have I told you about our naturism, it is not something you shout about. People don't understand.”
“Well I'm … This better not be Christian Outrage. Or else I am getting baseball bats and explosives.”
“No!” He yelled. “This is not Christian Outrage. This is how some people react to naturism. And this stops. Now.”
“I won't be forced to stop,” Paige replied and crossed her arms. “This is my life, and if this isn't Christian Outrage or Peter Moran, then this attack has nothing to do with me. But I will …”
“Tell her.” Jeremy bit his lip and his father had to force him to recount the story he had only recently divulged.
“Some lads at school have been picking on me since you went public. Saying you were a slut, and that we were weird for going naked. And …”
“And what?” A shocked Paige asked. “What?”
“That I must be gay for going on such holidays.”
“Yeah, spend the day sitting around looking at naked girls. That sounds well gay,” Paige replied sanctimoniously. “But what has you going naked got to do with this?”
“They found me this morning and beat me up. Three of them.”
Paige played with her hair as she gulped and thought for a moment. “Names. I want names.”
“It doesn't matter.”
“I want names,” Paige demanded. Jeremy hesitated, and Paige looked at him. “This will not go unpunished.”
Jeremy hummed as Paige's eyes bored into him. “Leroy, Gavin and Dan,” he admitted and buried his face in his hands before tearing them away as he came into contact with his bruises.
“Paige darling,” her mother muttered. “Could we, you know, tone it down a bit. I've had people come into the shop and talk 'bout it. You're upsetting church folk as well and it's making it difficult for us. I know you like controversy and I bet your agent is happy with you, but just tone it down, please?”
“I thought you were proud,” Paige shouted with tears in her eyes.
“We are dear but …”
&nbs
p; “But you don't want me to do it?” Paige asked her mother but her father responded.
“Not naked, no. Time and place, dear.” He sighed. “I've had half my factory come up and tell me that they've seen my daughter in the buff. You think I want to hear that? You think any father wants to hear that? Hear what they want to do with you.” Paige gulped.
“It's not about sex.”
“Yes, I know that, but they don't. And this is causing problems for Jeremy, here.”
“I am not stopping,” Paige told him. “I like it too much, and I'm not hurting anyone.” Her eyes narrowed as her father pointed to the bed. “I am not responsible for this.”