The Bare Necessities (Non-Profane Edition)

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The Bare Necessities (Non-Profane Edition) Page 25

by John Harding


  “Paige,” a voice shouted excitedly as she was about to go into her bedroom. “Oh my God, Paige, come here.” Paige scowled at her sister bounding down the hallway, to embrace the girl desperately trying to maintain a degree of stealth.

  “Paige?” Her mother cried and appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just getting a few belongings,” she admitted and Hazel threw herself into the arms of the eighteen year-old. “Bloody hell, Hazel. Careful!” Paige had been propelled against the wall and wiped her face as she pushed her sister from her. “I'm just short on a few things, that's all.”

  “Like what?” Her mother asked, and the frowning face of Robert Simmons appeared behind his wife.

  “That Rees-Montague family done the dirty on you yet?”

  “No,” Paige spat and her eyes narrowed. “And I am staying with Jack's Aunt Lucinda. Ring any bells?”

  Her father tensed, and he shook his head. “No.”

  “Liar!” Paige cried and opened her arms as she walked towards him. “I know you were married to her, and I know what happened when you got divorced.”

  “What?” Hazel asked.

  “Dad was married before Mum,” she told her sister. “And it was to the woman I am staying with. And she was told that unless she divorced Dad she would lose her inheritance. So Dad ran away because he was scared to fight for what he wanted.”

  “Stop this,” Paige's mother cried.

  “No,” Paige yelled. “'Cause it needs saying. Your hatred of the family is what happened to you, twenty-odd years ago. And that has meant you hate Jack and Claire and me and its not fair.”

  “We don't mess with them,” Robert told her. “They are nasty people. They will rip us apart like they've tried to do before.” He gulped and clenched his fists. “I don't want you to have anything more to do with that Rees-Montague lad. Singing naked with Claire is fine but not with that family.”

  Paige snarled. “Oh, 'cause at the hospital, I was causing awkward questions for you at work. And Jeremy getting beat up. So that's all OK now, as long as I am not with Jack.” Paige glared at her father and gestured wildly at him. “This is all about you and your hatred of Lucinda, of Paul, of that family.” Robert shook his head at his daughter's accusations and Paige crossed her arms. “I'm eighteen now,” Paige reminded her parents. “And I know you don't like it, but I won't be giving in. I am not you, Jack is not Lucinda.” Robert took a step towards his daughter, and she backed away. “Twenty years ago you walked out on someone you loved because you were weak. I am not going to make the same mistake.” She gulped and rubbed her eye. “I am not that stupid. And you should be proud of me for that.”

  “They'll destroy you.”

  Paige's eyebrows rose slightly. “Really? They can try. I don't give up. Life's too short to let other people run it for you.” She watched the face of her father change. “Lucinda taught us that. She probably said the same thing to you, but you were too stubborn to listen to her.”

  “That's enough,” Paige's mother cried at her daughter. “Don't talk to your father like that.”

  “When he stops trying to wreck everything I won't have reason to talk to him like that. He's as bad as Paul and his father.” The angry Suzanne Simmons stepped forwards and slapped her daughter on the cheek, causing Paige to squeal.

  “How dare you! Come back here and bring up what happened. You have no idea …”

  Paige pushed her mother away. “I know enough,” Paige yelled and opened the door to the lounge, stopping in her room to grab some underwear. “Paige, you're not going again, are you?” Hazel begged, and Paige turned to hug her sister.

  “I'll be back, soon,” Paige tearfully promised. “Real soon. But I can't stay here.”

  “But Mum and Dad didn't mean it,” Hazel cried but Paige just shook her head.

  “She did,” Paige told her. “And I meant what I said too. They are weak.”

  * * * * *

  Paul stood in the doorway of his sister's house, and she shook her head. “No, I am not letting you in,” she said firmly. “Not until you embrace Jack's little project.”

  “You're drunk,” he snapped at the woman with glazed eyes and a glass of wine in her hand. “You need help. Now I want to see my son.”

  “Do one,” Lucinda cried and finished her drink.

  “You always used to stay at my house whenever you needed to.”

  “So,” Lucinda muttered. “I came into your house and caused no trouble. You are going to shout at your son and my guests, and I don't want it.”

  “Well I want to talk to him,” Paul shouted. “I'm his father. It's my right.”

  “You give him any ultimatum and you're in trouble,” Lucinda warned him. “Go around to the back, I'll send him out.”

  “What? I am not …”

  “Shut up Paul. You may have been able to bully me twenty years ago but not now. Paige and Jack are doing what I should have done.” Her eyes narrowed, and she pointed towards the back gate. She slammed the door angrily and walked to the lounge. “Your father is here and wants a word.” Jack groaned, and she shrugged. “Go talk to him. Maybe he might listen to you. I doubt it.”

  “Yeah,” Jack muttered and got up from the couch.

  “Hey, before you go out,” Lucinda called to her nephew and stopped him at the door. She took a tall glass from the sideboard, and filled it full of whiskey from the cabinet. “He'll need it,” she told him and unlocked the back door. “If you are honest, he will. I'm relying on you.”

  The angry face of Paul was waiting for Jack on the little bench in the garden, and he called him over. “Lucinda said you would need this,” Jack muttered and offered his father the large glass of spirit. He snorted and took a sip.

  “This has to stop,” Paul barked angrily. “And I know you think that it is all fine and dandy, but I ask you, how many bands are still going now and making money that were making money forty years ago. Practically none. This isn't a career, and it won't end well.”

  “I am not stopping. I like being part of a band. We played to Wembley. We opened for Flee Wilson. We are doing so well. Don't you find that exciting?”

  “No,” he shouted and took another gulp of the whisky. “It's no future. Do you think we paid fifteen thousand pounds a year to send you to one of the best schools in London for you to go prancing around naked on stage?”

  “No,” Jack admitted. “But Aunty Lucinda …”

  “Oh stuff Lucinda. She's an alcoholic.” He held out the whisky and snorted before taking another sip. “What the hell does she know?”

  “She told me that she was once happy and let herself get railroaded into doing something she didn't want to do. And I am not like that. She says if you love me, truly love me, you will support me.”

  Paul spluttered and banged his fist on the bench. “Your mother and I do love you which is why we don't want to see you throw your life away.”

  “But I am not. I am doing my own thing. You always said I was intelligent so just see that I have made a choice, and it is my choice. You can't change that.”

  Paul took a few deep breaths and groaned. “Well this is my choice,” he told him. “Unless you leave that band by this time next week I shall write you out of my will.” He gulped and downed the whisky, throwing the glass into the garden. “I will not tolerate this. This madness has gone on for long enough. I expect you at work a week on Monday.”

  Jack looked at him stunned. “But …”

  Paul shook his head. “And I will stop paying for anything I pay for. What? You think Lucinda will support you?”

  “I expect our music to support me.” Paul snorted. “I know what granddad did to Aunty Lucinda and I am not making the same mistake in giving in.”

  “Lucinda made a mistake and corrected it. I expect the same from you.”

  “I won't be giving in. This is my life.”

  “I am not joking,” Paul shouted. “The company is worth millions. If you want to walk away from your
family fortune, go ahead. But I will not be relenting. My will, it will be changed. I do not want you getting involved with that Simmons girl.”

  Jack gulped and got up from the bench. “This conversation is over,” he told his father firmly and picked up the empty glass that lay abandoned on the grass. He took a deep breath. “And Paige and Claire are my friends. They will stay so. And one day, I hope Paige and I might be more than just friends so you better get used to it.” He turned and walked up the garden path with his father shouting angrily after him. “This conversation is over,” he repeated, and opened the back door and placed the empty glass on the table, before closing the door with a slam. “He told me what your father told you,” he said to his aunt. “I'll lose my inheritance.”

  “He did what?” Lucinda asked Jack.

  “He said that I need to cut ties in the next seven days or he will write me out of his will.”

  “The bastard,” Lucinda shouted and looked at her brother walking out of her garden.

  “Please don't tell Paige or Claire,” Jack begged. “It's my problem, not their's.”

  “I won't,” Lucinda promised and picked up the telephone with a smile. “Hello, is that the Police?” Lucinda asked. “Yes, I'd like to report a drink-driver. He has is just leaving my house in Purley and is driving to Barton Drive in Kingswood in a black BMW. Yes, he's all over the road.” She looked at the shocked teenager in front of her and shrugged as she put the phone down. “What? Two can be underhand.”

  “But, that's mean,” Jack told her, and Lucinda smiled.

  “Yeah, I know. Very unclassy. I think I learned that from my nephew.”

  * * * * *

  “Hey Claire,” Lucinda called and passed her a glass of wine. “You OK?”

  “Yeah,” Claire muttered morosely and Lucinda closed the door to her lounge.

  “Just that since you've moved in, you've been quiet. Everything OK?” Lucinda took a swig from her own glass of alcoholic beverage and then sighed. “I can see an unhappy teenager from a mile off.”

  “It's Mum,” Claire muttered. “Jack's father has made an allegation against her that he won't withdraw unless I stop Jack being in the band.”

  Lucinda groaned. “The twat,” she cried and shook her head. Claire sniffed and put her head in her hands, sobbing gently.

  “Mum says she will go to prison and it caused a fight between us, and I don't know what to do for the best. It's not fair and it's all my fault.”

  Lucinda hummed and her eyes focused on the television. “I'll sort,” she promised and picked up the telephone on the coffee table.

  “No, Lucinda. It's …”

  “It's nothing,” Lucinda replied. “Taunting Paul is one of my favourite hobbies at the moment. In between masturbation and drinking.”

  Claire blushed as she laughed involuntarily and Lucinda dialled her brother who answered abruptly. “Ahh, dear big brother,” the flamboyant aunt cried. “I have some news for you.” She waited for Paul to complain and then gleefully continued. “I just heard what you are doing to Teri Baynes, and I thought that it was so nasty, I had no alternative but to rush to the factory tomorrow morning. And I am going to be doing a proper clear-out and … pardon?”

  She rolled her eyes as Paul ranted and Claire held her breath. “What's that? I really don't like language like that. And yes I can keep making that threat because I don't mind doing it. I've done it before for six months and I will do it again.” She coughed and looked at Claire. “That's one offer, but what about the injury to feelings, lost wages and stress.” She laughed and blew air through her teeth. “Higher. And again. Come on Paul, make some effort. OK, let me check with my assistant.”

  Claire giggled as Lucinda put the phone to her shoulder and whispered to Claire. “He said he will withdraw the charges and pay your mother ten thousands pounds to settle the dispute.”

  Claire's face brightened and Lucinda cackled. “She says twelve and she will get me so drunk tonight I won't remember I got a fifty percent share in the factory for a week!” Lucinda giggled and sighed. “Excellent. I'll see you soon then, big brother. Make sure that cheque goes in the post tomorrow.” Lucinda nodded at Claire as she pressed a button on the phone and shrugged. “Easy really.”

  Claire leapt up from the chair and put her arms around the scheming woman. “Thank you. Thank you, so much.”

  “You're welcome,” Lucinda cried. “You should have just told me. I can't help you if you keep secrets.”

  “No,” Claire muttered. “Sorry. I just didn't want Jack to know.”

  “That was probably wise. But you need to keep your end of the bargain now. Jack and Paige are in their room watching a film and I have a dozen drinking games to play with someone.”

  Claire hummed and nodded. “Sure.”

  “Go ring your mother first and I'll set 'em up,” Lucinda cried. “And you can tell me about that belly button piercing you got. I want one,” she added. “And I don't think Jack will approve.”

  “No,” Claire murmured as she smiled. “And thanks. Really.”

  Lucinda blushed. “I'm sorry about my brother. He thinks he knows best, but he really doesn't. Jack takes after me, not his father, I'm glad to say.” She sighed and blinked. “Go on, ring your Mum and let's play some games. It's called Truth, Drink and Dare! It's brilliant. Last one to get a liver transplant is a sissy!”

  * * * * *

  “Paige,” Jack murmured warmly. “Paige, Paige. Oh for the love of ... Paige. Wake up.” The naked girl stretched in the bed and slowly opened her eyes to see her bandmate holding a warm cup of tea and shaking her gently.

  “Ahhh,” Paige cried. “Aggghhhh, what the hell do you want?”

  “Paige … wake up. Come downstairs. We are in the papers.”

  “We are always in the papers at the moment.” She wiped her eyes and looked across at the alarm clock. “And it's eight in the morning. I don't get up at eight in the morning.”

  “Paige, come downstairs. This isn't good.”

  Paige snorted and adjusted herself in the warm bed. “Be down in a minute.” She snarled at Jack as he left the room and looked up at the ceiling before grabbing her dressing gown and putting it over her shoulder.

  The half-naked Paige sauntered into the dining room where the worried faces of Claire, Lucinda and Jack looked back at her. “What's up?”

  Jack held out a double-page spread entitled “The Bare Necessities: The Naked Truth” and slid it across the table.

  “Since I've had world-famous megastars staying with me,” Lucinda said with a smile. “I've had all the papers delivered. Greg and Andre thought it would be a good idea.”

  “When did you speak to Greg and Andre?” Jack asked as he turned to face her.

  “Yesterday. He said you three are an editor's wet dream. Three teenagers, all with great bodies performing naked, making popular music and getting into an argument with a Christian pressure group. It's got everything – nudity, talent, popularity and conflict. Plus the love interests. Ahh, they must reckon all their Christmases have come at once!”

  Paige squinted and sat down. “They have just done a piece about our backgrounds and families. What new stuff is there? And where the hell did they get that family picture from?”

  Jack shrugged. “It's journos ain't it.”

  Paige giggled. “They reckon we know each other through Lucinda's first marriage.” She looked up at their host, and she smirked. “Can't believe you didn't tell us about that.”

  “It's awkward,” the woman replied.

  “Twelve divorces, you should know how to handle exes by now,” Jack told her jokingly, but Paige interrupted the taunting.

  “Oh my God, Claire, were you really suspended for stabbing someone with a compass?”

  Claire muttered. “When I was eleven. And were you really arrested and cautioned for theft at thirteen?”

  Paige muttered. “Well, yes, sort of.” Her eyes continued to read the page, and there was a noise at the door. Lucinda
left the room as Paige smiled. “Oh my God, my brother actually is gay. Listen to this,” she said. “It is a common knowledge that Jeremy Simmons, fourteen year-old brother of Paige is gay and currently has a boyfriend in school friend Liam. Although Paige claimed he wasn't at the start of one of her concerts, it is clear that she knew and was trying to protect him.” Paige looked up and tapped the table. “How can it be common knowledge when his own sister didn't even know?”

  Claire shrugged. “Maybe … maybe it was your announcement at trying to get back at the attackers that was the clue.”

 

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