'A spankingly good beer'. Hmmm.
Veda stared at the board. Old Sheepshagger? Bishop's Buttock? What to choose.
YES LOVE? roared the barman as he set a foaming pint on the counter.
ER.... She pointed to a bottled lager in the fridge.
GOLDEN FLEECE, he yelled. Two pounds twenty.
The bottle's label stated that GOLDEN FLEECE was a
LEGEND AMONG BEERS
and bore a picture of the poor sheep's skin stretched out on the grass.
Hey ho. She leaned her back against the bar and surveyed the scene.
The Jacquard Club. Beloved of jazzos, punkoes, moshoes, freakos and deakos. Top venue for local bands. Black, orange and purple predominant colours. Floor hard and black. Club always too full for dancing, although that never stops people trying, hence number of fights per evening, for which Jacquard is notorious (and which may account for its popularity). Lights too bright, music too loud, Veda (perhaps) is getting too old. The Jacquard Club is (possibly) named after-
Jacquard, Joseph Marie (1752-1834), from Lyons, France. Invented the Jacquard loom, which facilitated the weaving of designs in fabric.
KKKRASSSSHHHHHHHHH!
Ting.
"Hullo, good evening, and welcome." The voice sounded as though the larynx had been crushed through a coffee grinder. "We are the Timmy Thomas Band. And this is Jaune. Part Six".
The crowd went wild. Bishop's Buttock and Sheepshagger soaked into beermats as punters pounded their tables.
Veda peered through the gloom. She could barely see the band. Just as well, maybe. "Hi, Veda," the answer-phone had chirruped. "Hope the maps pointed you in the right direction ho ho. New assignment. Jazz group playing the Jacquard today. You'll go and review, won't you? Could be important." Oh bollocks, she'd thought.
Jazz. n. 1. music of black US origin, characterised by syncopated rhythms and solo and group improvisations; 2. sl. rigmarole (as in "all that jazz") 3. pretentious, tuneless bollocks
She hated jazz.
BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAST (went a trombone)
BOO WAAA waaa WAA waaaaa BOOOOOO (a sax (muted))
plinky plinkyplinky
plinky plinky plinky
plinky plinky
plinkyplinky
plinkyPLONNNNNNNNNK
(went a piano).
t-t-t t-t-t t-t-t t-t-t t-t-t t-t-t t-t-t t-t-t t-t-t (hi-hat)
BOOMBUMDA BOOMBUMDA BOOMBUMDA (bass drum)
Forty-two seconds later, the crowd CHEEEEEEEERED, the sound like a waterfall crashing on rocks several hundred metres beneath.
"Grayd," growled the voice. "Truly grayd. Ta very much. That's an oldie, this is a newie. It's from our latest album, Joshing with Josh."
Clapclapclapclapclapclapclapclapwhiiiistlewhoopclap
"Cheers, thanksalot - we call it - Untidled jamifyoulike - yeah."
Whoopwhoopwhoopwhoop
tingatingatingatingatingatingaTANg!
This time
the trombone went boowaa, boowaa,
and the sax went pooppoop pooppoop,
and the drummer went psht psht psht psht
and the piano went plinkyplonk CRASH, plinkyplonk DUNGGplinkyplonk plonk plo nk
Veda returned to the bar and yelled for another "G smash crash bang ce". An earnest young man wearing red-rimmed owl-eye spectacles was waving his hand and screaming for service. He too was drowned out by the "Untidled" jam. He was wearing a battered black leather jacket and a white T-shirt bearing the black outline of a Harley Davidson. His blue-black hair, casually parted, flopped untidily over his face. He had a single gold earring and was clutching a newspaper and a CD. He sensed Veda watching him and flashed her a grin. There was a streak of pink over his cheekbones. Very loud, he mouthed. She nodded agreement. As the gravel-voiced compère announced a new number, she decided that the young man nursing the Sheepshagger must be lonely (the effect of two bottles of Golden Fleece) and tried to make light conversation but she could not be heard. The young man nodded towards a green neon sign that read
FIRE EXIT
and they scrummaged towards the space where she learned in shouted bursts that the young man was called Jools (or Jules or Jewels), that he was a student and that he liked the cacophony. He moved his head in time to the noise and punctuated his sentences with depressingly enthusiastic "Yeahs", "Cools" and "Yowzers".
In the break, whilst the band downed pints of Skull Crusher, Sheeeeepshaaaager and Nag, and smoked filthy-smelling cigarettes, Jules and Veda got to know each other better.
"Yeah," he said. "Jools. Or Jules. Or Jewels. All the same to me."
"Short for Julian?" Veda supplied.
"Good grief no. Of course not. It's short for Julep," said Julep, "As in mint. What kind of stupid, dumbass name is Julian?"
Veda laughed heartily until she realised he was serious. To cover her sudden embarrassment, she took the CD from his fingers with a cheery "What have you got there then?" It was Joshing with Josh by the Timmy Thomas Quartet, the new disc Ol' Gravelly Voice had been plugging. She glanced at the track-listing-
1Untitled Jam (if you like)
"They've just played that," said Juuls. "Another drink? Before the second set?"
Veda nodded, "Whatever you think," and turned her attention back to Joshing with Josh.
2.Grey Mood No. J
3.Bird in a cage (The Jackdaw Squawks)
4.Schlepping to Jericho
5.Beanie with the Bean King
6.Joshing with Josh
Jools returned with two pints of something resembling wood-varnish and brushed her blouse with the back of his hand as he passed. Oh ho.
"Jeffery's Revenge," he grinned. "Drink it slowly. It lives up to its name."
Veda had a sudden urge for the toilet. "I won't be long," she said.
J. Page 7