Her mother bit her lip. “That's good,” she told her. “Really good.”
“What?” Claire asked. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” her mother told her, and Claire pushed her away to stare at her in the eye. “OK. I lost my job because of you and Jack going out.”
“What? There is no me and Jack. Paul said something 'bout this when he came to see Jack, what's me got to do with it?”
Teri Baynes groaned. “Because Paul and Anna think you led Jack into this and that he is running around naked because of you.”
“But that's not true,” Claire snarled. “That's totally not true. It was more Paige than me.”
“I know, look, it doesn't matter. I've had some interviews but …”
“But what?”
“Well Paul told one family who offered me a job that I had been sacked for stealing and …”
“The little cunt,” Claire exclaimed and then had to apologise for her language. “This isn't on.” Claire picked up her phone and dialled a number.
“Don't,” her mother begged. “Now that you are back it should be better.”
Claire hummed. “We aren't splitting up,” Claire told. “This is just the beginning.”
“Claire, please,” Teri pleaded, but Claire put the phone to her ear to talk to Jack.
* * * * *
The figure of Suzanne Simmons loomed over Paige, and she bit her lip. “Hi Mum.”
“Come here,” she cried and hugged her daughter with tears in her eyes. “We're so proud of you.”
“You don't … you don't … care about it?”
She smiled and shook her head. “No, I don't care. But Dad. Well Dad's not quite so happy.”
“No?”
“Well,” she hesitated. “He always keeps his naturism a bit secret and now he can't. Everyone knows and he's had some awkward questions.”
“Where is he?”
“He is helping with the repairs at the clubhouse. Staying for a couple of nights.” Paige sighed.
“I don't want him to be angry with me,” she said eventually, and her mother squeezed her again.
“I think you are doing so well. And did you hear that bloody guy on the radio.”
“Yeah,” Paige muttered. “I am going to deal with him, later.” Paige sat down and had lunch with her mother, brother and sister, before getting her coat. “I'll be two hours, or thereabouts,” she said. “Just got someone to see. On the radio.”
“Paige,” her mother warned. “Don't do anything stupid.”
“I won't,” Paige promised. “But listen to Peter Moran's show. It might get interesting.”
“I doubt it,” her mother replied and shook her head. “It never does.”
“Well this time, it might,” Paige suggested. “Maybe. Maybe they might have an interesting guest.”
Her mother's eyes narrowed as her daughter rose from the dining table. “I want to come,” Hazel asked, and she picked her coat from the rack. “I want to.”
Paige objected – she was certain she would be arrested – but Hazel was determined and the two of them walked down the road to the little station for trains to London.
Paige settled on the seat of the empty train and looked around her. “Used to being recognised?” Hazel asked. “Autograph-hunters?”
“I have not given a single autograph for days,” Paige told her. “Not a single one. Don't know what to read into that!” Hazel smiled. “I also don't know what to make of the way you are so happy after I left to go around the country?”
Hazel shrugged. “I dunno.” She pursed her lips together. “All my friends are like, wow, your sister's a big star. And I …”
“And you what?”
“I keep on being asked about you. 'Bout you doing all this. Well it's good 'cause you are being yourself and enjoying yourself and not doing what other people want. Proper Girl Power not just silly magazine hype.”
“Yeah, I know,” Paige replied. “I've never done what other people have told me to.”
“No. You have never have! And you don't seem to get pressure like me. I seem to get so much crap off people. And I just couldn't deal with me.”
Paige sucked in air through her teeth and sniffed. “You've never told me why you did, what you did.”
Hazel swept her hair behind her ears and rubbed her nose. “I don't know. I just felt so alone, so trapped, so on my own. And it was a way out. I didn't want to do what people tried to force me to do. It was … well you don't care what people think of you, do you?”
“Hell no,” Paige replied with a smile. “And I keep trying to get you to do the same.”
Hazel snorted and the two sisters got to talk as their train speared its way through South London before the two sisters got off at the main station. “You don't have to come,” Paige told her, but Hazel just giggled.
“I wanna see this. I think I know what you are going to do.”
Paige strode into the big atrium of the radio station and walked past the receptionist. “Excuse me!” The young lady called, but Paige ignored her and caught the door to the stairs as someone walked out of it. She looked behind her to see the smiling face of Hazel running to keep up. The two sisters walked up three storeys and pushed open a door entitled “Radio London Studio 4.”
A couple of people sat with headphones on their ears, and Paige looked through a glass window at the balding figure of Peter Moran. “Wait here,” Paige told her sister firmly.
“What's this?” The two people cried. “Who are you? You can't go in there.”
Paige heard a noise behind her, but ignored it and pushed open the door where the talk show host was talking and sat down next to him. He froze. “… and I'm sorry listeners, but we have quite a bit of a shock here. We have some intruders and …”
Paige raised her eyebrows and picked up headphones abandoned on the console in front of her. “You've been speaking about me, I think it's only fair I'm given a chance to defend myself.” She couldn't hear her voice come through the headphones as the microphone next to her was not live. “Turn my mike on.” He hesitated, and she repeated her demands. “Or are you too scared of talking to me.”
“No,” he muttered and waved at two people in the booth through the window and a jingle appeared through her headphones. “Get out. This is an outrage.”
“No,” Paige shouted and he gestured towards the people in the booth. “I want to answer some of your criticisms. This show is sold all over the country.” He clicked his fingers and pointed at Paige as the jingle came to an end.
“I am sorry to report listeners that we still have an intruder in the studio who is refusing to leave and has been threatening me.”
“I have not,” shouted Paige into Peter's microphone. “I want to know …”
“I apologise for this interruption, and we will try and restore some calmness to the studio as soon as possible.” Paige leant over and spoke into Peter's microphone.
“This is Paige Simmons, from The Bare Necessities, and I am here to answer some of the lies that this man has been saying about us and is too afraid of debate, he won't turn my microphone on.”
“That's not true,” Peter moaned. “It's …”
“Well turn it on,” Paige demanded and crossed her arms. “I am not abusive, or threatening. Just want to reply to some of the silliness, that's all.” Paige looked across and saw a man burst into the studio and grab hold of Hazel. “And can you please tell your oversized brutes to stop hitting my sixteen year-old sister? Leave her alone, this is assault, this is a disgrace. We came here to talk to you about the lies you keep spouting.”
There was a moment's hesitation as Peter gestured to his helpers on the other side of the glass and Hazel was freed from the man's clutches.
“Good,” Paige snapped. “Before you start, I would like to say, that I think calling an ex-anorexic girl who is perfectly averagely sized, she's a size eight by the way … calling her fat, is heartless and cruel. There is nothing wrong with Claire or
Claire's figure, and your comments on it were hurtful and unfair,” Paige told him, reciting the line she had been working on all morning. “It's bang out of order.”
“She is not a size eight, love,” Peter Moran joked, but Paige stuck to her guns.
“She is. But what if she wasn't?” Paige asked. “Are you really so shallow that you would base your opinions on someone for being overweight? I mean, you are hardly tidy yourself.”
“I base my opinions on you because of what you do. You flaunt yourselves.”
“We are naturists, have you tried naturism?”
He snorted. “It's immoral to go flaunting yourself like that. And people don't want to see it.”
“Have you tried naturism?” Paige asked aggressively. Peter Moran floundered and Paige asked again.
“No,” he admitted. “But …”
“If you had, you would know how good naturism is. We are one of the most popular topics on the 'net. Some people do want to see us, and those that don't, shouldn't go looking.” The host snorted. “And anyway. I think there is a greater immorality in blackmailing a child to gain a minor story on a minor celebrity. Which is why you were fired from your job as editor.”
Peter Moran's eyes narrowed. “This is not about me,” he hissed. “And we were doing some investigative journalism. I was cleared of any wrongdoing.”
“Yeah … right!” Paige smiled and rubbed her hands, openly goading the host to open the telephone lines for callers.
She got a number of questions from listeners asking why she sang naked, or why she couldn't wear clothes, as well as asking what happened when she was arrested. “What do your families say?” A caller asked. “I would be so embarrassed if it was my children.”
“Well, my Dad's not angry, but he's less than delighted, but has accepted it as my choice. Claire's parents are fine,” Paige replied. “And Jack's family hasn't accepted it at all. But we expected that, and we are being successful, and we aren't getting drunk every night, or doing drugs, or committing crimes. We are performing without any clothes on. And I am not going to name any names, but there is at least one virgin in the group, so we are not even at 'it' either. We are just having a bit of fun, being normal teenagers, making music. I really don't see why all the complaints.”
“Because you are offending a lot of very good people,” Peter Moran added. “We had the head of Christian Outrage where you are sat, and she was beside herself with fury. And your MP, Percy Kirkpatrick has said how disappointed he is that the people most associated with his constituency are immoral exhibitionists.”
Paige gulped. “I can't make them see reason. But there are far worse people out there, and to be offended by the human body, well, it's a disgrace frankly,” she muttered.
She looked Peter Moran in the eye who picked up a tabloid newspaper. “And what about these stories?” He asked and smirked. “Just today two talent agents have come forward to complain about your behaviour as they tried to sign you. How you got angry and threw this guy's brand new mobile phone out of the window and how you assaulted another one.”
Paige shook her head. “That's not true. Well not totally true.” She ran her hands through her hair as she thought. “The first guy tried to get me to do a sex tape with Claire to give us some newspaper coverage. And I refused so he got nasty.” Paige's eyes narrowed. “And despite what you, and everyone else thinks of me, my sexual affairs are private. As I keep telling anyone who doesn't know, naturism is not about sex, or flaunting yourself. It's about a sense of a freedom that no textile … sorry, non-naturist … will ever be able to understand.”
Peter listened but shook his head. “No-one appears to believe you though. It's just a gimmick.”
“No, that's not true. Jack reckons some people are too cynical as they believe that it's just a pre-planned marketing stunt, but it isn't. We are what you see.”
Peter went to respond but he glanced up and saw his helpers frantically waving at him. “Well it's been … interesting … Miss Simmons. But that's all we got time for, it's three o' clock, time for the news.” He pressed a button to play the pre-recorded news segment and Paige got up from the seat.
“I've done what I wanted to do,” Paige told him, and he gave a weak smile.
“Most people don't barge into my studios,” he told her. “Most people just book with the station. It's very unclassy to hijack my show.”
Paige chortled. “How classy is it to blackmail an eight year old? Or taunt an anorexic about her weight?” She asked as she opened the door to her sister. “Call me 'scum' all you like and I'll ignore you. But have a go at Claire like that again, and I will come after you.” She threatened him. “And as you can see, I'm not most people. I don't play by the rules.”
“You don't frighten me,” Peter laughed and tapped his fingers on the desk. “You can't threaten me.”
“No?” Paige asked with raised eyebrows. “Can't I? Then watch me. You really don't want to make an enemy out of me. I fight dirty.” Paige shut the door before Peter could respond and she nodded towards Hazel. “Let's go home.”
Chapter XVIII
Jack approached his home with trepidation. He knew that his father was still furious with him but also felt that the house marked a part of his past he didn't want to reopen. Every time he imagined walking up the drive, he was reminded of places where he had kissed Ellie or had tried to live up to his father's expectations of who he should grow into.
Jack opened the gate with his keyfob and had to park next to the garage; there was a removals van in the driveway, and he walked around it. “Hey,” he called to Aunt Lucinda. Dad moving my stuff out already?”
“No,” Lucinda cried as she guided the removals men. “I have my own place now. Divorce settlement came through.” Her face flickered.
“Oh. Excellent, I guess.”
“Jack,” the excited voice of his mother cried. “Oh you've come home, I knew you wouldn't last there. What happened?”
“I'm only home for a few days,” Jack told her and straightened his T-shirt as his mother bounded down the stairs to face him.
“Oh my God. Look at the state of your clothes. They are filthy. And look at you. Oh my God. When was the last time you had a shower. Or … this is disgusting!”
“Mum. I'm fine. I've spent most of the last three weeks camping. You should try it, it's fun.”
“Anna, calm down. Camping's nothing to be scared of, it's the thing that poor people do, when they can't afford a hotel,” Lucinda joked, but Anna shook her head.
“Come inside,” his mother demanded and Jack had to avoid a few men, carrying a table, that Lucinda had employed to help her move. “Paul,” she called out. “Jack's home.”
The balding figure of his father appeared from his study, and a smirk flashed across his face. “Knew it wouldn't be too long.”
“I am not staying,” Jack told him. “Well, I am going again. We have songs in the charts and we …”
Paul's face dropped and he scowled angrily. “For Christ's sake, man. When are you going to grow up?”
“You mean when am I going to do what you demand?” Jack shook his head. “I'm not. I spoke to Paige lots about this, and she thinks I need to break free, and I think she is right. I am not twelve any more. This is my choice, and this is me. I love being part of the band, and I loved playing at the festivals and gigs. It was freedom. I'm not a businessman, I can't run your factory, and I won't be following in your footsteps. OK? So I don't want to hear any more about it.”
Paul's eyes fizzed and sparkled, and he clenched his fists. “You will …”
“I won't,” Jack said calmly and ran his hands through his fair hair. “Really I won't. And I know you don't like it, but I take after my Aunty more than you. Harriet's the businesswoman. Give her the family firm, and she'll be the son you never had.”
There was silence as Paul simmered and shook. “I will not have a son of mine doing such ridiculous things over the country. Being naked in public, it's a disgr
ace.”
“Yeah, you've said that, but when are you going to let me live my life and not yours?”
There was a few moment's silence that was only punctuated as Jack's phone rang. He answered it when he saw Claire's name flash on his phone's display. He glared at his father, as his friend and him had a few seconds worth of conversation, that was just long enough for Claire to explain about her mother's predicament.
“Teri lost her job because you blame Claire?” Jack thundered and Paul gulped. “Did you sack her because of me?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “But it's for your own good, Jack.”
“And did you stop her from getting re-employed?”
“Ahh well,” Paul prevaricated.
“Fucking did you?” Jack shouted and clenched his fists. “Yes or no?”
“I am your father and you will …” Paul started, but Jack grabbed his father by his collar and threw him against the wallpapered wall with a thud.
“Did you?”
“I only did what was best,” Paul told him. “And …”
“Bollocks!” Jack shouted. “You think that denying my friend's family a livelihood is for the best? That's evil.”
“When you stopped doing the silly thing with the band she can have her job back, and that's it.”
Jack gave a few deep breaths and shook his head. “I can't believe you would do that. Do you really hate me that much?”
“It's for your own good,” he was told again. “And if you stay here, then it stops. There will be no more of this madness.”
“What?”
“If you want to stay here, then the band ends tonight. And you do not see them again.”
“So I have to move out if I don't want to break up the band?” Jack asked aggressively with a sneer, and Paul nodded.
“Then move in with me,” Lucinda suggested from the end of the room.
“Pardon?” Jack asked, swivelling his body to see her.
“Move in with me. I have a big house as well. My ex was a hedge fund manager and let's just say, he lost the house in the divorce. I don't mind you staying in the band. In fact, I quite like it.”
Paul glared at his little sister who smiled sweetly at him. “This doesn't concern you.”
“Oh but it does,” Lucinda responded. “I told you that if you kept tormenting my nephew I would take action. So I think I should be arranging to come into the factory where you can introduce me as co-manager.”
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