“Now, come on, we had a deal.”
“You're right,” Lucinda told him. “We did. Leave Jack alone and I would leave the factory alone. But instead you broke it so I can break my end of the bargain.” She smiled sweetly. “Simples!”
“You can't do this,” he told her. “All the times I have been there for you.”
Lucinda stopped one of her removal people and pointed at Jack. “I might have another bedroom and a recording studio to go as well.” She smiled and turned to her brother. “I know. And I am grateful. But now I am being there for Jack. One day when you see sense, you will be grateful I stopped you from managing to destroy your relationship with your son.” Paul snorted.
“He needs his parents to show what a mistake he's making.”
Lucinda shook his head. “He's eighteen. He can make his own decisions. “And on the subject of mistakes, I think I will be going to go through the factory accounts to see if there is any deadwood we can cut. Just to make sure, you are not making any mistakes. Unless you see reason.”
Paul threw his glass of whisky against the skirting-board at the end of the hall. “Fucking do what you want,” he shouted as the glass shattered. “Jack, just do what you want,” he yelled and looked at Lucinda. “But you better go nowhere near that place,” he warned his sister.
“I'll think about it,” she replied, and watched as he stormed into his office and slammed the door. She looked at the teenage man. “Do you want to stay here or do you want to move in with me?”
Jack stared at the broken whisky tumbler for a few seconds. “I better not stay here,” he muttered and sighed. “Do you mind?”
“'Course not!” Lucinda cried. “Let's get packing!”
* * * * *
“And with me in the studio is Jack Rees-Montague, founder and keyboard player with Bare Necessities …” There was equal amounts of cheering and booing as the camera panned around the small television studio and caught sight of Jack. “Peter Moran, radio host and journalist, and Sue Garratt, founder member of the activist group, Christian Outrage.” Jack smiled, and the host continued. “Jack, your act is just a marketing gimmick isn't it?” There was a large amount of clapping from the audience and Jack tried to smile at the antagonistic host.
“Absolutely not,” he said firmly. “The thing that most people fail to understand is that both Claire and Paige are naturists. They like to be naked, at home, on holiday and when they are enjoying themselves. We recorded the music naked and Paige can't sing anywhere near as well unless she is free and unrestrained. It's not a marketing thing at all and …”
“Well that's not true. Those first videos on the Internet were shot so that your nudity was clear.”
“Actually, Peter,” Jack said as he turned to face him. “We did not put those videos online and we did not authorise them.” Peter snorted in disbelief and Jack shook his head. “I think your years in the tabloid press have served to make you cynical,” he said, trying to provoke the former editor. “I know some people don't like us, I know some people think we are wrong, but I can honestly say that the power I get from being naked, the freedom and the rush is incredible. And I really like it. We have a fan base, but that transcends all ages, races and religions.”
“I am telling you now that you just decided to be naturist just to sell records. It's the way the music industry is going and people are sick and tired of marketing always being about sex. We live in an oversexualised culture, and people are fed up with it.”
“I agree,” the elderly leader of Christian Outrage told the partisan crowd, who cheered her every word. “I have families coming to me saying that they can't allow their children to use the computer in case they stumble across the filth peddled by him over there.” She jabbed her finger towards Jack.
Jack was stunned. “Well, I … er … sort of agree about the culture. We do live an oversexualised society, but we are not guilty of anything. There is no sex with us, it's not about sex. I have slept in the same tent as two naked, exceedingly attractive young ladies for most of the last month, and all I have got is a peck on the cheek. It's not about lust or eroticness, or anything like that. It's about personal freedom and choice. And what you have just done is to assume that because we are naked then sex must be involved, and it's not true.” There was a muted round of applause from the audience and Jack turned to Sue Garratt. “And if your congregation are concerned about the Internet then there is far worse material on the 'net than what has been uploaded of us.”
The opening exchanges set the tone for the full ninety minutes as the two other guests ganged up to condemn Jack and his friends. Jack was resolute and answered questions from the audience and the objections from the two complainants confidently before being asked if they were continuing.
“Of course,” he replied with a smirk.
“Even after the entire audience has booed you?” Sue asked him tersely.
“The entire audience didn't,” Jack responded. “A few did. But we knew we might polarise opinion, and we have done. But a large number of people like us. We sell out our gigs and get lots of hits of the 'net. And a lot of people tell us that we are right. There is bigotry in the Police, in the media and in certain groups that oppose us, and they like to criticise us by reading things into our motives that aren’t there. What we are doing, is nothing to be ashamed of.”
Sue crossed her arms. “It's against the Lord's teachings.”
“That's as may be,” Jack said with a grin. “But you have shared a platform with someone who blackmailed a child and taunted an anorexic. As Paige highlighted, in her own way, on his show. Is that not against the Lord's teachings too?”
“I do not condone Peter's behaviour, but he apologised for his conduct. Will you apologise and repent for your immoral actions?”
“But it’s not immoral. And we want to do it, and there is nothing anyone can do to stop us.”
“We'll see about that!”
* * * * *
Paige picked up her bag and held out her hands towards her worried sister. “What's wrong now?”
“Can't find my make-up,” Hazel moaned.
“Well come on, we haven't got much time. Jack'll be waiting for us.” Hazel swept the contents of the living room table onto the floor and then ran past Paige to go to their shared bedroom.
The overweight figure of Jeremy appeared in the room and rubbed his face, flinching as he did. Paige's eyes narrowed as she focused on the bruised and cut face of her fourteen year-old brother. “What's wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” he spat. “Just …”
“What walked into a door?” Paige asked. “'Cause if you did, that door can fight.”
“OK, I got involved in a fight,” Jeremy snapped and slammed his bedroom door.
“Got it!” Hazel told her, and then had to search for her phone. Paige asked her sister about Jeremy, but Jack was waiting for them in a red minibus.
“Where's the car?”
Jack grinned. “It's Lucinda. Well I'm living with her now. When she got divorced, she got the house and he got the central London flat. Dad and I had a row, so I am living with her, and she bought me the van. Wants to get it sprayed with our logo next week.”
“But we don't have a logo,” Paige replied with a confused look on her face, as she climbed into the front of the vehicle.
“Yeah. We need one apparently. Lucinda thinks that we will have groupies and T-shirts and everything. I think she thinks we are global superstars.” Hazel squeezed in next to her sister and Jack started the vehicle. He drove slowly to Claire's house as he was not used to manoeuvring something so large through the streets of busy south London.
Claire squealed with excitement when she saw it. “Have you sold your car?” She asked as she climbed in behind Jack. “This is so cool.”
“No, I've still got the BMW,” Jack giggled, and took a moment to explain about Lucinda, and then drove to the agreed location just outside London in a large field of maize.
Sweet Love was a song that Jack wrote; a fast, powerful rock song with plenty of guitar riffs and a high energy vocal track. It was one of Paige's favourite songs from the album and had been one of the more downloaded tracks from the Internet.
“I got this as a massive favour,” Andre told them. “The farmer has allowed us to film in his field as long as we pay for any damage.” He eyes narrowed, and he coughed. “He went to school with my Dad. He's my godfather. And … errr … well he wants an autograph for his kids.”
“Kids?” Paige asked.
“Well … they are only a bit younger than me.” Paige sighed; they were probably going to be older than her and not “kids” but “adults.” They waited for the film crew to arrive, and Andre sat with Claire explaining the concept that had been sold to them; Claire and her friends had already agreed to the storyboard, but Andre discussed it as they waited.
Hazel talked to Paige and Jack, and when Barry and his team arrived, Hazel listened intently. It was exciting, and Paige tried to get her involved, but her sister declined; public exhibitionism was too far for her and she promised to help Andre as a “gopher” instead.
The video consisted of Paige, Jack and Claire diving naked into the maize and then appearing, so one or more of them was at the camera at any point. Paige sang along to the music, that played as a reference guide, but she knew that they were not recording sound.
The “story” of the video consisted of Paige trying to get to Jack, and at the end had to almost rugby tackle him into the crop.
She giggled as she tackled him the first time before teasing. “Just like sharing a sleeping bag.” Hazel hovered around the filming, performing errands and talking to Andre, before the four of them left as evening approached.
Their videos were cheaply made, but they already had a fan base, and most of the music video channels wouldn't show nudity until after the watershed, so it made little sense in spending a lot of time or money on them. “And anyway,” Andre told Hazel when she asked. “OK Go was the most watched music video in 2006 and they made that on a hundred bucks.”
“Who's OK Go?” Hazel asked.
“Philistine,” the agent moaned. “Ask your sister. She'll know.”
“Bloody don't,” Paige replied with a smile and reached for Jack's smartphone. “Need to borrow this.”
“And you said you knew about music,” Andre teased with a smirk.
* * * * *
“You made an effort,” the almost naked Paige cried as Jack led her into the dining room of his aunt's house. “A real effort.”
“Yes,” Jack replied, blushing. “But Aunt Lucinda is out for the evening. Something about a wine tasting evening followed by a whisky tasting evening …”
“... Followed by a liver transplant,” Paige finished for him.
“Yeah. And so I thought I'd invite you around.”
“Without Claire?” Jack hummed, and Paige smiled. “It's OK, I sort of like you.” Jack was only wearing a bow tie and pulled out a chair containing a towel. The table was set out with tablecloths, candles and decorations. “You know, it's not a normal request. Please strip in the hallway.”
Jack chortled. “With anyone else I would have got a slap, with you, I just got a naked young lady!” Paige smiled and Jack returned with a chilled bottle of wine, pouring a small amount into Paige's glass. She looked at him. “What?”
“Try it.”
“It's wine.” She gulped it down and shrugged. “White wine.”
“It's a very nice wine,” he told her and filled her glass to the top. “It's a Prager Achleiten. Lucinda loves it, but she's always had very expensive taste.” He filled his glass up and then returned from the kitchen with two bowls of carrot and coriander soup. Paige sniffed it and smiled.
“I didn't know you were a cook,” she told him. “All that time when you moaned about Claire's cooking and …”
“I had a bit of help,” he admitted. “But I did most of it myself. I used to cook for me and Ellie all the time.”
Paige picked up a spoon, and Jack had to stop her. “The soup spoon is this round one.”
“Does it matter?” Paige asked with a smile. “A spoon's a spoon, right?”
Jack looked at the naked red-haired girl and smiled. “No,” he admitted and swapped his soup spoon for his dessert spoon. “I guess not.”
“So what am I doing here? I guess this isn't a date as you had loads of time to hit on me when we were touring and didn't.”
Jack stumbled over his words. “No. It's not that. It's … I like spending time with you and I know Claire is out tonight. She has a 'commitment' which I think is Claire-speak for a date, and I know you've got nothing on.”
“I never have anything on if I can get away with it!” Paige joked and flaunted her naked body, causing Jack to giggle.
“Well I thought we could have a nice meal, watch a film and curl up in a sleeping bag,” he asked. “And then I'll drive you home or get a taxi.” Paige's smile flickered, and Jack bit his lip.
“OK,” Paige muttered and blew on her hot soup. “I don't think Claire does have a date. She just has family things to do.” Jack nodded and Paige looked up at him. “So, what do you make of our success?” Paige asked, changing the subject. Jack snorted and raised his eyebrows.
“I don't know how much money we are making, but I can't help feeling that we could be really successful, and it's such fun. You make everything fun and Claire is such a laugh, and I think I've got it made.”
“What about Peter Moran?”
“Who cares 'bout them. I loved your little stunt, going to his radio show. You nailed him good and proper. I liked that. And the way you annihilated him on Claire. It's good.”
“Yeah, she rang me that night, was well taken with it.” Paige slurped the last of her soup and looked at her companion for the evening. “And you said I couldn't win.”
“It's only half-time,” Jack reminded her. “But yeah, I was surprised at how well you backed him into a corner.”
“And I saw you on TV. Andre told me to watch. You nailed that Christian bitch good and proper.”
Jack blushed and murmured into his soup. “Cheers.”
“Tell me. Are you glad that I didn't do what you said and walk away from the group when those agents came calling?”
“Yes,” Jack admitted. “I can't explain how excited I feel about … stuff now. It was crap six months ago. Did I tell you that Ellie rang me? She and Ian have split up and wants us to get back together.”
“I hope you told her where to go.”
“Of course I did,” Jack snapped. “I don't want to see her again. I've moved on. But it felt so good telling her that.” Paige watched him and he shrugged. “I said a few other things as well and it just came pouring out of me. Don't know where it all came from.”
“Good,” Paige muttered. “She didn't sound like a nice person.”
“No. Not like you or Claire. And both of you are prettier and better musicians. And …” Jack blushed as Paige grinned at him.
“Someone'll hear you, and they'll think you're in love.”
Jack opened his mouth and then closed it again, before clearing up the plates and passing Paige a salmon salad as a “fish course,” followed by fillet steak with a peppercorn sauce, a cheese selection and then a raspberry Pavlova.
“This wine is way too sweet,” Paige moaned.
“It's a dessert wine,” Jack replied and poured her out a coffee.
“Right. Well I prefer the other one.” Jack smiled and rubbed his eyes. “You don't need to make it so obvious that I embarrass you at times,” she grumbled. “I do know it. But I didn't grow up with all this finery. Dad's always worked long hours, when we used to live in Croydon we never saw him, and at eight, I moved to the little flat above a shop. Times have always been hard for us, so we don't have many different wines, or multiple courses. Hell, if we had yoghurts after our dinner that was a luxury.”
“Yoghurts?” Jack wondered.
�
��Yes, and I know this sounds stupid, but I'm not from your world and you make it so obvious that …”
“I don't,” Jack moaned, and Paige waved her hands around the house.
“Look at this place, I could never afford to live here.” Jack raised his eyebrows at her. “We won't make that much money from our music. And you have grown up a world away from me.”
“I know,” Jack muttered. “But that means nothing. I have embraced what you hold dear – naturism, for example. And I never mean to make you feel bad. I wouldn't.” Paige scratched her nose. “Meeting you was one of the best things that ever happened to me. If I hadn't, then I would be at the factory trying to follow in my Dad's footsteps instead of making great music with two talented friends.” Paige blushed, and he held out his hand. “I've got a great film to watch if you want to. It's called Juno.”
“Seen it,” Paige replied instantly. “But it's a good film, I'll watch it again.” Jack walked into the lounge and picked up the DVD.
“I've got some popcorn to do if you want.”
“I couldn't eat another thing,” Paige moaned. “Have you got a TV in your room?” She and Jack nodded. “And a double bed and duvet?”
“Yeah.”
“Then come on then,” Paige said, grabbing him by the hand. “You're not getting laid, but you might get a goodnight kiss,” she teased. “Come on it's Friday, live a little. See if this 'great friend' is going to cuddle up to you.”
Jack could only laugh at Paige's drunken expression. “It'll be like we are on tour again!”
* * * * *
“Where are we going?” Paige moaned. “It's like, 7am in the morning. And a Sunday. I am sure it's illegal to get me and Hazel up at this time of the morning.” The two sisters yawned and stretched.
“Getting ourselves on the front of the newspapers,” Claire replied. “That's why Jack has brought his video camera.”
“I am not becoming a suicide bomber, I told you that! I'm far too pretty to be blown up.” Jack laughed and giggled at Paige stretching out on the chairs of the minibus.
“It's that Sue Garratt. She came out in favour of the Russian President and Church and stuff on Friday.” Paige shrugged.
The Bare Necessities Page 19