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Little Spirit

Page 23

by DaNeo Duran


  ‘Get in the van,’ Calvin yelled but the stunned women didn’t move.

  Calvin remained watching as Alan’s brain, like a computer performing damage reports, ran check after check each one coming back, ‘okay’. Calvin needed just one check to come back, ‘not okay’ and the enemy would still fall. When that didn’t happen a wry smile crept across Alan’s lips. His return to awareness jolted Katherine and Barbara who finally high tailed it to the van.

  Alan bellowed and stepped forwards too soon. Calvin arrested him with a straight right punch to the jaw. The first check Alan ran came back, ‘not okay’. Done for, his legs vanished beneath him.

  Outside and only seconds after Katherine and Barbara, Calvin hauled himself into the van. Katherine, sitting sideways looking past her mum tried to read his thoughts having never seen him angry.

  The engine started but the revs oscillated bizarrely. Everyone’s heads nodded like ducks as the van jerked away. Katherine and her mum hung on to each other and dashboard as Calvin zigzagged nearly hitting one parked car, before over correcting and narrowly missing the next.

  Finally with the town behind them the driving settled and Calvin rested his elbows on the steering wheel.

  ‘You’re doing great,’ Katherine said. ‘How you feeling?’

  ‘Exhausted.’

  ‘Pull over sweetheart,’ Barbara said pointing to a hotel away from the road.

  Once in the bar Katherine and Barbara sipped whiskey whilst Calvin slumped at a table slurping Coke. Katherine got up and massaged his shoulders.

  ‘That’s amazing,’ he said. ‘Thanks babe.’

  ‘You’re amazing, you deserve it.’

  ‘Amazing,’ he mumbled.

  ‘The sugary caffeine will help,’ Barbara said.

  ‘I’ve never seen you like that,’ Katherine said. ‘I hope you weren’t angry with us.’

  ‘No babe – s’just one of them things.’

  She slid her arms around him. ‘I love you Calvin.’

  ‘You too,’ he said patting her arms. ‘I need fresh air.’

  Outside, now miles from the chemical works, Calvin breathed Cumbria’s finest air. Wrecked by the dump of adrenalin he had to find a way to stay awake until Penrith.

  Cousin Geoff had told him that powerful exercise rids a body of spent adrenalin. Calvin forced himself to sprint the car park. After a few unimpressive runs he tucked his nose inside his T-shirt. He needed a shower.

  Taking the wheel again he felt better noting how the revs no longer oscillated now his foot had stopped shaking. He steered between parked cars without incident. On the road the mood lightened and everyone ended up singing. Within an hour Calvin pulled the van back into the Andersons’ courtyard.

  Calvin headed straight for the shower.

  Dried and dressed he went downstairs to find that Katherine and Barbara had recited the events to Edward and Emily. Edward stood up to shake Calvin’s hand and told him bravo as Emily applauded.

  ‘My dear fellow I never would have permitted the journey if I’d suspected there’d be danger.’

  ‘Has he ever behaved violently towards you in the past?’ Emily asked Barbara.

  Barbara’s smile shrank as she looked away and down.

  Emily gasped and covered her mouth before reaching for Edward’s hand. ‘I’m sorry Barbara, we had no idea.’

  ‘You’re safe now, all of you are,’ Edward said.

  ’Well I feel safe with Calvin around,’ Katherine said squeezing him.

  ‘You’re a hero boy.’

  Calvin only realised he had no appetite when later Emily served the evening meal.

  * * *

  In London Danny picked up the phone expecting one of Amy’s friends. Instead a male voice said with a French accent, ‘Bowel-shatteringly bad news.’

  ‘Raphael?’ Danny said. ‘Bowel-shatteringly bad news – that’s a good one.’

  ‘Oui,’ Raphael said glumly.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘We’re on ze verge of signing a deal and my parents won’t lend me either car.’

  Danny knew this would happen. He bit his lip and counted to ten. ‘Damn.’

  ‘I know. They need both cars this weekend but us throwing gear around is causing them too much damage.’

  ‘It’s a fair point. Had any positive thoughts yet?’

  ‘None. Short term I propose taxis funded by busking. Something’ll come up.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll keep thinking too.’

  After ringing off Danny considered how much taxiing Raphael’s drums to and from Hemel would be. Some advanced notice would have been nice, he thought before considering it had been a long time coming.

  * * *

  Amy had tired of avoiding Danny during Katherine’s absence. That night she watched TV with him. When Danny told her about the cars she felt outraged. ‘Don’t they understand how important this is?’

  ‘It’s kinda understandable.’

  ‘It’s a joke.’ Amy decided to be nice to Danny the rest of the night.

  Friday 02nd December 1983

  The next morning the ringing phone woke Danny. His clock said 09:15. Not wanting to move he waited for Amy to answer. When she didn’t he groaned, rolled out of bed, passed the messy floor, grabbed the receiver in the hall and mumbled into it.’

  ‘Hi,’ a familiar voice said, ‘Is that Danny, or Calvin?’

  ‘It’s Danny, is that John?’

  ‘Indeed. Sorry to ring so early. I forget nothing in the music business starts before noon.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ve been up ages,’ Danny said causing John laughter.

  ‘You’ll want to know the contracts have been looked over. The long and short is they’re both fair. The record contract is simple – if you sell records you’ll make money if you don’t you won’t. The management contract is standard so even if Richard turns out to be rubbish you can drop him easily enough.

  ‘Great,’ Danny said pleased Richard had been straight with them. Amy’s door opened. She mouthed, who is it? Danny mouthed, John.

  ‘Hi John,’ she called towards the phone on her way to the bathroom.

  ‘How’s things generally?’ John asked. Danny told him but didn’t mention the transport travesty.

  John rang off and Danny phoned Raphael. Thrilled by John’s news he said, ‘I was sure ze contracts would come good.’

  ‘I didn’t mention our transport problems. We might have to appeal to John’s better nature in the future.’

  ‘I don’t know, we don’t want him thinking we’re incompetent’ Raphael said. ‘I suppose he might come through if he sees us struggling with taxis.’

  Wrapping up the call Danny caught Amy’s attention as she came back from her shower in her bathrobe.

  ‘You got good news Danny?’ she said. For a moment Danny just looked at her face. She had no makeup and he still fancied her.

  ‘Yeah, John’s lawyer’s friend says the contracts are good. We’ve done it; we’ve as good as got a record deal.’

  * * *

  In Penrith Calvin learned the good news of the contracts. Danny had arranged a meeting with GMD the following day. The excitement overshadowed the worries regarding lack of transportation to gigs. But, he wondered how his dad would react.

  Calvin waited for Katherine in the sun room with Edward.

  ‘You know,’ Edward said, ‘riches are first created in the mind.’

  ‘Turning passion to profit as our drummer Raphael would say. D’you really believe that?’ Calvin asked.

  ‘Absolutely. Wealth is a feeling deeper than mere emotion. If you think you’re not wealthy then make a new choice – here and here.’ Edward pointed to head and chest. ‘Forget bank balance. If you’re wealthy in heart and mind you’re wealthy outside too. Look at Barbara. She chose to live on the breadline for years. Now she’s made a new choice.’

  ‘Our drummer believes the same thing about wealth and every other thing.’

  ‘He’s right,’ Edward said.
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  ‘I suppose I feel that way about Little Spirit. I know I’m not the world’s best bass player and none of us sing that brilliantly and yet I know I’m right for the band as are the others. We’re a fantastic team.’

  ‘And do you feel like you’re winning?’

  ‘Every day.’

  ‘Excellent. One more thing you should know,’ Edward said. ‘Giving is important. Give more with your music that you take. Everything you give will come back to you with interest.’

  ‘You know, I believe we do. We love what we do and we do it for the people.’

  ‘Then you’re on the right path.’ Edward sat back. ‘You and Katherine have given so much to Barbara I can’t thank you enough.’

  * * *

  They’d normally busked on Fridays but instead of worrying about the day’s lost revenue Danny practiced guitar and exercised hard. But by 5pm he had something to worry about. Calvin still hadn’t arrived and Raphael’s drum laden taxi would arrive any minute.

  And then it happened – Raphael’s characteristic rhythmical knock at the door.

  ‘Hi Danny,’ Raphael said brightly when Danny open it.

  Before Danny could tell him about Calvin’s absence, Calvin said, ‘Aright mate.’

  ‘Hi,’ Danny said stunned to see him with Katherine. ‘Is this coincidence?’

  ‘He still believes in coincidences,’ Raphael tutted to Calvin.

  ‘How d’you like the band van?’ Calvin said ignoring Raphael and pointing. ‘It’s a gift to Katherine and the band from her new granddad.’

  Danny looked at the worn out blue Bedford. It looked like it’d been used to plough fields. A grin blossomed.

  Saturday 03rd December1983

  By 11am Saturday the lads had dressed their best and, with Richard from GMD, met John’s friend Bernard at his office where everyone had signed the documents.

  Afterwards the lads felt bizarrely un-celebratory. That feeling redoubled when Richard clicked his Parker pen and said, ‘That’s that. You ready to record an album?’

  ‘Of course,’ Raphael said.

  Austin’s studio had become available but, they’d have to wait until February the following year if they didn’t start recording in two days.

  Leaving the office the stunned lads found payphones and rang their bosses tendering immediate resignations. Liz wished Danny luck and told him he’d always be welcome as worker or punter. Derek expressed shock but excitedly blessed Raphael’s good fortune. Ian hit the roof and slammed the phone down on Calvin.

  * * *

  The band had discussed modifying the van and Raphael drove via a breaker’s yard to his family home in Hemel. After reversing onto the drive Raphael’s dad appeared eager to help with its customisations. Danny wondered if he felt guilty for withdrawing the use of the cars.

  ‘Bonjour Papa,’ Raphael said. Danny thanked him for all the times he’d leant them his car. A speech he repeated when Raphael’s mother stepped out to admire the van and congratulate them on signing the deal.

  Calvin said little. He hadn’t said much since his ex-boss’s outburst.

  ‘How did you get on at ze yard?’ Raphael’s dad asked.

  Raphael opened the back of the van. ‘Voilà, two double coach seats?’

  ‘Hope you measured them.’

  ‘Bien sûr,’ Raphael said.

  With his dad’s tools and help they moved the van’s bulkhead back and bolted the seats in front of it. ‘Seven seats and still more than enough room for band equipment. C’est fantastique.’

  * * *

  Later that night the band, Amy and Katherine rode in the newly fitted van to The Water Rats.

  Raphael’s new intro music, trialled at the previous night’s gig, once again had the desired hushing effect on the audience’s chatter. After a few songs Danny told the crowd that they’d signed a record deal and would be recording an album.

  Amidst the crowd’s surging respect for the band things seemed unreal to Amy. As the band’s friend and number one fan she no longer knew where she’d fit into the scheme of things. Beside her Katherine, the bass player’s love, brimmed with pride. What about me? Amy wondered.

  For the first time in a while she sank a few vodkas and watched Danny owning stage and audience. The voice in her head preached, admit it Amy he’s pure sex.

  Sunday 4th December 1983

  Although Katherine would miss Calvin, she felt unreserved happiness. Only Calvin’s dad failed to extend best wishes. To him earning money selling records seemed as rotten as conning pensioners out of their savings. Katherine couldn’t understand his belief that the only honest living involved Calvin returning to Coventry and utilising his degree.

  On Sunday Raphael arrived with the van having raided the music shop for drum heads, guitar strings and synths he’d rented.

  In the street she and Amy stood shoulder to shoulder whilst the boys stowed their instruments and bags. Katherine handed Calvin a carrier bag of refreshments for the journey. He assured her the recording wouldn’t take longer than necessary and promised to phone every day.

  * * *

  Hours later the band arrived at Leeds. Austin welcomed them to his family home in suburban Headingley. He showed them a large bedroom containing, to their surprise three single beds. Richard had them believing they’d be sleeping on the floor and be fed bread and water – another detail Austin set them straight on before suggesting they stow their gear safely in the studio.

  Raphael rubbed his hands together looking forward to seeing where they’d record.

  Outside Danny opened the van doors.

  ‘There she is – the Vox AC30,’ Austin said but stayed quiet when Calvin dragged his old amp out and followed him to the building beside the house. Fleeting despondency washed over Calvin recalling the arguments his amp caused with Tom when recording the demo.

  They dumped the gear in the hall beyond the security door. Calvin clocked Raphael’s disappointed look. Clearly he didn’t want to have to wait until morning to see the studio’s control room.

  Monday 05th December 1983

  The band had been told to get up when they wanted the next day but excitement had the better of them.

  ‘Morning guys,’ their producer said eventually ambling into the front room where they’d been waiting ages.

  The band knew GMD’s payment to Austin had been based on completed album not on hourly rate. They knew the approach to recording would be different from the frenetic demo at Tom’s studio but they hadn’t left their London jobs and bosses in the lurch just to sit around.

  Soon though Austin nodded towards the door and the lads finally saw The Production Annex. Danny looked to Calvin who looked to Raphael each lad equally shocked at the rooms’ hideousness. Instead of Tom’s contemporary black and grey decor Austin’s control room had shabby brown walls and carpet, not soundproofed doors but hefty traditional oak. Instead of a cave-like atmosphere, daylight forced its way passed filthy glass. Where Tom’s equipment looked state-of-the-art with flashing LEDs, Austin’s look dated and random with analogue meters. And rather than discrete wall mounted sound baffles, scruffy oxidised acoustic-foam boards hung angled from the ceiling.

  Unconcerned with the lads’ reaction Austin put the kettle on whilst everyone settled on seating that may have been retrieved from a fly tip.

  Austin slouched in his swivel chair which actually looked like it might have cost a pretty penny. Over mugs of tea they discussed musical likes and dislikes. Looking around the mess of leads and archaic equipment Calvin virtually lost hope of achieving a modern sound.

  Sometime before lunch the lads set up under Austin’s supervision. His knowledge of the studio meant he knew precisely where everything would sound best. The drums took the live room. Danny placed his AC30 in the hall, precisely where the mic would capture divine ambience. The bass amp, angled at thirty-eight degrees, occupied the vocal booth. Dismissing Tom’s ignorance Austin advised he’d blend a DI bass sound with Calvin’s old amp.
/>   With Raphael banging drums in the live room Calvin and Danny joined Austin in the control room where the music they played came through immense studio monitors. Austin balancing sounds ran from room to room fine tuning the drum heads and swapping Raphael’s felt kick drum beater for a wooden one. He tried a different mic on Calvin’s bass amp. They played through lunch and into evening whilst Austin twirled knobs on the amps and equipment.

  Needles on meters twitched if they worked and if they didn’t Austin simply trusted his ears; aiming to achieve the best possible sound at source rather than later fixing things in the mix. The band finally understood that visual aesthetics paled in the face of sound quality’s importance as Austin drew fabulousness from the Soviet looking equipment.

  ‘Okay, we’ll wrap it up there for today,’ Austin eventually said. ‘Please nobody touch anything. It’s nearly there.’

  Tuesday 06th December 1983

  The band set to playing their songs after another leisurely start to the day.

  ‘We’re doing well,’ Austin said whilst shaking his head and further adjusting Calvin’s bass amp. He stopped Raphael’s playing in order to Sellatape an expired Access card to the kick drum head brightening its attack.

  After more time and more twiddling he said, ‘Okay guys, now we’re sounding really good.’

  With that he fitted two new 16-track Ampex reels to synchronised tape machines.

  Still lacking urgency everyone got to chatting again. Eventually the subject of the season’s Grand Prix ran dry.

  The band looked to Austin. He smiled, opened his hands and casually said, ‘Let’s record.’

  Though everyone played, only the drums went to tape and only after Austin had challenged Raphael to conjure even higher musicality and originality for his Life in the Sunshine drum-track.

  ‘I’m feeling inspired,’ he said.

  Getting up, he stereo mic’d a small amp in the live room beside the drums. ‘I’ll split Calvin’s DI’d bass sound and send some to this amp.’

 

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