by DaNeo Duran
The bandmates and Amy regrouped and followed Giovanni along with Barbara and John.
‘What a fabulous room,’ Calvin said getting comfy
‘Hmm,’ said Katherine as the previous night’s feelings spiralled back.
‘Where’s Grace?’ Raphael asked.
When nobody knew he left to find her.
The door closed behind him but popped open again a minute later.
‘Good evening,’ the yacht’s captain said as all conversation dropped away. ‘Would it be okay if I joined you?’
Amy’s migraine had meant she hadn’t seen the Italian American properly but now saw his near-black eyes and knew he must be Katherine’s true father.
‘Come in,’ John said shifting along the seating to make room for him.
‘This feels awkward, I don’t want to impose,’ Lanzo said.
‘Nonsense,’ Katherine said, ‘you’re very welcome; I mean, apart from this being your yacht of course.’
‘Well, truth be told, I’ve been more worked up about seeing you today than meeting you yesterday.’
Half the room’s occupants had no idea what the man could be talking about.
‘Babe,’ Calvin said, ‘does the captain here have something to do with the news you mentioned earlier?’
‘He does,’ Katherine said.
‘I’m the owner of this yacht and introduced you to the stage earlier. Lanzo Valli,’ he said offering his hand. ‘I presume you’re Calvin?’
‘Pleasure,’ he said warily.
Katherine looked on amused to see the similarities Abigail had.
‘After all Barbara’s told me about you it’s my pleasure to meet you. And, despite being an Elvis man I enjoyed your show immensely.’
‘That’s great, thank you,’ Calvin said. ‘So, what’s the big news?’
Katherine glanced at her mum before saying to him, ‘Remember that bloke you knocked out when we went to collect my mum’s stuff in Cumbria?’
‘The bloke who knocked himself out on my head – your dad.’
‘Seems not.’
* * *
Raphael didn’t find Grace anywhere indoors. Outside he looked from the yacht’s railings down the quay. No sign. He took a deep breath and sighed. The cooling air felt good in contrast to the stuffy smoke of the function rooms.
He gazed at the cloudless sky fading from blue to black; broken only by white moon and stars. He thought of what Calvin had seen a year ago when they decided on the band colours.
Caught in nature’s phenomenon, Raphael could have stayed there forever.
‘Hello.’
His reverie broke.
‘Hello,’ he said to Grace feeling his knees weaken. He noted his breath shorten as it had been frequently in her presence. ‘I was looking for you.’
‘Amongst the stars?’
‘Why not, I couldn’t see you along the quay.’
‘You didn’t look hard enough. I saw you on the way back from the phone.’
She touched his hand.
It felt lovely but she said, ‘Where are the others, I’ve got stuff to tell?’
Raphael led the way despite his reluctance to leave the stars behind or distract the romantic truth about his deepening feelings for Grace.
When they arrived at the lounge they found Katherine in full swing.
‘What’s going on?’ Raphael asked.
Katherine introduced Lanzo and once again recounted the story.
‘You know mum,’ she said, ‘I’m still mad you said nothing all those years. You let my dad, I mean that man, ignore and insult me.’
Before Barbara could respond, Calvin said, ‘I’ve met Alan. Nobody could understand how hard it’d be for Barbara living with someone like that.’
‘I’m sure that’s right,’ John said.
‘Sometimes ze cost of admitting ze truth to oneself is simply too high of a price to pay,’ Raphael said.
‘We can only imagine,’ Lanzo said.
Raphael faced Katherine. ‘I’m not sure if it helps but, you knew about this.’
‘What could you possibly mean by that?’ Katherine said.
‘Remember ze conversation we had in ze flat? You were on about what happens if babies get mixed up at ze hospital? My guess, you knew something was amiss.’
Katherine’s eyebrows knotted. Yes, she did know. She’d struggled with her identity since leaving Cumbria when every social truth turned out to be wrong. Finding love with Calvin and friends but without Saint Tropez wealth only thickened the mist of confusion.
‘Raphael’s made a good point,’ John said. ‘In The Sheraton, with you and Calvin, I said you must be some sort of princess.’
‘You did, I remember.’
‘Perso Principessa – lost princess,’ Lanzo said nodding to Barbara before focusing on Katherine, ‘I realise you’re the princess I’d yet to find.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Raphael said.
‘What have you to be sorry about?’ Katherine said not wanting to be centre of attention any longer.
‘I remember saying that if you want to know ze truth, look at ze seeds. Apple seeds only ever grow into apple trees.’
‘I remember.’
‘I didn’t know we were looking at ze wrong seed.’
‘Another great insight,’ Lanzo said. ‘The thing is Katherine, Barbara tells me it’s your inspired actions that swayed her to leave Alan. I could be cross at Barbara for not telling me I had a daughter sooner but I appreciate what Calvin said about how hard it must have been for her. If she’d exposed the truth before leaving Alan it’d have led to more bullying abuse.’
‘Now I feel mean for being angry,’ Katherine said. She apologised to her mum and added, ‘I’m pleased you’re out of that relationship.’
‘You and me both,’ Barbara said. She smiled at her and then John.
‘If you’ll forgive me for saying, I won’t miss Alan either,’ Lanzo said. ‘But, I’m delighted to have met you Katherine. And I’m excited by the prospect of getting to know you better. I hope you feel some of that too.’
‘Actually I do,’ Katherine said. ‘I’d like that.’
‘She’s busy.’
Everyone looked at Grace.
‘That’s true,’ Katherine said. ‘I’m styling a band in a few days’ time; my first job as a freelance fashion stylist.’
Before Lanzo could congratulate her, Grace spoke again. ‘You’re busier than that Katherine.’
‘Am I?’
‘Yup, I’ve got two important announcements,’ Grace said having waited quietly for the opportunity to share her news. ‘Firstly, Little Spirit. I phoned Richard who said that Brewster Springfield personally contacted the William Morris agency and told them they should sort you out with your own tour and believe it or not that’s what they’re doing. So, after the Duran dates and next two singles have been released you’ll be off on your own; there’s already talk of America.’
Lanzo called for champagne.
‘So how come I’m so busy?’ Katherine asked.
‘That’s the second announcement. Richard told me Dave Whitaker’s got you another job. Immediately we get back off the video set and before anything else you’re doing Jorge Michaels.’
‘Am I?’ Katherine fanned her face as her cheeks flushed with surprise.
‘Yup, first day back.’
‘What about Randolph Ridge and the rest of Slamm!?’
‘It’s only Jorge, he’s doing a solo single.’
‘Can’t be the end of Slamm!, can it?’ Amy said.
‘Who knows?’
‘Blimey, is he even signed to Vanquar?’ Katherine asked.
‘Doesn’t matter, Dave Whitaker knows everyone. The industry is very close-knit. But, Vanquar or not you couldn’t wish for a better subject to start your portfolio.’
‘I’ll say.’
Lanzo stood up. ‘Well that certainly changed the mood round here. Congratulations all of you. Katherine I’m, really, very proud.’
Champagne flutes filled then got drained.
Amy said, ‘So, me and Katherine want to hear about the filming you lads have been doing.’
Danny described the château outside of Saint Raphael. ‘It’s a magnificent stately home; the perfect setting for I Can’t Wish.’
Danny told them how Saint Raphael’s promenade had been busy with stalls and shoppers who lingered into the evening on account of it having been Ascension Day. They’d set up and gigged to the people who’d flocked round and filmed them for Life in the Sunshine.
‘Tomorrow,’ Danny continued, ‘we’re hoping you girls will join us because we’re hiring speed boats to water-ski from and later on we’re taking John’s yacht out for a night cruise.’
‘And you need us for that?’ Amy said.
‘Of course; can’t water ski without hot girls in speed boats.’
‘The night cruise will be amazing if ze night’s like tonight,’ Raphael said. ‘Though, I’m not sure we should let Grace on set though.’
‘Why not Grace?’ Lanzo asked.
Raphael said, ‘Last time she ended up snogging someone else.’
‘Well – the director told me to,’ Grace said defensively.
‘Aw, Raphael’s jealous,’ Danny said.
‘Is he?’ Barbara asked, ‘Are you Raphael?’
Grace fell silent.
Raphael pretended to concentrate on his fingernails whilst he tried to think of something clever to say.
Excusing Raphael from embarrassment Lanzo said, ‘If you’re interested you could shoot some of your video here on Perso Principessa.’
‘That’d be great,’ Grace said.
* * *
Katherine suggested they head back to the disco.
Back with the remaining throng of wedding guests, not two songs played before the DJ started winding the night down.
‘Okay, this one’s for all you lovers out there,’ he said.
When Spandau Ballet’s True started Raphael looked around as Katherine fell into Calvin’s arms and Amy stepped into Danny’s.
Grace looked up at him and he imagined how good she’d feel in his arms.
‘Is there a chance one so lovely as you might fancy a dance, with me?’ he ventured.
She regarded him curiously. ‘You’ve never complimented me before.’
‘Yes I have; many times in my imagination.’
‘Really?’
‘Of course but, your uncle’s generally been nearby.’
‘Not now he ain’t. He’s eight-hundred miles away.’
‘Oui. So, shall we dance?’
She flicked her hair over her shoulder. ‘Silly question.’
She held up her arms and Raphael stepped forwards and discovered he’d had no idea just how good she’d feel. Her body pressed into his. He smelt her hair and perfume.
‘Were you really jealous of that other lad being with me on set?’ she asked.
Stepping in time with her to the beat he said, ‘Ze most jealous I’ve ever been.’
She slid a hand from his shoulder to his neck and face. Her fingers felt wonderfully cool, as they had done when she’d touched him weeks earlier after they’d signed to Vanquar.
He could feel himself falling for her there and then and, with everything he’d dreamed of and visualised for Little Spirit materialising he closed his eyes and felt his lips meet Grace’s.
The End
Acknowledgements and legal bits
Again I’d like to thank everyone who has read Little Spirit. Of course I hope you’ve enjoyed it and if you haven’t yet read Johnny and The USed Wonz I’d love you to enjoy some time with it too. In fact there’s a sample at the end.
Need I ask you to leave a review? I’m sure you can imagine how much I’d appreciate your thoughts and feelings. I’d love to hear from you at https://www.daneoduran.com
The story of Little Spirit is my own and is a work of fiction. All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. If you have any queries contact me at https://www.daneoduran.com
The Book Cover design was by myself DaNeo Duran but I’d like to thank https://www.dafont.com for providing the fonts used. In particular Digital Graphic Labs for the ‘Type Wrong’ font, Nestor Delgado for the ‘Expansiva’ font and TracerTong for their ‘Universal Accreditation’ font. Also I’d like to thank https://www.downloadfreevector.com for providing the crowd image.
About the author:
DaNeo Duran is a novelist, Leeds University graduate musician and Carol Wilson Performance Coach. He has spent many years in amateur and professional bands and has decades of music industry experience.
During the 1980s he played drums in many bands and throughout the 1990s made a gradual switch to bass guitar. Also during the 1990s he studied Music Production and song writing.
After one too many career disappointments DaNeo turned to novel writing in order to enjoy the so-near-yet-so-far professional success that had at that time eluded him. He now enjoys touring as a musician and promoting his novels.
For plenty more information, music, photos, live appearances and a means to contact DaNeo Duran visit: https://www.daneoduran.com.
Ladies and gentlemen for your continued reading pleasure, here is an excerpt from Johnny and The USed Wonz:
Wichita, Kansas: Saturday 02nd June 1984
The USed Wonz had plenty to feel confident about. Two months earlier the band’s Million Memories promo video had found its way into the countless American homes now subscribing to MTV. That had helped reactivate their debut album’s sales. With the video in heavy rotation the band hardly needed commercial radio stations’ help spreading their music.
Currently midway through their second US tour, The USed Wonz now found their own gigs selling out along with the shows they opened for larger acts with larger crowds.
But, backstage this Saturday night Johnny didn’t feel good. He felt caged.
In a crate-sized dressing room his three bandmates sensed his anxiety. This close to show time he should be revving everyone up. Instead his mind bounced thoughts like pinballs; none of them hitting home.
‘What’s up Johnny?’ Stu asked.
I’m screwed and so are all of you, he thought looking at the drummer’s knowing expression.
‘Nothing’s up, I’m fine,’ he said; like Stu would believe him.
Nevertheless Stu, the trendiest band member turned back to the mirror and spiked his hair.
Both orphaned girls, Christine and Mazz had witnessed the exchange and Johnny saw them stiffen. He glared at the back of Stu’s head with a frustration he’d not felt for his best friend since their vehement introduction years earlier.
‘I need some air,’ Johnny said checking the clock above the mirror and re-buttoning his silk shirt.
He left the shabby dressing room and squelched in leather pants still not dry from their daily soaping. He left the cool of the venue’s backstage area and headed into Wichita’s heat, still radiating from the tarmac.
Despite having lived in the States for eight months he still had to think which way to look before crossing roads.
On South Webb Road, he found a pay phone and dialled an office number from memory.
After three rings a woman’s voice came through America’s west coast lines. Only then did he realise how stressed he’d become.
‘Linda,’ he said flopping against the booth’s casing.
* * *
In her newly rented office Linda only half recognised the caller. ‘Johnny?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Can’t be, you’ve not asked what I’m wearing.’
That didn’t actually surprise her. Things had been different between them since they’d returned from The USed Wonz’ video shoot in London months earlier.
‘I expected the answering machine. What you doing there?’ he asked.
‘It’s not so late this far west.’
‘Linda, it’
s Saturday, you should be elsewhere enjoying yourself.’
He had a point but she sat back and twirled a lock of chemically lightened hair whilst gratefully avoiding home. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I didn’t know who else to phone.’
Never tiring of Johnny’s English accent, Linda rested her feet on the desk and her eyes on his Stetson. He’d left it in her old owner occupied office. When she sold it and moved into her rented office his hat came too.
‘You talk, I’ll listen,’ she told him.
Johnny talked.
Linda listened; then her eyes shot open.
With feet back on the floor she sat forwards and slapped her hand into her desk. ‘What?’
‘I said—’
‘Never mind, I heard you.’
She stood up, then sat down. Neither spoke. Linda’s mind raced.
Her feet searched for her shoes under her desk. ‘I’ll sort it.’
‘What – you can’t.’
‘Which gig’s this one?’
‘Port of Wichita.’
She pulled a drawer and opened a file. ‘Got it, Kansas City tomorrow right?’
She faced the map of the States behind her and checked her watch. ‘It’ll take me at least until 2am your time to reach you.’
‘Linda, you know how I feel—’
‘I’ve no idea what you’re about to say but I need you off the phone. I’ll meet you in your motel’s reception.’
‘Okay.’
‘Johnny?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Have a good gig.’
Alone in her office Linda screamed but without sincerity. Looking at the phone she pondered where to start knowing she shouldn’t be starting at all.
She booked a Wichita flight then rang her apartment.
‘Hi Dwight, it’s me,’ she said surprised to get the answering machine. ‘Mom’s not well again. I’ll stay with her and see you tomorrow, okay?’
She could have told the truth but choose to lie having not seen her boyfriend since their first proper argument the previous morning.
Then she dialled her mother and apologised for not being able to visit that night.
Two minutes later she buried her foot on the gas of her burgundy Lotus Esprit. The turbo-charged two-seater roared the airport’s thirty minute journey in twenty.
* * *
Having seen a group of girls outside the venue Johnny turned to avoid being recognised before stepping into the road. A blaring Cadillac horn soon saw him checking left and right properly.
Minutes later back in the dressing room Christine asked, ‘Why d’you phone Linda?’
Ignoring her Johnny unbuttoned his shirt and recomposed himself following the micro-mobbing he’d received after the Cadillac’s horn had blown his cover.