‘He’d lost two friends, two band members. He and Tom Watson had known each other practically their entire lives. That’s a lot to bear.’
‘I know, and I don’t want to try to pretend that two people’s deaths meant nothing. But he’s strong. He’s had to be to cope with what life’s dished out to him over the years. People see fame, success, money and think it’s an easy life, but it takes its toll. Fair enough, he never had to worry about being able to afford to feed and clothe his family. I can’t imagine how awful that must be. But he’s had other stuff to deal with, really bad shit. I still believe there’s more to that business when the boys died and he and Mum split up. His reaction was too extreme, otherwise.’
Chapter 20
Next day, Alex and Johnny picked up where they’d left off. He got up to make coffee and continued talking while he was busy.
‘
Heartbreaker I
was pretty raw. We tried to get a live feel on vinyl, not that we knew anything much about recording or producing then. Over time, the albums became more polished as we learned studiocraft, although we hoped not too clinical.’ He leaned against the worktop, arms folded, as he waited for the kettle to boil. ‘We did a couple of tours with the first two albums when breaking down on motorways and bunking up together in guest houses and cheap hotels was the norm.’ He smiled. ‘Not to mention room hopping and kipping in the van, depending on who’d copped off.
‘We were getting our first radio plays and we recorded a session for John Peel. We really felt like it was the start of something, that we just needed a lucky break and that would be it. The band was really strong, very relaxed. We had room to experiment and to grow musically. It was exciting, despite the hard work and the odd frustration.’ He added hot water to the
cafetiere
and brought it over to the table.
‘Then we wrote our first major song,
Rescued
. Tom, Andy and I were writing well as a team, but when we hit on that, it was electric. I’d been fooling around with my guitar and I hit on a riff that I instantly loved. Tom chipped in a bit of keyboards and then suddenly we had something, just a handful of bars, but we’d got it on tape. We shouted for Colin and Paul, and had the song down within a couple of hours. Andy came up with some lyrics almost on the spot.
‘It was such a thrill,’ said Johnny, pushing down the plunger on the
cafetiere
. ‘I mean, we’d all heard about Uriah Heep writing
The Wizard
in the back of the van on the way to a gig and Deep Purple writing
Highway Star
on the tour bus and then performing it that night at the show, but we’d never experienced anything like it ourselves. We chucked it into the last couple of shows on the
Heartbreaker II
tour to see how it went down and the audience reaction to it was amazing. Even though people had never heard it before, they loved it. We built the third album around
Rescued
, made it the title track, and that was that. We broke big. Everywhere you went, somebody was playing it, or humming it, or singing it. What a trip.’
Chapter 21
Conscious that she’d be speaking with Paul Scott and Colin Carson in just a few days’ time, Alex spent the weekend in preparation at the George and Dragon. She re-read the features and interviews that had appeared in the press when
Labour of Love
had been launched earlier in the year, and scanned the two unofficial Heartbreaker biographies.
The Naked Truth
was a piece of sensationalist trash that had caused no end of trouble, and signalled the end of Colin Carson’s first marriage, when it had appeared in the early ‘90s. It gave her scandal, gossip and salacious rumour, but — even though it had been written by a couple of former members of the Heartbreaker crew — nothing she felt she could rely on.
The Heartbreaker Story
, which had come out a few years later, was as dry as dust, although it seemed to be reasonably factually and chronologically accurate. It confirmed that while support for Heartbreaker might have started small, it built quickly. The group established a hard core of extremely loyal fans and also gained peer recognition for their skill and craftsmanship as musicians and songwriters. The third album,
Rescued
, with its anthemic title track, was the turning point. People bought the single, bought the album, and bought tickets for the promotional tour and the Robson’s Farm concert at which they were a headline act that year. The book confirmed what the DVD of the gig showed: that Heartbreaker played a blinding two hour set, followed by about half an hour of encores, not leaving the stage until after midnight, with the crowd still screaming for more.
***
The following week, Johnny was telling Alex about Tom Watson.
‘He was always playing pranks,’ Johnny said. ‘I’ve found things in my bed you just would not believe. I’ve had buckets of every substance known to man tipped over me. I’ve been drawn on, shaved and dyed, and I’ve had all of the contents of my hotel room, including the bed, stolen while I slept. Of course, he had to drug me for that one.’ He laughed. ‘And once Benny Rutherford was on the road crew, Tom went into overdrive. He could get Benny to do just about anything.
‘There was a tailor in Hollywood, Nudie Cohn, who made the most amazing clothing. You know the style, yeah? Rhinestones, applique, embroidery, real craftsmanship. Colin had wanted a Nudie suit for ages and he finally got one made one time when we were in the States. It was really beautiful, a work of art. Tom got Benny to shoulder-charge poor Colin into the deep end of a swimming pool at some party or other when he was wearing it. Colin went apeshit.
‘Benny’s other exploits included slipping Paul a couple of sleeping pills, after which he awoke to find he’d been handcuffed to a freaky chick who’d been stalking him for a couple of weeks. He also, and this was without Tom’s knowledge, spiked our squash with acid when we were experimenting with sobriety and its effects on creativity.’ Johnny grinned. ‘We had a fabulous trip, a real group experience. And as a bonus, it got Tom over his fear of acid. Benny was a headcase, he stopped at nothing.’ Johnny paused. ‘He’s dead now, you know. His liver packed in when he was forty-two. Too much drugs and booze.’
Chapter 22
Alex was relieved when Thursday dawned warm, bright and clear; she knew that Johnny was planning a barbecue for his guests, who were due to arrive late morning. Alex had promised Chrissie she would go over early and help her to prepare. She packed her overnight bag and headed out to her car just before nine.
‘See you Monday, Gerry,’ she called, seeing him bottling up in the bar as she left.
‘Have a good time, now. And tell those boys we miss them down here.’
The drive through leafy green countryside with the morning sun shining through to offer dappled shade was a pleasure. The verges were full of rhododendrons in glorious purple bloom, large, feathery ferns beneath. Alex relaxed as she drove. She was looking forward to the next couple of days.
When she got to the house, Chrissie was already busy in the kitchen and she could hear Mrs Hughes the housekeeper preparing bedrooms and bathrooms.
‘Hi, Alex,’ said Chrissie, hugging her. ‘Come on through. I’ve got a pot of coffee on to get us started.’
The kitchen was a hive of activity. Johnny was putting cuts of meat into a variety of marinades and threading skewers to make kebabs, and Chrissie was preparing salads and chopping watermelon into wedges.
‘Hi, Alex.’ Johnny washed his hands and poured her a coffee. ‘Ten minute break, Chrissie, then we’ll get on again.’
‘Okay, but don’t blame me if you’re rushing around at the last moment.’
Johnny grinned. ‘I’ll be rushing around all day anyway, what difference will it make?’
They cleared a space on the table top for their mugs and sat down.
‘What’s the plan?’ asked Alex, sipping at the hot coffee.
‘After we’ve had this, we’ll get you settled in,’ said Chrissie, taking charge. ‘Then if you want to give me a hand that would be brilliant. We can leave the great white hunter to get on with the meat fest. Wait ‘til you see him in action at the grill. It’s terrifying what that man can do to perfectly good food.’
***
Once everything was ready, Alex and Chrissie went off to get changed. When Alex came back down, she headed out into the garden to see what was happening and found Johnny busy getting the charcoal alight. He waved to Alex when he saw her and she walked over to him. He was sprinkling a large quantity of lighter fluid onto a heap of briquettes. ‘Watch this … stand back.’ He threw a match on top of the pile and the fluid went up in a plume of bright flame. ‘Whoo! I love that.’
‘You big kid.’ Chrissie was laughing as she joined them. ‘Honestly, Alex, he’s the same every time. Just doesn’t grow out of it.’ She went over to her father and he put his arm around her and hugged her close, kissed her forehead, then put his other arm round Alex’s shoulders. ‘Right then, team, what’s left to do?’
‘Not much,’ said Chrissie. ‘Mrs H is all done, you seem pretty well organised and Alex and I have done our bit.’
‘Okay.’ He gave both women an affectionate squeeze. ‘I’ll go and get my glad rags on, then.’ He disappeared off into the house. Alex felt suddenly chilled. She shivered, feeling foolish.
Chapter 23
Before long the place was buzzing with activity. Colin Carson and his wife Marilyn arrived first and piled out of their Mercedes with bags, bottles and gifts. Johnny came out to greet them dressed in an outrageous Hawaiian shirt.
‘I see your taste in clothes hasn’t improved,’ observed Colin, grinning.
‘What do you mean? It’s a vintage shirt, this.’
‘Second-hand, then.’
‘Vintage.’
‘They only call it that so you’ll pay more for it now than it cost the blind lad who bought it first time round.’
Johnny opened his mouth to argue, but was drowned out by Motorhead’s
Ace of Spades
being belted out at high volume as a silver Porsche 911 Carrera Cabriolet slewed to a stop, spraying gravel, and Paul and Siobhan Scott jumped out.
‘You should not let that woman drive that car like that,’ Johnny roared by way of greeting when the ignition had been killed and he could be heard.
‘What was that, mate?’ asked Paul. ‘You’ll have to speak up. I can’t hear you for that shirt.’
‘You can talk,’ said Johnny, ‘you look like a bloody pirate.’
Alex took in Paul’s bandana and earring, and stifled a smile.
‘Get away with you, you wimp,’ exclaimed Siobhan, her accent still pure Belfast despite all the years she had spent living on the mainland. ‘You’d have all the fun taken out of everything if it was left up to you. I bet you’d have me dawdle along at the speed limit as well.’ She hugged him tight. ‘It’s good to see you, Johnny.’
‘I heard from Killer,’ said Paul as he got their bags out of the car. ‘He sends his apologies, he can’t make it.’
‘What is it this time?’ asked Johnny.
Paul grinned. ‘He got pissed with Drunk Monkey after the last gig on the tour. He’s just got out of nick. Him, Cross-eyed Murray and Evil Steve got banged up for being D and D in the middle of Paris. Got fished out of a fountain, would you believe. The
gendarmes
failed to see the funny side.’
‘Christ, not again. Was the Red Rage with him?’
‘Yes, indeed and she was also banged up.’
‘God almighty, she’ll make him pay for that,’ said Colin.
‘Strictly speaking, it’s all her fault. Apparently she was screeching at Killer, calling him a “fugwit” and punching him in the head ‘cos he wouldn’t get out of the fountain, and that’s what got the coppers’ attention in the first place.’
‘The Red Rage?’ Alex asked Christabel.
‘Killer’s assistant. She’s eastern European and she has … anger issues, shall we say. They fight constantly.’
‘Typical,’ said Johnny. ‘I warned him about Drunk Monkey. They earned their name the hard way.’
‘How come Plug Eric wasn’t with them?’ asked Colin. ‘It’s not like him to pass up the chance to get arrested.’
‘Why “Plug Eric”?’ asked Marilyn.
‘Do you remember The Bash Street Kids?’ asked Johnny. Marilyn nodded. ‘Well, he’s plug ugly … and he’s called Eric. He told me he looked in the mirror when he was a teenager and decided there and then to learn to play drums. He knew no one would let him out front but he reckoned he was too ugly not to be in a band. It was the only way he’d ever get a woman.’
‘What about Cross-eyed Murray and Evil Steve?’
‘Murray was hammered one time and he was convinced he’d gone cross-eyed because he couldn’t see straight. As for Steve, he’s one of the nicest lads you’ll ever meet, until he gets pissed. Then he turns into his own evil twin. And let’s face it, in that band, it’s Saintly Steve who’s the stranger.’
Marilyn rolled her eyes. ‘Musicians.’
Chrissie shot her a look, then changed the subject and introduced Alex to the women.
‘Usual rooms?’ asked Paul, after they’d said their hellos. Johnny nodded and they trooped off upstairs to get settled in.
By the time everyone wandered back out into the garden, Johnny had declared the barbecue ready to cook on, sprinkled soaked oak chips over the briquettes and started grilling kebabs and cuts of meat. Alex brought the salads out and placed them on the table next to the plates, cutlery and condiments; Chrissie made sure everyone had a drink and the party was underway.
A little later Alex was talking to Colin Carson while they ate their food in the shade of a big old oak tree.
‘Heartbreaker was a roller coaster ride from start to finish,’ he was saying. ‘Christ, we loved playing live. The buzz we got from the audience, it was electric. It just made us want to do more and better things, musically. We fired each other up, the whole thing fed on itself.’
Alex nodded. ‘I never saw you play live, but I’ve seen the Robson’s Farm footage. That’s incredible, electrifying. The power just jumps out of the speakers and off the screen.’