Heaven's Promise (17 page)

Read Heaven's Promise Online

Authors: Paolo Hewitt

‘Man, just tell her. If things are as strong as you say, then it will play, no doubt about it.'

The Brother P. was right. Life gives us many things but what it never allows us to do is turn back the hands of time, always a cause of eternal regret, and so I kept my counsel for the time being, and decided to wait for the right moment to arrive.

As I was doing so, the clear summer sky started carrying the scars of approaching autumn clouds, and it was as the season started to make its move, that a letter from Costello, of all people, landed on my doormat. Addressed to all Unity staff, it asked that we attend his office at four in the afternoon, that very day. After a trip Westward Ho to buy up some new tunes and shoot the breeze with whoever was hanging out down at Dillon's shop, I made my way to The Unity, me, myself and I being the last to reach. It was strange, I have to say, to see the club in full daylight, as it transformed it into a place that was slightly unfamiliar.

‘Ah, glad you could make it,' Costello said, as I made with the apologies and sat down with the rest of the staff on the tables and chairs by the ba r. The mood was down beat and downcast because, unknown to me, certain rumours had been flying around which did not point to a rosy future, a point Costello was able to confirm.

‘I have some very bad news,' he started and everyone now knew the worst was on its way. ‘The local council wish to terminate the club's licence and close it down. They wish to build a car park. I am very sad to tell you this but the matter has been voted on and, according to my solicitor, is final and binding.'

All of us stared dumb founded at this middle aged Greek guy who, despite all the bluff exterior was, when all was said and done, a decent man to be your wage payer, but at this moment, he looked sad and tired, as if all the years of his life had finally broken through onto his face and shoulders, and beaten him down and into submission.

‘I am currently looking for new premises but as this for this place...' Costello waved his hand vaguely around him and sat down. He had nothing more to say. The club he had run for seven years was like a second home to him and now the town's planners had taken it away from him. All his memories were to be crushed into the ground by the builder's machinery and there would be nothing left.

One of the staff, a young gal from Bristol called Kathy, who had come up to town to study hard during the day and earn some much needed cashola at night, was not about to stand for it. She shot up and demanded that we organise a petition, to be signed by all the regulars and ourselves, and then follow up with a march on the town hall.

Most people present shook their heads. Either they were not at all fazed by Costello's tragic news or they simply didn't believe, as was the country's present mood, in the value of protest, a concept that Mrs T. had successfully implanted in most people's minds.

‘So what do you say?' Kathy demanded of the assembled.

There was nothing but silence to answer her.

‘What is this?' she asked, puzzled by her silent work companions. ‘Doesn't anyone want to do something? Are we going to just sit back and let them get away with it?'

She had a fighting spirit that life had not been able to budge, and she also had a point that couldn't be denied, which was namely that if everyone always went with the greyer's demands, then gals, for example, wouldn't have the vote and the Vietnam war would probably still be in full swing.

Costello was not in a fighting mood. ‘These people,' he said wearily, ‘have made up their minds. All this area is to be turned into a shopping centre. It's wrong and, yes, we can protest but, believe me, they'll do what they want to do. There's too much money at stake. I'll just have to find another club.'

‘Don't say that,' Kathy implored, ‘don't give up without at least a fight. I know things look bleak but we can do something about it. I can get some leaflets made up at college and we can hand them out to people over the next few weeks, tell them what's happening. Or we could get in touch with the press and shame these bandits publicly. There's loads of things we can do but let's not give up just like that.'

‘You don't know these people,' Costello replied. ‘So I start another club somewhere else. It's no big deal, really. You can all come and work there when it's ready.'

‘Is that a promise?' Kathy shot back, ‘or are you going to let the Council decide who you employ or where you work? All of you lot,' she said, turning to look at us all, ‘are pathetic. I really can't believe you're going to let them do this without a fight. Let's at least get a petition up.'

‘If you want to do that, then it's in your hands Kathy,' Costello explained. ‘Meanwhile, we've got three weeks left before they move in. Now if you'll excuse me...'

Costello stood up and walked slowly to his office, closing the door gently behind him.

‘Well,' Jill said, ‘that's the end of that, then,' and as everyone started to gather round, I picked up my newly acquired tunes and made for the exit sign, followed by Kathy who angrily stalked past me.

I figured she wasn't my biggest fan in the world as the Sandra debacle had won me few favours with the women in the club, but I at least wanted to applaud her spirit.

‘You alright?' I asked. ‘No, are you?'

She was grim faced and about to boil over.

‘I just wanted you to know that I agreed with you back there.

If you need help with anything you only have to ask.'

‘Is that why you kept your mouth shut in there?'

‘I don't like to make snap judgements,' I explained. ‘What are you studying, anyway?'

‘The life and times of Fidel Castro,' she told me and as she did something seemed to snap in her brain because she suddenly stopped walking and turned to face me.

‘You might like to know that at one point Castro had an army of about twenty men fighting 30,000 soldiers. He didn't give in. He won the war. But then,' she finished her history lesson by looking me up and down, ‘he was a man. See ya.'

Kathy walked and, on an impulse, I decided to head up to nearby Regent's Park to find some peace and solace so as to gather up my thoughts whilst checking out the beautiful, and there is no other word, flower gardens they keep there which is one of my fave spots in town.

It was one of the boss things about this sprawling metropolis, for one minute you could be passing through an urban scenario so bleak that you wanted to shed a tear for all those families who had been crammed in and left to rot there, and then, before you knew it, you were standing in a nearby park, that was so serene and calming, it made you glad to be around to feel and see it all. I passed an hour away in the park with only my thoughts for company and what thoughts they were, a jumbled up kaleidoscope of mixed emotion and premonition for the future, and the realisation that just as my runnings had settled down to a very comfortable pace, life had once again upped the odds.

I couldn't help feeling that I was in static limbo, especially where work was concerned, for recently I had made up tapes of my some of my mixes and posted them off to a few pirate radio stations. That was weeks ago and I still hadn't heard a word, probably because the whole pirate scene was now overflowing with DJ's, all of whom had watched DJ groups, such as M/A/R/R/S or Bomb The Bass hit number one, and wanted in on the action. Costello's bombshell hadn't helped, either, for what if he didn't find new premises or, worse still, herded together a brand new staff to help him with his new venture.

Summer was starting to close in on me and I needed a voice to reassure me, to tell me that every little thing would be alright, and there was only one candidate for the job. I went and belled Indigo.

‘Hi, babe, what you doing?'

‘Studying. You alright?'

‘Not really, can I come over?'

‘Why, what's up?'

‘Just some news which I wish I hadn't heard.'

‘Well, give me a couple of hours to finish off this essay before coming. It should have been in yesterday. Is that alright?'

‘Not really. I've got to go home and pick up my tunes. I'm working tonight.'

‘I'll pop down the club then. It's about time I did.'

I didn't dare hesitate in my reply or Indigo, who is sharp when it comes to these matters, would have pounced on me straight away. She knew me that well.

‘Well, it won't be a particularly great night. Wednesdays never are.'

‘That's alright, I feel like a bit of a night out. It feels like I haven't stopped working. I'll come for about ten, okay?'

‘I might not be able to talk to you. JJ isn't coming down and I've got to do the whole shift.'

‘Scared I might not like your DJ'ing?'

‘That isn't it.'

‘I'll check you about ten. You sure you're alright?'

‘Yeah, I'll be fine. We'll talk later.'

‘You can tell me now.'

‘Nah, it's cool. But don't come if it's going to interfere with your study.'

‘I told you, I'll be finished soon. I wouldn't do that anyway. My degree is much more important than you are.'

‘Thanks, babe. I feel the same way about my record collection.'

‘Lonely wanker.'

‘Yes, indeed. Check you later.'

‘Bye darling.'

As you know I didn't want to run the risk of Indigo coming to the club and hearing about the Sandra incident but now I had no choice for my hand had been forced, and so I promised myself that on this very night, after the dance was through, I would lay bare everything to her and damn the consequences.

That night, I reached The Unity early, set myself up in the booth and went in search of Jill who I found taking a quick drink at the bar before the faces started arriving in numbers.

‘Jill, a friend of mine is coming down tonight...'

‘Oh yeah,' she pointlessly interjected.

‘And I'd really appreciate it if no one mentioned Sandra or any of that business to her. Know what I'm saying?'

Jill arched her eyebrows. ‘Why not?' she asked.

‘Because I haven't told her anything yet and I plan to lay it on her tonight, after the club. Can you help me out on this one?'

‘I might be able to,' she replied. ‘Sandra says you haven't been to visit yet.'

‘Yeah, well the best laid plans of mice and men and all that.

I'm going to sort that out soon as well.'

‘Might be a good idea, loverboy.'

‘So not a word, okay?'

‘I said, I'll see what I can do. Now, if you don't mind, both of us have got work to do.'

I went back to the booth and started laying down some relaxed tunes, such as Lowrell's ‘Mellow Mellow,' and Kool and the Gang's ‘Summer Madness,' so as to build the calm before the storm, for DJ'ing is akin in some ways to the art of romping. You have to start off slowly, get everyone feelin' fine before you gear up with the tunes that you know will shake everyone into action.

I was just moving onto another level when Jasmine and Stinga appeared, both of them j ust popping in for an hou r before heading off to Ronnie's to catch Art Blakey's last set of the night.

After the intros were through, Jasmine began skinning up whilst Stinga, still in his Thelonious Monk drag, stood quietly by. Just as Jasmine was lighting up the first of the night, Indigo appeared, dressed up in a very fetching outfit of Levi's cut offs and a white vest. I tried to keep down the nerves in my voice and made with the greetings.

‘Hi baby. This is Jasmine and Stinga.'

‘Hi, pleasure to meet you. So this is where you get off to every week.'

‘Yep, this is the place and it's got three weeks of life left in it. Costello told us this afternoon. They're pulling it down.'

‘Is that true?' Jasmine put in.

‘Afraid so.'

It was at precisely that point that Jill made her entrance.

‘Hello everyone,' she announced in a. voice that was far too cheery for its own good. ‘Heard about the club?'

‘I was just telling them all about it.'

‘Shame isn't it? Still, life will go on.'

I had no desire to introduce Indigo but it was one of those awkward moments when you have no option but to go against your better judgement, and so, ‘Oh, Jill this is Indigo. Indigo, Jill.'

‘Hi, I've heard a lot about you,' she lied. ‘What do you think of his daughter, then. Beautiful isn't she?' You know those times in life when you have to tell yourself this really isn't happening to me, and you know that mix of growing despair when you realise that it is? Well, double that feeling and you now know exactly how I felt.

‘I'm sorry,' Indigo said, her face one of pure puzzlement. ‘Did you say daughter?'

‘That's right,' Jill replied as if nothing on this earth could be more natural. ‘His daughter. Haven't you.... Oh, I am sorry. That's me all over. Putting my foot in my mouth. Anyways, work to do. Good to meet you at last.'

Indigo turned to me with an expression of such pure sadness and anger that it broke my heart in two just to catch sight of it, and that first night when she had cried in my arms after being betrayed flashed back to me.

I went to say something but Indigo stopped me right away. ‘Don't,' she commanded, before turning and walking straight out of the club. Jasmine passed me the spliff and then touched Stinga on the arm.

‘I think we better be going. The set is starting soon. We'll check you later, alright? I mean, jf you want to come round later, that'll be cool, you know.'

‘Thanks, I know.'

‘Take care. Corne on, Stinga.'

Mumbling his goodbye, Stinga and Jasmine departed, leaving me to it. I desperately wanted to go find Indigo but to be God's honest, I couldn't move a muscle for I was literally nailed to the floor and, for a few dazed and agonising minutes, I really didn't know what was what.

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