Music Man Pt. 01

"How did it go?" she asked.

Ged was happy that she had seemingly got over her annoyance, "Very well," he replied. "Better than last night. The manager gave me a thousand for doing it."

"A thousand!" she cried, with a huge smile. "For two nights' work? You ought to do it full time!"

"It looks like I could," he said quietly, fearing the reaction. He was right.

"What?" All the exhilaration had gone from her voice.

"Their manager offered me a permanent position with the band, subject to the band members agreeing."

"You're not going to do it, surely?" Her face had clouded with worry and a touch of anger. "You know how I feel about that bunch."

"Look, Cassie," he soothed. "It's too late to discuss it now. You're very tired and I'm dead beat as well. Saturday tomorrow. We'll have all day to think about it calmly. In any case, half the band don't like me, so it may never even be offered."

"Don't think you can talk me round on this one, Ged," she spat. "This idea is not going anywhere."

Ged was annoyed. "At least have the courtesy and consideration of seeing what the pros and cons are. I have an open mind about it, I thought you might have as well."

"Look, Ged," she said. "You don't know them as well as I do. They are no good; they have the morals of sewer rats."

"I'm going to bed," snapped Ged. "This discussion is over until tomorrow."

She did not come to bed after him, and he lay with their argument going round in his head. As he began to be drowsy, a half thought passed through his mind. How did she know the band so well? But he fell asleep immediately afterwards.

Ged awoke next morning to find the bed empty, though warm, so she had been to bed the night before. He rose, showered, dressed and went downstairs to the kitchen. Cassie was sitting at the kitchen table, fully dressed, with a mug of tea.

"OK," she said staring at him. "Talk."

"Good morning, Darling," he said sarcastically. "Did you sleep well Darling? Would you like a cup of tea Darling? Isn't it a beautiful morning Darling?" with which he sat down.

"OK, OK!" she said with the hint of a smile. "Sorry! Let me get you some tea," and she rose, poured him a mug and returned to the table to sit across from him.

"It's Saturday, Cassie," he reproached her gently. "We usually have a lie in together. We make love."

She coloured and dropped her eyes. "I've got to get on with my thesis; it's got to be at the binders by Friday."

"Well," he said, "Have you had any breakfast?"

"No," she said, glancing up at him.

"OK, you get to work and I'll toast you a bagel and bring you some coffee." He suggested it to put her on the spot and he succeeded.

"I waited to discuss this business of the Band."

"If you hadn't time for a kiss and a cuddle this morning, you haven't time for a discussion about our future. Go and do your work." Now he was pushing her.

"But-"

"Later," he said. "Get something done, and we'll talk when you need a break."

She shrugged and left the room. She was upset now. She awoke early in a foul mood, full of anger and recrimination against Ged and his news about the band. She knew it was cuddle day, but deliberately left the bed quietly, dressed and went down to think.

Her mood was no better when he arrived, but he took the wind out of her sails, and she had no answer for him. She had been remote from him and he had responded by being her loving boyfriend.

In the hallway, she stopped and then turned and went back.

He was still sitting at the table. She went to him and stood behind his chair, putting her arms round him and kissing his hair.

"I'm sorry!" she said, and this time there was genuine sorrow in her voice. "I was in a foul mood this morning, and I don't know why, except my period's due."

He pushed the chair back, and pulled her round to sit on his lap. "That's OK," he said. "We have the rest of our lives to make love. You take care of that thesis, and we'll talk at lunchtime."

She kissed him passionately on his lips. "I don't mind coming back to bed," she said breathlessly.

"No. We're both dressed now, go and get your work done. I'll make you a light breakfast." He was aware he sounded like a fussy parent.

She loved him for that. She was lucky to have him, she knew, though it did not take away her fears about Furtive Glance. She had the feeling that his involvement would lead to trouble, but she got up and did what she was told, and he brought her a boiled egg and toast cut into soldiers, with a cup of coffee, and ate his in the office with her.

She found it difficult to concentrate, and after a couple of chapters, she went in search of him. He was writing a song at the kitchen table.

"It's no use, Ged," she said. "I can't settle to my work with this hanging over us. Let's talk."

They went to the living room and sat together.

"Kiss me!" said Ged. "I need to know you love me before we start. I think we're going to disagree."

She kissed him voraciously, and he kissed her back with equal abandon. When they emerged, they smiled.

"Let me say something, my love," she opened. He nodded.

"Before I met you," she began hesitantly, "I dated one of the band."

Ged blinked and suddenly everything became clear. "Don't tell me, you went out with Zak Copthorne."

She looked surprised. "How did you know?"

"He hated my guts from the moment I walked in the room. No one hates that much on sight! Not when you're doing them a favour. So you knew the band through him?"

"Yeah. I watched them. Ged, they are animals. They're nasty to their fans, they picked up girls - in groups, for sex. It put me right off them as a band."

"But Zak must have been different."

"He assured me that after he knew me there were no other women. I believed him, fool that I was. I found him in bed with a blonde woman at a party at the end of second year. That finished me for him. He hasn't changed at all.

"I'm worried that if you get involved with that lot, you'll end up behaving like them. It's what sells the band. That's why I'm worried. OK? Now you."

"Cassie, my love," he spoke to her, looking into her eyes. "While you've been working this morning, I've been thinking. I think I've got my thoughts in order.

"I'm not happy with my job. They led me to think there would be creative work, something to stretch me. It's not like that. They lied. It's narrow, constricting and frankly utterly boring. The money is the only attraction."

She was surprised. She had no idea that he was dissatisfied.

"I am beginning to think that I want to devote my time to composing and writing music and lyrics. From the take-up on what I've written, I am writing stuff that means something, and that people want."

"That's true," she added. He grinned at her, and kissed her again.

"Well, there is not enough yet from my writing to keep us, or pay the mortgage or the bills. That's where Furtive Glance comes in. If they want me, I could join them.

"Gus and I know how to negotiate a deal. I could come away with a fifth of everything the band makes. I'm talking upwards of a million pounds. I've already improved their sound, and their manager definitely wants me."

Cassie was stony faced, but said nothing.

Ged went on, trying to convince her. "Look, all I have to do is go to their rehearsals and play at their gigs. I don't have to get involved with their activities apart from that. I've got you - I don't need their parties or their women, but I do need their money."

"So you mind is made up," she said angrily. "You're not considering me or my feelings or fears."

"Don't be silly, Cassie," he retorted, "of course I'm thinking of you. Look. Say you had all the money you would ever need for the rest of your life. What would you do? Stay in whatever job you had? Or write that novel you've been talking about. You could become a best-selling author. What about a book of your poetry? We have that possibility now."

"You realise you'll be away for weeks at a time?" she answered. "You know they say bands grow like each other, they adopt the same outlook. I'm worried that this is the end of us, Ged."

"So you want me to give up the chance of following my dream? OK. I'll do it. I love you too much. I'll carry on at my job. I'll carry on with my writing in my spare time. It's no problem and the more I write at home, the more money comes in. Eventually I'll be able to chuck the job in."

Silence. She knew perfectly well at that moment that he was gently blackmailing her, but in any case she couldn't do it. She couldn't let him pass up the chance of a lifetime. She knew clearly at that point that his future lay with music, one way or another. She wondered for a moment if his music came before her.

"No, my love," she said quietly. "You must take this chance. Only try to remember me when you're lost in your music. I'm afraid for us and our future, but you've got to do it."

"How could I forget you?" he answered. "Trust me, darling. I won't let you down. How could I? You're everything to me. And now, we missed our morning cuddle. Beat you to the bedroom!"

They raced for the bedroom, she pulling him out of the way, so she reached the bed first. They wrestled, and tickled, and eventually struggled out of their clothes.

--

Chapter Seven

On Monday morning, Ged saw his line manager at work and asked for unpaid leave for two more weeks. He cited an emergency, and the manager, who knew there was little work outstanding, granted his request.

Then he contacted Gus and told him of the developments during the previous week. Gus was interested and the two met for an hour before Gus phoned Leo and told him Ged was available for the last fortnight of the tour.

Leo was delighted, until Ged requested a meeting about the future, and asked him about the band's response to his joining the band. Leo knew there would be trouble, but agreed to the meeting.

After the Oldham gig, the band was taking a breather at their homes, and so it was easy to convene a meeting in a central city hotel. The band were surprised that Ged had his own agent, being unaware of his success as a writer.

"OK," Ged said, opening the meeting. "Josh phoned me and asked me if I had a fortnight free, because you lost your keyboard player. I'd already taken my holiday allowance from work, and so all I could manage was last weekend.

"After the two gigs, Leo asked me to consider, subject to the band agreeing, joining you for the next fortnight if I could get unpaid leave. It turns out that I can get unpaid leave of absence for the next fortnight.

"Now it's no skin off my nose if you decide you don't need or want me; I've got plenty to occupy my time, and I can go back to work and earn two weeks' salary, but if you do want me, you have to make up my lost earnings."

He sat back. The arguments began.

"Don't see why we need a keyboard, anyway," said Zak, gaining only half a nod from Amos, who had seen a big improvement in the band since Ged was playing, but wanted to be loyal to his best mate.

"Anyone with half an ear can hear the difference the keyboard makes, especially in the hands of Ged, and not just in those four pieces." asserted Joshua. "We've got more scope for a wider set of pieces. I want him in here."

"He's right Zak," added Peter. "It's a better sound. You know about this stuff, Leo, what d'you think?"

"I think Josh and Pete are right," the manager said with some diffidence, "but it's not my call - you have to live with each other. If it were me, I'd be looking to sign Ged up full time."

"Come on Amos," said Joshua, turning to Amos, who had been silent. "What do you think?"

"We could do without keyboards," he said judiciously, "but Josh is right about the sound - we do have more variety. And those four pieces - they don't sound right without the keyboard."

Zak shrugged and the others took that to be acquiescence.

"OK," said Leo, "How about we give you session money for the fortnight?"

"How about you cover my lost salary?" asked Ged.

"You have the figures?" asked Leo.

Ged passed him the sheet and a pay slip.

"Bloody Hell!," muttered Leo. "Is that what you earn?"

"That's right."

"I don't think we can match it," said Leo blandly.

"Fine," said Ged. "As I said, I don't need this. I'm quite happy at work." It was a lie, but this was negotiation.

Joshua looked at the figures. "Pay him," he said to Leo. "We'll take a cut."

"No we fucking won't!" Zak snapped. "I'm not giving up a penny. The rest of you can if you want."

"You fucking selfish cunt," shouted Peter. "You'll get ten times what he'll get for the next three gigs. We all share the cost. You just hate Ged. That's what it is! You bastard! You'd damage the band just to keep him out!"

"Shut the fuck up!" shouted Zak. "I'll go along with it this once, but after the two weeks, that's it! No more!"

Ged and Gus sat still, wondering if there would be a fight. As it cooled down, the contract was signed by all five and Ged was a temporary band member.

When he got home, he showed Cassie what the two week trip involved. There were two nights in Birmingham on Thursday and Friday, with practices Tuesday and Wednesday for an hour each time. Then overnight to Newcastle for a Gig on Saturday. Then a gap of three days before Norwich on Wednesday, and a final two gigs in south London Thursday and Friday.

"So you see," he pointed out, "I don't have to leave here until Thursday, and I'll be back here Saturday night - but late. Then I leave again on Wednesday early, and back again on Late Friday or Saturday morning. I take the car and that means I'm not tied to any foolishness on the band's part."

She was mollified by the itinerary, though she showed her misgivings about him being with the band.

The Wednesday practice was of necessity held at eight in the evening. It was the only time the practice room was available. It meant that it did not finish until after eleven, and while the rest went on to a club Ged drove straight home, arriving at eleven thirty, ready for bed and an early start.

He opened the front door of the flat to be greeted by a vision. Cassie was standing with one knee bent and the other straight facing the door. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore a crop-top which plunged between her breasts and stopped immediately under them. It was quite flimsy and showed the dark blue bra she wore under it. Her lower half was a very short skirt in denim, it was slung low on her hips and hardly covered anything of her thighs. There were clearly no stockings or tights, and on her feet were a pair of three inch heels with open toe, allowing her bright red painted toenails to shine out. She had one finger in her mouth and was sucking it.

"Hi, Mr Smith!" she pouted. "Would you give me your autograph? I really think you're buff."

Ged was dumbstruck for a minute at the vision and the acting. Then he realised she was putting on a show because he was going the next morning, but she had never done the lusting young nymph fantasy before. Well, if that was what she wanted, he'd certainly play along. She looked gorgeous and all her assets were practically on show.

"OK, girl," he answered. "Where do you want me to sign?"

"Oh, silly me!" she simpered. "I've left my autograph book at home. Would you sign my knickers?"

"Of course," he grinned. "You going to take them off for me?"

"You can sign them on," she sighed, "and then you could take them off, if you wanted. My little pussy would be naked then."

She lifted her skirt to reveal a thong. Nowhere to sign on her bottom.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she giggled, "I forgot I'm wearing a thong. Come to the bedroom and I'll lie down so you can sign the front!"

She preceded him upstairs, swinging her hips and showing her practically bare bottom. Reaching the bedroom she lay on the bed and opened her legs.

"Sign here!" she giggled again, giving him a pen and pointing.

Ged entered into the spirit of the thing, and pressed the pen against her slit, making as if to sign while finding her clitoris and rubbing it with the point.

"Ooh, Mr Smith," she cooed, "You're really turning me on, why don't you lose your pants and take down my knickers. I've always fancied you, you're so moody when you're playing."

He stripped and his cock was at full mast. As he reached for her thong, she kicked out at him, her face a mask of anger.

"You were bloody turned on by a groupie!" she shouted at him. "I knew it! You'll be fucking them just like the others!"

"What?" he was startled and mystified by the sudden change in her and didn't understand.

"You have the same perverted fantasy as the others - groupies!" she shouted.

He suddenly grasped her plan and in his turn was incandescent with rage.

"You stupid cow!" he bellowed. "It was your fantasy not mine! I was going along with your fucking fantasy!"

"Pull the other one!" she snarled at him. "It was the sexy outfit that turned you on!"

"Don't be stupid," he retorted, "It was you that turned me on. You! I've had enough of this. This pervert will get out of your fucking way. Go play with yourself. I don't want to look at you any more in that tart's uniform."

He stormed out of the bedroom to the other bedroom and shut the door with a crash. Then he sat on the bed and realised he was breathing heavily. He sat and collected himself, then stripped off the remainder of his clothes, and climbed into bed. He lay awake for a while, wondering how to deal with her obsession.

What he realised as he fell asleep was that he was in danger of losing the love of his life. He would do the fortnight and that would finish it, but she would not get off easily for this lack of trust.

Cassie, sat on the edge of the bed in tears. It had seemed so straightforward. She would pretend to be a groupie and seduce him. He would either repulse her showing he could be trusted, or he would go along with the seduction, and she would know that he could not.

Was it true what he said? He thought she was playing out a fantasy of her own, and played along? That it was she that he lusted after, not the young woman she portrayed? He was so angry; she had never seen him so angry. Was that defence or outrage?

With renewed sobbing she realised that she was no clearer about him and had actually made things worse by driving him away. She lay down and cried herself to sleep.

The next morning, Ged arose, crept into their bedroom and picked up his suitcase that he had packed the previous afternoon. He made himself a cup of tea and some toast, washed up and then left the flat without waking her.

Except that she had woken up as he made final preparations to leave. She sprang out of bed, forgetting she was still wearing the seductive outfit, and rushed out of the bedroom, only to see the door shut behind him. She opened it but he had already reached the bottom of the block's stairs and was gone.

The tears came again. She rushed to find her mobile, and found his short cut, but it went to voicemail - of course, he was driving and always shut his phone off. Then she realised what she was still wearing and was glad she had missed him, though the tears continued to flow because he was still so angry with her that for the first time since they had moved in together, he had gone without saying goodbye and kissing her as he always did.

That evening she knew he would be involved with the gig, and wondered if he would phone her after it finished. By one in the morning it was clear he was not going to phone, so she went to bed. The next morning at eight, she phoned him.

"Yes?" he barked.

"Ged, I'm sorry-"

"We'll talk when I get home." His words were clipped.

"How did the gig go?" she asked, wanting to connect with him somehow.