PUNKS Ch. 07: Angels Of A Lesser God

Joe and T return to the present day after she broke off their affair in NYC

September 1992

Joe was grateful when he boarded a plane for Dublin to launch City of Angels' second European tour. Since Tina had hung up the phone in tears, breaking off contact, he had a weeks-long case of the blues. His bandmate Chico called it Joe's darkness. He'd withdraw socially, be difficult to reach, and when you did connect Joe was a different version of himself, too quiet. He did a poor job of concealing his melancholy from his bandmates as they prepared for Europe. They were accustomed to his moods. They rarely intervened because Joe never cared to discuss his personal life with his best friends. He was weird like that.

Settled into their first-class seats aboard British Airways flight 1290 out of JFK, Chico was the only one willing to ask Joe about his latest funk.

"Bro, you've been super quiet since our last time in New York. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Joe said. "Just lost in my own head."

"Nah. I know your lost in thought moods. This is more than that."

"I'm good, Chi. Must I always be on? I'm keeping to myself, thinking about this tour and what comes after. I'm writing songs for the next album."

Chico adjusted himself sideways to look at Joe. He kept his voice low, but not his tone. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to? I know you better than anyone. For one thing, we just spent three days in New York and you didn't pull a Houdini on us." He paused. "If you didn't see Tina, something's up."

Joe looked out the window as the plane pulled away from the gate without responding to his best friend's on-the-nose comment. He was tempted to fess up, to tell Chico what was happening, but didn't want first-class to overhear his tale of sinning and woe.

Chico sat back and fastened his seat belt. "She dumped your sorry ass, again - didn't she? What did you expect would happen? She's married. You had no chance."

Joe turned to Chico. "Dump me? How can she dump me? Like you said, she's married."

Chico looked at Joe with a smirk. "Dude, everyone knows you're banging her. You disappear every time we're in New York. We don't need a detective to crack the case."

"Well, that's over," Joe looked out at the tarmac. "She got a severe case of guilt after Radio City."

"Was that so hard?" Chico patted Joe on the shoulder. "Admitting you have a problem is the first step in recovery. You need to get off that chick and onto another. A few cities in Europe might set you straight."

"That's the plan, Beaner. We have four nights in London. I don't intend on sightseeing this time."

"Good." Chico patted Joe's arm. "Have Simon hook you up with one of his birds."

The five-week Euro tour was twenty-four dates in twenty-one cities over thirty-six days. It was a slog. They sold out three shows around London, two at the front of the tour and one at the back end.

Joe had last visited Simon the week Guerilla Records opened his Islington studio a year and a half ago. Back in town again, just down the street from the newest Guerilla Records office, Joe and Simon hung out in the Hope & Anchor, a pub with a famous punk rock past. Simon's eyes bugged out after Joe made a confession.

"Hang on." Simon held a finger up. He leaned close to hear Joe over The Clash playing on the jukebox. "Can you please repeat that?"

"I had an affair with Tina."

"Bloody hell. How could you - knowing how she is?"

"She initiated it, Si. I would never make a first move."

"Oh no." He wagged a finger. "I know your game. She's crazy about you. I'll wager a hundred quid you lured her into your charm trap."

"That's not how it happened." Joe took a sip of beer.

Simon leaned closer, inches from Joe's face, "That night at the Beacon, I saw the way she looked at you; backstage, on the bus, and in the diner. You couldn't keep your eyes off each other. I honestly thought it was good you'd be out of town in two days."

"Well, it only took her one day to invite me to her place."

"You went to her place?" Simon's brow over-furrowed, "and you expect me to believe you had no idea what was coming?"

"She said we were going out for brunch," Joe said. "If anyone fell into a trap, it was me."

"Going out for brunch at her place? That's not what I call a well-disguised ambush." He pointed a stiff finger at his friend's face. "You were hoping to bed her; of that I am certain."

Joe and Simon went back and forth. Joe tried to convince Si he didn't lead Tina into temptation but Simon wasn't buying any of Joe's bullshit. It was bullshit, and Joe knew it. Simon ordered two more pints just as Joe dropped the sin of sins on his mate.

"You shagged her in her marriage bed?" Simon's eyes bugged out, again. "The bed her husband sleeps in?"

Joe didn't reply. He casually downed the remainder of his second pint of Boddingtons, then stared back at Simon.

Simon called the bartender. "Two shots of Jameson with those pints."

Joe continued with his tale of infidelity, the chapter at The Carlyle Hotel, and Tina's overnight mistake on his tour bus that led to her cutting contact with him. He emphasized that in each case Tina said there would be no fooling around - but then made the first move.

"I love you, brother." Simon said. "but I can't give you an atta-boy slap on the back for giving your ex, a married woman, a good rogering. You say you love Tina, yet you were willing to hurt her - for what; a good shag for old time's sake? With her faith, you knew how that would fuck with her head."

"Piss off, Si. Even if I knew she'd jump my bones, it was her choice to be there, and I just told you how she made all the moves. I didn't lure her into anything."

When the pints and shots landed in front of them, Simon raised his shot of whiskey. He glared at Joe, not knowing what to toast. Finally, he came out with it. "Here's to keeping my nose out of your fucked up love life."

"I'll drink to that," Joe said, then downed his shot.

"I wish you hadn't told me. T is my friend too. If she cut you off, she's not well. Adultery is a big one. She takes all that religious crap way too seriously."

"She's a Catholic," Joe said flippantly. "confess and move on. Sin again. Confess. Rinse and repeat."

"If T heard you say that she'd do more than cut you off."

"Si, it would appear she doesn't take that Catholic morality crap as seriously as we previously thought," Joe said while raising a fresh pint to his lips. "That's all I'm saying."

Joe looked across the room at two women who'd been conspicuously watching them, then abruptly changed the subject. "Hey, what's Shelley up to these days?"

"Oh, you want to fuck another married woman?"

"She's married?"

"With a kid." Simon looked into Joe's eyes. "Stay the fuck away. Her husband is a good bloke." He motioned across the room. "Those two over there, Grace and Hannah, they're your type - fans of your band."

"Yeah." Joe looked in that direction again. "They've been eyeballing us for an hour."

"Gracie is the ginger. She's shy, but once she gets to know you..."

"And you're good with Hannah?"

"Hannah and I have a roll in the sheets on occasion." Simon leaned in. "Gracie's a big fan, Joe. She's just not the type to come at you. She's sweet, exactly your type."

Joe maintained his gaze across the pub at the two lovely young ladies exchanging glances with him since they arrived. When Grace looked his way, he smiled. She smiled and turned to her friend.

Joe slid off his bar stool. "I'm going in."

"I'll sit back and observe. Once Hannah realizes you're interested in Grace, she'll make her way over here. I'm sure of it." Simon nodded as Joe walked away.

Joe watched as the two women followed his movement around the bar. When he turned toward them, Grace whispered to Hannah and then turned to Joe as he walked up.

"Hi, I'm Joe." He smiled. "You know my friend over there, right?"

"Everyone knows Simon," Hannah said. "He practically owns this place. And we know you."

"Not really," Joe said.

"We know who you are," said Grace. She hid her smile by sipping her beer.

"Si said I should come over and introduce myself, so here I am." Joe gestured to an empty chair. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"No, not at all." Grace smiled. "Please do."

Joe pulled the chair out and sat between them, clearly closer to Grace. "Allow me to buy a round." He turned towards the bar and got the attention of the barkeep, pointing to the girls and holding up three fingers. He turned to Grace.

"You're Grace, and Si says you like my band," Joe offered his hand. "That's why he insisted I come over and say hello."

Grace took his hand. "I love your music. Simon told me all about his time playing with you, years ago."

"She has your old records too," said Hannah. "Simon made sure of that."

Joe turned to her. "And you're Hannah. Pleased to meet you." He returned to Grace. "So, which do you prefer, the work Simon and I did as kids, or my new band?"

"They're so different," she said. "I liked City of Angels first, so I have to say them. The Young Punks are good too, especially the Feed The Rich album.

"Your old stuff is raw punk." Hannah noted, "it's a bit harsh." She made a face for emphasis.

"Your new record is amazing." Grace beamed. "Every song is tops. That's so rare. Most albums have two or three weak songs, but The Republic is good from start to finish. I love Shadow of Doubt and Sleeper - and Pink Velvet."

"Pink Velvet is one of my favorites too, but it won't be getting any airplay."

Grace blushed. "No. Even the innuendo is too much for the Tories."

"Uptight cunts!" Hannah blurted. "They live in the bloody dark ages."

It didn't take long for Joe to see Grace was as sweet as Simon claimed. He found Hannah a bit harsh. Then, as Simon predicted, she magically excused herself after the round of beers arrived and walked over to sit with him, leaving Joe with Grace. She was sweet, and soft-spoken, but got a little excited talking about music. She was precisely Joe's type.

"Are you coming to the show tomorrow night?" he asked.

"Yes, but we have terrible seats." Grace frowned. "I'm not complaining, but the tickets are expensive and I can't afford close seats."

"I'm sorry," Joe said. "From our record label to the promoters, down to the band and road crew; there are just too many mouths to feed - but I can fix that for ya," Joe said. "If you'd like."

"But it's sold out."

He smiled, then leaned close. "Sshhh, keep this quiet. I know someone in the band."

Joe enjoyed his conversation with Grace. She was lovely, smart, and funny in a cute way. He wanted to reach out and touch her long red hair and milky white skin. Joe got lost in her green eyes, staring into them as she talked about her love of music. Her pouty lips looked soft and so kissable. He sensed she'd welcome an advance, but Joe learned over the years to never make assumptions. In his experience, if a girl wanted him, she'd make it clear, one way or another. Joe lost track of time. His pint was empty. When he looked back to the bar, Simon and Hannah were gone. He turned back to Grace.

"Where did they go?"

"Well, they sort of, ya know." She blushed. "Every now and again."

"Oh, I see. I had no idea." Joe paused. "So, it's just us."

"I guess it is." She smiled shyly. "Would you like to go someplace else?"

"Sure," he said. "This is your town. How about you lead me wherever you wish."

After paying his check, Joe put his arm out for Grace to take. She led him out of the pub and north on Upper Street with a beaming smile, telling Joe how Islington is becoming a posh part of town.

"It's getting harder to live here. Rents are rising and people are moving out. The borough is changing."

"That's happening all over the states too."

"I love it here. I don't want to move house."

A few blocks into their walk, she stopped in front of an old three-story building with scaffolding set up against it. Grace looked up. "This is my flat. They're fixing it up. I hope my rent doesn't go up too." On the street level was a haberdashery, and above it, two residential floors. "Would you like to see how little money buys these days?"

"I'd love to," he said. "It's fascinating seeing how people live in other countries. It's better than sightseeing, and I like that too."

Grace opened a weathered door alongside the men's shop that could use some fresh paint. Inside the building, Grace led Joe up a narrow flight of stairs to a long hallway that went far back. Hers was the last flat on the left. When she opened the door, Joe walked into a wonderland of English normalcy. He glanced around her tiny kitchen with a table for two. A copy of The Sun tabloid was folded on the table. Her stove was half the size of his back home, with a kettle to make a proper cup of tea. Glass jars of tea lined the countertop. Her living room had a loveseat sofa, an easy chair, and a stereo, but no television. Crowded shelves suggested Grace was a bookworm. Joe stopped to look at her shelves of music CDs.

"As you can see, it's small," she said almost apologetically, "but it's mine."

Joe peeked into her tiny bathroom. "It's lovely. Who needs more than this?"

"My sister says Americans live in giant houses."

"Some do, most don't."

"And you?"

"Believe it or not, I live in an apartment above storefronts, just like you."

"Really?"

"It's true, but I own the building."

"That's not the same," she smiled, "and I bet it's a lot nicer than this."

"It doesn't suck, and I'm close to the beach." Joe looked around and pointed to a closed door. "And that room is the room with all the things you told me about."

"Yes." Grace scrunched her nose, "I don't think you should look in there."

"Well, now I must look. It's almost like you want me to."

"I must warn you, this is going to be very embarrassing for me."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

When she opened the door, Joe immediately understood. On the wall opposite the entry, a City of Angels poster hung above her desk. When he walked into her bedroom, he looked left to see an 8X10 black and white live concert photo of him on another wall. Thankfully, there were also

photos of Joe Strummer, David Bowie, and Tears For Fears.

"I live like a teenager," she blushed. "It's not very different from the room I had at Mum's."

"You're not a teenager, right?"

"No, I completed university four years ago."

"It's not embarrassing, Grace. It's kinda nice."

"My friends call me Gracie."

"Okay, Gracie."

Grace moved closer to Joe, looked up, and smiled. "So, we're friends?"

"I think once you invited me into your home we became friends."

Joe looked at the framed posters and photos in the room. Grace clearly liked horses. There were several framed photos of horses, Grace with horses, and her riding a horse.

Gracie stood close, looking up at Joe. "I have a confession."

"Okay, but I wasn't interrogating you. So you don't have to confess to any crimes."

"When I met Simon a couple of years ago and he told me about the times you played together in New York, I asked him if he ever sees you anymore. I made Simon promise that I would meet you the next time you came to London."

"I was here last year for his studio opening."

"And I was in the highlands at my cousin's wedding." Grace half blurted out, revisiting past frustration. "When Simon told me you were coming and I saw the dates clashed, I almost cried. I was miserable the whole weekend."

"So you planned this," Joe looked at her walls again, "luring me to your strange punk rock and equine shrine?"

"Not exactly. Simon said the Hope & Anchor was your favorite spot. So we were there last night, but you didn't show."

"Our fight arrived very late. We went straight to the hotel. Simon and I closed the hotel bar."

"As soon as we got off work today Hannah and I were there, and so were you." She stepped closer. "I was so happy to see you. I couldn't believe it."

"And Simon suggested I go speak to you because he had to keep his promise."

"He did. Simon kept his promise." Gracie reached for Joe's face, pulled him down, and kissed him, not hard, not soft, right in the middle of passion and tenderness. Joe's arms went around her. He pulled her in.

Gracie wrapped her legs around Joe, her arms behind his neck, he held her up with his hands under her round bottom. Gracie's hands held Joe's hair as she probed his mouth with her tongue. Joe took a step toward the bed, and one stride later he was lowering her to the bed. Kisses landed on his lips the whole way down.

As their weight hit the mattress, hands were unbuttoning things. Joe flipped the top three buttons of her silky work blouse, kissed her neck, and slid lower as more buttons were popped, Gracie reached down to unbuckle Joe's belt. She pulled the zipper of his jeans down. Joe reached around to effortlessly unclasp Gracie's bra. He threw it behind them, cupped her right breast in his hand, and sucked her already-taught nipple. Gracie had round milky white tits, more than a handful, with large perky pink nipples.

Gracie' pushed his denim down, removing Joe's Levis, he helped by lifting himself and then kicked his jeans off the bed. Gracie's hands found the bulge in Joe's boxer briefs. She ran her fingers from the tip to his balls and back. Then Gracie massaged Joe's head through his cotton blend. Joe moved to Gracie's sister tit and nipple, giving equal time.

Joe moved up, kissed her neck, and then found Gracie's mouth with his. Their hands met at her pants, he undid Gracie's belt as she unzipped. Her pants found the floor near Joe's Levis.

Gracie used a wrestling reverse move to put Joe on his back with her leaning over him. Her hand slid under his elastic and found his fat head. She pushed his briefs down and looked at Joe's cock, her fingers running up the shaft.

She looked Joe in the eyes. "You have to be gentle with me. You have a big cock."

"I won't hurt you, I promise."

Gracie slid down, and kissed Joe on the chest, then tummy. Both hands were on cock and balls when her lips found the tip of Joe's head with pre-cum. She licked it off and took his fat throbbing head into her mouth. Joe laid back on her pillows, his hands went to her head, fingers lightly touching her, tangled in her hair. Gracie sucked only his head for a long, long while, in a steady rhythm that made Joe think she might get him off too soon. Then she took the plunge down Joe's long, fat cock. Gracie's lips slid down his shaft, stretching around his girth. She pushed as deep as she could go and that became her next stroke, from head to her comfortable depth, over and over in a steady beat that impressed Joe. Gracie knew what she was doing and it wasn't a race.

Rule one: Never interrupt a woman who's sucking your cock. Just don't.

Joe waited for Grace to take a breath, which was a long while. When she did he pulled a reverse wrestling move that put him on top, his rock-hard cock pressed against her tummy, her hands still on it. Joe kissed her. Gracie's hands went to his hair as Joe slid down, paying a visit to breasts and nipples, suckling, his fingers slipped into Gracie's panties to find her very wet. The crouch of her panties was moist. His fingers slid between her lips, becoming moistened by her juice, Joe's fingers moved down, probing lightly inside her pinkness, teasing penetration. Grace yelped as he pushed two fingers inside her while he sucked on her hard pink nipples.

Joe moved up to kiss Grace hard as his fingers moistened inside her. He found her soft spot, the button, and lightly focused his fingers on the soft spongy zone. With his fingertips working inside her, Joe slipped down, kissing Gracie's milky white tummy. His stiffened tongue probed into Gracie's navel, she pushed back because it tickled. He slipped lower, running his tongue through her trimmed tuft of fine red hair, where he breathed in. She smelled so nice; from her body to her products, and her juices, Grace was wonderful.