Chapter 12 I Hear A Symphony
I HEAR A SYMPHONY
MICK
Staring into the small square mirror on my bedroom wall, I messed around with my hair, trying to get it to sit right. My thick ginger hair wasn’t doing what it was supposed to do, and it was pissing me off.
“Fuck it,” I mumbled to myself and turned to my wardrobe.
Retrieving the hanging tie rack that lived in there, I looked for my favourite–a red silk one with a subtle floral design on it.
It wasn’t there. Why wasn’t it there? Where the fuck could it be?
I peered down to the floor of the wardrobe, but there was nothing but an ancient brown suitcase and a couple of pairs of shoes perched on top of it.
Stepping across my cramped bedroom to the chest of drawers, I rummaged in the top drawer. Cravats, hankies, cuff links, tie pins, no red tie.
“For fuck’s sake,” I grumbled. I scoured the room trying to find it, getting more and more pissed off as it didn’t appear in each place I searched. Getting down on my hands and knees, I peered under the bed, but it wasn’t bloody there either. Where could the damned thing be?
I yanked open my bedroom door and shouted into the hallway. “Ma! Have you seen my red tie?”
“Michael MacDonald! What have I told you about screaming through this house like a banshee?” my mother bellowed.
“I haven’t got time for this, Ma. I’ve lost my favourite tie, and I’m going to be late. Do you know where it is or not?”
In a last-ditch attempt to find it, I yanked back the curtains and scanned the corners of the window sill. Stomp, stomp, stomp sounded on the stairs, followed by my door crashing against the wall and my mother appearing in my doorway. All five foot nothing of her was fuming.
“Michael Dermot Connor Matthew MacDonald.”
I winced. She used my full name–including my confirmation name–which meant I was in real fucking trouble.
“I don’t care if His Holiness the Pope gave you that tie. There is nothing in this world or the next that gives you the right to talk to your mother like that. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Mum. I’m sorry.” I meant it too, I never spoke to her like that.
“Least said, soon as mended.” She nodded, and I knew that to be the end of it.
“Now, is this what you’re looking for?” She held up her hand and presented the exact tie I’d been combing my room for.
“You found it! Thanks, Ma! Where was it?” I asked, tying it round my neck in a half Windsor.
“I had it downstairs with the washing. There was a stain on it. I know how you are with your clothes, so I worked my magic and got it out.”
A twinge of guilt flashed through me.
“Ma, I love you! You’re the best mam in the whole world, you know that?” I grabbed my jacket off the hanger on the door handle of my wardrobe and shrugged into it, then leaned down and pecked a kiss on her cheek.
“Oh, get on with you.” She made a show of pushing me away, but she couldn’t hide the blush. My mother worked bloody hard keeping three grown men fed, clothed, and out of trouble, and she didn’t get enough credit for it.
“Alright, Ma, I’m off out now. I’ll be home late, so don’t wait up.”
“I shan’t. Enjoy your gallivanting and don’t break any poor girl’s heart.”
Wincing internally, I tried not to think too hard about her words. Lying to my mam was horrible, but there was no possible way I could ever tell her the truth.
“I won’t.” I smiled and waved as I dashed past her, down the stairs, and out the front door. I kept up the brusque pace all the way to the tube station, eager to get to where I was going.
I hadn’t felt this revved up about seeing a band for ages.
To be honest, I hadn’t been to a gig in ages, either.
All the gang had said yes, which had shocked the hell out of me.
Everyone was buzzing, it had been months since we’d been out as a group.
Finding a day when seven adults with their own lives, jobs, and whatever else, were all free was a pain in the arse.
Finding a day that also coincided with something interesting happening was nigh on impossible. But the time had finally arrived.
I spoke to Michael on the phone yesterday to make sure he was still coming.
Despite his worries about spending time with a “bunch of kids,” he’d promised me he would be here.
He was bringing a friend his own age. The silly sod was so worried about his age, and I had no idea why.
Thirty-eight wasn’t old. Well it could be, I supposed.
It depended on what kind of thirty-eight you were.
Thirty-eight could be a grumpy father of three wondering where his life had gone.
Or it could be someone old enough to know better but willing to do it anyway for a laugh. Michael was the good kind.
Knowledge and experience made him fun and exciting. Especially in bed. My word, that man knew his way around a dick.
Okay, I needed to not think about him like that, which was getting more and more difficult the more time I spent with him.
He’d always been good-looking, but I’d never wanted him in that way.
Not until our night together. Now every time I saw him, I started mentally undressing him.
I’d undressed him in my head so many times I’d be able to do it in three seconds flat.
But I’d rather take my time, stretch the whole process out so he’d be a gibbering mess by the time he was naked.
I wondered idly if I’d get a chance to put theory into practice any time soon.
“Oi! Ginger!” A loud shout behind me shook me out of my thoughts. For fuck’s sake, I did not need some prick on the street ruining my night before it had even started. I picked up my pace and carried on, hoping that ignoring the idiot would make him fuck off.
I was bashed from behind, and before I could react, someone crashed into my left arm, then an arm came around the back of my right shoulder. Bracing myself for a beating, I was bloody surprised to hear the sound of my best friend’s laughter.
Looking to my right, I saw Tommy, whose arm was slung around my back.
“You prick, I thought I was about to get my arse handed to me.”
“Nah, just thought it’d be a fun way to say ‘hello’.” Tommy grinned and tightened his arm around me.
Frank, who had been the one on my left, bumped shoulders with me. “Why be boring, eh?”
“Yeah. When you can be violent instead, you mean?” I grumbled.
“Violent?” Frank elbowed me in the ribs. “Behave. Some of us have experienced actual violence you know.” The group went silent, with everyone trying not to look at Eric, who had been the victim of a nasty attack last year.
“Yes, and I’d like to point out that I was strongly against this course of action and told them they were all being very silly and childish.
” Eric’s clipped vowels and posh accent came from the other side of Tommy.
“I wasn’t too worried, though. If you thought you were under attack, you could have taken either of them! ”
Tommy and Frank started shouting and gesturing wildly at Eric.
“I told them not to behave like silly little boys,” said a feminine voice. The silly boys in question grumbled. “Which of course spurred them on.” Sissy shoved Frank out of the way and linked her arm into mine.
“Hello, Sissy.” I gave her a kiss on the cheek.
Looking around at my friends, I noticed someone was missing. “Where’s Alan and Davey?”
“Meeting us there,” Tommy answered. “Davey’s driving the Cortina, obviously. And Alan’s bringing his new bird, so I reckon he thought the less time she had to spend with us, the better.”
“Clever chap,” added Eric.
“Very,” I agreed. “What are you two doing all the way out here?” I asked The Frankies. “You live about five minutes’ walk from The Palais.”
“We were at my mum and dad’s. Gran’s visiting and we needed to tell her–” Frank swallowed his words with a grunt as Sissy elbowed him in the stomach.
“Um… We needed to tell her about… About my latest project at work,” Frank finished. Before anybody could question him, Sissy changed the subject.
“So what’s this band like then? What are they called?” She sent a sideways glance at Frank.
“The Adders. I’ve not heard their music, but Michael said his mate said they’re alright,” I answered.
“Glowing praise indeed.” Eric said dryly.
“Well, you never know. They could be the next Who or Small Faces.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Frank conceded. “It’s nice to see everyone together anyway. Even if they’re shit, it’ll be worth it because I get to spend time with you shower of twats.”
“My husband, the wordsmith,” Sissy said with a laugh. Frank let out an offended grunt but smiled again when she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a big kiss on the cheek.
The insults and teasing carried on like that all the way to the bus stop and for the whole journey to Ilford. It was great.
“You feeling alright?” Tommy asked me just as we were getting off the bus.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why d’you ask?”
“Dunno, you just seem a bit off. You were quiet on the bus.”
“So me being quiet is cause for concern?”
“Well, yeah. I’m not being funny mate, but I’ve never known you to be quiet for two minutes together unless something was bothering you.”
“I’m fine. I dunno, tired maybe?”
“Alright.” Tommy didn’t push it any further, which I was grateful for. He was right on both counts; I had been quiet on the bus and that was bloody unusual for me. But I had no clue why. I felt a bit nervous–my belly was flopping all over the place–but I couldn’t begin to say why.
I didn’t have any time to dwell on it, because The Palais was a few hundred yards from the bus stop. When we got there, Davey was waiting for us.
“Is this the place?” Davey asked as a greeting.
“Yes, Davey,” Tommy replied. “Did the great big sign that says ‘Ilford Palais’ not give it away?”
“Alright, Tommy, no need to be a dickhead.”