Chapter 6 #2
Jock knew who we were. His daughter had recognised us when she was working behind the bar one night and sent him over for autographs. We’d asked them to keep it quiet, donated to buy the pubs football team a new kit and given Jeannie, his daughter, a pile of signed merchandise and an album.
“Cheers, Jock. How long they been here?” I asked.
He looked at his watch and gave a small shrug. “Since about six. There were two more, but I had to throw them out for being underage,” he said quietly in his soft, Scottish accent.
“Those four have got ID’s, but they’ve all only just turned eighteen, except for the brunette talking to Maca, she’s older. You boys watch yourselves.”
“We will. Cheers again, Jock.”
I headed towards the pool table, smiling at the three girls trying to artfully prop themselves at the bar and note that they all looked a bit …
soapy, as my dad would say. That didn’t mean they were covered in bubbles if that’s what you’re thinking.
It meant that they looked like they could do with a good wash, and I don’t care what ID they’d flashed at Jock.
Not one of them seemed to be more than fifteen or sixteen.
Now I know I was only just nineteen myself at that stage, and a bit of an animal, but jailbait was not my thing, and something I was extra careful about after Whorely Gate.
Not that she’d been underage or anything.
She was actually a few years older than us, but after that incident, the label had sent one of their female execs to give us ‘The Talk.’ Basically she told us to always practise safe sex, always make sure we were aware of the age of consent, depending on which country we were in, (especially places like the US, where it can vary from state to state), and never, ever let anyone film or take pictures of you in the act.
It hadn’t slowed down the amount of women I’d slept with, but I was very aware of who I slept with and tended to go with the girls that looked older rather than younger, just to be safe.
I passed Maca his drink and held mine up so we could say cheers. We both knew what the date was. He’d been very quiet and looked extra sad. I silently wished my sister a happy birthday and took a swig from the bottle.
“This is Siobhan,” Maca introduced her, tilting his beer bottle towards her, then to me.
“Siobhan, this is Marley.” She looked me over, every inch, with the most amazing blue eyes.
“Siobhan.” I nodded towards her. “Isn’t that Irish? Sounds like it should be spelt S, H, E, V, O, N, but instead has a B or some random letter in it?”
“That’s right,” she said with a smile and proceeded to spell out her name.
She was definitely older than the other girls were …
much more groomed and better put together.
Having a guess, I would’ve said she was about twenty-five.
Older than most of our fans, but an average age for a groupie, although I wasn’t sure if that was what she was. I was suddenly on alert.
“So, what’s a nice girl like you doing slumming it in a pub like this?” I asked her.
“I could ask you boys the same thing,” her reply was followed by a nervous laugh.
“Press,” I said to Maca as he leant across the pool table to break.
His head swung up to look from me to the woman standing between us. He looked back along the pool table and potted a stripe. Standing up straight, he gripped the cue with both hands.
“Fuck off,” he said to her, gesturing with his head towards the door.
“Wh-what?” She looked between us, her mouth hanging open.
“Oh come on, boys, give a girl a break,” she pleaded.
“Give you a break?” I asked. “Do you have any idea the damage you lot have done to us, my family, and our band?”
She looked down at the ground for a few seconds, then back up, looking back and forth between Maca and me.
“Look, I know some of it was a bit rough on your sister, but that wasn’t me. I’m not that kind of reporter.”
“There’s only one kind of reporter,” Maca told her, “the cunt kind. Now, fuck off before I get Jock to throw you out.”
She held her hands up as if she was surrendering.
“Look, I’m gonna go to the bar and get a drink.
I just want a few words from you. I don’t wanna ask questions about what happened in France or anything to do with that.
” She looked between us. “Just a little something about the success of the album, the sell-out tour, and how you’re coping with it all.
Maybe something about what you’ve got coming up next year? Please, just think about it?”
We both stood and watched her hips sway as she walked to the bar. I had to adjust my dick in my jeans. I hadn’t had a shag since the tour ended, and I was more than a little desperate.
“She’s got a nice arse,” I said quietly.
“What the fuck has that gotta do with anything?” Maca turned back around, taking his second shot and missed it. “Your spots.”
“I know. What if we do her a deal?” I pot one spot, followed by another.
“What type of deal?” he asked, his eyebrows drawn together.
I stood up straight and passed him the cue back after missing my third shot. “I dunno … a blowie or summit? I’m gagging for a shag.”
“You’re gagging for a shag? How d’ya think I feel? It’s been four months and three countries since your sister left Spain, and I last got my leg over.”
I took a step back from him. “Dude, do you know how seriously happy my life would be if I never had to talk, or even think about you shagging my sister again? Like, ever?”
He laughed and took his shot. It was good to see him smile. I know that he’d made a point of making sure that Jimmie knew the phone number and address of our new flat, but there had still been no contact from George.
“Was she doing anything special tonight, d’ya know?” He took his shot while asking. I knew it was so that he didn’t have to make eye contact with me as he talked about her.
“My mum said that she didn’t want any fuss made. She has college tomorrow.” I tell him what I know.
“How’s college going for her?” He took another shot, still not looking my way.
“All good, I think. You know George. She and Len are the brains of the family.”
Unable to avoid me anymore, his eyes met mine. “She seeing anyone?”
“I honestly don’t know, mate. She’s not spoken to me since she left Spain. Jim, Len, Mum, and Dad, only tell me what she wants me to know.”
He looked down at his feet before picking up his bottle and finishing the contents.
“I really fucking miss her,” he stated, his eyes shining with tears.
“I know you do, mate, but without sounding harsh, she’s getting on with her life and I think it’s time you moved on with yours.”
He nodded his head before potting every stripe on the table, and then the black. “Yeah, I’m beginning to think that too.
Game over.