“All our fucking instruments were stolen. The van is all smashed. Bloody hell!” Ryan continued. “Everything’s fucking gone! How the hell will I explain this to my dad.”
“We’ll meet you in the lobby,” I said.
Ryan left and Keith slammed the door. “Fuckin’ aye! My brand new Telecaster! I’ve wanted that guitar for ages. Now some arsehole stole it!” He kicked over the little folding table holding my bag of clothes. The contents went flying.
“Well, that won’t help!” I picked up my clothes and folded them back into my bag. “I’m sorry this happened, but I’m sure Frank has insurance.”
“That fucking takes time. We have a show at the Borderline day after tomorrow. What the hell do we do until the insurance comes through? Besides, that guitar was a gift from Frank and Louisa. It meant a lot.”
Keith went down to the lobby while I finished packing.” At least his other guitars were with us.
The band was in the lobby talking to a constable when I arrived. I peeked out at the van. I wondered how we’d get home in a van missing half its windows.
The hotel staff let us take our time checking out. I remembered I still had the video camera in my bag and used it to immortalize the damage.
Ryan came out. “You had the camera? I told my dad it was stolen. The constable told me where to get the van hoovered. I’ll also get plastic to tape over the windows so we don’t freeze our arses off. What a fucking disaster!”
By the time the van was hoovered and taped up, it was nearly two. To make matters worse, we were ten minutes on the motorway when the plastic began blowing off. We were now, as Ryan put it, freezing our arses off. We pulled over to re-tape it, but another ten minutes on the motorway ripped it off again. After a few more pull-overs and a lot of swearing, we finally limped into Ryan’s driveway. Frank came out to survey the damage. Louisa hurried out insisting everyone come inside where hot food and tea waited. I was chilled to the bone.
Frank came in. “The insurance company will send someone the next day or so, but what were you lads thinking driving the van back in that condition? If you got pulled over it would have been impounded.”
“We had no choice,” Ryan said. “We couldn’t afford to take the train. Then where would we put the van?”
“If I’d known it was that bad I would have driven down. I’m not on call today.”
“Well I didn’t know that,” Ryan responded. “But we have to figure out how to get instruments and get our stuff to gigs.”
“We’ll get you lads sorted out. I’m at least glad you had the sense to keep your money with you.”
“I’m glad I always have Ian’s guitars with me,” Keith added. “But bloody hell! I finally get the guitar I’ve wanted for eons and some fuck steals it!”
I poured myself another cup of tea and drank until I was sufficiently warmed.
When I finally returned home, I filled Aimee in and called it an early night.
When the insurance money came, Keith purchased the exact same guitar from the infamous store on Denmark Street. “At least this one isn’t partly from my parents,” he said.
I was getting increasingly curious about his biological parents. I saw what that guitar cost. Why would they buy it if they didn’t care about him?
I didn’t dwell on it. The next weeks I worked day and night on my presentations and concentrated on little else until the end of February. I had to win a top prize.
Chapter Eighteen
The Piss Ants’ practiced or performed every evening and I often staggered home from the academy too exhausted to do anything but eat and sleep.
The lack of time spent with Keith made me depressed and anxious. Even my personal tutor noticed. I liked him a lot. He was French, and always gave sound advice.
“I know,” he said. “You suffer from an affaire de coeur. You must steer that passion into your work to create your masterpiece. Pretend your lover is guiding your hand.”
His advice gave me the focus I needed, but still kept me at the academy long hours. Finally, two days before the due date, I finished. My creation, my masterpiece, was a sculpture of Keith and me, wrapped in each other’s arms. It was magnifique and my tutor agreed. “See, you channeled your passion to create a masterpiece. You may indeed win top prize.”
I also entered one of my paintings of a Brittany beach at sunset, but the sculpture was my masterpiece. I held my breath until the big day.
That day arrived not a moment too soon. I was sure if I waited one more day I‘d be declared certifiable. The day after the event was my eighteenth birthday. My parents and Aimee’s flew in to attend and celebrate my entrance into adulthood. Aimee and I met them at the airport. We showed them Trafalgar Square, the Tower Bridge and at my father’s request, rode a double-decker bus. My plan was to go to Keith’s for a hot soak, and my parents would meet us at the bedsit in an hour.
I greeted Keith long enough to tell him my plans and head to the bathroom. The hot water felt so good I wanted to stay in forever. But I didn’t want to explain to my parents why I wasn’t home, so reluctantly emerged and donned my black velvet strapless dress. I added a pink silk jacket, put on black stockings and pink ballet flats. I then tied my hair with a big black bow. I emerged to find Keith at his piano wearing the same tattered jeans and Sex Pistols shirt.
I stared at him, aghast. “This is a Semi-formal affair. Why haven’t you changed?”
He frowned. “I’m not wearing a tie or anything.”
“Can you wear a button shirt and Levis without holes?”
“Spending time with your parents should be enough requirement of me.”
I ran my hands up his shirt. “Do it tonight for me.”
Keith sighed. “All right. No one can say I’m not devoted to you.” He wiggled out of his t-shirt.
“It’s my special day. My Parents have to be nice to you. If you’re good, you’ll reap your reward tonight.”
“I’ll hold you to it.” With one final kiss, he relinquished me and put on his shirt with piano keys up the sleeves and musical notes everywhere. Even though his replacement Levis were faded, they had no holes.
Miraculously we made it to my place before my parents did and we all went to dinner before heading to the gallery. I was grateful my parents were cordial to Keith.
Frank and Louisa accepted my invitation and showed up at the gallery. I was so elated they could finally meet my parents.
My jubilation was crushed as we looked over the exhibition entries. There was no way I’d win more than honorable mention. We took our seats and when the ceremony began, I almost stopped breathing, my palms were sweaty and I was ready to tear my hair out. One by one, prizes were called in various categories. I was overjoyed when my painting won honorable mention. I began to relax a bit, but next up were the sculpture awards. My sculpture was my masterpiece –- the one my personal tutor claimed was my best work ever, yet it paled in comparison to the others. I realized Aimee had the same fears. Everyone kept reassuring us, but it didn’t help.
Keith reached around and gave me a quick squeeze. “Relax, luv. If you don’t win, the judges are all wankers.”
The honorable mentions were called. I held my breath. Surely my sculpture would win an honorable mention. It didn’t. I was devastated.
“I was sure I’d get honorable mention,” I lamented, unable to hide my disappointment.
“Relax, luv,” Keith whispered to me. “That sculpture represents our love. It’ll win a top prize.”
I wished I had Keith’s confidence.
I then heard Aimee’s name called. She won a coveted prize for her sculpture of some shore gulls. We grabbed and hugged each other. More prizes were called and I gave up all hope. There were only three awards left. I wanted to rush from the building and never come back. I worked so hard on that sculpture. It meant everything to me.
“The award goes to the sculpture entitled Young Lovers by Brigitte Antoine.”
[To be continued… Click here to view all chapters.]
