The Bare Necessities (Non-Profane Edition) (32 page)

Paige snorted.
“For that to happen, he would have to ask me out, and that hasn't
happened. Now I have a bus to catch, and nothing further to
say.”

The gaggle of
questions started again, and Paige had to push her way past the
group of journalists, eager to talk to her, to get the comment for
their newspaper or TV show.”

“Paige, Paige,”
Jack cried from the back of the group, and she smiled at him. He
held up the keys and called her again. “Want a lift?”

Paige pushed past
another reporter and ran across the Police station car park to the
BMW Jack owned. The two of them were photographed repeatedly as
they tried to make a quick exit, but Jack pulled out onto the main
road before the paparazzi could follow them. “Thanks,” she
muttered. “How long were you there for?”

“Long enough,” he
told her and smiled. “Andre told me you were being released. He's
coming to the house and wants a word.”

“Oh what the
monkeys does he want?” Paige moaned, but Jack dialled their agent
from his car.

“Something about
some exciting news!”

* *
* * *

“Hello stranger,”
Claire teased as she opened the door to Lucinda's house. There were
a still several photographers and journalists at the end of the
drive, and Claire shut the door as soon as Andre entered the
room.

“Afternoon,” Andre
greeted her as he came into the house and Claire led him into the
spacious lounge, with the curtains drawn across. He smiled.
“Privacy?”

“They were coming
up the drive earlier,” she moaned. “Jack nearly mowed them down
when he drove away.”

Andre shrugged.
“You're hot property,” he said with a broad grin and then shrugged.
“Isn't this what you wanted?”

Claire sat down
and shook her head. “I feel like, it's out of control. Paige is
just set on trying to beat everyone, Jack is trying not to upset
anyone, and half of the media hate us. It feels, too manic.”

Andre licked his
lips. “And what do you want?”

“I don't want to
be hated,” Claire put her head in her hands and groaned. “I just
want everything to be like it was when we first went on tour. We
didn't have all this.”

“But now you are
selling tens of thousands of albums, playing to Wembley and … err …
festivals.”

Claire snorted.
“It's not about the money. Hell, my mother was begging me to stop,
Jack's father has made his position perfectly clear, and Paige
won't tell me what her parents think, but as her brother got beat
up because of us, I'd say it's not good. Maybe we are just too
crazy.”

Andre sat down
next to her. “You're not,” he soothed. “You lot are a bit
different. Well so were the Sex Pistols when they played music, and
they had problems. So were Black Sabbath and hundreds of other
musicians. You are popular because you are good, don't forget
that.”

Claire smiled. “I
know you have to say nice things to us because you are our
agent.”

“I have to look
after my clients,” Andre corrected her with a smirk. “And
particularly my favourite clients.”

“You mean the ones
that make you the most money.”

“The ones that are
the most talented.” He cocked his head as she blushed. “OK, we have
mostly ex-musicians trading on back catalogues and fourth-tier
footballers. It's not that difficult to be our number one client,
but … well … all the work and requests and stuff for you, I've been
working eight 'til eight. And we have a temp in working solely on
your account. If this keeps up, we are going to need to get
permanent staff in and possibly a new office. And it's all thanks
to you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. Well all
three of you. I'm working full-time on it, my uncle's working
part-time and we have a temp in doing clerical work and … the
'phones have been ringing off the hook. We had a fault at the radio
mast yesterday, and the 'phones went silent for two hours. Greg
phoned O2 back up the moment they came back on and asked them to
break the damn masts again so he could get some lunch.”

Claire laughed,
and she bit her lip. “Don't you want a break from it all? I mean,
naturism was all about escaping everyday life and being at one with
nature. It just feels that instead of taking the tranquility of
naturism to our life, we've just added the manic-ness of life to
our only escapism. We've done it all wrong.”

Andre stared at
her for a moment. “You sound like you need a break from it all. Go
and recharge your batteries.”

Claire smiled.
“Yeah, I think I do.”

“OK. Go.”

“No, I mean it.
Just cut off from the world. I know the place, but … I don't want
to take Paige and Jack. They are my friends, but I need to get away
from this. And if we go, it will turn into another media circus.”
She gulped. “And they will be annoyed if I go without them.”

Andre sighed. “OK
then. As a friend …” he flinched as Claire raised her eyebrows. “…
OK sort of a friend. I would say, go. I've got a big festival lined
up for you at the end of the month, it's days away. Have a few days
away and chill. I'll envy you, but do it. You sound like you need
it.”

“I can't do it on
my own,” Claire muttered and then smiled. “But I'll do it with
you.” Andre stuttered, and Claire giggled at the alarm on his face.
“Come on, you've not done naturism properly. And I reckon you need
some time away too.”

“I've got a very
big account to deal with. And a client who insists on getting
arrested every twenty minutes!”

“Paige is a big
girl,” Claire told him. “Well actually she's short and skinny. I'm
the big girl, but Paige can look after herself. Come on, it might
be the difference between me continuing and not. I need a break as
these past few weeks have been relentless and if I can't find a way
to switch off then it'll just kill me.”

Andre suspired
wearily. “You three are definitely the most demanding clients I
have ever had!”

“And the most
profitable?”

Andre laughed.
“Yeah, I've got an accountant looking through that at the
moment.”

“Please Andre,
just the two of us. Somewhere remote and quiet.”

Claire's
conversation with Andre was interrupted as Jack and Paige came into
the house. “You should see them out there,” Paige cried. “Ten deep.
I thought we were going to have to run the buggers over, but Jack
just used his horn.” She turned to her friend and sighed. “Didn't
you ever play Grand Theft Auto?”

“No,” he muttered
and Andre gestured for them to sit down.

“Very quickly, I
have a contract for you to sign. The big Hyde Park Festival, they
want you to open it.”

“You're kidding,”
Paige cried and looked as her agent pulled a wad of paper from his
briefcase. “Seriously. Why the hell … don't they know everyone
hates us?”

“The sort of
people that go to music festivals quite like you,” Andre reminded
her. “As do the people at Incredible Talents.” His eyes wandered to
Claire who blushed. “And they are going to pay fifty thousand
pounds for you.” He hesitated and then cleared his throat. “OK,
they were going to pay thirty, and I beat them up to fifty! It's
not a vast amount, but you are an addition to the line-up to boost
sales, so it was worth it for them.”

“What? Fifty
thousand? That's like massive,” Paige cried.

“You
underestimate, Paige, how much money you've made,” Andre told her
with a smile. “I reckon you are looking at around six hundred
grand.”

Paige spluttered
and gripped the side of the table. “That's over a hundred and fifty
each after your cut! Wow!”

“No Paige, that's
six hundred grand each, after expenses, and my cut,” Andre replied
with a smile and Paige spluttered and grinned.

“You better be
teasing me.”

“We got over two
million owed or in an account with the music sales, and stuff. I
need to get you talking to an accountant to sort this stuff
out.”

“Wow, Christ. I'm
rich?” She asked with a scowl. “I'm actually rich?” She looked at
Claire and Jack. “Did you know 'bout this?”

“Not the amount,”
Claire told her. “We need to get it all sorted with an accountant,
pay tax and stuff, but yes, we are well-off.”

“Yeah,” Andre told
her. “It can wait until after the concert though, I got to get away
for a couple of days. But when we get back, get you chatting to an
accountant.”

“Oh,” Jack
muttered. “Isn't it important?”

Andre looked at
Claire. “I thought Claire was off anyway seeing relatives?”

Paige glanced over
at Claire who nervously bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah. Sick
grandparents. South Coast,” she gulped.

“Right, well,”
Jack muttered and looked up at Paige. “Guess it's just us two.”

“Yeah,” Paige
muttered. “Oh, and Andre. Any chance of putting a complaint into
the Police? The way those bastards dragged me to the car this
morning. No dignity at all.”

Andre nodded.
“I'll get the solicitor to stop off and see you,” he promised and
then looked at the contract in Jack's hand. “You want to do the
festival?”

He glanced over to
Claire who nodded. “Yeah, it'll be exciting,” she said, smiling as
Jack flicked through the legal document. “Why not?”

“I'm not sure it's
worth getting out of bed for a measly fifty grand,” Paige teased
and smiled. “Of course, I'll do it! I can be naked, can't I?”

“Yes,” Andre
replied. “I did check that. I do know what you are like,
Paige.”

“What?” Paige
asked.

“Awkward!” Claire
responded with a giggle. “Bloody awkward.”

* *
* * *

“Claire was very
keen for us not to join her,” Paige moaned as she put on her best
dress and smiled at her “date” wearing a suit. “I mean, I can
understand it. We've lived on top of each other for months.”

Jack chuckled.
“Some of us, more than others.”

“Hey, you weren't
complaining. Sharing a sleeping bag.”

“No, I wasn't,”
Jack reminded her and held the door open for her. She snarled at
him as she brushed her long, red hair and applied a few squirts of
her perfume, before joining him on the landing.

“I won't wait up,”
Lucinda teased as they came downstairs and she watched them from
her front room. Jack chastised her when he saw she had a whole
bottle of wine to herself. “I'm not going to drink one bottle in an
evening to myself,” she moaned and pulled a second bottle from the
floor. “I've got two.”

“Aunty, we need to
talk,” Jack muttered.

“I'm fine,” she
said, dismissing her concerned nephew. “And don't keep your young
lady waiting.”

“I won't.” He
frowned and crossed his arms. “But you need to stop this drinking
and …”

“I am not drinking
it on my own,” she snapped. “I am expecting company.”

“Ohhhh,” Paige
taunted. “Anyone we know.”

“It does not
matter,” she was told. “Now off you go.”

Jack hummed. “Just
don't do something stupid, like accept a marriage proposal!”

“I won't,” she
replied. “I've got enough toasters!”

Jack shook his
head and escorted Paige out of their front door. They expected
journalists to be waiting for them, but it was a cold night and
they had decamped from outside Lucinda's drive to the subtler
location of inside a handful of cars parked on the private
road.

Paige grumbled as
they drove past. “Can you stop for a moment?” She asked, and Jack
looked at her as she did. “I just want a quick word with them.”

“Paige,
please.”

“What? Stop.
Please.” Jack reluctantly slowed the vehicle and Paige got out the
car, walking towards a little Ford Fiesta parked by the side of the
road with blacked-out windows. She saw the occupants move as she
tapped on the window and Jack got out of his car to watch. “Open,”
she barked and the car window slid down. “Just so you know,” she
shouted at the middle-aged man sat inside the vehicle so that the
entire street could hear. “My band mate and I are going to a
restaurant together because we are fed up being stuck in the house.
Claire has gone to see her relatives and we are going to the Old
Ship Inn, about five miles away. We have a table booked for seven,
and I am probably going to order something unhealthy, and Jack will
moan at me for doing so. I will have a double vodka and lemonade
and chocolate dessert. I am wearing red knickers with a matching
bra, and … er … I think that's it.” She glared at him. “What no
photographs?”

“Listen love, if
you don't want the press to …”

“I am helping
you,” Paige said with an ominous smile. “So you can sod off outside
the house. So sling your hook.” She looked at Jack watching her and
shrugged.

“Oh, and missy.
Your friend ain't with relatives. She’s gone with that agent of
yours. We saw them buying tents this morning.”

“You what?” Paige
snorted and shook her head. “I don't think so.” Jack watched as
Paige walked towards him, shaking her hips from side to side and
then getting into Jack's vehicle. “That showed them.”

“You gave them
everything they wanted.”

“Yes, and
hopefully they will go from outside our house. Well, your Aunt's
house.”

“I am not quite
sure that's how it works,” Jack muttered as he pulled away from
where he was parked. “And I bet we are in the newspapers tomorrow
as we leave the pub.”

“I hope not,”
Paige replied. “You didn't really believe me when I said I would
have one double vodka and lemonade?” It took Jack around fifteen
minutes to drive to the pub in the tail end of the rush hour
traffic, and he pulled up in the car park and scanned the other
vehicles as he got out of his car. Paige's teeth chattered. “What
are you looking for?” Paige asked as she waited for her date, and
crossed her arms. “It's bloody cold.”

“Should have worn
a coat then,” Jack muttered and turned to look at her. “Just
looking for paparazzi,” he whispered.