right,’ Stevie added boastfully. ‘Me and Lynton are still at songwriting stage ourselves right now. Once we’ve writ ’em, we can learn ’em together. We can start first day of holidays.’
‘Now, Kevin,’ Lynton ignored him, continued talkingin the same soothing way. ‘Is that kit you play yours or the school’s?’
‘School’s,’ a small voice whimpered up from the depths.
‘Right then,’ Lynton looked challengingly at Stevie. ‘To prove to you that we’re serious about what we say, me and Stevie’regonna get you your own kit. We can keep it at my place. That way, we can all rehearse together and Dunton will never know.’
At this, Kevin’shead came up. Through smudged glasses and bleary eyes, he stared up at Lynton incredulously.
‘H-how you gonna do that?’ the smaller boy whispered. ‘You’ve not got that kind of money?’
‘We don’t need money,’ Stevie gloated. ‘We’ve got…contacts. Contacts in all the right places. No sweat, Kevin. We can take care of it.’
Kevin’s gaze travelled from Lynton to Steve and then back to Lynton again.Those deep, dark eyes that had so scared him only moments before were now warm and kindly. Even Mullin was looking at him earnestly, palms outstretched in a ‘trust me’ gesture.
He couldn’t quite work out what they were up to. He thought they were going to kick shit out of him, but here they were promising him his own drum kit.
‘I don’t believe it,’ he finally said.
‘Don’t have to,’ Stevie smiled.‘We’ll prove it to you. You mark my words, Kevin. First day of holidays and it’ll all be ready for you.’
Kevin stumbled to his feet, began self-consciously brushing the dust off his trousers and sleeves.
‘You all right now?’ Lynton asked him.
Kevin nodded his head, not looking him in the eye.
‘All right then, we’ll be off,’ announced Stevie. ‘We’ll be in touch, Kevin.’
‘Have faith,’ addedLynton, raising his palm in farewell.
Kevin watched them drift back in the direction of Road. Both of them over six feet tall, wearing their weirdo’s clothes proudly, laughing easily with each other as if this nerve-wracking exchange had never even taken place.
Kevin did a final check to make sure he wouldn’t look to his mum like he’d been rolling in the mud. Got his glasses case outof hisschoolbag to give them a polish with their proper cloth. Maybe if he could see clearly then the events of the last couple of hours would start making sense.
Kevin’s stomach reminded him of sausage and mash. As he walked towards the sanctuary of his own front door, he couldn’t help but think: This is the strangest day of my life.
6
I Wanna Riot All of My Own
Winter 2001
‘What do you think then? Think anyone will give us a go?’ With Granger again already and it was only Monday night.
At a bar called Lounge on the Portobello Road, his manor infinitely preferable to mine. Christ, it was posh around here now. While Camden had remodelled itself into an open-air lunatic asylum/young offenders institute, Ladbroke Grove hadtaken a decidedly upmarket turn.
This bar, for instance. Moroccan, Bedouin tent theme, with lavish drapes hanging from the ceiling, heavy wooden tables complete with hookahs, chaise longues and huge scatter cushions everywhere. Brian Eno and David Byrne’s
My Life in the Bush of Ghosts
the soundtrack. Jocasta and James and their friends sipping Pinot Grigio and showing off their lizard foot tattoos,while a couple of Heroes of Britpop – the ones whose daddies were millionaires to begin with – slouch at the bar, pretending not to surreptitiously eyeball everyone who’s surreptitiously eyeballing them.
This bar used to be a dirty, dingy old man’s pub called TheBlack Fort, with a brass-topped bar and a carpet that stuck to your feet. London Pride was the brew of choice, real Rastafarians dealtganja openly and emphysema was the soundtrack of the day. Every eccentric weirdo in the vicinity congregated
‘Now, Kevin,’ Lynton ignored him, continued talkingin the same soothing way. ‘Is that kit you play yours or the school’s?’
‘School’s,’ a small voice whimpered up from the depths.
‘Right then,’ Lynton looked challengingly at Stevie. ‘To prove to you that we’re serious about what we say, me and Stevie’regonna get you your own kit. We can keep it at my place. That way, we can all rehearse together and Dunton will never know.’
At this, Kevin’shead came up. Through smudged glasses and bleary eyes, he stared up at Lynton incredulously.
‘H-how you gonna do that?’ the smaller boy whispered. ‘You’ve not got that kind of money?’
‘We don’t need money,’ Stevie gloated. ‘We’ve got…contacts. Contacts in all the right places. No sweat, Kevin. We can take care of it.’
Kevin’s gaze travelled from Lynton to Steve and then back to Lynton again.Those deep, dark eyes that had so scared him only moments before were now warm and kindly. Even Mullin was looking at him earnestly, palms outstretched in a ‘trust me’ gesture.
He couldn’t quite work out what they were up to. He thought they were going to kick shit out of him, but here they were promising him his own drum kit.
‘I don’t believe it,’ he finally said.
‘Don’t have to,’ Stevie smiled.‘We’ll prove it to you. You mark my words, Kevin. First day of holidays and it’ll all be ready for you.’
Kevin stumbled to his feet, began self-consciously brushing the dust off his trousers and sleeves.
‘You all right now?’ Lynton asked him.
Kevin nodded his head, not looking him in the eye.
‘All right then, we’ll be off,’ announced Stevie. ‘We’ll be in touch, Kevin.’
‘Have faith,’ addedLynton, raising his palm in farewell.
Kevin watched them drift back in the direction of Road. Both of them over six feet tall, wearing their weirdo’s clothes proudly, laughing easily with each other as if this nerve-wracking exchange had never even taken place.
Kevin did a final check to make sure he wouldn’t look to his mum like he’d been rolling in the mud. Got his glasses case outof hisschoolbag to give them a polish with their proper cloth. Maybe if he could see clearly then the events of the last couple of hours would start making sense.
Kevin’s stomach reminded him of sausage and mash. As he walked towards the sanctuary of his own front door, he couldn’t help but think: This is the strangest day of my life.
6
I Wanna Riot All of My Own
Winter 2001
‘What do you think then? Think anyone will give us a go?’ With Granger again already and it was only Monday night.
At a bar called Lounge on the Portobello Road, his manor infinitely preferable to mine. Christ, it was posh around here now. While Camden had remodelled itself into an open-air lunatic asylum/young offenders institute, Ladbroke Grove hadtaken a decidedly upmarket turn.
This bar, for instance. Moroccan, Bedouin tent theme, with lavish drapes hanging from the ceiling, heavy wooden tables complete with hookahs, chaise longues and huge scatter cushions everywhere. Brian Eno and David Byrne’s
My Life in the Bush of Ghosts
the soundtrack. Jocasta and James and their friends sipping Pinot Grigio and showing off their lizard foot tattoos,while a couple of Heroes of Britpop – the ones whose daddies were millionaires to begin with – slouch at the bar, pretending not to surreptitiously eyeball everyone who’s surreptitiously eyeballing them.
This bar used to be a dirty, dingy old man’s pub called TheBlack Fort, with a brass-topped bar and a carpet that stuck to your feet. London Pride was the brew of choice, real Rastafarians dealtganja openly and emphysema was the soundtrack of the day. Every eccentric weirdo in the vicinity congregated
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