Gang Of Losers by Chris Lynton
Chapter Six
Before opening the front door, Theo stashed the booze and fag-laden rucksack in the bush in the front garden. He then quietly opened the door and checked for inhabitants. There didn't seem to be anyone between him and his room on the second floor, so he retrieved the rucksack and ran up the stairs as quickly as he could and hid it underneath his bed. His parents knew he drank (and probably smoked, although he wasn't sure about that), but he thought it was best to keep these things out of sight if at all possible.
Once he'd secured the bag safely, he went down to the ground floor where he assumed everyone would be. His mum, dad and brother Jon were just sitting down to a dinner of homemade pizza.
"Oh dear, you don't look too chipper. How did the audition go?" his father asked.
Theo often got told he looked miserable, even though he wasn't. He ignored the comment and treated his family to as large a grin as he could muster.
"It went well actually dad, they offered me the job there and then."
Both parents congratulated him wholeheartedly, and his brother looked up from his food.
"Who you playing for?"
"Steal Guitars"
"No way! I thought they broke up?" When it became clear that they had not, he continued: "Well done! So all those years of your noise pollution have finally paid off?"
"Yup" Theo replied
"Cool. I'll buy you a beer later. You going to the White Hart?" Theo nodded that he was and both brothers tucked into their pizzas.
After dinner, Theo phoned his best friend Pete and found out that most people were meeting at the fountain at eight o'clock. Pete asked if Theo would he like to come round to his for a few beers first, but he declined saying that he had a couple of things to do first.
It was now seven o'clock. Time to get ready to go out. For Theo this meant two things: music and alcohol. He went up to his room and reached under the bed for the four-pack of Holsten Pils. But before he opened the first can, he wanted to get his outfit for the evening sorted, so that he could relax with the beer. He decided to keep his white shirt from the audition on but lose the black tie. The jeans would be fine too, and he opted to bring the Harrington out of retirement despite its potentially uncomfortable nature. Feeling that the outfit needed a bit more colour, he put on the blue neckerchief that he'd tried the other day and found that if he tucked the ends in to his unbuttoned white shirt they would not stick up and annoy him.
Pleased with the look, he reached for a beer. He made a coughing sound as he opened the can, in case one of his parents was walking past his room at that particular moment. He took a long gulp and winced as the sharp, bubbly liquid made its way down his throat. Now to choose some music. His current favourite (and most recent purchase) was 'China Girl' by David Bowie. He lined the single up on the Panasonic Music centre and turned the bass up as far as it would go. He took another long swig as the guitar intro started. Then then the song kicked in proper - he could not quite believe the drum sound on this record. It was so... chunky. Was this a special type of drum kit, or had something been done to the sound in the studio?
He followed China Girl with another great drum track: Ant Music by Adam and The Ants. The rumbling Drr-rum-dum de dum de dum dum de dum de de dum of the massed tom-toms on the chorus was one of Theo's favourite things in the whole world. He sang along to the chorus and took swigs from the can during the verses. He had now finished the first can, so he reached under the bed for the second. Again he coughed to cover up the psst! of the ring pull. After another swig, he began playing singles randomly: 'Echo Beach', 'Hit me With Your Rhythm Stick', 'Memphis Tennessee', 'Tiger Feet', 'Just Can't Get Enough', 'Strange Little Girl', 'Bye Bye Baby', 'Do You Remember Rock n Roll Radio'...
Once can number four was emptied, he turned off the music centre, hid the empties under the bed (he would have to dispose of them later) and told his parents he was going out. He relayed this information by shouting at them from the corridor as opposed to entering the living room where they were watching TV. This method ensured they were unable to smell the alcohol on his breath, and he was less likely to slur his words at shouting volume. Once he'd heard their response of "have a nice time" he left the house and walked towards the fountain, this time without the aid of cigarettes (the four cans of Holsten Pils having emboldened him enough).
When he arrived, none of his friends were there. He assumed this would be the case; they would not have waited for him and would have made their way to the White Hart by now.
He found everyone at the pub, and explained his no-show at the fountain by saying that he was celebrating with his family. When they asked what he was celebrating, he told them that he was now the drummer for Steal Guitars. His friend's response was disbelief followed by congratulations and he accepted pats on the back and pints of lager all round. Once beer had been bought, they moved to the back room to watch the band - a heavy metal outfit from Trowbridge called Crowd Pleazer.
While the band was playing, he looked around the packed venue. The pub attracted all age groups, and it wasn't unusual to see school friends, school teachers, and parents of friends all here at the same time. None of his crowd had come with their girlfriends this evening, so he was in an all-male group. This always annoyed him, as he loved the excitement of having girls around. He hoped there might be some other girls here that he knew, perhaps even his ex, Janet. It might be kind of cool to tell her about his Steal Guitars triumph.
After the band had finished, Theo and Pete headed outside to get some fresh air. Theo was lighting up a Consulate when he noticed the tall equine figure of August Wells heading towards him, accompanied by Justin, the New England Planets' drummer. Theo's heart pounded, causing him to blush. If August noticed, he was too polite to say anything.
"I just heard about the Steal Guitars! Congrats man!"
Theo smiled and thanked him. But before he could say anything else, Justin interjected:
"What do you want to play for those assholes for?"
"Jesus Justin, don't be a twat" August said, a look of admonishment on his face. He turned to Theo: "Don't mind him; he's just a bit pissed and a bit jealous. Anyway can I buy you a pint?"
Theo looked at his pint, which was about two thirds full.
"No thanks, I'm fine"
"Oh, okay, no worries. You haven't seen my girlfriend around anywhere have you?"
Theo wasn't aware that August had a girlfriend at the moment, and felt a stab of jealousy. He said that he hadn't. With that, August patted him on the shoulder, congratulated him again and wandered off with Justin.
A sudden bolt of incredulation came over him: he had just turned down the offer of a pint from August Wells. For fuck's sake! What was he thinking? That pint could have led to him and August hanging out together for the entire evening! Theo would have offered him a pint in return, so that would have been at least an hour they could have been together. How many times had Theo wished that he and August would strike up a conversation? And when it happened, Theo turned him away!
Now he was annoyed. He'd spoilt his night of triumph by being his usual slow-thinking, unsociable self. And now he came to think of it, what did Justin mean about Steal Guitars being wankers? Or was it assholes? Lee might have been a bit stand-offish, but Mark seemed okay. Theo hoped that Justin's rudeness might have annoyed August enough for him to start looking for another drummer. Imagine that: if Theo got offered the job as the New England Planet's drummer as well! What would he do? Would he rather play for the Planets or the Guitars?
This reverie restored his previous good mood and Theo left his friends to go for a wander. He often went off on his own, preferring not to be constrained by whatever conversation his friends were having. But when he didn't see anyone he knew, he went to the bar to get another pint. As he queued up (two rows of drinkers in front of him) he thought about Janet. He hadn't thought about her for a while. For weeks after their break-up he did nothing else except think of her. He could have found a cure for cancer w
Janet had been a friend of Pete's last girlfriend. Theo traditionally tended to go out with girls whom he had some sort of established link to. He dreaded the notion of chatting up a girl from scratch, so he tended to migrate towards girls who already knew him in some context. This ploy worked well, but once you had made your way through your existing social network you were left with few options. You had to make new friends to get new girlfriends.
The problem with chatting girls up wasn't necessarily having the nerve to do it, but having anything to actually say beyond the initial "hello, my name's Theo, how are you?" He didn't seem to possess (or thought he didn't possess) the necessary easy manner to just make up small talk as he went along. He tended to panic, saying too much too quickly and then stammered to a halt.
He knew August Wells would never have this trouble. August seemed to be able to talk to anyone. But wasn't that one of the advantages of being good-looking? That people are more likely to be responsive to what you are saying? Oh how Theo longed to be good-looking! How easy life must be! You could walk into any room and instantly be the centre of attention. You wouldn't have to say anything interesting, or anything at all for that matter. People would just gravitate towards you, and smile readily at you, willing you to engage them in conversation.
Maybe that's why Theo had such trouble with chatting up. He believed that his looks on their own weren't enough to make up for his conversational stumblings. Even now, with the four cans of Pils from his at-home drinking session, and several pints at the pub, Theo didn't feel suitably courageous to chat up one of the many girls here tonight. So now he stood at the bar, alone. And soon it would be closing time. If he was going to meet anyone it would have to be now or not at all.
The White Hart seemed to have an extra-ordinarily large catchment area - people would come from as far as Bath, Chippenham, Melksham and Trowbridge to watch the bands and drink. So you often saw girls here that you never saw walking around Lyncombe. Theo caught site of a couple of such girls now, standing by the ladies toilets, one of them lighting up a cigarette and the other putting a stick of chewing gum in her mouth. The girl with the chewing gum looked a bit younger than Theo and was short and heavy-set. She had cropped hair and a pretty face, tanned skin and wore a loose-knit electric blue mohair jumper over a white vest. When her friend was putting her cigarette packet back in her bag, the girl looked over at Theo and he held her gaze for as long as he could, his face reddening as he did so. She stared back, but was it a look of defiance or interest? He looked away, unsure what to do next. After a minute or so (and after he could feel the heat in his face diminishing) he looked back at her. She was talking to her friend, but kept looking his way. He was pretty sure she was interested.
He decided to just finish this pint and then go over and introduce himself. He'd worry about the small-talk when he got there. But just as he downed the pint, a middle-aged man wearing green cords and a brown jacket walked up to the two girls. The smoker hastily put out her cigarette and smiled apologetically at the man. After some heated exchanges, the chewing gum girl said goodbye to her friend and left with him. Her father, Theo assumed. Why didn't he move earlier? He could have got her phone number by now. He was too sodding busy staring.
But this girl was undeniably pretty, and perhaps it wasn't too late. He put his pint down and ran out of the pub on to the High Street. He looked around and saw her getting into the back seat of a large estate car. Her father closed the door for her and got into the driver's seat. As the car chugged to life, Theo stood in the road and watched it head down the High Street. The girl looked back through the rear window. Not knowing what to do, he blew her a kiss. She blew one back and smiled. She really did have a very pretty face.
The kiss (albeit a remote one) filled him with indescribable joy. Too excited to do anything else, he ran all the way home, thinking in equal measure about the chewing gum girl and August Wells.