1982: A Year in the Life of Wendy Wood by Jason Ayres

Author:Jason Ayres [Ayres, Jason]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Chapel Street Press
Published: 2024-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

June 1982

“Rick Jagger?” asked Alan incredulously, as the others burst out laughing. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

It was a bright Saturday morning, the first of the month, and unusually the group were all together having breakfast in the kitchen. They were reacting to Ricky’s ridiculous suggestion that he was thinking of changing his name by deed poll.

“Look, just hear me out,” said Ricky. “What have Elton John, David Bowie and Freddie Mercury all got in common?”

“They’re all a million times more talented than you?” suggested Alan.

“They all use stage names to make themselves sound cooler. I mean, how successful would Elton John have been if he had gone around calling himself Reg Dwight? That sounds like some bloke who sells dodgy used cars.”

“Yes, but I can’t believe you’re seriously suggesting calling yourself Rick Jagger,” said Alan. “That’s just going to make you look ridiculous.”

“How about Ricky Le Bon?” said Wendy, tongue-in-cheek, knowing it would wind him up further.

“Ricky Manilow?” suggested Benny, to further laughter, and to Wendy’s approval. There was no way Benny would have dared say such a thing a few months earlier. It was another sign of how much their landlord’s hold over all of them had weakened.

“Mock all you want but you’re not going to get far with boring names like Alan Brooks and Stephen Benwell. It makes you sound like what you are – two nonentities who work on a removal van.”

“At least I do a proper day’s graft, mate, not like you, sitting around in your poncey office all day in your suit trying to con people into paying over the odds for shoeboxes,” replied Alan. “Anyway, moving on, what’s happening about this gig at The Nelson tonight?”

“I’ve already told you, we’re not playing at that dive,” said Wendy, and with good reason.

In the old timeline they had played there, and it had descended into chaos. The Nelson had a reputation for being one of the roughest pubs in Oxford, which was more than justified. The band had not performed well in the face of a hostile atmosphere all evening, and eventually a fight had broken out.

It was one of those that spread like wildfire until most of the pub was participating. During the melee, one of the aggressors had hit on the idea of using the band’s instruments as weapons, knocking Ricky to the ground before grabbing his guitar and whacking another brawler over the head with it.

This had been the final nail in the coffin of Velvet Temptation. Emily had already left the band by then, and with all their instruments wrecked, and morale destroyed, they had called it a day. From that point onwards, Wendy’s slide into addiction had worsened, setting up the pattern for the years to follow. There was no way she wanted to repeat that. Every time playing at The Nelson had been mentioned, there had been a red warning from the bracelet, which was another good reason to steer clear.

“Come on, Wendy, this was all agreed weeks ago,” protested Alan.

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