Nico by James Young

Author:James Young
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Bisac Code 1: BIO000000; BIO004000; BIO013000
ISBN: 9781468309843
Publisher: Overlook
Published: 2014-02-09T16:00:00+00:00

Civitavecchia

The harmonium was swaddled in its old blanket, like a refugee’s sad bundle. It was Nico’s only real possession. Without it she had nothing to trade – even though its bronchial wheeze spelt instant death to the disco children. Nico’s songs of mortality and decay were not compatible with the dominant rhythm of the eighties, especially not for honeymoon couples and resort developers.

A swarm of ants was teeming about their insane and remorseless duty at my feet. It was 3.00 p.m. Siesta. The cicadas were chattering and telegraphing their nervous messages to one another. Our backsides were burning on a hot stone bench. Nothing of human intent or design was moving on Civitavecchia station. Except a single, silent tear down the side of Nico’s face.

‘I guess I’m through,’ she said.

I stared down at the ants.

‘They want disco music now.’

I put my arm around her shoulder. She was sweating and shuddering. She looked up at the sky, trying to keep back the tears that were brimming in her eyes. This wasn’t the familiar withdrawal hysteria I’d seen all too often before. Certainly the smack wasn’t coating every nerve and cushioning reality; instead what she was seeing was more than just her misery, what she was feeling was more than her self-pity.

‘What can I do? I can’t do anything else.’

‘You’ve still got your voice,’ I said. ‘Can’t you write some more songs? You need to make a record – get your face about a bit. It’s no good busking around discos hoping to pick up pennies to score. People have got to want to see you.’

‘I know. I know,’ she sighed, weary at the prospect of having to rebuild her derelict career.

‘But look,’ I said, trying to reassure her, ‘it’s not like you have to start from nowhere. People don’t need to be convinced. It’s just …’ How to put it? ‘… It’s just that, well … you’re bone idle.’

She looked at me, curiously, then laughed. ‘I guess you’re right … Aaandy always said I was laaazy.’

‘You should make a record, Nico – then the tours’ll have some meaning. You won’t need to play seaside discos.’

Le Kid was endlessly making and remaking his one silly little joint with a few meagre crumbs of hash. ‘My muzzerre should play –’

I came in on the chorus. ‘Don’t tell me – ‘Ze Carnegie ’All.’

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