The Jonah by Herbert James

Author:Herbert, James [Herbert, James]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 0330376217
Publisher: Pan Books
Published: 1981-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

April, 1969

He had been feeling bad all night. He always did when he’d had a row with the old man. And that was pretty frequent nowadays.

But Christ, it was his life! He had a right to choose for himself.

Giggles made him turn towards the small rostrum which served as a stage, where the group were packing away their gear, only the drum kit having a life of its own once the plugs had been pulled. Several girls stood around them, trying to chat up the musicians who kidded themselves that their regular gig in the Downbeat, a hall above a pub at Manor House, was just a stepping stone towards Shea Stadium. Even the fact that both the bass player and the drummer were into their thirties – the latter was already washing his hair three times a week to disguise its thinness – did not dampen their ambition. If the lead guitarist would start playing more like Eric Clapton than Hank Marvin, they knew they’d be made. If the lead singer stopped trying to be Buddy Holly their image might improve, too – Heard It on the Grapevine didn’t exactly go with the Holly style.

‘You coming, Jim?’

Two of his friends were making their way through the crowd shuffling towards the only exit. One was pulling on a shortie raincoat, while the other was tying a slim, tartan scarf around his neck. His wire-framed glasses and long flowing hair endeavoured to make him look like John Lennon, but the padded shoulders of his three-button jacket and his Harry Fenton shirt spoilt the illusion.

‘Where you off to?’ Kelso asked, swaying slightly from the booze consumed throughout the evening in the downstairs bar.

‘Up the Royal. There’s nothing here.’

Max, the one who had just spoken, pulled up the collar of his raincoat, then adjusted his kipper tie. He had a secondhand Ford Anglia parked around the corner and the idea was to drive up to Tottenham where a larger assortment of girls would soon be leaving the big dance hall there; it was usually easy to pull some birds if you had a car and it was raining – none of them liked getting their Vidal Sassoons wet waiting for buses.

‘No, I don’t think so, not tonight. Think I’ve had enough.’

Max shrugged; he and his companion, Tony, were used to Kelso poodling off on his own. It usually meant he had a dolly lined up, but tonight they hadn’t even seen him dance, let alone set up a lumber.

‘Come on, Jim,’ Tony urged. ‘It’s only eleven. You’ve just turned nineteen – you’re a big boy now, for fuck’s sake.’ He, too, was swaying slightly from the drink. He liked to kid people that he was high on weed, but the truth was he’d never tried the stuff, and didn’t even know where to get it. And the old bennies were becoming a bit pricey.

‘You two go on. I’ve had it for tonight,’ Kelso told them.

‘Suit yourself, Jimbo, but I’m telling you now, we’re going to score tonight.

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