Chapter One
Anne Richardson was
backstage wondering how she had been persuaded to do this gig. She was not in
the best of moods. An April shower had caught her unawares and she was drenched
from head to toe. Her long brown hair was not looking its best, and her shoes
were damp and smelly. Things could only get better, couldn’t they? Being a
musician was very rewarding most of the time, but not today! Her usual cool and
calm demeanor was absent. She was red faced and rushed.
The back changing room of
the concert hall, where the band was getting ready, was dark, dilapidated, dingy
and in need of decorating. Their manager, Carlos, had decided that they should
perform in their 80’s outfits. This involved lots of black and far too many
chains, four inch nails and giant safety pins. For a group of girls in their
early thirties, it looked a bit out of place.
Carlos was wearing his
usual afghan coat, over a tatty T shirt and torn jeans. He had the appearance
of an unscrupulous wheeler dealer and his deep South American accent made him
sound dishonest. His long wavy black hair was tied back in a huge bundle. The
girls took him on because his client list included at least two top forty acts.
They figured he must know what he was doing.
The full line up of their
band, known as the Kovergirls, was as follows;
Gail – Lead Vocals and Guitar.
Never wore enough clothes and her skirts were always far too short. To complete
her eighties look she had put some holes in her black opaque tights.
Narinda – Vocals and Lead
Guitar. She had black hair, black beads, black dress, black Dr. Marten boots and
black makeup. Everything was black!
Anne – Keyboards, Vocals
and band leader. The good looking one who always looked cool and calm, but not
today! Anne was wearing bright pink jeans with matching pink cowboy boots. Her
black, semi sheer, flouncy blouse finished off the look.
Kate – Drums. Permanently
attached to her Metallica T shirts and torn Levi jeans.
For this concert, the
fifth and occasional member, Naze was joining them on Bass Guitar and Vocals.
As everyone knows, bass players are notoriously unreliable and moody. Naze was true
to form and very unreliable and moody. When she was on a high, like today, she
was great. The Kovergirls had used many bass players in their first year as a
band, but Naze was the best musician by far. She was dressed in black leather
trousers and black denim jacket.
“You girls are looking
lovely today.” Carlos made even the simplest of compliments sound a little bit
sleazy. But since he had taken them on last November, Anne had to admit that
they were playing good gigs most weekends and they were getting a bit of a name
locally. For this particular gig, Carlos had hired a huge state of the art PA
system from one of his other acts. The setup had taken an hour but it did sound
good and loud. The sound man obviously knew his stuff. This would be the
biggest gig the “Kovergirls” had ever played. There would be at least six
hundred and fifty people in the audience.
Anne was used to playing in
front of very large audiences. As a classically trained pianist she had played
in orchestras, where there could be thousands of paying concert goers. The
thought of playing a freebie concert, to a room full of old war veteran guys and
their families, did not thrill her one bit. Carlos was insistent that the band
needed this gig, and he must be obeyed at all times.
The lineup also included
Darrell Rufus, a stand-up comedian. At the age of forty seven he was purposely
a bit scruffy. Darrell had seen better days. He wore a Saville Row suit that
used to fit him when he was thirty pounds lighter than his current two hundred
and ten pounds. His humour was beginning to sound a bit old-fashioned in 2013. He
was one of the story telling types of comedian, who led you down a tale and
then twisted it on its head at the end to get the laugh.
The trouble was that some
people didn’t have time for his long tales.
Anne Richardson was
backstage wondering how she had been persuaded to do this gig. She was not in
the best of moods. An April shower had caught her unawares and she was drenched
from head to toe. Her long brown hair was not looking its best, and her shoes
were damp and smelly. Things could only get better, couldn’t they? Being a
musician was very rewarding most of the time, but not today! Her usual cool and
calm demeanor was absent. She was red faced and rushed.
The back changing room of
the concert hall, where the band was getting ready, was dark, dilapidated, dingy
and in need of decorating. Their manager, Carlos, had decided that they should
perform in their 80’s outfits. This involved lots of black and far too many
chains, four inch nails and giant safety pins. For a group of girls in their
early thirties, it looked a bit out of place.
Carlos was wearing his
usual afghan coat, over a tatty T shirt and torn jeans. He had the appearance
of an unscrupulous wheeler dealer and his deep South American accent made him
sound dishonest. His long wavy black hair was tied back in a huge bundle. The
girls took him on because his client list included at least two top forty acts.
They figured he must know what he was doing.
The full line up of their
band, known as the Kovergirls, was as follows;
Gail – Lead Vocals and Guitar.
Never wore enough clothes and her skirts were always far too short. To complete
her eighties look she had put some holes in her black opaque tights.
Narinda – Vocals and Lead
Guitar. She had black hair, black beads, black dress, black Dr. Marten boots and
black makeup. Everything was black!
Anne – Keyboards, Vocals
and band leader. The good looking one who always looked cool and calm, but not
today! Anne was wearing bright pink jeans with matching pink cowboy boots. Her
black, semi sheer, flouncy blouse finished off the look.
Kate – Drums. Permanently
attached to her Metallica T shirts and torn Levi jeans.
For this concert, the
fifth and occasional member, Naze was joining them on Bass Guitar and Vocals.
As everyone knows, bass players are notoriously unreliable and moody. Naze was true
to form and very unreliable and moody. When she was on a high, like today, she
was great. The Kovergirls had used many bass players in their first year as a
band, but Naze was the best musician by far. She was dressed in black leather
trousers and black denim jacket.
“You girls are looking
lovely today.” Carlos made even the simplest of compliments sound a little bit
sleazy. But since he had taken them on last November, Anne had to admit that
they were playing good gigs most weekends and they were getting a bit of a name
locally. For this particular gig, Carlos had hired a huge state of the art PA
system from one of his other acts. The setup had taken an hour but it did sound
good and loud. The sound man obviously knew his stuff. This would be the
biggest gig the “Kovergirls” had ever played. There would be at least six
hundred and fifty people in the audience.
Anne was used to playing in
front of very large audiences. As a classically trained pianist she had played
in orchestras, where there could be thousands of paying concert goers. The
thought of playing a freebie concert, to a room full of old war veteran guys and
their families, did not thrill her one bit. Carlos was insistent that the band
needed this gig, and he must be obeyed at all times.
The lineup also included
Darrell Rufus, a stand-up comedian. At the age of forty seven he was purposely
a bit scruffy. Darrell had seen better days. He wore a Saville Row suit that
used to fit him when he was thirty pounds lighter than his current two hundred
and ten pounds. His humour was beginning to sound a bit old-fashioned in 2013. He
was one of the story telling types of comedian, who led you down a tale and
then twisted it on its head at the end to get the laugh.
The trouble was that some
people didn’t have time for his long tales.
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