Page 15 of Marley
I eventually wake up just after noon. After a quick coffee and the bowl of porridge Ash insists I have to eat every day, I go back to the study and start reading...
1985
The next few weeks were the stuff of dreams. Our album broke into the top ten on the Tuesday charts, just a day after its release. It was number one by the following week.
The entire UK tour was a sell-out, and extra dates were added where possible.
Maca’s birthday arrived, but there was no sign of Georgia.
Until that point, we had been on our best behaviour?back to our hotel rooms, or just to the bar for a few quiet drinks, but not Maca. He just went back to our room alone as soon as each show ended.
Kombat Rock were still the headline act, but everyone knew it was us that people were turning out for, and that pissed Rocco off on a nightly basis.
He had kept his distance since Whorely Gate, but was still partying up in his room or backstage after each show.
On the night of Maca’s birthday, the entire crowd sang an impromptu rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ as we returned to the stage for our encore. After Maca said a few words, thanking the crowd for turning out, buying the new album and their support in general, it meant that KR started their set about fifteen minutes late.
As we left the stage and they headed on, Rocco called over to Maca.
“Hey, birthday boy.” We all turned to look at him.
“You want me to call up Haley so you can celebrate with some coke and a side of rape later?”
Maca never got a chance to reply. Tommy stuck the nut on him and put him straight on his arse. For anyone Non-English reading this, Tommy head butted Rocco, knocking him onto his backside.
The fight that ensued after was just what we needed as a band. We once again became one, a unit, all looking out for each other. It was over as quickly as it began, but I landed one punch right to Wayne Allen, KR’s drummers jaw, and dodged all that were thrown my way. Maca was dragged away by Len before he had a chance to do anything. Rocco tried to stand, but Tom caught him in the gut and sent him to the floor again. Billy ended up the worst, with their guitarists both landing punches to his pretty face before one of our roadies stepped in and separated things.
We were all eventually hauled back to our changing room where Maca was pacing and shouting at Len that he’d had enough and wanted to quit.
Tom pulled a bottle of bourbon from somewhere and we passed it between us, each taking a swig.
We were silent for a few minutes. My hand hurt, but I wasn’t about to admit that in front of Len. Billy’s nose was bleeding and Tommy had a wet towel wrapped around his knuckles. The door flew open and Jim walked in. She’d sort of fallen into the job of Len’s assistant since she’d joined us and the label had put her on a wage. She mainly dealt with the press and booked our hotel rooms so everything was ready when we arrived at the next town.
“What the fuck just happened?” Her eyes met Lens, “You okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s this lot that think they’re Rocky.”
She lifted my hand and looked at the split skin on my knuckle. “Go run that under the tap and I’ll get some ice. Otherwise, you won’t be able to play tomorrow night.”
She followed me into the bathroom and placed a small hand towel under the running cold tap, then shoved my hand under the flow.
Jim and I didn’t talk much anymore. Things hadn’t been great for years, but they’d been even worse since Paris. We both stared down at my hand as I held it under the running water.
“Have you spoken to George at all?” I eventually ask. She shrugged her shoulders before answering.
“A few times, but it’s hard, ya know?” She gestured with her chin out to where the boys were.
“She doesn’t want to hear anything about him, the band, or ...”
“Me.” I finished for her.
“Look, Marls. She’s hurt and she’s angry. She’ll come around eventually, she’s just really struggling right now and dealing with all this shit in her own way.”
I nodded my head as my belly did continuous forward rolls.
“I don’t think she’s ignoring you as such,” She continued, “its just that talking to you, it’s like talking to him and she’s not ready for that.” I licked my bottom lip a couple of times to try and hide the fact that it had developed a wobble.
‘Don’t cry. Don’t you dare fucking cry.’I repeated over and over in my head.
