“You are going to hell,” the woman shouted as she was led away. “This is the work of Satan.”
“Fuck you. Fuck Satan. Fuck everything about you,” Paige yelled. “To Christian Outrage – the bunch of fucking cunts – I dedicate this song to you.” She nodded towards Jack and Claire. “Even My Dog Wants You Dead.”
* * * * *
“That's on your best behaviour?” Andre shouted at Paige. “You are the first item of every news bulletin, and probably on Page 1 of every newspaper. And Page 3, is that what you want?”
“Well Flee didn't mind. She quite liked it. She is so awesome,” Paige crooned. “Ahhh … she is just so … chilled. I want to be like her.”
“Yes, I would quite like you to be like her too. And I know you have a lot of anger in you Paige, but seriously, if you want to make it to the top, you need to leave some of this teenage aggression behind.”
“Well Flee thought it great,” Paige snapped.
“You have got her show more publicity than she could ever imagine.”
“Yeah … and?”
“Paige. You are playing Sue Garratt's game. She is using you to get publicity for her cause.”
“But … she's attacked my family,” the angry girl shouted. “She's fucked me off. I am not having that.”
“She's winning,” Andre said calmly. “I see it all the time. She wanted a reaction, and you gave her one.”
“She'll be getting a lot more if she does it again,” Paige yelled back at him. “I'll …”
“No,” Andre shouted. “Just listen. It's not going to get better while you are getting angry. She's … well, you are doing everything she wants you to.” He looked at Claire who slipped her hand into his and squeezed it.
“We'll not do anything else,” Claire promised. “We'll calm down.”
“Just please do.” His eyes met Claire's who smiled at him. “But apart from that, it was a great set. Just tomorrow, go and do whatever makes you calm. Flee has one more Wembley date and I can't face another day of angry Paige.”
Paige seethed and kicked a chair across the room. “I'll take her out somewhere,” Jack promised Claire and Andre in a quiet voice. “She'll be fine in a couple of days time.”
* * * * *
Paige rolled her ball down the bowling alley and turned triumphantly to her companion. “Strike!”
“Lucky,” Jack moaned and looked up at the board. He threw his hands onto the bench and cried out. “That's the second time you've beaten me on the last roll,” he complained and Paige slipped her bowling shoes off.
“So that's two games to nil,” she teased and rubbed her hands. “How good am I?”
“Singing, tent assembly, bowling. Is there no end to your talents?” Paige laughed at his coltish chortling, and he slid his feet into his trainers. “You hungry?”
“I'm starving,” Paige moaned and took Jack's hand as they walked back across the bowling alley and deposited their shoes at the counter. She yawned and apologised.
“Hey,” a voice called and they turned to face a young group of teenagers. “Can we have an autograph?”
“Us?”
“Yeah,” they cried and pulled out pens. Paige looked at Jack, and they signed T-shirts, white shorts, and Jack was asked to sign one of the girl's rear end.
Paige giggled as he signed the teenage girl's bare bottom, and the group of fans fired a multitude of questions at the two members of their favourite band which Paige did her best to answer. “Come on,” Jack gestured and waved at the small group of teenagers. “We gotta go.”
“Why?”
“Because one of them will put a picture of the autograph on the 'net and we'll be inundated.”
“That's a bit crazy,” Paige shouted in response, but they ran down the street and went into a small café. “Is this safe?” Paige asked and checked under the table jokingly. “I don't see anyone.”
“It's not funny,” Jack moaned. “I still want a private life. Or how can I take out women for a quiet night out?”
Paige sniggered. “Yeah. Like that's gonna happen! Poor little Jack needs some groupies instead!”
“No. I didn't say that,” he replied and picked up the menu and told Paige to pick what she wanted to eat.
Paige made her selection and went up to order, but Jack pulled her back so he could pay for, and order, their meals. Paige groaned, but he returned with a wooden spoon and a giant number on it. “The waitress asked could she take a photo of us with her. And I said yes,” Jack told her.
Paige shook her head, but the young waitress was overexcited when she brought two coffees to the table. “Thank you,” the young lady blurted. “I so love your songs, they are so … deep. And the guitar solos are just crazy and … oh shit, you haven't split up have you. Where's Claire?”
“Claire is not with us, but we haven't split up,” Paige answered and the waitress hovered. “Excuse me,” Paige called to a couple on a neighbouring table. “Would you mind taking a picture?”
“Oh yeah, right,” the uniformed woman muttered and passed her mobile phone to the couple, and then crouched down in front of them, allowing Paige and Jack to lean onto the table.
“See what I mean,” Jack said the moment the waitress had left. “I can hardly take a girl out on a date, knowing that most of the time I would be paying attention to other people.” Paige shrugged.
“Maybe you need to find someone who knows what's like. Someone who would be understanding.”
“Someone like …” Jack stopped as Paige reached for her phone.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “It's Hazel.” She pressed the button. “What is it? I'm with Jack having lunch.”
“Paige!” The stressed voice cried. “It's Jeremy. He's been beaten up, and we are going to the hospital.”
“Shit! Right, I'll be right with you.”
Chapter XX
Paul straightened his tie and coughed. He looked around the small conference venue and sat down at the front of a table. Sue Garratt passed him and sat down, and she adjusted the microphone in front of Paul.
“Just as we discussed,” the elderly woman suggested as she whispered in his ear. Paul nodded, and tapped the table, before taking a gulp of water.
He was not used to being in front of so many cameras and microphones, and there were hundreds of people in the room. Behind him was a board with Christian Outrage's logo, and around him were prominent members of the action group.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” their press officer cried and clapped her hands together to get silence in the room. “Paul Rees-Montague, father of Jack Rees-Montague, and Sue Garratt, founder and leader of Christian Outrage would like to make a statement. There will be time for questions at the end.”
Sue furrowed her brow and cleared her throat. “Thank you Jenny. Yes, we have called this press conference in response to the actions yesterday of the music band The Bare Necessities and … er … their continuing war against morality and the Christian faith.”
Paul nodded as Sue spoke. She was authoritative and clear, looking directly at the camera as she spoke and gestured warmly towards Paul. “Jack's father is distraught. He is devastated that his son, his only son, would get involved with two of the nastiest elements of our society. Who care not, for other people's beliefs and who wish to spread their message of hate and immorality throughout our society.”
Sue ranted about the naked protest at her church, Paige's uninvited appearance on Peter Moran's radio show and their arrest a few days previous while equating their performances as worthy of Satan.
“Mark Riordan, The Mirror. If you could say anything to your son, what would it be?” Paul was asked, and all eyes turned to the nervous father sat alongside Sue Garratt.
Paul sighed and rested his elbows on the table, in front of one of the microphones. “I'd tell him to come home. I'd tell him to stop all this silliness and to stop breaking the law. He will end up in prison, and it's just 'cause he is chasing the two girls. They are leading him on
. They are bad influences. I mean, interrupting a church service, that's out of order. He needs to stop.”
“And that is why Christian Outrage is calling on everyone to boycott their shows, their records, their tatty merchandise and their website. They only exist because people have given them attention. So a message to all Christians, boycott them.”
Paul nodded, and a stray hand emerged from the end of the room. “Lucinda, Lucinda Rees-Montague. Friend of The Bare Necessities and sister of Paul. I'm writing for their website. What are your thoughts on members of your terrorist cell, rioting outside the young girl's house, frightening the shit out of her family and another trying to attack her on stage? That doesn't sound all that Christian, does it?”
Lucinda looked at two members of the security staff move in behind her as Sue Garratt stuttered over the question. “We are not bad people here …”
“Most people think you are,” Lucinda interrupted and smirked. “Most people think that attacking the family home containing minors to be the work of truly evil people. And my brother there, talking with you, he's done some evil things in the past. Surprised you want to share a platform with the dishonest little twat.” There was a gasp as Lucinda spoke.
“You're the one leading my son astray,” Paul shouted and stood up. “Arrest that woman.”
“I'm not leading Jack astray,” Lucinda snapped derisively. “That's Paige's job.” The journalist pencils scribbled down the shouting match as Lucinda felt her arm get grabbed from behind.
“Get out!” Sue shouted. “This is an outrage.”
Lucinda shook her head. “Once you've answered the question. Do you think attacking children is good?”
“Get her out, please. Trouble-maker.” The figure of Jenny, Christian Outrage's PR lady, watched as Lucinda was dragged out of the small venue, kicking and screaming before the door was locked and Sue apologised.
Irrespective of what Sue had said, Lucinda's appearance and admission that Paige was interested in Jack, would be the only story from their news conference.
* * * * *
“See what you've done,” the angry face of her father shouted at Paige as she walked into the private room.
“What have I done?” Paige asked and looked at Hazel and her mother, who were averting their eyes.
“This,” he shouted and pointed towards Jeremy lay on the bed. Jeremy's face was swollen and red. He had a number of stitches on the side of his face, and his eyesocket was black and blue.
“This is nothing to do with me,” the red-headed teenager shouted. “What the hell happened?”
“This has everything to do with you,” he yelled, his veins throbbing in his face. He glared at his daughter. “What have I told you about our naturism, it is not something you shout about. People don't understand.”
“Well I'm … This better not be Christian Outrage. Or else I am getting baseball bats and explosives.”
“No!” He yelled. “This is not Christian Outrage. This is how some people react to naturism. And this stops. Now.”
“I won't be forced to stop,” Paige replied and crossed her arms. “This is my life, and if this isn't Christian Outrage or Peter Moran, then this attack has nothing to do with me. But I will …”
“Tell her.” Jeremy bit his lip and his father had to force him to recount the story he had only recently divulged.
“Some lads at school have been picking on me since you went public. Saying you were a slut, and that we were weird for going naked. And …”
“And what?” A shocked Paige asked. “What?”
“That I must be gay for going on such holidays.”
“Yeah, spend the day sitting around looking at naked girls. That sounds well gay,” Paige replied sanctimoniously. “But what has you going naked got to do with this?”
“They found me this morning and beat me up. Three of them.”
Paige played with her hair as she gulped and thought for a moment. “Names. I want names.”
“It doesn't matter.”
“I want names,” Paige demanded. Jeremy hesitated, and Paige looked at him. “This will not go unpunished.”
Jeremy hummed as Paige's eyes bored into him. “Leroy, Gavin and Dan,” he admitted and buried his face in his hands before tearing them away as he came into contact with his bruises.
“Paige darling,” her mother muttered. “Could we, you know, tone it down a bit. I've had people come into the shop and talk 'bout it. You're upsetting church folk as well and it's making it difficult for us. I know you like controversy and I bet your agent is happy with you, but just tone it down, please?”
“I thought you were proud,” Paige shouted with tears in her eyes.
“We are dear but …”
“But you don't want me to do it?” Paige asked her mother but her father responded.
“Not naked, no. Time and place, dear.” He sighed. “I've had half my factory come up and tell me that they've seen my daughter in the buff. You think I want to hear that? You think any father wants to hear that? Hear what they want to do with you.” Paige gulped.
“It's not about sex.”
“Yes, I know that, but they don't. And this is causing problems for Jeremy, here.”
“I am not stopping,” Paige told him. “I like it too much, and I'm not hurting anyone.” Her eyes narrowed as her father pointed to the bed. “I am not responsible for this.”
“OK. You gotta stop getting involved with the posh bastard,” Robert Simmons demanded. “The Rees-Montague family are bad news. I said they would cause trouble.”
Paige screwed up her face. “I know you don't like the upper class, Dad, but he's fine.”
“He isn't. There is something wrong with that family.” Paige scoffed. “But I asked you, and now I am telling you, you will do as you are told,” her father shouted and Paige shook her head. “While you are under my roof …”
“I shall move out then,” Paige spat back and pulled out her mobile phone. “I shall go if I am not wanted at home.”
“Paige,” Hazel shouted, but Paige slammed the door as she departed and called Jack.
* * * * *
“Paige,” Andre demanded. The concert organisers have said you are not to go naked.”
“And what does Flee say? It is her concert.”
“I don't think it's relevant,” Andre told her. “Not relevant at all.”
“I think it is,” Paige told him, and the naked girl crossed her arms.
“And you are not to do the whole get on stage with clothes and take them off.”
Paige shrugged. “Would I do a thing like that?”
“They say they will cut you off if you start playing silly buggers, Paige. They've had complaints and legal letters. They don't want to lose their license, Paige. Just for once, please.”
“Sorry Andre, we told you that. I can't be clothed. It just doesn't feel right.”
“If you do strip, you could be arrested. All three of you.”
Paige sneered. “What again? You think they could come up with something a little more original.”
“How about jail,” Andre asked her. “Just for once, please, try and not get yourself on the news. Let's just do a gig and get home at a decent time, instead of phoning for a lawyer and then the Press Association.” Paige took a deep breath and groaned, grabbing her oversized T-shirt and putting it over her body. She shrugged and looked at Claire and Jack who reluctantly reached for their own garments. “Better,” Andre told them in a patronising voice. “And you got five minutes.”
Jack waited for Andre to leave their dressing room and looked at Paige. “How will you sing?”
“Naked,” Paige replied back. “But I got a few things to say first! And Flee's concert is going out live again, did you know that?”
“Yes, we did,” Claire told her, and they both glared at the grinning face of Paige. They didn't get any time to question their uncontrollable lead singer as she led them from their dressing room to the side of the stage and the
n onto the stage with a deafening roar, interspersed with a few boos.
“Hi,” Paige said into the microphone and looked over the audience. “Bet'cha all wondering why I'm clothed. Well the organisers have had some complaints and have said that unless I am covered up they will cut our session, and I will be arrested.” The few boos turned into a torrent of angry hisses and jeers, directed towards the concert organisers. “Of course, they are not the only people not to understand naturism. Christian Outrage, Peter Moran …” Paige waited for the animated booing and catcalling to die down before continuing. “My brother is in hospital at the moment because three guys beat him up. They are gay, and my brother said 'no' to them, but they thought he was gay as he went to naturist camp sites. This is stupid, but if any gay guy wants a piece of teenage arse, just ask for Leroy, Gavin or Dan in Croydon … and then maybe they will leave the rest of us alone.” Paige giggled as the crowd listened and she looked towards her two bandmates. “They are as bent as you can get. Right guys, start with Hot and Cold?”
They nodded, and she turned back to the audience. “Just one more thing …” Paige put the microphone on its stand and pulled her T-shirt from her waist and over her head, before throwing it into the audience. “To every concert organiser, policeman, talk show host and religious nutter out there: I DON'T SING CLOTHED.” She looked up at the sky and shrugged as the crowd whistled in delight and she waited for the intro for her first song as Jack and Claire disrobed behind her. “And I won't be told what to do by small-minded bigots,” she said firmly before launching into her first song.
Paige managed the first half of the song before the power to their instruments was cut, and a harassed man ran onto the stage. “Get dressed!” He ordered.
“No,” Paige shouted to cries of boos around them. “Listen to them. They came to see the Bare Necessities.”
“You've got to get dressed. Your agent promised.”
“Yeah well he lied. He's an agent. Get used to it.”
“I cannot let you continue.” Paige picked up the microphone and waved it in front of her.
“Paige,” Jack called. “Perhaps …”
“I can't sing,” the animated teenager shouted. “They came to see us sing. You want us to go home?”
He stumbled as the booing and jeering turned angry and he put his hands together. “Please.”