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No Half Measures
by Jenny Walker
© 2003
CHAPTER 13
I spent most of the morning in bed and didn't feel too good about myself when I finally did surface. Claire was right. I was going to have to sort out what I felt. Easier said than done. At the very least, I was going to have to learn better self control. I felt really foolish when I thought about how I had behaved. I could make a lot of excuses: alcohol, the atmosphere, whatever. But it still came down to me not thinking through what I was doing. I couldn't afford to get into another situation like that. First Paul, now Phil. I had to be careful.
I dressed simply in a beige sweater and my blue jeans. Minimal makeup. After last night, I knew I needed to tone it down. For my parents sake, but also for my own. I found Claire at the kitchen table eating breakfast. I checked the kitchen clock, it was just after midday. I joined her and poured a bowl of cereal.
"Claire," I began hesitantly, "about last night, you were totally right. I acted stupidly and I feel really embarrassed now. I'm going to try and catch myself on and think a lot more before acting in future."
She waved a hand at me, "Hey, it's really none of my business and I probably said too much last night." She paused, "But I do worry for you. I mean you've gone from being, how can I put it…," she wrinkled her nose.
I grinned, "Say whatever you were going to say."
She shrugged, "You've gone from being Mr. Average to almost overnight becoming the object of every red blooded male's fantasy. The rest of us girls have had a lifetime of getting used to dealing with male interest. You haven't."
I nodded, "I've a lot of catching up to do and quick."
She grinned, "Especially if you're going to be strutting your stuff before the world of teenage males on Top of the Pops."
I laughed, "A long way to go before that."
She shook her head, "I don't think it will be that long." She smiled, "I saw you on that stage last night. The way you sang, the way you performed."
I laughed self consciously, "Now stop that or I'll blush." I decided to change the subject, "Where are Mum and Dad?"
Claire grimaced, "They left about 20 minutes ago. Good timing you! They are away to visit some old friends for the day."
I grinned, "Did they give you a hard time?"
She rolled her eyes, "Did they ever! I got another mini lecture about how I should know better and not be encouraging you in such ways. They asked about what happened last night."
"And you said?"
Claire shrugged and took another mouthful of cereal, "I said you danced and sang on stage like a tramp and then jumped on Phil and snogged the face off him."
For a moment she had me, "No…"
She grinned, "I told them we chatted and danced and had a quiet night. You planning on telling them anything different."
I chuckled, "What like, you mean about…Brian?"
She sniggered and waved her spoon at me, "He's a nice guy, but I doubt anything will come of it."
I played the concerned sister, "Claire really at your age you should be thinking of settling down and not going for one night gratification with young men."
She stuck her tongue out at me. I laughed and changed the subject yet again. "So, you're free this afternoon," I asked.
She nodded, "What are you planning?"
I shrugged, "Might be a long shot, but how you do fancy driving me to Pembroke?"
She set her spoon down, "Pembroke? Are you serious? What's this about, you want to take a walk down memory lane, the old homestead? Come on, it's like a hundred miles away."
I nodded, "I know that. It's a loose end that I think I need to tie up."
She looked puzzled, "What on earth is it?"
I paused, "Look Claire, I've got new ID documents and all in the name of Nicola Evans. I'm not supposed to tell you that and I can't tell you how I got them so don't ask."
Claire nodded, "That morning you and Dad went out." She was sharp.
I shrugged, "I can't say alright? But basically, there won't be much official trace of Nick Evans. Which obviously if Cara Malone makes it onto Top of the Pops as you say, will be very important. But there is a major loophole remaining."
Claire nodded and clicked her fingers, "Your old school record."
I sighed, "You're too darn smart, always have been and it really irritates me sometimes."
She grinned, "Anyways, go on then and tell me what you are thinking. Please tell me that we aren't going to break into the school and falsify your records?"
I laughed, "That is plan B. But hopefully plan A will work out."
She drummed her fingers on the table with frustration, "Come on, out with it and tell me what you are planning."
I nodded, "OK, well I was thinking about how to go about this. I don't want to break in obviously. So I need someone who will change the records for me."
Claire narrowed her eyes, "Who on earth would do that?"
"Mrs. Forbes."
"Mrs. Forbes," Claire repeated thoughtfully, "You think she would do it?"
Mrs. Forbes was the music teacher at Pembroke High. She had always encouraged me to pursue my talent and my dreams, she had always been a support and help to me at school. Before I left school she told me she would be watching out for my name to appear in the headlines sometime in the future and made me promise to keep in touch. I had broken the promise. "Yes, well I think she might help me. And I heard she was made Vice-Principal so she should have access to the records. I don't know what else to try."
Claire nodded and looked thoughtful, "And you think you really need to do this?"
I shrugged, "I would hope not. If someone goes to such lengths looking into my past, this probably isn't even enough. But I don't know if I can leave it to chance."
She nodded and mused, "Yes, I guess this would be a tabloid newspaper's dream. Well have you at least spoken to Mrs. Forbes?"
I shook my head, "I looked up the phone number in the directory but haven't phoned yet. I wanted to check if you could run me down there today if needed."
She sighed, "The things I do for my sister. Go phone because if we are going down there, we should get going sooner rather than later."
I did as I was bid and grabbed the phone to take it into the next room. I dialled the number I had written down. Of course she might not be there; it was New Year's Day after all. Would she remember me? The phone was answered at the other end.
"Hello?" It was Mrs. Forbes. Oh crap, think Nick's voice.
"Err, hello Mrs. Forbes?"
"Yes, who is that?"
"Umm, you may not remember me, this is Nick Evans."
"Nicholas! Of course I remember. Why this is a surprise."
"Yes, sorry to phone out of the blue like this, but I well, sort of need a favour."
She sounded puzzled, "Oh? What is it?"
I paused, "I know this sounds really strange, but I would rather talk about it face to face. You still work in the school?"
"Yes. Are you alright? You sound a little strange."
"Yes I'm fine. But I do need to talk to you. Today. If that's OK?"
A little pause, "Well alright. I'm not going anywhere. Do you know where I live?"
She gave me the address and I wrote it down. I figured I had better say a little more before turning up. "I'll be coming with my sister Claire, you may remember her. But just to let you know, I'm quite different now to how you remember me."
She was really confused now, "Are you sure you are alright Nick?"
"Yes I'm sure. I'll explain everything when we get there. We should be there in about two and a half hours."
----------*----------
It was a long tedious drive and I got the impression that Claire was not exactly overjoyed at being my chauffeur. Or chauffeuse? I wondered if that was a word or not. It was very strange to eventually drive back into our old home town. I hadn't been there since my parents moved to Cardiff three years ago. I had had no reason to return. Until now. We pulled up outside Mrs. Forbes semi-detached house and got out.
As I walked up the path, I realised that I was taking a bit of a chance. Mrs. Forbes would be another person to be added to 'the list'. I wondered what Jools would think of what I was doing and I realised I maybe should have given her a ring to at least tell her what I was planning. Too late now. I pressed the doorbell.
The door opened. "Hello?" Mrs. Forbes said without much evidence of recognition of Claire or myself. Then something clicked. She looked at Claire, "Oh I remember you, you are Claire Evans aren't you? But where is Nick then?"
She looked at me and I smiled sheepishly, "Hi Mrs. Forbes."
I got the wide-eyed astonished 'it can't be' look which I was getting quite familiar with. "Nick?" she gasped.
I smiled nervously, "Well it's sort of Nicola now."
She looked flustered, "Y-you'd better come in."
She told us to wait in the hallway for a moment and she went in and shooed her husband out the other door into the kitchen. She brought us in and we sat down. She apologised, "Sorry, but Cecil would find this even stranger to take in than me. Now what has happened to you?"
I grinned, "Where do I start? Well as you can see, I'm not living as Nick anymore, I've sort of had a major life change." I went on to explain a little about how my life had been going and how I felt now. I wanted to give her some background, but I didn't say anything about my music yet.
She listened and to her credit seemed to be trying to understand, "This is really quite incredible. I would not have recognised you at all. But I'm still at a loss to see where I fit in to this."
I nodded, "I've got a recording contract with Sony Music."
She took this in, "As Nicola I presume?"
"Well as Cara Malone. Stage name you know. But yes, as a female."
She nodded, "So you didn't make it as Nick ever?"
I shook my head and she continued, "You were one of the most gifted students I had ever taught. I really did think you would succeed."
I smiled, "I think I might be about to." I looked over at her piano, "May I show you?"
She smiled warmly, "Please do."
I sat down at the piano and pondered over which song to sing. Which would she appreciate most? I decided on 'Not dancing, but flying' as it was a piano driven soft ballad. I played the song and sang with as much feeling as I could muster.
"And whenever I will think or dream of you, we're not dancing, but flying."
I swivelled round on the stool and looked at her for her reaction. She clapped her hands, "Amazing. You've an even better voice now than you had before." She winked, "But you hit a B flat there instead of B in the third verse."
I laughed, "I blame you for some of my perfectionist tendencies you know."
The atmosphere was a little more relaxed now. Music had always been a strong bond between me and Mrs. Forbes. Most people have one teacher that has a major influence on them and she was mine.
"But you didn't come down here all this way just for me to tell you how good you are did you?" she asked.
I shook my head, "No. As you can imagine, no-one knows, well very few people know that Cara Malone was once Nick Evans. And as I am sure you can appreciate, it wouldn't exactly be helpful for this to come out. If I do succeed that is."
"Go on Nicola, tell me why you've come," she gently urged.
I sighed, "I know this is a lot to ask, but I was wondering if you would be able to help me to get my school records changed from a male Nicholas to a female Nicola."
She nodded slowly and took a deep breath. "I was beginning to think it would be something like this. This is a lot to ask you know."
I nodded, "I know, I'm really sorry to have to do it, but I couldn't think of any other way to do it. Well apart from breaking in, but Claire talked me out of that. I was just thinking that you know as you were Vice-Principal that you might be able to do this."
She smiled a strange smile, "Nic-ola, didn't you hear? I'm not the VP anymore."
My face fell and I felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach, "Oh." I sighed, "I really should have asked before I came all this way."
She gave a little chuckle, "It's alright. No, I'm not the VP. Nic-ola dear, I was made Principal of Pembroke High nine months ago."
I looked up at her and saw her wry grin. I didn't know what to think or hope. "Erm, does that mean you'll do it?"
She looked intently at me, "It means I could do it, but I'm not sure if I should. Falsifying records? If it were found out, I could in theory be dismissed."
I nodded. She was right of course. What right had I to ask her to put herself at risk. But then it came to me and I clicked my fingers, "What if I could give you irrefutable proof that you hadn't falsified the records?"
She looked at me curiously, "What are you talking about?"
"What if your 'amended' records simply agreed with my legal identity? Mrs. Forbes, I shouldn't say too much about this, but let's just say that if anyone viewed my passport or birth certificate, or checked any centrally stored government records, what they would find would be in accordance with what I am asking you to change my records to. So if there were any comeback on it, the school records would simply match my legal documents."
She pondered this and slowly nodded. "I see what you mean. I want to help you, so I'll do this." She paused, "Are you sure about what you are doing? I mean this is a drastic change."
I smiled and nodded, "I'd be lying if I said I didn't have some doubts or fears. But the thought of going back to my life the way it was is something I can barely conceive. So, I'm fairly sure, not completely sure. But are we ever completely sure of anything?"
She nodded, "Fair point. Alright well it seems as if Nicola Evans is going to become the most gifted student I ever had."
"Mrs. Forbes, will anyone else at the school find out about this?"
She shrugged, "Past pupil records are only accessed if a specific request comes in. Like from an employer wanting a report of conduct, confirmation of exam results and the like. There is no other reason for anyone to look them up."
I nodded, "I really appreciate this. Thank you so much. I know I probably don't have to say it, but can you keep all this to yourself?"
She winked, "I was planning on telling Mr. Harkins."
I laughed and winced all at the same time. Mr. Harkins was the Physical Education teacher who had tried unsuccessfully to engage my interest in some form of sport. Whereas I had spent my time making excuses to head off to the music department. I grinned, "Well if you do, tell him I am running and working out most mornings now. More than I ever did."
She raised an eyebrow and looked at me, "Well it certainly looks like you do."
I thanked her again and we left. We got into the car and we both groaned at the prospect of the long drive back to Cardiff. Mum and Dad were there when we got back. I received a few comments along the lines of them being glad to see me dressed more modestly. When they asked us where we had been, I evaded a direct answer and told them we had been to see an old friend.
----------*----------
I was up early the next morning and didn't even have time for a run. Claire had to leave early to get back to Bristol for work. I had decided to hitch a lift with her and then get the bus back down to London. I had initially planned to stay until the end of the weekend. But I was beginning to itch to get back to the city and get on with things. I had in a strange way enjoyed the time I had spent at home and I knew it had been worthwhile, although extremely difficult. However it was time to move on. There was a band to find and songs to write. Dad was heading back into work again today and Mum was up to ensure we all had a hearty breakfast before going our separate ways. I had all my things packed and wore my black velvet top and denim skirt with my long black leather boots.
As we were about to leave I said my goodbyes. I gave Mum a hug and was surprised by the strength of the return hug she gave me. She looked at me closely, "Now you take care of yourself. Be sensible and don't do anything stupid."
My father harrumphed, "You mean don't do anything ELSE stupid."
I forced a smile, "Bye Dad." I didn't know whether to hug him or not. We both stood there awkwardly and from the look on his face, he didn't look overly receptive to or desiring of prolonged displays of affection.
"Keep in touch," Mum said.
"I will," I promised.
"Love you both," she called after us.
"Love you too," Claire and I chorused.
We got in the car and Claire chuckled. "What is it?" I asked.
She shook her head, "Just thinking, if I ever lose my job, at least I know what my next job could be."
"OK go on, tell me."
She grinned and winked, "Chauffeuring Cara Malone. I've certainly had enough experience of it."
I pouted and gave her a playful slap. The roads were fairly empty this early in the morning but as we approached Bristol, the morning traffic was beginning to build. Claire pulled up outside the bus station where I had arrived on my way to her house only ten days previously. It seemed like almost a lifetime ago. She helped me lift my suitcase from the boot of the car and we stood there looking at each other.
She grinned, "Come here you." We hugged fiercely.
"Thanks Claire," I murmured, "Thanks for everything. You're the best."
She laughed, "I don't know about that." She became serious, "You know Mum was right. You need to be careful. You'll not always have your big sister there to look out for you."
I nodded, "I know. I'll give you a ring in the next few days."
We said our goodbyes and I went in and bought my ticket. As the bus pulled out for the trip to London, I began to muse over the happenings of the last week or so. It had been emotionally draining. I examined myself, metaphorically speaking, to see whether I was less or more certain of what I was doing in the light of all that had taken place. I guess it was six of one and half a dozen of another. I was certain that what I was doing was right. I was sure that it was what I wanted. What I think I had realised though was that although I could look, walk and talk like a woman, I had a lot to learn about surviving as a woman in the world outside. In the first few weeks, I nearly always had Jools and Beth there to support and help me. The last week or so, I had had Claire. Could I cope without such support? I didn't know and the thought was a disconcerting one. I would have to find out.
----------*----------
CHAPTER 14
It was mid afternoon by the time the taxi left me off outside Jools' apartment. I wearily lugged my suitcase inside and up the stairs. I didn't expect anyone to be there. Jools had said she wasn't planning on coming back up from Devon until the weekend. I set my suitcase down at the top of the stairs and nearly jumped out of my skin.
"Cara!!" Jools squealed and came bounding across the room towards me and nearly bowled me over as she grabbed me and bear hugged me.
"Ummph!" I murmured. She eased up a bit, "Heya Jools, you nearly scared me to death there. I thought you weren't coming up until the weekend?"
She stepped back, pushed the hair out of her eyes and shrugged, "I was getting bored and wanted to get back up here. Lots of things to sort out and plans to make and all you know. And sure you said you weren't coming back up 'til the start of next week."
I grinned, "I guess I felt pretty much the same as you. Plus I had had enough of being at home. It was getting kind of restrictive."
"You'll have to tell me all about it," she insisted. And we made some coffee and sat down on the sofa. I told her all about the past ten days or so. She wouldn't let me leave anything out. Although I did leave out my shameful behaviour with Phil. We chatted for a few hours and she told me about her Christmas at home. Her parents had arrived in for a surprise visit. Which apparently was good, but then got bad as the trials of living with ones parents began to wear on both Jools and Beth. I could sympathise. We made ourselves a bite of tea. It was a freezer to microwave to plate job, but we were happy enough. After tea, it was down to business.
"Right Cara, I've been thinking about so many things."
"No kidding," I teased.
She grinned and shushed me, "The first major problem is your ID. I have racked my brains and done some research on this. You can change your name by a thing called a deed poll, but the problem is that to change your ID documents, you have to show evidence of your changed name. This could be a link to the past that could be exploited."
As she told me all this, I couldn't help but sit there with a smug grin on my face. Eventually she could stand it no more, "Cara! This is important you know."
I raised a hand and without saying a word, went over to my suitcase which was still standing just inside the door. I opened it and took out a brown envelope. I also brought my hand bag over and took out my driver's licence and National Insurance number card. I handed these and the envelope to Jools.
"What's this?" she said suspiciously.
"Look at them."
She did so. She marvelled at the driver's licence, "Nicola Evans? Where did you get this?"
"Look in the envelope too."
She pulled out the passport and my birth certificate. "My goodness, how on earth did you do this?"
I grinned, "Impressive isn't it? I can't tell you the details, but let's say that having a father in the legal business came in handy."
She was dying to know all the details, but I refused to tell her. She eventually got the message. "Well, will there be any record of this?" she asked.
I shook my head. "It's as if Nick Evans never existed," as I said this, I felt a little pang somewhere deep inside. Nick Evans hadn't been a bad guy and I would miss parts of him. I shook my head to clear such silly nostalgia and brought my mind back to the present.
"What's wrong?" Jools asked softly having noticed some reticence in my expression. I shrugged and she went on, "Difficulties adjusting?"
I nodded, "Something like that I guess."
She looked at the documents again, "Wow, this is totally amazing. Is that everything sewn up then in this regard?"
I went on to tell her about my visit to Mrs. Forbes and told her how things had gone. She was a little unsure at first, but when I assured her that we could trust Mrs. Forbes she was happier. She agreed that it made sense, but like me hoped that we were being extra paranoid.
She waved my driving licence in the air, "This means you can drive again."
"Not yet," I said shaking my head.
"Why not?"
I grinned, "I have to go buy a car first."
"Uh huh? Got something in mind?"
I grinned. I did.
----------*----------
"Are you serious?" Jools whispered to me.
"Who wouldn't be?" I murmured as I ran my hand over the sleek contours of the car, "I've always wanted one of these."
She giggled, "There's still some male left in you obviously."
I winked, "Believe it honey."
Just then the salesman came over to us. He was dressed in the stereotypical slick business suit and the manner to match it. "Afternoon ladies, now I'm all yours, how can I be of assistance? I'm Dave Kingston."
I smiled, "Hi Dave, I'm Cara and I'm thinking of buying a car."
He smiled at me and I spotted his eyes doing the usual up and down. To be fair, I hadn't exactly dressed the most modestly today and that was quite deliberate. I was wearing a smart black jacket and skirt suit. The skirt was as you might expect, not the longest. With my black stockings and high heels, I knew I was creating the desired effect.
"Well Cara, you've come to the right place. Are you interested in the MGF?" he gestured to the convertible beside us.
I blinked a few times and smiled, "Who wouldn't be?"
He laughed, "I can just picture you driving it. Do you want to test drive it?"
I nodded, "Would that be OK?"
"Oh most definitely," he turned to Jools, I'm afraid there isn't much of a back seat, and I have to go on any test drives so…"
Jools got the message. She shrugged, "Oh I'll just wait here."
We drove out of the lot and I turned right. I had always fancied having an MGF convertible. Sleek and sporty, fast and fun. It was a sexy car. The engine purred and responded fantastically as I depressed the accelerator. I was aware of Dave glancing over at my legs. My skirt had ridden up a little as I had changed gears. Let him look. I was unashamedly doing the thing that all females had done for many years: using their sexuality to help them get what they want.
We got out back at the showroom. "Well what did you think?" asked Dave.
I nodded and shrugged, "I like it." I sighed wistfully, "I really do and I've always wanted one, but to be honest, I don't think I can afford it at £15,499. But thanks for letting me test drive it. Maybe one day."
I half-turned away but he called me back. I smothered my grin. "Yes?"
He smiled affably and spread his hands, "Look, let me see what I can do for you. A pretty lady like you deserves such a car."
I looked down and feigned embarrassment, "You're flattering me Dave."
He laughed, "Oh not at all. Let me go and check with the boss."
I smiled sweetly, "Thanks."
He went into an office. Jools hissed at me, "You're not even giving him a chance. He'll be offering to buy it for you next." I grinned.
He came back and smiled, "Look, the best I could do for you would be to give it to you for £15,000. Best I can do."
I nodded and smiled, "Great, I'll take it."
He looked slightly taken aback at my swift response, but I had known I was going to take it when I walked in. "Uhh, ok. Do you need a finance loan?"
I shook my head, "I'll bring a cheque for the full amount when it's ready."
Now he looked even more perplexed. "Oh alright, well great then."
We left. My new car would be ready in about 2 weeks. I had ordered a metallic silver colour. "Are you sure you've spent enough on your car?" Jools asked.
I grinned, "We've just landed a 100k advance and you think I can't afford it? Don't worry Jools, I'm not going to go out and become a spoilt rock star bitch. Well not immediately. But I always wanted a really nice car. I need a car right now, so why not buy what I want?"
She grinned, "I guess. We're going to need to talk about finance and money I see."
I laughed, "Yeah, but not today. Come on and let me buy you some dinner, I'm starved."
----------*----------
We sat over coffee the next morning and began to discuss the band. "Have you any thoughts in mind?" Jools asked.
I nodded, "Well one thought anyway."
"Who?"
"Jon Peters."
Jools nodded slowly, "Of course. Yes. But isn't he in a band at the moment? I think I even heard they were doing quite well."
I nodded, "Yes, but the last time I was talking to him, well a month or two ago, I got the impression he wasn't exactly happy. A few interpersonal difficulties within the band."
Jools raised an eyebrow, "Really?" She loved music gossip.
I nodded, "Yes. I think 'smelly drunken slobs' was how Jon described them."
Jon Peters. Possibly the best undiscovered lead guitarist talent in the country. OK, I was probably biased. We'd first met at high school, but his family moved to Bangor in North Wales when we were fifteen years old. We'd jammed a bit back in school, but had lost touch after he moved. We bumped into each other at a gig in a South London club three years ago. Like me, he'd moved to London after leaving school and was trying to make it. He'd been through series of bands that had got nowhere. Our musical tastes were very similar and we had tried to get a band going together. We'd done a few gigs together, him on guitar, me on piano and vocals. The music had been good, but the spark was missing. We'd given up and both moved on to other things after about six months of going nowhere. Every so often, he'd come over to my place or vice versa, we'd have a jamming session, chat, swap stories of repeated failures and the like. I hadn't seen him for a few months. He'd been touring somewhere in the North of England with this new band. They seemed to be getting a name for themselves, but he didn't seem to be enjoying it.
Jools interrupted my reverie, "So you think he would be interested?"
I shrugged, "Hope so."
She regarded me thoughtfully, "Are you planning on telling him?"
"Hmm?" I asked.
"You know what I mean."
I sighed. I nodded slowly, "I think so. Well not initially. If he wasn't interested, there would be no point telling him, but I guess if he agreed I'd have to tell him."
"How would he react?"
I shook my head, "I have no idea."
"You're sure about this?"
"Jools, you've heard him. He's the best around."
She nodded, "Granted. But you two tried it before and nothing happened."
"Jools I tried lots of things before and nothing happened. Things seem to be happening now; I think it could be different. Jon is a genius, he can make a song come alive. I think he is what we need to add an extra dimension to the music."
"OK, so how do you want to do this?"
I thought. "Well you'll have to ring him. He'll remember you. Tell him you have an opening, see if he is interested."
"What if he says no? What if he says he's in a band right now?"
I grinned, "Jools, you're extremely persuasive. As I sit here like this with you now I am a living testament to that fact. Tell him to come, meet me, hear the music, jam for an afternoon. No strings attached. No commitment."
She nodded, "OK. When?"
"As soon as possible, we need to get moving on this."
----------*----------
Jools had managed to track Jon down sometime the next afternoon. He was initially reluctant. He said he was sort of in a band at the moment. Jools seized the opportunity hinted at by his vagueness and persuaded him to come over the following afternoon. He wasn't overly thrilled when he heard it was a female artist he was coming to play with. I knew Jon had always fancied himself as the lead guitarist in a high octane male rock band. But I hoped he would see past that and realise the opportunity here.
Monday came and we were going to set up and play in the back room behind Jools' office below the apartment. I couldn't believe how nervous I felt as the time drew closer. I wasn't keen on having any lunch and I think Jools sensed my apprehension. "Hey relax, after what you've come through up to now, this shouldn't be a problem."
She was right. But try telling that to my stomach. I grinned, "I know. I'll just go and make myself presentable." I put on a beige blouse and my denim skirt and long boots. I checked my makeup and touched it up. I gave my hair one last good brush. I looked good. But I still felt nervous. We had decided that Jools would wait downstairs and meet Jon. She was going to tell him a bit about me. Leaving out the 'who I used to be' part. She was quite clear that she was not going to tell him that; that was up to me later. She would tell him about the recording contract and sing my praises a bit. Then she'd call me down and we'd meet, chat and I'd play some of the songs and take it from there.
I heard the doorbell and heard her welcome him in. I forced to myself to sit on the sofa and not pace up and down. After what felt like hours, but was actually only twenty minutes when I checked the clock, Jools called up the stairs to me. I took a deep breath and calmed myself before walking down and heading through to the back room.
Jon was standing there looking sort of awkward, leaning up against one of the walls. I walked in and smiled shyly, "Hi."
His eyes brightened when he saw me, "Uhh hi. Cara? I'm Jon Peters." He pushed himself off the wall and took a few steps over to where I was and held out his hand.
I shook his hand, "Thanks Jon for coming over. I've, uhh, heard a lot of good things about your playing." I was consciously trying to suppress my Welsh accent as the last thing I wanted right now was a conversation about where I came from.
He shrugged and looked a little uncomfortable. That was the funny thing with Jon: like all lead guitarists he had the ego to match and wanted to be the absolute best. But when you complimented him he came over all sort of shy. "I've heard a lot about you too…well in the last few minutes. I hadn't heard of you before Julie phoned though to be honest," he said apologetically.
I shrugged, "I wouldn't have expected you to."
There was an awkward pause and Jools cleared her throat, "Look Cara why don't you play Jon some of your material and see what he thinks."
He shifted awkwardly and began hesitantly, "Look I don't know if I'm wasting your time here. I'm like in a band at the moment and I'm not really looking for anything else right now."
Jools smiled her diplomatic smile, "We're not doing anything else this afternoon. At least listen, maybe play along and give us some constructive feedback."
He smiled and shrugged, "OK." He resumed his leaning against the wall posture.
I went over to the keyboard and made sure the mike was at the right height. I took a moment to compose myself and then launched into 'Nine years old again'. I poured all my nervous energy into my performance: playing and vocals. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I was worried that he was going to recognise me and ask me what the hell I was doing. I moved on into 'Not dancing, but flying' and closed my eyes as I put as much feeling into it as possible. By now, I was loosening up a little and looked over at Jon. He smiled. He didn't look bored, in fact he looked quite interested. I grabbed my guitar and raised the mic stand. I got the sequencer ready. I had some backing tracks, drums, bass and keyboards, to give the remaining songs a stronger foundation.
I started the sequencer and led into 'Living life in colour'. This was more Jon's style, a good rocky number. I made myself focus my gaze on him and directed the performance at him. I noticed his foot tapping as the upbeat chorus kicked in. His eyes flicked between my face and my left hand. He was reading the chords.
I moved straight into the heavier rockier feel of 'No half measures' and I really belted it out. He was now smiling openly and nodding. Again he was following my chord changes and I could see him half closing his eyes as if playing out a riff in his head. I wasn't far off the mark. When the song finished he bent down, opened his guitar case and lifted out his pride and joy. A vintage 1972 Gibson Les Paul guitar. No-one but no-one was allowed to touch, let alone play his guitar. He was obsessional about it.
"Nice guitar," I remarked.
He grinned and looked for all the world like a proud father who has just watched his son run the egg and spoon race at the school sports day. "Uhh thanks. Listen, can you play that last song again and mind if I join in. Nice feel to it."
I nodded, "Sure. It's in G." I knew rightly he was well aware of the key.
He grinned, "I know. Don't worry, I'll pick it up as we go along." He plugged his guitar into the amp and checked the sound. He fiddled with the treble and bass until he was happy with the sound.
I counted us in and restarted the sequencer. I began the verse and heard Jon play some low distorted chords. As the chorus began, he added little solo riffs between each line. I grinned over at him and he gave me a half-smile. By the second chorus he built up the riffs into more frenetic runs. Instead of singing the bridge, I shouted, "Guitar solo." And that was all he needed, he bent his right knee and his hands took off. Eyes closed in that typical 'other worldly' look of soloing guitarists he let his hands have free run of the guitar. It was amazing. We finished the song on the last chorus with him interspersing power chords with little solo runs. Playing live was always exhilarating, but there was something about playing live with someone else. In sharing the moment, the experience was doubled, not halved.
I grinned over at him, "You're not bad."
He laughed, "You're not bad either."
I smiled deprecatingly, "Oh well, I get by."
He nodded thoughtfully, "Good song. I like it."
"Thanks."
"Got any more?"
I smirked, "Well yes, but it's a little different."
He nodded, "Want to give it a try and I'll jam along?"
I shrugged, "Sure. I'll get the sequencer running, I'll not bother with the guitar myself in this one." Once the sequencer was ready, I took the mike in my hand, murmured, "Key of E," to him and started into 'I just wanna be me'.
"Feelin' the weight of others' expectations,
Pushing me down, pressing around me,
Building into disappointments, anger and frustrations,
Why oh why can't they understand and see."
He listened and twiddled a little as he got the hang of the song. I had written it with a swing big-band feel but as he listened and started to play along, he played blues chords and runs on the blues scale. I hadn't thought about doing that at all. I would have thought it would have made the song sound disjointed, but it worked. It sounded great.
"I don't wanna be somebody elses' puppet,
Don't wanna have to say yes and always agree,
You're squeezing me, smothering me – why don't you just stop it
Cos I just wanna be me.
I'm dreamin' my own dreams, not fulfilling yours,
I'm throwing off the bonds, I'm gonna be free,
I'm releasing my true spirit, a spirit that endures
Cos I just wanna be me."
By the last chorus, I couldn't help myself, I was strutting and striding across the stage, well OK the back room floor. As we finished Jon hit a diminished 7th and let the sound fade slowly. I laughed, "That was awesome."
"It was," he agreed.
"Oh, you're modest too?" I teased.
He smiled at me, "I was talking about you."
I blushed, "Oh err thanks."
He nodded, "You've got a great voice and I really like your writing." He let the words hang there and he stood there looking as if he was pondering something.
I interrupted him gently, "Jon, I think you'd be a fantastic addition to what we're doing. We need someone like you and from what I've seen and heard, I'm not sure that there is anyone like you."
He looked at me and inclined his head. He nodded slowly, "What's the deal?"
Jools jumped in, "Well we would have to sort out percentages and so on if you were interested."
He grinned and shook his head, "I'm not talking about money. I'm more interested in where this is all going and what part you see me playing in it." He looked back to me.
I smiled, "I see us going to the top. Making great music, enjoying every moment, a good tight band, chart records, top selling album, world tour, fame and fortune."
He laughed, "Now who's the modest one?"
I shrugged, "Got to aim high. It's not worth going for less."
He set his guitar back into its case carefully and closed the lid. Standing up he nodded slowly again, "And what about musical creativity, song writing and all that?"
I think I knew what he was getting at. I began slowly, "Jon, I think in every good band, not everyone is a song writer. It can't work like that. But I think you need more than one person to spark good writing. Speaking honestly, I would see myself doing most of the writing, but I need the input of someone else, someone who knows good music and who is prepared to tell me when things suck. I'd be keen for that person to be able to bring new ideas and songs and we could work on them and see where we go."
He looked me in the eye, "You think that person is me?"
I nodded and met his gaze, "I do."
He clenched his teeth together a few times. I recognised the sign. Deep thought in process. He tutted a few times and then nodded. He looked up sharply, "OK."
I nodded my head slowly, "OK?"
He grinned, "I came here today thinking I would humour Julie, meet some girl who thought she needed a lead guitarist, and then get out of here and back to my band. But, you've intrigued me. I like the music, I see potential and I want to be a part of it."
"But what about your band?" I asked.
He blinked, "What, you're trying to talk me out of it now?" He shook his head, "Wasn't really going anywhere to be honest. The other guys are mostly jerks. So if you still want me, I'm in."
I smiled from ear to ear, "That's great Jonboy!"
His smile disappeared and I bit my lip. "What did you call me?" he asked. I knew I had made a mistake. 'Jonboy' had been his nickname back at high school and he wasn't overly fond of it. In recent years no-one called him it and he just about tolerated me, or Nick rather, doing it. It had just slipped out without me realising it. He was staring at me intently and looked quite puzzled.
"Err," I began hesitantly, "I don't know, it just came out."
He frowned and spoke slowly, "There's only one person who has called me that in years." He looked at Jools and I could see him working it out. He looked back at me and shook his head, "I've a very strange feeling about what is happening here. What I'm thinking can't be true, can it? The person who I'm thinking of certainly has connections to Julie…" He looked closely at me and then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "I don't believe it." He knelt down and closed the last few clasps on his guitar case and picked it up and started to head for the door.
"Jon wait!" I called.
He stopped and slowly turned around, "Are you going to tell me what is going on…Nick? Or is this all some big joke that I'm not getting?"
I looked down at the floor and then looked back up at him, "It's not a joke, I will tell you, but come in and sit down. It's a long story."
He looked at me as if I had two heads, "It is you? I can't believe this, I never saw it until there now. This is crazy." But he set the guitar case down and took a seat. I nodded to Jools and to the door and she got the hint and slipped out closing the door behind her.
"What's this all about Nick? What the hell are you doing like…that?"
"Like what Jon?" I said softly.
"Well like…a woman."
I paused and tried to think of how best to approach this. I couldn't think of anything very clever so I just started talking, "Jon, I'm not like a woman. I, well, I am a woman now."
He closed his eyes for a moment and then looked at me with confusion on his face, "What you mean you've gone and well…"
I sighed, "Jon, I'm not going into details of anatomy or anything. I've decided to live as a woman. I know it sounds hard to believe, but I know this is right for me. I don't expect you to understand really."
He nodded, "Got that right. Dude are you messed up or what?"
I gave a mirthless chuckle, "Jon, look at me, do I look messed up? Seriously, look at me and tell me what you see."
He looked uncomfortable and shifted in his seat, "Uhh, what?"
I looked him in the eye, "Just look at me and tell me what you see."
He lowered his gaze, "I see a woman."
"Is that all?"
He looked up at me again and screwed his nose up, "What do you want me to say? That I see a real looker? A babe? Alright, you look good. I have to admit when you came downstairs and I saw you for the first time, I was pretty well impressed. But now to find out that you're…" He shook his head. "Why are you doing this? Is it just about the music?"
"No Jon. Well yes part of it is the music. I mean you heard me sing there today, what did you think?"
This was easier territory. He shrugged, "I thought it was one of the best female voices I've heard."
I nodded. "It came as a big surprise to me too. But it's not just that. My life sucked. Took me a long time to realise it. I just didn't realise why or what was wrong. Until now."
"So what, you're saying that you like being a girl?"
I nodded, "Yes. Jon, this is me. This is who I am. I'm not going to get all highbrow and say that this is how I was always meant to be. I don't know about that, but I do know that this is who I am now."
"Well look, that's fine for you Nick…"
I interrupted, "Please stop calling me that."
He backtracked, "Sorry. Cara then if that's what you want. But if you want to do this, OK mate, go for it. But I think this is too weird for me."
"So a minute ago, you were all for signing up, but now you want out? Why? What's changed? The music? The potential?"
He shrugged, "It just doesn't feel right. It's weird."
With more intensity than I expected I leant forward, "I know it's weird. Believe me, it is weird for me too. But I'm dealing with it, can you not see past it? I mean, we've worked together in the past, we got on well didn't we? We worked well together, didn't we? Same musical leanings and ideas? So now, when you see the potential we could have working at this, why don't you want to give it a chance?"
He sighed and sat in silence for a few moments. Gently I spoke, "Jon, I never thought you would be prejudiced like this."
He shook his head, "I am not prejudiced. It's just…this is a lot." He paused, "And when exactly were you planning to tell me all this? You were going to, were you?"
I nodded and rubbed my eyes, "Jon believe me, I was going to tell you."
"When? After we recorded the album? Toured the world? Or just sometime when you got round to it?"
"Today. If you agreed, I was going to tell you. I wasn't going to let you walk out of here without knowing."
He looked at me and nodded, "Alright Ni…Cara, I believe you." We sat in silence for several minutes. He shook his head again, "Shit."
"What?" I asked.
He gave a wry grin, "I really can't believe this is happening."
I prompted slowly, "You want to be a part of this don't you?"
He looked at the floor and then looked up at me and nodded, "I do. But I don't know if I can deal with this. I'm going to have to think about it."
I nodded slowly, "That's fair enough, I can appreciate that."
He stood up slowly, "Look, let me sleep on it. I'll be in touch tomorrow."
I stood and folded my arms and felt very vulnerable all of a sudden, "OK."
He half-smiled and picked up his guitar and headed for the door.
"Jon?"
He turned, "Yeah?"
"You won't tell anyone about this? It's kind of a secret as you can imagine."
He half-snorted half-chuckled, "I'll bet." He paused, "No. Either way, I'll not say a word."
I smiled, "Thanks."
He took one last look at me and shook his head, "Unbelievable." He left and said a quick goodbye to Jools before exiting to the street.
Jools came back in, "Well?"
I sighed, "Not well."
She winced, "He didn't take it well?"
I shook my head, "You could say that."
"Is he in or out?"
I shrugged, "I don't know. He's going to think about it."
----------*----------
I felt a little depressed the next day. Things hadn't gone exactly as expected with Jon. I didn't know how long it would be before he got back to me. Thankfully I didn't have to wait too long. At lunchtime, the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hello err Cara?"
"Hi Jon," I suddenly felt very nervous for no explicable reason.
"I umm, well was thinking about…yesterday and all…"
"Yes?"
"Look, do you want to meet up for a coffee and we'll talk, face to face?"
I hesitated, "Well sure. Where?"
"How about the Starbucks near St. Paul's? Three o'clock?"
"Sure. I'll see if that suits Jools."
"No," he said quickly, "that is, I just want to talk to you, if that's OK."
"Err alright Jon. I'll see you at three."
"OK bye."
I set the phone down. He had given no hint as to what he was thinking. I replayed the brief conversation over in my mind and decided that he wanted to see me in person to let me down gently. I sighed and shrugged. I wrangled over what to wear and eventually decided to go as I was dressed: lilac body top and blue jeans. I pulled my hair back into a pony tail and checked my make up. I looked fine. I had a feeling of dread. Ever since I had thought of putting a band together, I couldn't envisage it without Jon. As far as I was concerned, there was nobody else who could even come close to him. I had sort of thought that with us having been friends, he would have accepted me a lot easier. But I guess it was just the opposite.
I left Jools' flat just after two to give me enough time to travel in on the Tube. Where Jools lived was a lot more convenient to the city centre than where I had been living. A simple ride in on the central line brought me to St. Paul's. It was a grey cold January afternoon and although I was a little early, I headed straight for the relative warmth of Starbucks. Jon was already there at a table in the corner. I gave him a little wave and went to the counter to get a latte. He stood up as I arrived at the table. I found this a little amusing and I think he realised this. He gave me a sheepish grin as we both sat down.
"Hi Jon.
"Hi."
He sat there looking at me and didn't say anything else. I raised an eyebrow, "Speechless?"
He half shrugged, "You could say that." He stopped again.
I took a sip of my latte and set the cup down. I smiled at him, "OK, what's on your mind?" I wasn't sure if I wanted to know, but I had to know.
He nodded, "Well. I just wanted to meet you someplace public. Well out I mean." He frowned, "I'm not explaining myself very well. I wanted to see how you…get on." He sighed and shook his head.
I thought I understood, "You wanted to see if I still looked like and could act like a woman even out in public?"
He nodded, "Yes. I reckon that's pretty much it. I know that sounds a little lame. But I was just curious."
I permitted myself a wry smile, "And? How am I doing?"
He shifted a little in his seat, "Well, not bad I guess."
I laughed, "Oh Jon, easy on. I'll not be able to fit my head out of the door with such praise."
He smiled, "Well you know what I mean. You look…well you look good and you seem very…natural."
I nodded, "Thanks. And you wanted me to come alone to prove that I could go out by myself without support?"
He nodded and looked a little embarrassed, "Yeah."
I leaned forward and softly said, "Jon, I've been out dancing, I've been singing in front of people, I've shopped 'til I dropped, I've been living like this for some time. If you think I can't manage it or think I'll go to pieces in public, let me put your mind at rest. I'm fine, this is who I am."
He pondered this and then looked at me thoughtfully, "You know that's what makes it so hard to accept I think. If you were finding it difficult, I think I could understand better."
I paused for a moment, "It's not that I don't find it difficult at times. I do. It's not that it's plain sailing because believe me it's not. But that's life isn't it? Because something is difficult doesn't mean it's not worth doing. It's usually the opposite." I then added, "Gaining others' acceptance is one of the hardest things."
He winced, "Ouch. I probably deserved that though." He sighed, "I just can't help it though. It's not that I don't 'accept' you; I just find it hard to take in. It's not every day that one of your friends changes sex."
I grinned, "I guess you're right. But to get down to business, have you thought about things?"
He nodded slowly, "Yes, I have."
I sighed, "Am I going to have to drag it out of you bit by bit?"
He wrinkled his brow, "If I knew what I had to tell you, it would be fine. But I'm not sure."
I prompted gently, "Tell me what you are thinking."
He thought for a moment and then began, "OK. Musically I want to do it. I see the possibilities and the real chance of making it and that excites me and is something that I want to be part of." He stopped.
"There's a 'but' coming isn't there?"
He nodded, "Yes. I'm just not sure if it would work out. To be honest, it might have been better if you had never told me the truth."
I grinned, "I didn't actually tell you first off, remember you twigged to it yourself. Which was why I would have told you anyway. It wouldn't have been fair not to."
"I know," he said, "but if I didn't know, it would be a lot easier. I just find it hard to think of you as…well as a woman, as Cara. I keep thinking you are Nick and it doesn't seem right."
"Do I really remind you of Nick that much?"
"Well yes and no. You don't look much like him. Well that's an understatement. But the way you talk, your humour, your playing – there's a lot of Nick there."
I nodded and smiled, "Well, there is a lot of Nick in me you know. Is that a bad thing?"
He shrugged, "I don't know. I just don't know if I can get past that and be able to work with you well enough to make this a goer."
We both sat in silence for a few moments. I began slowly, "Look, I hear what you are saying and I think you do want to be involved in this. Yes?"
He nodded and I went on, "Well how about you give it a try. I mean, there's not much else to lose is there? You weren't happy with what you were doing."
He screwed up his nose, "Yes, but…"
I interrupted, "Why not say we'll try it for a year? Make the album, release the singles, go on tour if that materialises. If it works out, great. If not, well then we cut our losses and put it down to experience."
He still didn't look convinced, "It may not be as simple as that."
I spread my hands on the table, "Well Jon, it's your decision. I can't make it for you."
He looked at me for a few moments and then nodded reluctantly, "OK. Let's try it."
"Great," I winked, "but I want you to tone down your enthusiasm, I think you're getting a bit too excited."
He laughed, "Yeah right. OK, we'll give a shot."
We went our separate ways and I had told him that I'd give him a call in a few days so we could start to look for other band members and begin to work on the songs. He was going to let the members of his band know he was leaving although he would honour the gigs they already had booked for the next month or so. As I returned home, I had mixed feelings. I was glad that Jon was in, but couldn't quite fathom his reticence.
----------*----------
"Cara, are you paying attention?" Jools asked pointedly.
"Umm, yes?" I said absent-mindedly. We were sitting at Jools' kitchen table and she was going through contract details. I had been day dreaming.
"No you weren't," she said indignantly.
I grinned, "OK, sorry. I guess my mind drifted off a bit."
Jools sighed, "It is important you know."
"I know, I'm sorry. What were you saying?"
Jools shrugged, "Well look basically, I've checked through the contract and got a solicitor to have a quick look at it and it all seems in order. I think we should sign and get it back to Sony."
I nodded, "Was the solicitor expensive?"
She looked at me, "This from the girl who blows fifteen grand on a car?"
I smiled, "OK, point taken. Right then, where do I sign?"
"Don't you want me to go over the details with you?"
I shrugged, "I wouldn't understand the half of it, and if you think it is alright, I'm happy. Isn't that what a good manager is for?"
Jools nodded, "Well yes."
I interrupted, "Well then, where do I sign?"
She sighed and pushed it over, "Just there. I'll sign above as your representative."
I signed it and Jools signed above mine. She said, "Now, that's not all contractual details sorted. We need to sort out a contract between me, you and the band."
"We do?"
She nodded, "Yes, your income will be paid to CMA and we need to formalise our arrangements."
CMA was Carstairs' Music Agency, the name Jools operated under. "Uhh ok," I added intelligently.
She smiled, "You don't want me running off with all your money do you?"
I laughed, "True, couldn't trust you as far as I could throw you. So what do we do about a contract?"
Jools winked, "I just happen to have prepared a draft version."
I grinned, "Why does that not surprise me?"
Jools smiled beatifically, "That's what you pay me for. So here, you have to read this one."
I groaned and took the document. It was three pages of text and then several extra sheets for signatures. I read through it. A lot of legal type language but I was able to follow it for the most part. It all seemed fairly straightforward to me. There were some blanks on the sheets for signing. I mentioned this, "Jools, there are blanks here where I think there should be some names and percentages."
She nodded, "Yes, well we need the other band members' names to fill in their parts and we need to discuss the percentages."
I nodded, "Well what do you think Jools?"
She wrinkled her nose, "Well it's really for you to decide."
I shrugged, "How much should you get?"
She looked uncomfortable, "Well the standard figure would be ten percent."
I nodded, "Are you happy enough with that?"
"Yes, of course I am."
I nodded, "Well then ten percent it is. What about the rest?"
"How many band members are we looking at?"
I thought aloud, "Me, Jon, a drummer, a bass guitarist and a keyboard player most likely."
"How do you want to split it?" she asked.
Now I felt a little uncomfortable, "I don't know. I suppose I should get more than an even share?"
"Hell yes!" she exclaimed, "You should get the majority of it, I mean you are the named artist. I would think you should take fifty percent and split the rest between the band, ten percent each."
I chewed my lip and thought about it, "I'll take forty percent, twenty percent for Jon and ten percent for the others whoever they turn out to be. Does that sound OK?"
She nodded, "That's fine if that's the way you want to do it. Why give Jon twenty though?"
I shrugged, "I see him as playing a more important role than just another band member."
She seemed happy with that and we signed our respective parts. We would have to get Jon and the future band members to sign their parts at a later date. Thankfully that seemed to be all the bureaucracy that was required at present. Jools headed out to drop the contract in to Sony in person. I was going to go with her but she told me that stars didn't drop in their own contracts and this was what I was paying her for. She thought we would have the advance within a few days. This was good as I had a car to pay for at the end of the next week. My poor maths was able to cope with working out forty percent of one hundred grand. After paying for the car I would still have twenty-five thousand left. It was hard for me to comprehend such an amount. It was strange to not have to think about where I was going to get money from or how I was going to make ends meet. Yet I had a strange nagging feeling that I should be doing something work wise in the meantime. I wasn't quite sure what I was thinking. I would have to try and sort my thoughts out.
To be continued…
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