Chapter One

It’s New Years’ Eve with the new century just hours away, and I’m sitting on the sofa in my lounge, watching the lead-up entertainment on the TV. It was mainly videos of past hits, and I nearly dropped my drink when I saw a video start that I knew well. It was a band from well over twenty years ago and there I was, behind the girls, playing my guitar.

Many of our video hits were shown regularly on music shows, but this was the first time they had shown this old one, made in the early seventies, now taken from the vaults, and dusted off. The band, back then, was the two girls out front, with me and two other guys in the backing group. The band, at that time, was called the Candicanes. It was, thankfully, the only video we had made in that period.

It was, I must say, a bit of a shock and it made me think about those days. That, alone, was amazing, as I never bothered to think past the last twenty years, when we got famous, sold lots of records, and made some rather fundamental changes. These happened so slowly that most of us were not bothered about them until it was far too late to go back. Not that I would want to, now.

Two or three years before that video was made, I was a teenage dropout, living with my folks, and making a bit of cash by playing my guitar in the local pub on weekends. You know the sort of thing, all folkish, Dylan and Donovan. That was in the late sixties and there was a lot of material that I could mine. I was, I must say, a fast learner of songs, even though I didn’t read music then. My act was totally acoustic, unless the venue had microphones and a PA system. I also made cash busking at the local shopping center. It was lucky that a couple of council members drank at the pub where I played and had vouched for me when I applied for permission to busk.

I was christened Harold Arthur Hunt and went by the stage name of Hitman Harry. Music back then was simple enough to be played, successfully, by a one-man band. Of course, there were more complicated hits around, the Beatles had played with backwards tapes and other strange sounds. I think, looking back now, that the whole entertainment industry was destroyed by electro-pop and finally buried by rap.

So, I was approaching twenty, made enough money to keep myself clothed and pay my folks rent. I had a room big enough for my simple needs. A bed, a wardrobe, a table that carried my reel-to-reel recorder and the record player. You still bought records then, vinyl discs that damaged easily if you took them to parties. The big advantage of getting one with a song you wanted to copy was that there was always another song on the flip side which may be easy enough to use as a filler in your act.

The first change happened by accident. The guy that usually played before I went on was hit by a bus. The pub owner brought in two girls to fill the spot. That’s when I met Candice and Nicola for the first time. When I arrived that night, they were up on the stage and sounded good. Candice was the singer and Nicola was playing an acoustic guitar, one that was a bit better than the old cheapie I used.

As I listened, I realised that they were mining a similar vein to me, and I quickly adjusted my play-list that evening, so we didn’t clash. When they came off, they stayed in the room to relax with a couple of guys. I did my set, extending it a bit because the small group that was supposed to follow me hadn’t shown up. Finally, they arrived, and I took my guitar and went to get a drink.

Nicola came over to me and asked me if I could join them at their table. By then, the guys had left, so I sat with them, and we talked. I told them that they were good, and they said that I was, as well. The fact that we played similar sets was a platform which allowed us to talk easily. That, for me, was a definite plus, talking with a couple of good-looking girls was not something I did often. Before we left, the manager came over to us and asked the girls if they would open the entertainment each week, for a while, until the usual guy got out of hospital.

That led me to ask them if they could give me their playlist, so that I could make sure we didn’t double up on songs. Nicola asked if I could give them mine and we promised to make the exchange next week. The next few days were strange. I was on edge, thinking about the two girls a lot. Much of it was wondering how much of my set I was going to have to cut.

I made sure that I arrived at the pub before the girls went on, and we swapped the paperwork. It all went well, and we did our two sets without any doubling up. The late band even arrived on time. We sat and talked while they played, and I even got a dance with each of the girls. This carried on for several weeks and then the opening act was back, well enough to perform. I thought that he didn’t sound as good as he used to, but I expected that he would improve in the future.

That first night he was back, I was surprised to see the girls come in, just before I went on stage. They found a table and then I was on stage and getting into a set that they had never heard before, being a lot of the songs that were on their own list. I could see them grinning as I moved through the playlist and, when I had finished and stepped off the stage, they came over to me and both gave me a hug.

“We’re about to leave,” Candice smiled, “Why don’t you join us back at my place and we can talk about our plans for the future?”

Nicola had a car and we put my guitar in the boot and then I was shown the back seat. We didn’t say much as Nicola took us into a nicer part of town, pulling up in the driveway of a semi. I followed them in as Candice opened the door and led us into the house, going through to the back and into the kitchen. It was all open-plan and modern, like something out of a magazine. She put the kettle on, and we sat at the table. When the kettle boiled, a lady came in.

“Oh! It’s you. Make me a cup, dear. Now who’s this young fellow?”

“This, mummy dear, is Hitman Harry. I’ve told you about him over the past few weeks. Tonight, he didn’t play a single song that we’ve heard him play before and they were all songs that Nikki and I play. He had held them back so that he didn’t double up on our act for the whole time we played at that pub. That makes him a real gentleman, in our eyes. On top of that, he’s a good dancer.”

“And?”

“Well, Nikki and I have been thinking of moving on from the duo and have asked him back here so we can talk him into being in a trio with us. That way I can start playing the keyboard if we go electric.”

“Your father and I have spoken about this, and he is willing to put up a couple of guitars and those amplifier things if you get to the point of going on a stage. We both know that you’ll never settle for an office job while you have the urge to sing.”

Candice enveloped her mother in a hug, then it was Nicola’s turn. Finally, they three of them turned to me and I stood.

“I don’t know how I got pulled into this, but I’m willing to take some time to see how it works. The only things that take up my day are busking and checking out the new songs. I do have to play the pub but I’m sure that I can get out of that if there’s something better for me to do. If we’re electric, we will have to play dance halls to make it viable, and that’s a tough nut to crack.”

That ended with me being enveloped in a team of women. Over the next hour, I learned that Candice was a little spoilt by her parents and that her father worked in a music store. I was told that he would supply a couple of trade-in instruments and amps until we went professional. That one hit me like a ton of bricks – me – professional!

Nicola had a day job which she told us she would be happy to leave when the time was right. She drove me home, letting me out at my place and waiting until I took my guitar before driving off. My father was still up, watching a test match replay, as I went in.

“What’s up, Harry, you look like you’ve been through the wars. Did you ask one of those girls out, at last?”

“No Dad, they’ve asked me if I’d join with them to form a trio, playing different stuff. Electric stuff.”

“Well, make sure you don’t play it here, you know that the old biddy next door will report you to the police if you get too loud.”

“That won’t be a problem, Dad. I need to talk to Steve to find out where he practices.”

That night I found it hard to sleep. I lay and thought about my relationship with the girls. We danced, we talked, we were totally at peace with each other. I hadn’t thought too much about going further with either of them, although both would be good catches. I wondered why but had still not resolved that dilemma before I dozed off.

The next day, I contacted Steve. He and I had gone to school together and he was a drummer. Thinking about the school days, I remembered that we had a friend, Quentin, who was in a class behind us. The three of us would talk about bands and songs. We got a collective nickname – the beanstalks. All three of us were skinny and it doesn’t take much to get a name like that. We weren’t bullied, just joked about. Steve must have somewhere out of earshot if he was still playing.

I met up with him in a fast-food place in the town. It was timed to fit in with his break. After a few pleasantries, I got to the point.

“Steve, old buddy, are you still playing those drums, and, if so, have you got somewhere you practice?”

“Yes – and yes. Why? You’re not into group stuff, you thrive on that folk stuff.”

“I’ve met a couple of girls who have been playing the same pub I do. They’ve asked me if I would help them work out a new set, electric, and we need somewhere big enough and far away from complaining biddies.”

“You shacked up with either, or both?”

“No, we get along fine but no thoughts along those lines, yet.”

“All right. I use a place which is comfortable and set up for bands to play in. Me and Quentin have been playing in a band at parties and some dance clubs. The problem is that the other guys are all off to Uni soon and that band is finished. What sort of music do these girls want to play?”

“I’m not sure, but one mentioned Bowie and Christie. I expect that they will want to do quirky country rock or something like that. Candice plays the organ, but I haven’t seen her do that yet.”

“Good Lord, you do live up to what some of the guys used to call you, back at school.”

“Oh! I was talked about?”

“When you weren’t around, I used to get asked if you sucked my dick. They called you a loser poof.”

“I never knew that. I always considered myself as cool and uninterested. I used to get on well with a lot of guys and even more girls.”

“Exactly! Anyway, I’ve got to get back to work. Come up to the counter and I’ll write you the address and the time I’m going to be there.”

I took the paper and went to see if I could catch up with Nikki at her office. When I got there, I asked the receptionist if she could pass the paper on to Nikki. She made a call and then smiled at me.

“Nikki said that if you come back in half an hour, she will take her lunch early and you can speak to her then.”

I window shopped until I made sure I was outside the office at the right time. Nikki came out and she took my breath away. Previously, I had only seen her in performance gear, jeans, and boots with a peasant blouse. Today she was in office smart, silk blouse with a tight skirt and stockings. I told her how magnificent she looked.

I showed her the paper with the address on it.

“Hey, that’s not too far away. Come on, we’ll get my car and go and have a look. Then we can grab a bite.”

So, we walked to the carpark and got into her car. It didn’t take long to find the place. I had expected a lockup in a row of lockups, but this was a lot better. It was brick-built and quite large. It was locked but we could hear a very bad band going at it hammer and tongs inside. They were attempting one of the better Motown songs and making an absolute mess of it. We decided not to bother knocking and went back to park the car before going to a café to have lunch.

I was almost in a daze, sitting in a café with a beautiful girl, having lunch and all we talked about was the music. She told me that she would pick me up at my place and we would meet Candi at the venue. Candi, she said, would have her fathers’ van with our new kit in it. We agreed that the first few sessions would be the hardest, all of us unsure of how it would work out.

I had a couple of days busking and did quite well. And then it was the evening of the first try-out. I had my acoustic, just in case, and Nikki popped the boot so I could put it in. When we arrived at the place, the door was open and Steve stood outside, cigarette in hand. He was very gentlemanly when he welcomed us, well, he fawned over Nikki. Inside, we found that it was set up like a recording studio, but with home-made tiles on the walls and ceiling, made from old egg trays. Steve explained that there were small storerooms to keep our kit in, if we wanted to, and that he would put us in touch with the owner, should we want to pay a weekly fee to get our own key.

He showed us the one that he kept his drums in. The band he had played in had used it, but it only contained his drums now, plus a 50-watt amp and various cables.

“That’s Quentin’s’ amp, he played rhythm. He’s up in Scotland, now, something about his grandfather and fishing. He’ll be back in a week, or so. I’ve got to go, now. Just set the latch on your way out when you’ve finished. You can let me know if you want to use the place again.”

As we went outside with him, Candice rolled to a stop with the music store van. She slid down from the cab, came over to us and hugged Nikki, and then me. I introduced Steve and she gave him a hug as well, thanking him for letting us use the place. As he walked to his car, he looked at me, winked and grinned. I think that he may find time to give me a call.

Candi opened the back of the van, and I carried three 20-watt amps into the hall. Then it was her organ, with its stand, and finally two guitar cases and a bundle of cables. We set them all up, found the power plugs, as well as three mic stands that anyone could use. Candi had three mics that went on to them and were plugged in to the second channel of each amp. I opened the guitar case that I was given, finding a scratched and sorry-looking Fender Telecaster. Nikki opened hers and pulled out a similarly aged Fender bass.

We tried out our instruments, Nikki and I tuning the guitars to a middle C that Candi played. I had no idea what we would be doing now, but Candi had thought it all through. She had a list of the songs we both played in our acts and then made the decision for us. As we all sang, we were given the option of singing solo, as a duet, or, if we could match our voices, as a trio.

It took us over a half an hour before we were happy with the first song we tried. All three of us were doing something different to our usual playing. Candi wasn’t bad, and got the hang of standing, playing, and singing at the same time. Nikki played a mean bass, and I was impressed. For me, playing the electric opened a world of possibility and every time we played the song, I was doing something different. Most of the time I played a rhythm backing but then added lead bits as needed. I thought that we sounded good and told the girls so when we stopped for a break.

We were there for three hours before Nikki said that she needed to get her sleep. We had a short list of seven songs, and I was amazed we had that many. At this rate, another dozen sessions and we would be able to hold our own in front of the public. We loaded up the van, including my acoustic from Nikkis’ car, and she headed home for the beauty sleep she didn’t need.

I got in the cab with Candice, and she took me home. I had to give her directions as she hadn’t been there. She was bubbling over with excitement as she drove, I think she had been thinking of this time since she had first started singing. At my place, we got out and she opened the back door of the van so I could get my acoustic, still in its case. After she shut the door, she turned to me and thanked me for my input during the evening. Then she hugged me. I could only return the hug with one arm, the other carrying the guitar, and was totally unprepared when she kissed me. Then she let go, smiled, and went back to the cab, driving off as I stood in the road, a silly grin on my face.

As expected, Steve called me to see how we got on. I told him the next date we would like to use the place and that we had agreed to rent the storage and get our own key. He told me that we could use the space he already rented, if we split the fee, as it was big enough for our gear. I didn’t argue. He said that he would get the extra key from the owner and meet us outside on our next visit. I was sure that he wanted to meet the girls, again.

Three sessions later, we almost had a set worked out. Steve had hung around a few times to listen, and he was joined by Quentin. They were supportive and gave us a few pointers. We arrived at a point where Candice wanted to play songs that were bigger than we could do as a three-piece. That’s when we asked Steve and Quentin if they could fill in, to see how it went.

Steve set up his drums, Quentin powered up his amp and pulled his guitar out of its case. That, alone, freed me to play more lead. Three takes of the first song later, I knew that we had something more than the sum of us. Three sessions as a five-piece later, we all packed up and sat around to talk about things. Candice and I sat side-by-side, holding hands. She, and I had taken things a little further since that first kiss. Not all the way, but certainly a lot further than I’d ever been before. Steve and Quentin had been in a minor skirmish trying to get Nikki to go with one of them, but she had stayed her own girl.

That evening, we made a pact to be a band and take it seriously. We became the Candicanes, and Steve told us that he had some contacts from his previous band so we may be able to get a gig in a few weeks. That’s the moment that another change occurred. The girls told us that we needed to look smarter than we did when we played the pub. They would be in short dresses, and we were told to wear our Sunday best, if we could.

Two weeks later, we had a gig booked in a dance hall and we also had a session wearing our stage outfits. Candice looked stunning in a dress, with Nikki in a pantsuit of the same material. I was in my Sunday slacks and a good shirt, Steve had decent chinos, while Quentin had a grey suit. We looked smart and played like that for several months.

We were good and the dancers were happy with us, but we didn’t have that extra buzz that would make us stand out. Candi insisted that we needed to have a look that would make us totally different from the other bands. She said that her father had contacts with outfitters and we three guys submitted to being measured.

The next show, Candi and Nikki had shimmering dresses and looked stunning. Us guys were less overt, but nearly as unmissable. We had trousers in different colours, all in pastel shades, topped with open-fronted silky shirts. We all had boots with two-inch heels. I thought we looked like prize queers, but Steve approved of the overall look. He looked the best, what with his very hairy chest showing. Quentin wasn’t far behind in the hairy chest department, but I went and bought a brooch to hold my shirt together, complaining that the flapping material made it hard to play my guitar. Candi took the brooch away and replaced it with some strings of beads that disguised my hairless chest.

That show was a big change, the dancers were more appreciative, and it lifted our playing. Every time Candi looked back at us, she had a big smile on her face. I think we had reached the point of her dream where we would move up in the world. Every couple of shows, we had different outfits, similar in design but progressively more over the top. As the changes continued, we got more popular and played every weekend to bigger audiences. The outfits remained the same style, but each gig had additional facets. Candi and Nikki worked hard to get us guys to move forward with the looks that were becoming more prevalent. We all now wore eye liner and shadow on stage, and I had been coerced into getting my ears pierced.

Six months later, we made that video, playing a song that Candis’ father had organised from a songwriter he knew. That had been released as a single and had got into the top twenty for a few weeks. After the video was released, and played on TV shows, it came back, peaking at number nine.

By that time, Candice and I were no longer a couple. If I was being cynical, I would say that I had performed my part in her success and was now just a friend. Oddly, she and Nicola seemed to be more of a couple, while Steve and Quentin enjoyed their new-found popularity with a succession of willing ladies. For my part, I was just happy to be playing in a successful band and looking out to see the budding guitarists watching my fingering. Then we got a long-term booking, playing on a cruise ship.

Marianne Gregory © 2023