Part 24 (1/2)

'See, I've always been afraid of marriage because of, you know, ball and chain, I want my freedom, all that. But when I was thinking about that stupid girl I suddenly saw it was the opposite: that if you got married to someone you know you love, and you sort yourself out, it frees you up for other things. I know you don't know how you feel about me, but I do know how I feel about you. I know I want to stay with you and I keep pretending otherwise, to myself and you, and we just limp on and on. It's like we sign a new contract every few weeks or so, and I don't want that anymore. And I know that if we got married I'd take it seriously, and I wouldn't want to mess about.'

'And you can make a decision about it just like that, can you? In cold blood, bang bang, if I do that, then this will happen? I'm not sure that it works like that.'

'But it does, does, you see. Just because it's a relations.h.i.+p, and it's based on soppy stuff, it doesn't mean you can't make intellectual decisions about it. Sometimes you just have to, otherwise you'll never get anywhere. That's where I've been going wrong. I've been letting the weather and my stomach muscles and a great chord change in a Pretenders single make up my mind for me, and I want to do it for myself.' you see. Just because it's a relations.h.i.+p, and it's based on soppy stuff, it doesn't mean you can't make intellectual decisions about it. Sometimes you just have to, otherwise you'll never get anywhere. That's where I've been going wrong. I've been letting the weather and my stomach muscles and a great chord change in a Pretenders single make up my mind for me, and I want to do it for myself.'

'Maybe.'

'What d'you mean, maybe?'

'I mean, maybe you're right. But that doesn't help me, does it? You're always like this. You work something out and everyone else has to fall into line. Were you really expecting me to say yes?'

'Dunno. Didn't think about it, really. It was the asking that was the important thing.'

'Well, you've asked.' But she says it sweetly, as if she knows that what I've asked is a nice thing, that it has some sort of meaning, even though she's not interested. 'Thank you.'

Thirty-five

Before the band comes on, everything's brilliant. It used to take a bit of time to warm people up, but tonight they're up for it straightaway. This is partly because most of the crowd here tonight are a few years older than they were a few years ago, if you see what I mean - in other words, this is exactly the same lot, not their 1994 equivalents - and they don't want to wait until half-twelve or one before they get going: they're too tired for that now, and anyway, some of them have to go home to relieve baby-sitters. But mostly it's because there's a real party atmosphere, a genuine make-hay-while-the-sun-s.h.i.+nes air of celebration, as though this were a wedding reception or a birthday party, rather than a club that will be here next week and maybe even the week after that.

But I have to say that I'm f.u.c.king good, that I haven't lost any of the old magic. One sequence - the O'Jays ('Back Stabbers'), Harold Melvin and the Bluenotes ('Satisfaction Guaranteed'), Madonna ('Holiday'), 'The Ghetto' (which gets a cheer, as if it's my song rather than Donny Hathaway's) and 'Nelson Mandela' by the Specials - has them begging for mercy. And then it's time for the band.

I've been told to introduce them; Barry has even written down what I'm supposed to say: 'Ladies and gentlemen, be afraid. Be very afraid. Here comes . . . SONIC DEATH MONKEY!' But b.o.l.l.o.c.ks to that, and in the end I just sort of mumble the name of the group into the microphone.

They're wearing suits and skinny ties, and when they plug in there's a terrible feedback whine which for a moment I fear is their opening number. But Sonic Death Monkey are no longer what they once were. They are no longer, in fact, Sonic Death Monkey.

'We're not called Sonic Death Monkey anymore,' Barry says when he gets to the mike. 'We might be on the verge of becoming the Futuristics, but we haven't decided yet. Tonight, though, we're Backbeat. One two three . . . WELL SHAKE IT UP BABY . . . ' And they launch into 'Twist and Shout,' note perfect, and everyone in the place goes mad.