quite know how to reply and Alex sneered at the confusion on her face, “Pain killers I mean. Christ, it’s only eleven in the morning, what kind of an arsehole rock and roll band do you think we are?”
Figuring that honesty was likely to get her more information than anything else, Saz replied, “I don’t know. I’m not that much into music and I don’t know a lot about you guys.”
“Yeah, well, that’s obvious.”
“You’ve got a headache?”
“Hangover. Brain fucking shafting bitch of a hangover, aching stomach and a mouth that tastes like … oh fuck it, I don’t know, not enough sanity for clever similes. Now where does the silly tart keep her drugs?”
He then rifled through the drawers of Peta’s desk until he found a box of Nurofen, swallowed the last four dry andleft the office, slamming the door behind him. Saz watched after him, delighted to have been of use.
Later that morning Saz asked Peta about Alex’s drinking habits and she was treated to a lecture on the drugs of choice of the whole band.
“No, it won’t be just a hangover on Alex. Too much bloody coke, that one. He wants to watch it, last time we were all home for Christmas my mother nearly caught him at it and there’d be hell to pay if she did.”
“They use a lot of drugs?”
“The band?” Peta shrugged her shoulders, “Depends what you call a lot. They’re hardly the Velvet Underground. The boys smoke dope. Every day, I guess. Well, not Steve, he hardly ever touches anything other than lager—his body is a temple, if you see what I mean.”
Saz did. “The others?”
“Alex and Greg and Siobhan like a line or two of coke. Several lines in Alex’s case. Addictive personalities run in my family …”
Saz could see that Peta was about to launch into a tale of alcoholic aunties and uncles and drew her back to the band, “Dan?”
“A little of whatever’s going, I suppose. When you’ve got the money and you need to keep working and half the time the work looks like partying, well it does the trick, doesn’t it? Dan’s more into your young person’s drugs though. Clubbing and all that. He likes E. I don’t touch any of that stuff myself, I can’t stand the music that goes with it and I prefer my chemical release in liquid form.”
“What about Siobhan?”
“She doesn’t smoke, but she’ll do the rest now and then.”
“She doesn’t like dope?”
“Bad for the voice, you know. Actually, it’s bad for the band really. The five of them, they’re ready for an argumentalmost any time these days, but with the drink and drugs—it just makes them even nastier to each other.”
“When they’re off their faces?”
Peta laughed, “Oh no, that’s the only time they seem to like each other anymore. They’re all the best of friends when they’re pissed. Even Alex. Mostly. It’s when they have to be sober and get on with the work while they’ve still got the hangovers from the night before that the shit really starts to fly.”
“Like Alex this morning?”
“Exactly. Mr Happy coming down. It can get very nasty. Alex picks on Siobhan. That’s normal enough, he’s always picking on Siobhan. But then maybe he goes just a little too far, Greg sticks up for her and Alex turns on Greg. Then Siobhan screams at Alex, Dan has a go at Alex, blah blah blah. Eventually even Steve gets pissed off and then they’re all at it. It’s why Kevin left in the end. He couldn’t stand it.”
Saz sat up at the mention of a new name, “Who’s Kevin?”
“Ex-tour manager. He was an old mate of Siobhan’s. He was with the band from the beginning—at least, from the beginning of doing gigs anyway. Started off as just a mate humping the gear, then as they did better and better he went from roadie to crew to tour manager.”
“But not any more?”
“They had a big bust-up last summer. Alex was screaming at Siobhan—”
“It sounds to me like he’s always having a go at Siobhan about something.”
“He is.
Figuring that honesty was likely to get her more information than anything else, Saz replied, “I don’t know. I’m not that much into music and I don’t know a lot about you guys.”
“Yeah, well, that’s obvious.”
“You’ve got a headache?”
“Hangover. Brain fucking shafting bitch of a hangover, aching stomach and a mouth that tastes like … oh fuck it, I don’t know, not enough sanity for clever similes. Now where does the silly tart keep her drugs?”
He then rifled through the drawers of Peta’s desk until he found a box of Nurofen, swallowed the last four dry andleft the office, slamming the door behind him. Saz watched after him, delighted to have been of use.
Later that morning Saz asked Peta about Alex’s drinking habits and she was treated to a lecture on the drugs of choice of the whole band.
“No, it won’t be just a hangover on Alex. Too much bloody coke, that one. He wants to watch it, last time we were all home for Christmas my mother nearly caught him at it and there’d be hell to pay if she did.”
“They use a lot of drugs?”
“The band?” Peta shrugged her shoulders, “Depends what you call a lot. They’re hardly the Velvet Underground. The boys smoke dope. Every day, I guess. Well, not Steve, he hardly ever touches anything other than lager—his body is a temple, if you see what I mean.”
Saz did. “The others?”
“Alex and Greg and Siobhan like a line or two of coke. Several lines in Alex’s case. Addictive personalities run in my family …”
Saz could see that Peta was about to launch into a tale of alcoholic aunties and uncles and drew her back to the band, “Dan?”
“A little of whatever’s going, I suppose. When you’ve got the money and you need to keep working and half the time the work looks like partying, well it does the trick, doesn’t it? Dan’s more into your young person’s drugs though. Clubbing and all that. He likes E. I don’t touch any of that stuff myself, I can’t stand the music that goes with it and I prefer my chemical release in liquid form.”
“What about Siobhan?”
“She doesn’t smoke, but she’ll do the rest now and then.”
“She doesn’t like dope?”
“Bad for the voice, you know. Actually, it’s bad for the band really. The five of them, they’re ready for an argumentalmost any time these days, but with the drink and drugs—it just makes them even nastier to each other.”
“When they’re off their faces?”
Peta laughed, “Oh no, that’s the only time they seem to like each other anymore. They’re all the best of friends when they’re pissed. Even Alex. Mostly. It’s when they have to be sober and get on with the work while they’ve still got the hangovers from the night before that the shit really starts to fly.”
“Like Alex this morning?”
“Exactly. Mr Happy coming down. It can get very nasty. Alex picks on Siobhan. That’s normal enough, he’s always picking on Siobhan. But then maybe he goes just a little too far, Greg sticks up for her and Alex turns on Greg. Then Siobhan screams at Alex, Dan has a go at Alex, blah blah blah. Eventually even Steve gets pissed off and then they’re all at it. It’s why Kevin left in the end. He couldn’t stand it.”
Saz sat up at the mention of a new name, “Who’s Kevin?”
“Ex-tour manager. He was an old mate of Siobhan’s. He was with the band from the beginning—at least, from the beginning of doing gigs anyway. Started off as just a mate humping the gear, then as they did better and better he went from roadie to crew to tour manager.”
“But not any more?”
“They had a big bust-up last summer. Alex was screaming at Siobhan—”
“It sounds to me like he’s always having a go at Siobhan about something.”
“He is.
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