But Jimmy snapped out of it. It happened when he went from the general to the particular. It wasn’t Imelda Joey The Lips had got off with. It was Natalie. He didn’t fancy Natalie. It was cool.
— It’s a free country, lads, said Jimmy.
— God though, said Derek.
— It’s not on, said Deco.
He hit the wall, not too hard.
Billy looked from one face to the next for some sign of hope.
— It’s like doin’ it with your fuckin’ da, he said.
— Wha’? said Dean. — Nat’lie, like? — Oh, now I get yeh. — Yeah.
Outspan asked Dean a question.
— Tongues?
— O’ course.
— I’m goin’ to be sick.
— That’s fuckin’ cat, tha’ is, said Derek.
— Come on, lads, said Jimmy.
He slapped his hands together.
— Cop on, come on. — Joey’s one o’ the lads.
— He’s a fuckin’ oul’ fella.
— He’s not like other oul’ fellas.
— He’s exactly like other oul’ fellas.
— Do other oul’ fellas play in groups? said Jimmy. — Did your oul’ fella play with The Beatles?
— My da’s got better taste than tha’.
Dean laughed.
— Look, said Jimmy. — Look. — He’s older than us, righ’. But he’s not married, remember. So he’s as entitled to move in on a bird as we are. — An’ fair fucks to him.
He meant it.
— Jimmy’s righ’, men, said James. — It’s horrible, but true.
— It’s not — fair though, sure it’s not?
— I suppose it’s not, said James.
— O’ course it’s fuckin’ fair, said Jimmy. — Look, righ’, you could’ve tried to click with her yourself. But yeh didn’t. An’ Joey did. So fair fucks to him.
— Still, though, said Derek.
Deco called across to the girls.
— Did he force yeh to? — Cos if he did —
The girls screamed laughing.
— Yeh stupid prick, yeh, said Natalie.
— Na’hlie got off with HIM, said Bernie.
They still laughed.
— Why? Outspan asked gently. — Why, Nat’lie?
— Yeh fuckin’ slut! Deco roared.
They all turned on him. Jimmy pointed a finger at him.
— Take it easy.
James and Derek held Outspan back. Dean helped. Outspan stopped struggling. They let him go. Then Outspan jumped at Deco. They pulled him away. He let them. He’d made his point.
James had a psychology exam coming up in a few weeks.
— You moved in on Joey, Nat’lie? he asked.
— Yeah. — I did.
The girls laughed again.
— Yis’re disgusted, aren’t yis? said Imelda. — She likes him, yis stupid fuckin’ saps.
— We all like him, said Outspan. — But we’re not queuein’ up to get off with him.
They all laughed. Outspan had to think back to see why, but then he grinned.
Natalie grinned.
— No.
She laughed.
— He’s nice though. — He’s funny.
— An’ he’s done all those things, said Bernie.
— That’s it! said Deco. — Heh! that’s it. She’s a fuckin’ groupie.
— Well, wha’ did you ever do? said Bernie. — Besides wank yourself.
— Bernie! said Imelda.
— Well! — said Bernie.
— She’s a bleedin’ groupie. Just cos he — For fuck sake! — That’s pathe’ic, tha’ is.
— You’d get off with Madonna, wouldn’t yeh? said Natalie. — Wouldn’t yeh? — Fuckin’ sure yeh would.
— She’s not behind the garage door too, is she? said Billy.
— Or Joan Collins, said Imelda. — She’s fifty.
— Older, said Dean.
— I’d be into Joan in a big way meself, said Jimmy. — I must admit.
— Tina Turner’s a granny, said Natalie. — Yeh’d get off with her, wouldn’t yeh?
— Well, he got off with his own granny, said Billy. — He might as well have a bash at Tina.
— An’ your woman tha’ reads the News, said Imelda. — Yeh’d get off with her just cos she reads the News.
— He’d try to get off with Bosco, said Outspan.
When Joey The Lips opened the door they were laughing.
— Soul food, said Joey The Lips.
They stopped laughing and looked awkward, and away from Joey The Lips.
— Good man, Joey, said Outspan. — I’m fuckin’ starvin’. I haven’t eaten ann’thin’ since me dinner.
Jimmy grabbed Deco’s arm.
— Not a word, righ’. Not a fuckin’ word, righ’?
Deco freed his arm.
— Righ’.
— You’re a randy little bollix all the same, aren’t yeh, Joey? said Billy.
They laughed through their shock and embarrassment.
— The soul man’s libido, Brother, Joey The Lips explained.
* * *
By now The Commitments had about a quarter of an hour’s worth of songs that they could struggle through without making too many mistakes. They could sound dreadful sometimes but not many of them knew this. They were happy.
Joey The Lips told them that they were ready for the funkier uptempo numbers, the meaner stuff.
— Rapid!
He didn’t say it but Joey The Lips wanted to loosen up Dean, to get him swinging. Dean was the only one still suffering. He stood rigid and even though so far he’d only had three or four note changes at the most per song they usually came too quickly for him and they’d hear him saying Sorry yet again as the rest of them kept going.
A funkier number would force Dean into the open. It would do him good.
Deco was excited. This was where he’d come into his own. He was jumping up and down. He’d started wearing track-suit bottoms during rehearsals. He swallowed teaspoons of honey whenever he wasn’t needed for singing.
— Come on, come on, Deco shouted. — Let’s go.
— Wha’ ’re we doin’, Joey? Outspan asked.
Jimmy handed the lyrics to the girls and Deco.
— Knock on Wood.
— Deadly!
— I know this one, said Imelda.
— Not the disco version, said Jimmy.
— Aaah!
— No way, said Jimmy. — Use the butt-ends of your sticks for this one, Billy.
— Yes, sir.
They listened to the tape of Eddie Floyd.
— You and me together, Dean, said Joey The Lips. — Let’s show these dudes what a horn section does for a living.
— Jaysis, Joey, I don’t know.
Outspan got a chord and hit it.
— THI — THI —
— Is tha’ abou’ righ’, Joey? he asked.
— That’s about right. — Now, Dean, make that baby squeal.
— How?
— We did this one together before.
Joey The Lips put the trumpet to his mouth.
— DUHHH —
DU —
DUHHH —
— Remember?
— Oh yeah.
— Good boy. — Right. — That’s a nipple you’ve got there.
— Wish it was.
— Ready?
— S’pose so.
— DUHHH —
DU —
DUH — DEHHH —
DE —
DEHHH —
— Good good, said Joey The Lips. — And that’s where Brother Deco comes in. — Are we ready, cats?
They were ready.
— A one, a two.
Joey The Lips and Dean blew the intro again.
Billy joined in.
— THU — UNG UNG UNG — THU — UNG UNG UNG —
— I DON’T WANNA LOSE — HUH —
— Stop.
— Why — What’s wrong?
— Brother Deco, said Joey The Lips. — Leave the Huhs till later on, okay. We don’t want to alienate our white audience.
— I DON’T WANNA LOSE —
Outspan: —THI — THI —
THIS GOOD THANG —