Shout the Call

It felt like I had packed the entire contents of my flat into my case as I lugged it off the escalator and spotted The Britannia. I wiped the sweat from my brow and the hair that had stuck itself to my clammy head. Thank God I was meeting the band in a pub; there was a pint of cider with my name on it and it seriously would not touch the sides.

I found a table to accommodate myself and the band; a big, round affair with a sofa style seat that followed it all the way around, albeit it from a rather cosy little opening, just big enough for one person at a time to squeeze through. I heaved my case behind the sofa and headed to the bar to order my well deserved pint. Taking a large gulp from the glass, I manoeuvred my way back to the table, barely spilling a drop of cider. Sitting down finally, I pulled my phone from my back pocket and phoned the number Hanley had given me for Jim Stanley.

“Hi. Is this Mr Stanley?” I asked into the phone.

“Sure is,” came the reply, “Is this Beatrice Harvey from New Music; Non Stop?”

“It is indeed,” I replied nervously. “Um, just to let you know that I’m at The Britannia now.”

“Well Beatrice,” Jim replied, “thanks for phoning through oh, and by the way, please call me Jim. Let’s start this shindig as we mean to go on.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks Jim.” I felt immediately at ease now.

“I don’t suppose you could get the round in could you chick? It’s a bitter for me. Two ciders…………..”

“That’s exactly what I’m having now,” I interjected, feeling immediately rude. I had nothing to fear.

“Good girl, good girl,” Jim continued, chuckling, “and then best get a Guinness and a lager. Just put all the drinks on the tab and I’ll sort the bill out later. Make sure you put all your drinks on too sweets; its set to be a long and lovely afternoon. We’ll be with you in fifteen, maybe twenty minutes. See you in a bit.”

******

Having just inhaled my first pint and deciding to have just a little breather before I began my second, I thought it best to let Hanley know I was okay.

Hey Hanley, I began the text, I’m here. Spoke to Jim. They’re on their way.

Hanley replied almost instantly.

Cool Bea. Glad you got there ok. Now I know you’re there to do a job but just try and enjoy yourself and go with their flow. They love a good time so take a leaf out of their booze soaked books. You haven’t got to drive or anything, so it’s all good!

I know I tapped back, Thanks again Hanley

I pushed my phone back in my pocket and picked up my second drink, bringing it to my lips and chugging it down. As I tipped my head right back to take the very last of the gloriously refreshing liquid down, I spotted a face (and then the rest of his body) that I knew, without doubt, was Aaron Holmes, lead singer of Shout The Call. How I didn’t choke on my drink is beyond me but that face I would know anywhere. It was the face of the man I had pretty much obsessed over for the last six years. There is seriously no mistaking his heavenly face; that chiselled jaw and those amazing cheekbones. His eyes; the perfect marriage of blue and green and his hair, oh his hair - a mane of medium brown locks with hints of dirty blonde running through; an organised mess of nape-of-the-neck tousled curls. You can tell I’m just ever so slightly in awe, right? With all this breathtaking beauty unfolding in front of my eyes, I failed to notice the rest of the band filing in behind until they all packed in around me. Jim Stanley shuffled into place last.

“Ah, finally we meet, young Beatrice.” He said, extending his hand. I immediately shook it.

“Cool name. I like it.” Aaron piped in, uninvited.

“Um, thanks,” I replied, hoping that the hue of crimson red flushing my cheeks wasn’t as ridiculously apparent as it felt. “Actually, I’d feel more comfortable if you called me Bea. Beatrice sounds so ‘old’.”

“You do?” Aaron replied, “Well I think it’s gorgeous and it really suits you. You ROCK your name!”

For the third time, in as many hours, I was lost for words.

“You okay?” Aaron asked.

I hoped the shake of my head was just imaginary but it seemed it wasn’t, as Aaron’s laugh clearly pointed out.

“Beatrice. Hello?”

“Oh, um, sorry,” I replied quickly once I’d come round from my little daydream, “it must be this cider. I didn’t check what percentage it was.”

“Ah, a girl after my own heart,” Aaron replied, cocking a suggestive smirk my way, “I love a good pint of cider.”

I managed to snatch my gaze away from him in time for Jim to make the proper introductions.

“Guys, this is Beatrice Harvey, or Bea, as she prefers to be known. Aaron, you already know of her, obviously because it was you who pointed her sterling work out to me. Well done lad. Great call.”
Aaron shot me the ‘smirk’ again. I gulped and wondered if it sounded as loud as it did in my head. Jim continued.

“Anyway, Bea works for New Music; Non Stop and I’ve been told she’s a great all-rounder,” Jim suddenly stopped, tutting as the band laughed like little school boys at their self made innuendo.
“Oh, behave yourselves,” Jim went on, “Bea is a top photographer, reviewer and interviewer and according to her Boss, she’s the best in his company. She’s going to be joining us on the entire tour, which means she’ll be on the tour bus for the duration, unless, of course we pull in enough money to stay in a hotel here and there; any questions?”

Alex Henry, Shout The Call’s bassist, was first in line.

“Where’s she going to sleep?”

“With me, I hope!” Aaron answered quickly, laughing playfully.

“Now now,” Jim said, stopping the conversation before it had chance to even begin, “come on lads, I wasn’t born yesterday! Bea,” Jim looked straight at me, directing his speech, “You’ll have your own bunk but sadly you’ll be sharing the space with this bunch of reprobates. If anything goes on that you’re not happy with, anything at all, you just come to me, okay?”

I nodded, staring intently at Jim but at the same time, feeling Aaron’s eyes boring into me.

“So, are we all clear?” asked Jim, directing the question to all of us this time. Mumbles of “yeah yeah” and “okay, alright” went round the table. I just nodded again.

“All’s left for me to say is this,” Jim continued after he rolled his eyes at the response. “We don’t hit the road until eighteen thirty tomorrow, so you’ve got plenty of time to drink and get to know eachother….”

Aaron giggled cheekily.

“That’s enough you,” Jim shot out, pointing at Aaron, scolding him.

“Do you want me to go ahead and interview as planned tonight though, Mr Stanley. Um, I mean Jim?” I asked, knowing there was a schedule in place but hoping the schedule would be forgotten; I had a feeling an interview might spoil the atmosphere.

“Nah Bea,” Jim answered, “just chill out and sink a few. Today’s been more bloody tiring for you than these it has for these lot. Just enjoy yourself and remember, the drinks are on me. Now, would you like me to take your case back to the house for safe keeping?”

“Would you?” I replied with a warm, trusting smile, “that’d be great. Thanks Jim.”

Jim headed off with my case which didn’t look to me too much of a struggle to him but didn’t leave the pub until he called in the next round at the bar. That just left little old me and Shout The Call, all sitting around with expectant looks on our faces. Aaron’s did seem to be the most expectant though, that’s for sure.