 
Copyright © 2013 John David Harding

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Written in the United Kingdom for National Novel Writing Month 2012 and published in January 2013.

  1. # Preface

Hello there!

This is a special edition of my book. After releasing the original, it was suggested to me that there was too much explicit profanity within the novel, and this upset them. This is therefore an edition that contains almost no swear words as almost all references of "f**k", "s**t", "c**k", "p**s" and c**t" have been removed.

In November 2012 I wrote this book for National Novel Writing Month – the challenge to write a novel inside thirty days. It took me only two weeks to write, but over a month to edit and over the holiday season, I sent it to my group of alpha readers.

From their responses, I made further alterations to be able to present the book here today. I thank those people who gave up hours of their time – David, Turbo, Gary, my wife and everyone who wrote to me from the British Naturism forum. This book would not be as good, if it wasn't for their hard work and efforts.

This is my first fiction book under my real name, and I would love to receive feedback – good and bad. My website is listed at the bottom of the page and I will respond to messages I receive through it.

I am an occasionally active member of the Macclesfield Writers' Group so if anyone is in the Macclesfield area wants to try their hand at creative writing, then we meet at the library on Thursday afternoons; it's a diverse mix of characters and all are welcome.

Hope you enjoy the story.

Kind regards,

John

**My website:** <http://jdhardingbooks.wordpress.com/>

**Macclesfield Writing Group:** http://maccwriters.wordpress.com/
  2. # Chapter I

"Oh for Christ's sake," the red-haired eighteen year-old cried. "Just hold it still."

"My sarong fell off," an annoyed voice yelled from underneath a green piece of canvas. A crop of red hair, attached to another teenager, emerged from underneath the circular tent, and the young lady frantically retied the red fabric around her naked body. "Stop gettin' at me Paige," she moaned.

The 5ft 7in Paige ran her hands through her hair, pushing it behind her ears. "Half an hour, we've been trying to put this tent up," she snapped at her little sister. "You're in the tent, does it matter if you're naked? Honestly, Hazel, just..."

The younger girl grunted and scowled. "You know I hate it here. You know I hate people seeing me... like this."

"Then don't bloody come to a naturist camp site then," the eighteen year old spat.

"I didn't want to come, you know that. Mum and Dad made me."

Paige closed her eyes and counted to three. "Can we please just get this tent up?" The naked girl sighed and watched as her sixteen year-old sister tried to put the sarong around her bosom, but it came loose as she bent down and she dropped the pole for the second time in as many minutes. "Hazel," Paige yelled at her. "Mum and Dad'll be back soon. They've only gone to the Supermarket. Useless little..."

"Go and do one," Hazel snapped aggressively, gesturing rudely towards her elder sibling and kicked the pole with a clatter as she walked away from the crumpled canvas.

"Yeah, go on. Go! I'll get Jeremy to help me." Paige bellowed at the retreating figure of her younger sister, who took her silky sarong and held it around her body, before grabbing her book from the grass and walking purposely towards the little club house.

Paige swore at the departing girl; she had managed to put up the little two-person tent she shared with Hazel on her own, but the family tent was too big for her to assemble without assistance and she just needed her little sister to help hold the single pole as the guy ropes were fastened.

Paige tried to balance the pole herself, before running to tie the ropes, but had to catch the seven foot wooden strut before it hit the ground when it started to topple, and got a smack on the chin for her trouble. The frustrated teenager cried in pain and flailed her arms in a frantic, circular motion; her body was stuck in the canvas sheet and she had to back out from under the collapsed tent. She wiped her chin, and took a swig of the bottle of water and pondered her options.

The stubborn girl was not prepared to find her sister and ask for help, and had no intention of waiting for her parents to arrive back at the naturist camp site with her younger brother, Jeremy. They had expressly asked her to put up the tents while they went shopping; how hard can a ex-scouting tent be to put up?

Paige looked at the canvas sheet from the 25 year-old tent and carefully put the strut on the ground, lining the small spike at the end of the wooden pole with the eyelet in the tent, but the pole would not balance as she let go and she slipped as the weight came crashing down on her.

"Do you want any help?" Paige turned to find the source of the female voice and her eyes rested on a naked, black-haired teenager – a couple of inches taller than herself – standing next to the collapsed tent with a towel in her hand. "You look like you need it?"

"Sure," Paige muttered. "Thanks. I haven't seen you here before."

"Not been before. Just a few days away from home," the friendly girl replied. "Dad's got Easter off work, so he wanted us all to come. Claire, by the way."

"Paige." She gave a smile and gestured towards the other side of the tent. "Could you grab that pole? Once it is up I can peg out the sheet."

Claire put her towel on the floor next to Paige's water bottle, walked around the large canvas sheet and grabbed hold of the base of the wooden strut raising her seven-foot timber to a vertical position and Paige waited for a few seconds, to ensure that the tent wasn't about to collapse. "Are you OK in there?" Paige asked her newly-acquired friend, between the tent sheet.

"Yeah, fine." There was silence for a few moments before Claire asked. "Do you come here regularly?"

"Three times a year or so," Paige replied as she picked up the tent pegs and mallet, and began hammering in the first guy rope into the ground. "Not always with my family, I came this time last year with my ex. Only for Easter weekend though, but it was good to get away."

Paige and Claire spoke through the canvas shelter as the guy ropes were tied, and then the flysheet was thrown over the top and fastened securely. Claire, who was staying in a static caravan, was keen to know how many teenagers came to visit and what the camp site was like, and Paige was only too happy to talk to her.

They unfurled the groundsheet into the tent, and Paige sat down taking a swig of water, and thanked her. "I'm going to the pool. Do you want to come?" Claire offered with a smile.

"Yeah," Paige replied. "Yeah, I do! 'Cause I think I deserve it."

* * * * *

"Nice try at the end," the voice of the coach complimented him as Jack lifted a glass of beer to his lips. He was surrounded by his team mates, as well as the players of the side his team had just beaten, and he nodded in appreciation of the compliment.

"Yeah, bloody fast legs for a big guy!" Another voice added, and Jack smiled uncomfortably in receipt of the adulation and praise. "Not having a problem playing for the 'C' Team. It'll be the Stiffs next."

Jack smiled and took a few sips from the glass of beer in his hand. His team mates knew each other far better than Jack did; he had only recently been promoted from the youth teams, but he tried to join in on the conversation.

In response, a couple of the players on the 'C' Team of the amateur rugby club were keen to get to know their new Inside Centre and Jack was happy to talk about his exclusive college where he was enrolled, as well as the family firm which his father was encouraging him to join.

The noise made by the two rugby teams rose as the amount of alcohol that was consumed increased, and a handful of drinking games saw Jack go from fairly tipsy to very drunk. He got up, swaying and groaning, as he stumbled to the toilets, feeling nauseous.

The drunken player slumped against the toilet wall and took a few deep breaths that caused him to dry-heave. His fair hair was ragged and his clothes dirty and stained. He could feel the room spinning and gripped the sink to stop himself from tumbling into the wall.

Jack rejoined the group and passed on any further beer. He was called a "lightweight" by his team mates but the eighteen year-old student knew that if he accepted any more alcohol he would be violently sick, and it would spoil his evening.

Jack was clearly drunk, but he wasn't totally inebriated, and had some awareness of his surroundings. His glass of water was laughed at, and he was teased, but Jack wasn't the only player who had swapped ale for something lighter and as the afternoon gave way into evening, he felt the effects of the alcohol lessen.

He watched as the young barmaid picked up the plethora of dirty glasses from the table and he grabbed a handful of them that were stacked. "I'll give ya a hand," he offered and carried a dozen dirty pint glasses to the bar. She smiled and thanked him, and he leant across the bar. "I've seen you around, haven't I?"

The blonde girl gave a defensive laugh. "Err... I don't think so."

Jack nodded and smiled at her. "Yeah, sure I have. You've been modelling haven't you?" He gave a coy smile as she sighed and he chortled. "Yes, that's it," he exclaimed. "You were in Sexiest Women in Britain, right?"

"No," she said firmly, closing the bar hatch with a bang and shaking her head as she looked at the floor. "Now, would you like another drink?"

Jack pulled his wallet out of his trouser pocket. "I'll have half a Guinness and whatever you're having."

"I can't drink when I am working," the slim barmaid told him and adjusted her clothes. "And I guessed you knew that."

"Well I will just have to wait until you are not working," he teased as she poured the black liquid into the half-pint glass. "Won't I?"

"I don't think my boyfriend would be very impressed, do you?"

Jack shrugged as he passed the banknote over to her and she slid him his change on the varnished bar with a smile. He took a few sips of the drink and ambled back to the posse of players but the gathering was starting to wind down. After finishing the drink, he said his goodbyes to the thinning group of rugby players, and walked out into the street with his rucksack on his back.

Jack stumbled as he left the pub and hit the fresh air, and wiped his eyes. In front of him, waiting at the bus stop opposite were two people he never wanted to see again. The girl waved at him, but Jack feigned deafness and blindness to walk away from that street; just what was his ex-girlfriend and ex-best friend doing outside the amateur rugby club?

* * * * *

"The rumours are rubbish."

The tracksuit-clad skinhead grunted from the other side of the desk. "Yeah... and they said Villa 'ad scouts, like. Watching me at the Torquay game. I scored, and I thought it was one of my better goals."

Andre Wilson sighed and rubbed his eyes, straightening his suit and wiping his brow. He was exasperated. "Sorry, but it's not true. Ummm... they might not be spending any money, but they aren't looking in the Conference for players."

Baz grunted. "Scored two goals as well," he muttered, barely moving his lips and gestured wildly at his agent's representative. "Ain't worth scorin' if Villa weren't watching. Why they not interested in me?"

Andre sighed and puffed. "I'm not sure you'd fit into their system," Andre stoically replied, but Baz was insistent.

"Yeah, I'm good anywhere. Last week, gaffer told me to play right wing, and I'm like, 'I dain't like it,' but, ya know, I do it, 'cause it's a game."

"Would that be the game you got sent off in?"

"Yeah," Baz admitted. "But that weren't till the eighteenth minute, like, ya know. I nearly scored 'fore that." Baz took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it in the small meeting room. "Don't mind d'ya?"

"No," Andre replied tersely. "Look Baz, if you want to move, then we could see if there's any takers in the Summer, but it's tough market out there. Clubs aren't carrying as many pro's on their books and we'll see. Maybe a League Two club might want to take a nibble."

"Nah," Baz cried. "Want Premiership."

Andre sniffed. "That's... that's... well that's probably not going to happen."

"Why? That Jonesy kid at the club's got a move out to QPR."

"Yes, but he's sixteen and... well... he's made an impression. And he's fit. You smoke twenty a day, drink like a fish, you're 31, and you've got as many red and yellow cards this season as you've got goals." Baz snorted and gestured wildly.

"Ya sayin' I'm no good?" He shouted. "I got Young Player of the Season Award," he yelled.

"Yeah, in 2001," Andre muttered under his breath and coughed. "No, Baz, it's not that. It's just the reality of things."

"I think this agency dain't want me," he shouted. "Where's Greg?"

The door opened, and Andre looked around to see the face of his Uncle standing the doorway. "I'm here," he said loudly and rubbed his face. "Sorry Baz, been at the bank. Is there a problem?"

"Yeah. I wanna a move to a big club, and your bloody monkey says I can't."

"He wants to move to Villa," Andre added. "And..."

Greg raised his hand to stop his nephew from talking and sat down at the table, listening to the wishful footballer. The experienced agent smiled and promised that he would do all he could to secure his dream move for him once the transfer window reopened. "You just keep banging those goals in," Greg told him as he shook the footballer's hand. "I'm sure we can get a top club to take a look at you if you're on fire. There's only a few games left 'til the end of the season; try and get a hatful of goals."

"Yeah, and I want Premiership," Baz demanded. "I want a crack at the big time, with big money."

Greg's smile was unmoved. "Score those goals and I'll see what I can do." He nodded and waited until Baz was out of the door before turning to face his employee, sitting behind his own little desk. "What you tell him that for?" Greg barked.

"He wants to play in the Champions League, I mean, come on Uncle."

Greg snorted. "All footballers want to play Champions League or the Premiership. No footballer wants to be stuck at this level. I know he's got no chance, but we just humour them," the agent replied. "He'll be lucky to get Accrington-bloody-Stanley, but tell him what he wants and leave the cold, hard truth for the negotiations in the Summer."

"Why do you keep him? He can't contribute more than twenty quid a week."

"Thirty-five," came the response. "But that's not the point. It's good to have a few footballing stars on the books."

"Stars!" Andre cried in disbelief. "We got two League Two players and a handful of Conference." His uncle shrugged. "And that guy who was in yesterday."

"Terry Kaer, big rocker in his time."

"I looked him up and he reached number ten in the singles chart in 1972. And that's it. I bought an album of his last week just to see what his music was like, and it's awful. And he's not even that popular as I tried to download it off the Pirate Bay and no-one admitted to having it."

His uncle snorted. "Yeah, well, I've represented him since 1971. That's a long time."

"I know, but, he's so... minor."

His uncle shrugged. "You bought his album, you say?" Andre nodded. "That'll double the royalties for the month then." He cackled as he turned to go into his office, but his young protégé followed him into the small room.

"Why can't we get some young bands or some young footballers? Some people with star potential." Greg sighed as he sat down and shrugged.

"Go get me some young stars, and I'll represent them."

"Cause the financial future can't be that great if we are just representing fifth tier footballers and Z List musicians? And I won't get started on the actors."

Greg scratched behind his ear. "No. It's not," he said quietly. "It's not at all. Go on then, find me some people with star quality. If you can."
  3. # Chapter II

The sausages sizzled on the small disposable barbecue, and a small plume of dense smoke rose from the hot charcoals where the fat dripped through the wire mesh and onto the burning embers. Paige wiped her eyes and moved her naked body out of the direction of the exhaust as her sister moaned. "Ohh," Hazel cried and coughed as the smoke changed direction and drifted over to her. "All the smoke will get in my sarong." She scrambled to her feet, and wandered a few metres away before sitting down, further away from the barbecue than anyone else in the family.

Paige put her hands around her mouth to yell across to her. "Then don't wear it," Paige shouted, emphasising that her sister had moved further away than necessary from them.

"Paige, Darling," her naked mother called. "Hazel wants to wear it, and it's her choice."

"It's silly," she replied forcefully and brushed her long, wavy, red hair out of her face. "It's a naturist camp site. We've been naturists for years. She is the only person wearing one and... I'm fed up with her sulking and attention-seeking."

Hazel's eyes rose from her dystopian thriller and squinted at her indignant sister. "You're always getting at me," she moaned.

"Yeah, and I know why you want to wear it," Paige spat. "To hide all the..."

"That's enough," her mother interrupted sharply and turned the sausages on the barbecue. Paige scowled and watched as the youngest member of the family, the dumpy Jeremy, buttered finger rolls and put a small portion of crisps on each plate.

Paige shook her head as Hazel readjusted her sarong, and the elder sister got up from her patch of grass. She strode purposely around the smoky barbecue to her younger sister and snatched the brightly coloured garment from her grasp. Hazel shrieked. "Give it back," the teenager yelled and Paige backed away from her, holding the red sarong in her hands.

"It'll do you good," she teased. "Teach you that your scars are..."

"Paige, give it back to me." Hazel shouted as she frantically covered herself with her hands and advanced on her sister. "Everyone's looking at me."

"Yes, 'cause you are acting like a baby," Paige taunted. The voice of her mother ordering Paige to return the silky garment to her sister went unheeded, and the tormentor skipped away as Hazel chased her sibling through the pitched tents, who was jumping over guy ropes with gleeful cackling.

Paige wound her way through the canvas shelters and the site; she was nimbler than her younger and taller sister and her red hair streaked out behind her as she ran. Paige mocked her emotional sibling as she jumped over a sunbathing boy and held the sarong out in front of her. "Scared of being seen, are we?"

"Paige, I bloody hate you," Hazel screamed as she caught up with her sister and her hand pushed the coltish tease in the face so that she fell to the ground. Hazel snatched the sarong from her sister's grasp as the red-haired soubrette landed with a bump and snarled viciously.

Paige cried out in pain as she landed, and swept her feet across the backs of Hazel's legs so that she fell on the soft grass alongside her. "Don't push me like that."

"Well don't take my sarong then," Hazel moaned, and their spat was interrupted by their big-breasted mother striding across the camp site, to scold her errant offspring.

"This is the last time we will be on holiday together," she moaned. "You two are getting too big to go away on holiday with us so don't spoil it for us."

"But..."

"But you're as bad as one another," she spat and dragged Hazel up by the arm. Paige scrambled to her feet and walked back in silence, allowing her sister and mother to walk in front of her.

"What's up with your friend?" The sunbathing teenage boy asked as Paige drew level.

"She's my sister, and she's a prude," Paige muttered and shrugged. "She doesn't want people to see her body."

"Oh," came the response.

"Yeah, I know. Naturist place and the like. She's just weird."

"My sister's the same," he told her. "Maybe it's just younger sisters." Paige nodded, and with the lingering eyes and ears of her mother only a few feet away, decided that it was unwise to comment too much more.

"Maybe," she muttered.

* * * * *

"Oh hiya," Claire called as the full-figured teenager walked past the two tents that made up Paige's family's residence for the week. "I'm off to the pool, my parents are sunbathing and my brother's in the woods, so I'm alone. Fancy joining me?"

Paige put the last of the hot dog in her mouth and nodded, grunting with her mouth full. "Yeah," she said through her half-chewed sausage, and grabbed the towel from underneath her, swinging it away from her sister.

"Don't go swimming on a full stomach," she was ordered but Paige grunted. "You'll get a tummy ache."

"Mum," Paige cried in annoyance at the mothering. "I do know. I'm fine. I am eighteen." Paige waited until she was out of earshot of her mother to complain to her holiday friend. "She fusses."

Claire shrugged. "My mum does it too."

"Bloody annoyin'," the angry girl muttered and swung her towel over her shoulder.

"Is your sister OK?" Claire asked. "I saw her getting quite distressed earlier."

"That's one word for it," Paige replied with a guilty smile, and she looked at her naked friend. "She's gone textile." Claire didn't respond, and Paige licked her lips as she considered how best to continue. "She doesn't want people seeing her. Been like that for a couple o' years now. It winds me up."

"Why?" Claire asked in a concerned voice.

"'Cause, it's naturist here. And I don't feel comfortable if some people are dressed. It's wrong. It shouldn't be allowed."

"But loads of teenagers and... err well adults... have times when they want to be covered up. It's just... puberty? Didn't you have that?"

"Hell no!" Paige cried. "It's just... growing up. Did you?"

Claire nodded and opened the gate to the pool. "A bit," Claire admitted. "I got bullied at school about my weight so it... well it affects you."

"Wouldn't affect me," Paige muttered. "Only matters if you care what people think. I get called flat-chested all the time."

"But, you're not," Claire replied and the two teenagers threw their towels onto empty deckchairs.

"I know I'm not. But 'B' cups are small now," Paige giggled. "Not like your massive pair!"

Claire snorted, but her companion didn't wait for a response and dived into the unheated pool. Paige emerged from the water, her red hair plastered to her face and shivered, but smiled as she pushed her shoulders under the water and panted. "It's quite warm," she lied. "Once you get used to it."

Claire sat on the edge of the pool and put her shins in the cool water. She squealed and watched as Paige swam across the pool on her front and then her back. "Come in then."

"I'm just getting used to it."

"You did this earlier," Paige moaned and flicked water at her friend. Claire shrieked and kicked the cold water back, but Paige was unmoved as the water landed on her. "Just jump in, it's easier when you just take the plunge."

"She's right," the lifeguard added as he overheard the two girls talking and the shapely, black-haired eighteen year-old, pushed her body upright and tried to slide gingerly into the water.

She shrieked when it got to her waist and pushed herself back out of the water. "It's freezing!" Paige shook her head and swam back across the pool. It took Claire a few minutes to get used to the water temperature enough to join Paige, but by this time, the energetic girl had completed a handful of laps of the pool.

Paige and Claire raced each other several times from one side of the pool to the other, but Claire was the stronger swimmer and won almost every race. By the time they had spent almost an hour in the pool, Claire was ready to leave. "I'm getting out," she announced, and Paige, keen not to be left alone, hauled herself out of the water and into the sunshine. "Do you want a drink?"

Claire pointed to a vending machine on the verandah. "No change," Paige replied and Claire reached for her money bag clipped to her towel and lent her friend the 60p she needed. They sat down on the lawn in the direct sunshine and opened their drinks. "How long you staying for?" Claire asked and made small talk with her new friend. Paige enjoyed talking to the softly spoken teenager and during their conversation, found that they had much in common. They chatted about boyfriends (they had both recently been dumped), hobbies (they both liked singing and music) and naturism (their families were both members of local naturist clubs).

"So, why are you so angry with your sister?" Claire asked as their conversation petered out and Paige shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess, she gets to do her own thing, and I was always told just to get on with it," Paige admitted and rubbed her eyes. "I mean, I don't understand why she is here if she doesn't join in. I think she should go home if she doesn't want to be here, but I know that she can't. But she's here and should just be normal while she's here."

"I spent a few months when I hated going," Claire admitted as she got up from the floor. "I... I didn't like my weight. When I was fourteen." Paige screwed up her face, and Claire shrugged. "I know I am about half-a-stone overweight."

"No, you're not."

"I am," Claire argued with her as they threw the cans into the bin. "I know that, but when I was fourteen I was pretty skinny, like you are now." Paige tensed and opened her mouth to interrupt, but Claire continued before she could say anything. "But I thought I was very fat and, I stopped eating."

"Like... Anorexia?"

"Yeah," Claire muttered. "That's what they called it. And I would wear T-shirts, shorts, everything. So maybe your sister is going through that?"

"No," Paige told her. "I know what it is. She has problems and, although she denies it, she likes the attention."

"Oh." Paige and Claire walked to the tents, talking earnestly to each other, when a scowling Hazel, wearing a long T-shirt that came down to her knees, glared at them.

"I'm saying nothing," Paige muttered under her breath to Claire as they approached the teenager, and then broke her promise. "Hazel, seriously, what the hell is that?"

* * * * *

"Go on, have a go!" Paige's mother passed the small folder to her daughter as Paige watched a performer take to the stage and Hazel sulked in the corner of the small pavilion. There was a mixture of naked and clothed patrons, although Paige noticed she was towards the younger, as well as the least dressed, end of the visitors.

"I'm not sure," Paige replied. "I like to sing my own songs." She looked up to see a middle-aged married couple murder a Sonny and Cher song, and then looked down at the folder. "And..."

"You could do one with your sister," her mother suggested, and the apprehensive Paige scowled at Hazel, who was staring at her lemonade. "We'd like that!"

"Don't think so," Paige muttered and looked around the room for Claire; she wasn't present, although the karaoke night had only just begun and there were many families who also hadn't arrived. Paige flicked through the folder, reading the available songs by each artist and jumped when an ice cube rolled down her back.

Her squeals weren't heard as the couple got overly-generous applause and Paige turned to see a giggling, and dressed Claire hovering over her. "Serves you right for flicking cold water at me earlier," the voluptuous teenager giggled and Paige scowled. She could smell alcohol on Claire's breath, and Claire pulled up a chair to sit alongside her new friend. "Sorry, this is Mum, Dad, George," she said with a wave of the hand and pointing towards her two parents and brother sitting on the next table.

"Well you've met my family," Paige muttered.

Claire grabbed the folder. "Oh, you doing it? Of course, you said you liked singing. What are you doing? Joan Jett you liked, didn't you and Pink and Katy Perry and..."

"I wasn't going to do it," Paige interrupted and adjusted her towel on the cold, hard seat. "I'm not great at singing in front of audiences and..."

"Oh, I'll do it with you," Claire gushed. "I love karaoke. I'm more of a Lily Allen and Katy Perry person but... you doing it Hazel?"

"No!" Hazel cried and sneered at her elder sister. "Do it with her, not me." Her mother looked expectantly at Paige.

"What about Firework or Teenage Dream or..."

"I'll do Hot N Cold," Paige said firmly. "I've sung that a few times when..."

"Great," Claire interrupted and looked at Paige and her family. "Sorry, were we meant to be naked for tonight?"

Paige gestured around the room at the other patrons. "It's up to you," she told her, and Claire looked her friend. "Some people dress for the evening, and some don't."

"And you don't," Claire replied as Paige, the only naked member of her family, grimaced. "Well we'd look a bit silly if you're naked and I'm dressed," she reasoned and then caught Paige in the cheek as she moved her hands up to remove her dress and then slid her bum up to remove her knickers. "Sorry!"

"How many have you had?"

"A couple. With our meal. That's all. And one with the... ahh... come on!"

Claire giggled and grabbed the hand of her red-haired friend, and Paige chuckled to herself. Claire was considerably more assertive and outgoing when she had had a bit to drink, and the excitable girl dragged Paige to the little stage.

They had to wait for a few minutes until it was their turn, but the self-styled Karaoke Master, selected their choice of song on the karaoke machine as Claire and Paige took to the stage. Paige closed her eyes; she knew the words off by heart and waited for her cue. She was nervous, and her heart pounded in her chest. She felt butterflies dance around her bellybutton and took a few deep breaths as she opened her mouth to sing. Claire, despite being tipsy, was pitch perfect and the two girls sang in perfect harmony adding energy to the song through their enthusiastic voices.

The room feel silent as they listened; the undercurrent of chattering and whispering during past performances disappeared and the two girls played to their attentive audience who were rapt with attention.

Paige opened her eyes and made eye contact with her brother, but Hazel was staring at her drink and not watching her sister. Paige turned to face her singing partner, who was using the words on the screen as she sang. It was easily the biggest crowd Paige had sung in front of since she had had the disaster of the school talent show when she was sixteen, and felt the buzz of being in front of a large audience again.

Claire went slightly off pitch as the song finished, but the two girls held the attention of the crowd and got a deafening applause from the delighted group of naturists. Paige stared at her sister who just shook her head, but gave a "woo!" and passed the microphone back to the compère.

There was little doubt that the two teenagers had stolen the show and as the acts dried up, they were enticed back to the stage by an appreciative audience, some nagging and a couple of glasses of wine, to do a further number; Paige chose "Bad Reputation" that suited Claire's voice more than her own.

Her attempts to get her sister to come and join them on stage for a third song were met with an angry grunt and Paige watched as the stroppy teenager stormed out of the pavilion.

Paige caught up with her fifteen minutes later, sitting by the side of the pool and with her legs dangling over the side. "We won," she said as she approached. "Claire and me won the karaoke." Hazel said nothing; her eyes were focused on the ripples in the water and Paige sat down next to her. "Bit cold to go swimming?"

"What do you want?" Hazel snorted, and Paige stared at the side of the pool; it had been a lovely evening and there was no need for her sister to spoil it with her moodiness. "Go away."

"Are you going to talk to me?" Paige asked and shivered in the cold, night-time air.

"No," Hazel spat and Paige shook her head as she righted herself to her feet. She coughed, took a step back, and pushed her sister into the icy cold water of the pool.

Hazel shrieked and screamed as her body disappeared into the cold, bleak water. "You witch," she spluttered loudly into the moonlit evening.

"Language," Paige taunted and knelt on the water's edge to reach into the pool and haul her sister out of the water. "Now you've got to talk to me."

"S'off," Hazel shouted, her wet shirt and shorts clinging to her body. Paige passed her the towel that she had been sat on for most of the evening and Hazel snatched it with a grunt. "What was that for?"

"To get you to talk to me," her elder sister spat back and folded her arms. "'Cause you've been right moody all week and..." Hazel pushed past her and strode out of the small pool area ignoring the words of the well-intentioned girl.

* * * * *

"Two million hits on YouTube," the man told Andre. "Two million. And we've sold some merchandise through our site. Eight T-shirts at the last count."

"Right," Andre said as the bald man showed him into a derelict warehouse that was packed with ramps, weights, skateboards and bicycles. "I saw some of them. They looked a little bit dangerous."

"Yeah, that's the point," he replied. "We ain't called Crazy Stunts for nothing. I mean, over here, that's where I got pulled along on a skateboard at 30mph and hit the wall." He smiled, and Andre pulled out a sample contract from his bag.

"And you're insured and this is your warehouse, and the like?"

The man sniffed. "Does it matter? OK, it's not my building, but it's, falling down. No-one cares."

Andre hummed. "OK, that would be a problem, but my uncle'll talk 'bout that. Ummm, well, as discussed on the 'phone, my uncle might be interested. Look over this contract, and we can meet up at our office, have a chat and decide on your plans and if we help realise them and then it's... err... good."

"Good?" The man cried. "Effin' awesome. I mean YouTube's great, but everyone wants to be on the telly, right?" He pulled out his mobile phone and touched the screen. "This should definitely get me somewhere. Look at this one," he shouted and flicked a video on. Andre saw a shaky hand-held camera focus on a man surrounded by flames and then run through the fire, setting his clothes alight.

"What the..."

"Yeah, I know. Effin' hurt like 'ell but watch this." Andre watched open-mouthed as the man ripped off his trousers and underwear and ran back through the flames screaming as the fire touched his pubic region. The fire looked incredibly intense and after jumping through the inferno again, he ran towards the exit with the cameraman following him out of the building.

"What's that?"

"Oh, it's our video of the week... for next week. Pretty special, huh? That's the best thing 'bout these warehouses, we can do what we like to 'em."

Andre puffed. "Well we would need to sort out insurance and safety, and all that, we can't..."

"Ahh... bollocks to that. I'd never get to do anything like set fire to a ware..." His voice trailed off as Andre listened and he sighed. "Look, we get loads of hits each week 'cause we're original. We make money."

"Right," Andre muttered. "And this warehouse you filmed that in. Would that be the building just down the road that was on the news last week?"

"No," he cried and bit his lip. Andre raised his eyebrows and the man shrugged. "Yeah," he admitted.

"OK. That will be a problem. I'll see what my uncle says," he told him and shook his hand, before walking outside the warehouse and ringing the local CID as he meandered down the road. There was an active arson investigation and Andre had an exceptionally good lead for them.
  4. # Chapter III

Jack crossed the road and approached the park; his music on his iPod skipped onto a rock song and he hummed along to the beat as he strode purposefully towards his home. His bag slapped against the side of his legs as he walked.

The teenager looked up and stopped. In the park, on the swings was his ex-girlfriend, Ellie. The wavy-haired brunette swung gently back and forth, and Jack scanned the park for any sign of Ian, her new boyfriend. He heard the girl shriek and looked back to the swings; Ian had obviously been loitering nearby as he pulled her off the seat and tickled her on her sides as he held her in his arms. Her squeals stopped, and he saw the two lovers move their heads together for a kiss.

Jack pulled the earphones from his ears and leaned against the wall by the side of the park, watching his ex-girlfriend and ex-friend intently. They kissed, they chased each other, they flirted, and she teased; it could have been Jack and Ellie from six months ago.

Ellie had not changed much, her playful exuberance and smile was clear for everyone to see, and Jack rubbed his eyes; tears were forming and he had seen enough.

Jack took a few steps back and walked back down the road, taking the "long way" from the station to his house. He could not bear to see them any longer.

He muttered and thought as he strode home; just what had he done wrong with Ellie? Why couldn't he move on from her? Every time he thought that he was over their four year relationship breaking down, something would remind him of the coquette, and he would be angry and upset for days.

He kicked a stone in annoyance at the pavement, and it bounced onto the grass verge. He knew, the real reason he was not over Ellie was because Ellie had not been replaced in his affections. There was a vacuum in his life that had been created when they had split, and he was finding that her painful memory was more than capable of filling the hole her presence had left behind.

He opened the door to his house and kicked his shoes off with such force they were propelled across the hall and bounced off the wall in the corner of the room, leaving two little marks on the cream wallpaper. He listened for anyone in the house, but the cleaner-cum-house manager was on holiday and the gardener didn't work on Wednesdays. He heard the feint sound of a television in a neighbouring room; it would be his mother.

Jack walked up the stairs to his bedroom and slammed the door, throwing himself down on his bed and staring at the ceiling. He needed to break free from Ellie; she reminded him of a weekend where he felt angry, isolated and suicidal. A weekend where he wanted to hurt people, and when he cried. A weekend that was, without doubt, the worse weekend of his life.

He needed to let it out, and for the first time in months picked up his pad to begin writing a song. The lyrics would be violent, hateful, nasty and vindictive, but that's what Jack thought of his ex-girlfriend.

* * * * *

Paige sat down in the little pavilion and pulled out a deck of cards from her bag. "I hate the rain," Claire moaned.

"It's great," Paige replied. "OK, if you are wearing clothes, you get wet and cold, but naked in a storm... ahhh, that's magical." Claire giggled.

"I've not done naked in a storm," she replied. "I don't think that I have done half of what you have," she moaned.

"We could go and run naked through the trees if you want." Claire pulled a face and hummed. "We won't get hit by lightning or anything."

"Oh, I'm sure we'll get funny looks."

Paige snorted and shuffled the deck of cards. "I don't mind. I go home tomorrow." Claire's face fell a little as Paige reminded her friend about her forthcoming departure; they had spent most of the week with each other. They swam, sunbathed, cooked, played tennis, walked and even sang together. For the first time in years, Paige had found someone she liked on holiday and had the beginnings of a good friendship with the normally reserved Claire.

"I got four more days," Claire replied. "But Dad says he wants to go outside the site tomorrow, so we might be going sight-seeing. Not that there is much to see."

"Mum and Dad have done that today," Paige muttered. "Not sure what they plan to see, but there must be something that interests them!" Her eyes lowered to the table in front of them. "So... cards?" Paige asked and held up the deck. Claire groaned and complained that she didn't know any card games, so Paige taught her Poker so well that the teacher lost the first five hands to her student.

Claire giggled as the rain hammered on the flat roof of the pavilion and both of the girls turned to the window that looked out onto the centre of the camp site and they saw the harassed figure of Hazel run past the window. Paige chortled and walked to the glass front, causing a cold draft to chill the residents as she opened the PVC door and beckoned to her sister.

She was soaking; her long red hair was dripping wet and her long-sleeved T-shirt was almost see through. "Come in," Paige ordered and Hazel's eyes narrowed.

"Where's Mum? Is she back yet?"

"I thought you were with them," Paige replied, shrieking as the guttering leaked cold rain onto her naked body. "I've not seen them."

Hazel grunted and threw her hands in the air. "Oh for God's sake! She's got my coat in the car."

"Well come in, you'll freeze to death out there."

Hazel hesitated, but her elder sister glared at her and she relented by stomping into the room and sitting down at the table with Claire. "Hi," Claire offered and smiled at the angry teenager. "Cards?"

"Oh, and get those clothes off," Paige demanded as she sat down. Hazel shook her head and crossed her arms. "You'll freeze to death, you must be freezing. Sitting in wet clothes is silly."

"No! I don't want to."

"Oh for Christ's sake," Paige cried and tapped the table. "Stop being so stupid." She waved her arms in front of her sister. "No-one cares about... them!"

Hazel clenched her fists and grimaced. "Just leave me alone."

"No, you have spoilt this holiday by being so awkward. We only came away together as a family after what you tried to do."

"You always bring that up," Hazel spat and wiped her eyes. "I just don't want to be naked, and it's not because of them."

Paige grabbed her sister's wrist and ran her hand up her arm, forcing the wet long-sleeved T-shirt to her elbow. Hazel tried to pull away, but Paige was stronger and showed Claire the wrists of her sister. "Then you can sit like this, 'cause you aren't afraid of showing them."

"Are they ..." Claire muttered and looked at the pained face of Paige's sister. "Oh, right."

Hazel tore her hand from her elder sister's grasp and pulled her clothing down to cover the fading scars. "Just leave me alone," she spat and looked at the rain rattling against the window.

Paige dealt out cards to Claire and her sister, but Hazel refused to play, and Paige's bad luck continued as Claire won the vast majority of the hands dealt. Hazel sat, watching the two girls play and banter, refusing to join in and sulking.

Paige turned to her sister and begged her to participate, but she refused, and just brooded. "Hey, you two," the barman shouted as he walked from the bar into the games' area. "I got the karaoke machine plugged in if you want to use it."

Claire looked at Paige and smiled. "Sure," Claire muttered and tapped the table. "Shall we?"

"Yeah, OK!" Paige cried and jumped up. "I'm fed up with you beating me at cards." Claire giggled at Paige, who looked at Hazel, and held out her hand. "Come join us, please!"

Hazel shock her head. "I can't sing," the young sister muttered. "I can't..."

"You can," Paige implored, but Hazel just shook her head, and sat unmoved in her chair as her sister and her sister's friend gleefully climbed onto the stage to entertain a pavilion full of bored naturists.

* * * * *

"These are incredible," Andre announced as he looked over the small stall in the craft market. "Really incredible. The effort in these... just wow!"

The scruffy man nodded, but Andre couldn't see any smile as the gentleman's facial hair covered most of his mouth. Andre looked back to the table and looked at the oddly-shaped fruit and vegetables. Each item was intricately carved into a small statue or ornament. He was enchanted by a small pirate boat made from a potato, complete with sails and a mast and handed over £20 for the item.

The man put the item into a cake box. "Do you have any representation?"

He froze as he passed the potato to the agent, who took a business card from his wallet. "Representation?"

"Yeah, I work for Incredible Talents, and the skill involved in these items is incredible. I'd love to represent you; get you doing demonstrations on television, markets, fairs and the like."

"Oh," he muttered gruffly. "You're not a lawyer?"

"No," Andre replied, a little surprised at the question. "No I am not a lawyer. Do I look like one?"

The scruffy artist grunted and sniffed. "Nah, I dain't need yer help," he told him.

"But this is very unique. Who would have thought you could make Big Ben out of a parsnip or Wayne Rooney out of a turnip. It's brilliant and..."

"I don't need ya help," the artist barked, and Andre backed away. "You legal types are all the same aren't you?" He picked up an uncarved potato from behind his display and threw it towards the retreating man. He flinched as the root vegetable arced in the air and landed with a thud on his arm.

"Ow!"

"Get out of here!" Andre turned to see dozens of people watching the unfolding scene and chatter broke out in hushed whispers.

"Don't mind ole Jake," a gruff man told Andre as the confused agent walked past his stall. "He's always tetchy when he's in court the next day."

"Court?"

"Yeah, flashing. Dirty bastard was up at the girls' school."

"Right," Andre muttered. "Cheers." He turned and looked at the man, sitting behind his stall, and glanced at the soaps on display.

"What did you want with him?"

"Nothin' now," Andre muttered and held out a bar of eucalyptus soap. "Not with that sort of record!"

* * * * *

Jack sat down at the dining table and looked across at his parents. "We said that a gap year would be a bad idea," they reminded him. "We told you nine months ago when you skipped on your University application."

"That was Ellie," he moaned, thinking briefly of his ex-girlfriend. "It's not my fault she's in the year below, and she wanted us to go to Uni together."

His father tapped his fingers. "You're a Rees-Montague, man. Little bit of fluff would've waited. Told you to put your foot down." Jack shrugged and looked at the bulging veins in his father's face. The father took a sip of his whisky and rubbed his chin.

"We don't want you moping around the house all day for a year," his mother told him. "Or going to those ghastly places in the third world to do, what they call, charity work."

"Absolutely," his father boomed. "Not going to Africa, or South America. Or Croydon." He laughed at his own joke as Jack sat unmoved.

"Well I was sort of planning to get a job," he told his parents. "Just to earn a bit of money and, you know." He shrugged. "I haven't thought about where, just get my exams out the way."

"Well, it's a bloody good job that I have, isn't it? You can work at the factory for the year."

Jack gulped and stammered. "I'm... ummm... I'm... well, I'm not sure..."

"Nonsense," his father shouted. "It'll be partly yours one day. Best to see how it all works. You can work under me, and we'll have you being useful in no time."

"It wasn't the sort of work I was hoping to do. I got some part-time..."

"Nonsense! Some 7am starts and 9pm finishes'll do you good," his father interrupted, ignoring the reticence of his son.

"I think it's a great idea," the voice of his mother exclaimed. "I think it will do you good."

"Proper days work," his father added. "When you finish those exams of yours, we'll get you started."

"But..."

"No buts," his father shouted over the top of his son. "All those things you've had, the driving lessons, the recording studio above the garage, the £2,000 bike you don't use, the car, the... everything. They all had to be paid for. You can learn how hard it is to earn those sums so maybe you might appreciate them a bit more."

"Yeah I know, but..."

His father glared at him, and Jack trailed off; it was pointless to argue.
  5. # Chapter IV

"All packed?"

"Yeah, sort of," Paige muttered and sat in the field with the sausage sandwiches her parents had prepared. Claire took a crisp from Paige's packet and took a sip of her own can of fizzy cola. "Dad would quite like the tents to dry a bit before packing them but apart from that we're done. It's easier if you can get a villa," Paige teased. "But we aren't all upper middle-class like you."

"Err... not fair!"

"Yeah, I know," Paige added with a grin. "We booked late, 'cause of Hazel." Claire said nothing but Paige tapped her fingers together as she thought. "You know, no-one's ever really talked to me about it." She looked at her friend who was listening intently. "My friends at home never wanted to talk much about it. She got counselling and Mum and Dad doted over her, but no-one cared about me." Paige took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes. "I found her, in a pool of blood in the kitchen. I had left my homework on the worktop and went back to get it and she was there, lifeless. I think she hates me for stopping her, from doing it."

Claire said nothing as she thought for a few moments before swallowing and muttering. "I can't imagine she would hate you, surely?"

"Oh I don't know. She just can't get happy. She won't join in anything at all, refuses to go to school half the time and Mum won't let her stay at home alone. It's causing all sorts of fights. She has a CPN, but she's really struggling, and she won't talk to me or anyone. She just shuts herself in our room and can't accept any help." Paige took a gulp of her drink and snorted. "I mean, we used to talk all the time. We share a bedroom, but I can't go in when she is in there and ... well I am her big sister, and she used to bring me all her problems. If it was boys in her class pulling her hair when she was five, or being bullied 'cause she was ginger or whatever, I was there for her. She came to me when she lost her cherry at thirteen and not Mum. But in the last year, she's just isolated herself from everyone. And then tries to end her own life, I mean, how does that make me feel?"

Claire listened as Paige listed her concerns and worries about her younger sister, and offered her a tissue as the red-headed firebrand sobbed. "It's not easy," Claire told her. "But I guess she knows how much you love her by all the effort you make."

"She just thinks I am getting at her, but I'm not. I just want her to smile and be happy, and if she can't do that, talk to me. But I can't get her to do anything," Paige moaned and saw the chubby figure of her brother running up the hill. "Anything would be good. Just any sort of smile, but she won't." She wiped her eyes, but Jeremy pulled up as he reached the steepest part of the incline.

"Mum says ten minutes," he panted as he got within 30 metres of his sister and she acknowledged him with a wave.

"Sure," Paige shouted and turned back to her friend. "You said you lived in South London."

"Yeah," Claire replied. "Little place called Purley, it's..."

"It's in Croydon," Paige finished for her. "I know Purley. I live in Selhurst. It's not the posh end of the town."

Claire chortled. "When will you believe that I am not upper-class. My mum works for someone who is, but we are just a normal family."

"Yeah?" Paige teased. "Four bedroom detached?"

"Three bedroom terraced," Claire replied sanctimoniously, and Paige shrugged.

"We live in a three bedroom flat above a shop." Claire shrugged, and Paige just ran her hands through her red hair. "And I bet during the riots last year they didn't try and set fire to your house."

"No," Claire muttered and Paige packed up the litter from their small picnic into a bag. "But I wouldn't mind meetin' up and just chilling or whatever. Especially as we live so local."

"Yeah," Paige said instantly and two girls swapped numbers and addresses.

* * * * *

"It's all about sex," Greg cried as he stretched out in his leather chair. He reached for his latte and leant back only to find the takeaway cup leaked over his tie when tilted at such an angle.

Andre smiled to himself as his uncle frantically righted himself and then fell off his chair as the scorching hot liquid scolded him through his white shirt. "Pardon?"

"Sex. Life is sex. We need more of it."

Andre looked at the floor and looked at his uncle wiping his shirt with a tissue. "More of it?"

"Yeah, we need more sex. In here. Blow some cobwebs out. Someone to get the pulse racing."

"Right," Andre said with a surprised frown.

"We have a prostitute coming to see us."

Andre squirmed. "Pardon?"

"A whore. A girl who'll screw for cash," Greg said with a glint in his eye. "A lady of the night, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know what a prostitute is. And I know I'm 25, but I am not comfortable with... it. With being with a prostitute."

His uncle scowled. "Hey, it's just business. It's just a professional trade. We're not here to pass judgement. It's just a business transaction, but I think it's what we need!"

"No? Right, well, ummm, well it sounds all very..."

"What?"

"Sordid." Andre sniffed and sighed. "I'm not sure I want to get involved with a... woman like that." His eyes narrowed and he tapped the desk. "I don't think it's right."

Greg snorted. "Pah! The media are always crying out for a call girl to talk dirty on breakfast television. After Belle and Miss S and all that bollocks, prostitution has never been so fashionable."

"Oh, so it's representing a umm... well a lady like that."

"Yes," Greg snapped. "What did you think?" Andre muttered incoherently, and his uncle just snorted. "You said 'think outside the box' and those people you tried to go for didn't end up with a signed contract. It's something a bit different, that's all."

"No," Andre muttered. "But won't that make us pimps?"

Greg shook his head. "Nonsense. I don't get a cut of her daily activity, just her media work. And there will be lots of that, I want to make her into an icon." Andre smiled as his uncle gestured with his hands and he scratched his head. "I want more sex in our new clients. So when you go lookin', look for sex. Right?"

"Sex?"

"Yeah, front cover of FHM material. I want sex, nudity, whoring, filth. You got that?"

"Right," Andre muttered.

"I mean it, I want sex. The British love sex and if there is anything that will get us clients it's filth. Pure filth. Remember that!"

* * * * *

Claire wiped her hands on the dirty towel she had by her side and looked over the flowerbed. The gardener was to her right, still planting little seedlings on a different bank of flowers as she spoke. "Sam, does this bed need any more?"

The elderly man stumbled to his feet and groaned as his joints creaked. "No," he muttered and flashed a smile to his temporary assistant. "Any more and it'll be too crowded."

Claire swung her legs around her body and came to sit next to the aged man. "I'll help you with this last bed, then," Claire promised and picked up her hand trowel.

She had spent all day helping the good-natured gardener plant over a thousand seedlings in the flowerbeds around the swimming pool and in the garden of the five bedroom mansion. Claire had helped the experienced man before with his "big projects" and was always keen to earn a little money when work was offered.

Her mother – the house manager and cleaner – walked up to her as they started on the last flowerbed. "I've got to nip to the shops and see Beryl. You done in two hours?"

"Yeah, Teri. We'll be done," Sam promised. He coughed and nursed his knees. "We'll prob'ly be done in an hour."

"Call me when you're finished," Teri demanded. "And I'll swing by. Or else I'll come back and wait for you in the road when I've done all my jobs!"

"OK," Claire muttered. "Can you get me some orange juice please? With the bits in. I want a drinky later," she asked. Her mother smiled, and Claire returned to her flowerbed.

It took a further 45 minutes to plant all the flowers in the right pattern and then a further 15 minutes to water them and pack their gardening tools away in the small shed. Claire looked towards the house; the family had always been particularly keen for their staff not to "linger" and if she had finished work she was expected to leave the premises, but her mother wouldn't be back for another hour, and Claire swore when she realised she had left her mobile phone in the family car.

She hovered at the end of the garden as Sam locked his shed and thanked her for her help. "We'll call it three-thirty," Sam told her adding 20 minutes to the time. "I'll get Paul to sort out the cheque when I see him tomorrow. He'll give it to your mother."

"Cheers," Claire muttered and watched as he ambled across the garden to deposit the keys in the kitchen. She wiped her hands on her old clothes and walked towards the garden gate.

"Boo!" A voice cried as she ambled down the garden, looking at the new flowerbeds and giant plants that were dotted around the back of the house; it was beautiful, but she also knew how much it cost the family to maintain.

Claire flinched and saw the smiling face of the eldest child looking at her from the other side of a bush. "You scared the life out of me," she moaned, and Jack held up a book.

"Just doing revision. It's a nice spot, look." Claire looked around the bush to see a sheltered patch of grass, and smiled.

"Lovely," she told him, not quite sure what to say but the young man smiled back at her with a cheeky expression.

"Claire, isn't it?"

"Yes, how do you know?"

"I have spoken to you before, don't you remember?"

He looked a little hurt at the suggestion that Claire might not and she licked her lips. "Yes," she lied. "But I didn't think you would remember my name." He rubbed his nose as she frantically tried to recall his name. "You doing anything other than revision, James?"

"Jack," he said a little coldly and shrugged. "Mum and Dad are out, sister's gone to the Med with her friends; thought I might take a swim."

"Well I need to get cleaned up and then I'm..."

"You could join me in the pool if you want," he offered. "I know your Mum's not back for another hour unless you ring her. But you haven't."

"How?"

"I can hear," he said in an annoyed tone. "I've heard everything that's gone on in the garden. So, come join me in the pool."

Claire hummed. "I haven't got a swimming costume. Or a towel."

"I could lend you one," Jack offered. "The towel I mean. And people do swim without a costume on. I mean, they do it on the continent I've heard, so... I'll take that look as a 'no' then."

"No," she told him. "I don't think your parents would be too impressed if I started stripping in your garden." Jack's eyes narrowed, and he bit his lip.

"OK. Well I just wanted a break that's all," he moaned. "I've been at the revision since nine and just need to stop for an hour." He looked at Claire averting her eyes, and offered her an "ice-cold drink" that she tentatively accepted. "Take a seat," he offered, gesturing towards the patch of grass he had made his own for the day.

Claire laughed when he brought out a jug of fruit-laden brown liquid and two glasses, pouring his female friend a drink that had almost as much fruit as liquid in it. "Wow! Is this... actually what is this?"

"Pimms and Lemonade," Jack told her, and she coughed when she took a mouthful. "Is there too much fruit?"

"There's too much Pimms," she replied, and he shrugged. "Is this all Pimms?"

"I've not made it before, normally it's made for us. I did put the whole bottle in, is that right? We got loads of bottles, I don't know!"

Claire took another gulp, the cold liquid was heavenly in her dry throat, but it was exceedingly alcoholic and she blinked as she adjusted to it. "I guess a bit less next time," she replied and settled herself on the lawn next to Jack. As much as she was keen not to drink too much, the "cocktail" that Jack had provided was moreish, and she was thirsty.

He talked, and Claire listened; Claire soon realised that he was in need of a confidante and she allowed him to talk about his break-up months previous and how that was still making him feel, as well as the offer his father had made about him joining the family firm. He talked passionately about his rugby, and then about his music with Claire proudly announcing that she won a karaoke contest on her short holiday.

"Do you want some more?" Jack offered as he held up the empty jug, but Claire shook her head; she was already fairly tipsy and knew that her mother must be coming back to the house soon. "Yes?"

"No."

"Does that pool look more tempting now you've had a drink and a rest?"

"That pool does look nice," Claire admitted. "But I am not swimming naked, no matter how hard you try and get me to take my clothes off." He sniffed. "But go ahead and swim, I'm not stopping you."

Jack sighed and took the empty glasses back to the kitchen, before returning with two towels and a set of swimming trunks. Claire averted her eyes as he changed behind the bush, although she appreciated his toned torso as they walked down the garden to the thirty-foot pool to sit by the side of the water.

Jack splashed her, and she flicked water back at him. "It's lovely and refreshing," he boasted, and she groaned. She swayed slightly and burped; the Pimms and Lemonade had been strong, and she had drunk it too quickly. "It's..." Jack dived under the water and swam along the bottom of the pool before resurfacing. He looked at her with pleading eyes and she groaned.

"I am not being naked and you staying clothed," she replied. "It would be... improper." Jack's eyes twinkled and he "solved the problem" by removing his swimming trunks and throwing them at Claire. Claire caught the wet swimwear and held them up. "You must be drunk to be flashing a virtual stranger," she teased and licked her lips. "Maybe I should walk away from the pool now." His eyes widened, and she scratched her head.

"I'd rather you joined me," he begged and blew her a kiss with a cheeky grin. "I'll not look!"

Claire shook her head. "I must have had too many," she moaned. Claire pulled the top of her T-shirt over her head and told Jack to turn around so he couldn't see her, which he reluctantly did. Claire unclipped her pink bra and unbuttoned her jeans when she heard a cry and spun around to see the immaculately-dressed figure of Anne Rees-Montague striding across her lawn. The snarling woman removed her sunglasses and glared at the naked Jack and topless Claire.

"What are you doing near my pool?" She thundered as Claire put her hands over her breasts. "Get dressed, little girl," she ordered and flicked her hand towards the embarrassed young lady, who frantically re-attired herself. "And you," she spat at her son. "I think you can do a little better than the cleaner's daughter."

Claire's cheeks burned. "We weren't," she started and passed Jack his swimming trunks. "We..."

"I know exactly what you were doing, trying to get your claws into my son. He's too good for you, now, scram!"

A bemused Claire looked at the woman before running towards the front of the house; she felt like a naughty school kid.

* * * * *

"Andre," the suited gentleman said and held out his hand to shake the fingers of the leather-clad woman. She snorted and sat back on her "seat": a gentleman kneeling down on all fours and she put her feet on another. He hesitated as she took a long draw of her cigarette and tapped her stick of tobacco into an ashtray held by another naked man. "We spoke on the 'phone."

"Yeah," she muttered and eyed the man hovering a few feet away. "Pull up a chair." Andre looked around the room, to see some sort of seat, and the "Mistress of Hades" clicked her fingers. The young gentleman put the ashtray down and knelt on all fours in front of Andre.

Andre squeaked; this was not what he expected, and he saw the whip marks and scars on the body of the man on the floor. "I'm fine," he muttered.

"Suit ya self," she snapped and coughed. "So... what do you want?"

"I'm here to introduce myself, and my employer to you. I work for Incredible Talents and we are interested in representing you."

"Representing me?" The dominatrix snorted and dug her heels into the kneeling man by her feet. "Why the hell do I want a bloody manager?" She blew smoke at him and Andre shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Ahh yeah, so I can give them half my profits to you for doing sod all."

"We take eight percent, but that is negotiable and..."

She cackled and rubbed her nose. "So what do I get?"

"Well, we are always keen to help you break new markets. I see the great potential for a brand here and think that your red, dripping blood M symbol could be licensed for all sorts of merchandise."

She grunted and stubbed her cigarette out on the buttocks of her "seat" causing him to yell. "Sounds flash, but... I don't do business with men," she warned him. "Well not like that. 'Cause what happens if you don't deliver?" Her eyes narrowed.

"We don't get paid."

She clenched her fists and took a bottle of beer from the floor. "Nah," she cried as she used a bottle opener attached to her leather bustier. "Nah, 'cause ya sod off havin' messed my name up. Nah. If you mess up I want a week of you in my dungeon," she said with a laugh.

Andre looked at her. "Well that's not how it works" he said anxiously. "But we can agree a number of..."

"Nah, we can't," she replied. "Ya mess up, I put you in my show." He gulped, and she smiled. "Ya saw my show?"

He nodded; the extreme bondage and humiliation the Mistress of Hades subjected her "assistants" to was unreal, although the mixed audience lapped up the violent episodes, as well as the classic punk tunes her off-key voice murdered, in her three hour "extravaganza."

She pointed towards the corner of the room where a car battery was on its side with two long wires coming out of it. "I got a routine just for you. Electro-balls. To go with that electric suit you're wearing," she said with her lips curling.

Andre simpered. "Can I leave you a sample contract and some ideas we've had. We'd been keen to meet and discuss, in our office maybe." He took a small bundle of papers from his bag and passed them over to her, but she didn't take them. "I'll leave them on the table," he told her and then put them on the back of the man near his feet.

"You going to be in my show if you screw up?" The woman asked as she got up and Andre shook his hand.

"Sorry that's not how it works."

"Well this is how I work," the extreme Mistress of Hades replied and put one foot over the man on his knees a couple of feet from Andre. She snarled at the agent, and maintained eye contact as she released a stream of urine from her bladder onto the contract and the man at her feet. "Yeah, now do one," he was told as her flow of wee stopped, and a relieved Andre made a hasty exit.

It was one client he was suddenly very glad he didn't have, no matter how keen his uncle was on her and her "potential earning ability."
  6. # Chapter V

Jack entered the lounge and inwardly groaned when he saw the faces of his mother and father sitting opposite each other with furrowed brows. He had been summoned aggressively from his bedroom and knew what they wanted to talk to him about.

"Sit down," his father barked and pointed at a chair opposite. He scratched his head and rubbed his eyes, putting his newspaper onto the floor beside him. "What's this I hear about you and some scrubber?"

Jack sighed. "Nothing," he said firmly. "Just... nothing."

"It didn't look like nothing," his mother interrupted. "He was naked, and she was getting naked. And to think he was letting her swim in our pool."

The imposing figure of Paul Rees-Montague clicked his fingers and his wife stopped immediately. "Listen son, I know that Ellie girl hit you hard, but you have to realise that there are some pretty nasty, scheming lowlife out there, and they see what we have and they want some of it. And you will get girls throwing themselves at you. And it's nice, trust me, it feels good. Just remember that they don't like you, they want you for our money and our status."

"Claire doesn't. She..."

"She is the daughter of our cleaner," he interrupted and laughed. "I mean, she probably doesn't have much of a future. She spent all day planting flowers, so I really don't think she's appropriate for you."

"She's really nice and..."

"Listen. She might be nice, but you and her are from different worlds. She'll probably try and entice you into sex, tell you that she's on the pill, let you get her pregnant, and you'll never hear the end of it. So, don't think about her and just try and find some suitable ladies. And if you want cheap tarts for the afternoon, pay for a prossie."

Jack gulped and clenched his fists. "It's not what you think. She doesn't want..."

"You are being so naïve," his father told him condescendingly and tutted. "I was there once. And it took my father to point it out to me. She will be after..."

"Will you just listen?" Jack shouted and stunned his father into silence. "I did my revision, and as she finished planting the flowers I asked her if she wanted a drink as I wanted a break. While she was waiting for her mother to pick her up we talked, and it was nice. And relaxing. She listened, and was like a friend, and that was it. And then I tried to get her into the pool because I wanted to swim. She was going to be naked as she didn't bring her costume. She is not my type, and I am not her's. She is not interested in me, except for having someone to talk to for an hour. That's it. There is no attempt at getting pregnant or trying to seduce me or anything else. That was it, sixty minutes of chat. And as for the future, she is looking to go to Uni as well."

"Not Cambridge though," his father interrupted. "And so she hasn't got to try to get you into bed, but it'll come. That type always try it. It's lucky that we caught her before..."

Jack groaned and threw his hands up in the air. "Just... no!" He rubbed his brow. "OK, I probably won't see her again," he told them. "But I promise I will not try and get to see her naked if I do. OK?"

Paul tapped the side of the chair and muttered. "You have a lot to learn," he told him. "A lot to learn." Jack didn't respond but just frowned at his concerned parents before shaking his head and leaving the room.

* * * * *

Paige swore at her phone. "Out of bloody credit. I only put a tenner in you three days ago, how the hell can you chew through ten pounds when I don't bloody use you? Who are you calling in my bag?" The phone didn't respond other than beep when she tried to make a call and Paige threw her arms up in despair. "Bloody thing."

"Errr... hello." Paige looked up to see Claire standing in front of her.

"Hi," Paige cried. "I got the tickets. I was going to ring you, but my phone said no credit and I know there should be credit in there. I don't know where it disappears to." Paige held her hands out in front of her and looked expectantly at her friend. "I'm sure it's gremlins."

"Yeah, mine does that too," Claire said with a grin and pulled Paige up from the bench with her outstretched hand. "Lazy."

"I've been up since six," Paige moaned.

"Paper round?"

"No, Hazel crying." Paige shrugged. "She does that a lot, but she won't talk. Not to me, not to Mum, not to her nurse. Just sobbing away like a baby."

"You didn't want to bring her?" Claire asked, and Paige shook her head.

"No. Krystal was going to come, but she's been called in to work. Her manager was ill. Or as Krystal says, his wife is away and he wants to go screw his mistress, but I think she's just jealous. So it's just us two." Paige smiled as she passed Claire her ticket and the girl instantly fished around for her purse. "You buy the drinks afterwards and we are quits," Paige offered.

"Thanks," Claire muttered, but Paige snorted.

"Wait 'til you see the drinks prices before you thank me!"

The romantic drama was not to Paige's taste, but Claire had been keen to see the film, and the red-haired firebrand had missed her naturist friend in the two weeks since she had left the camp site, so readily agreed to meet up to see anything with her.

After the cinema, the two girls walked across the High Street and walked towards the station before stopping at a small bar near the main road. Claire bought both of them large glasses of wine and they sat down to talk.

"That was a bit of a crap film," Paige moaned as she took a sip and Claire hummed.

"It wasn't that bad, but I don't think it was as good as the hype," she replied and pushed her shoulders back to allow her coat to fall off her body and land on the padded leather bench she was sitting on. "So, apart from Hazel, what's been going on?"

"Nothing much. Every time I want to do something, Hazel stops me. It's a pain sharing bedrooms," Paige moaned. "That karaoke competition on holiday really awakened something inside of me so I tried singing last night; I have an old karaoke machine from when the pub down the road closed down but she just wouldn't let me."

"You bought a karaoke machine from 'em. That's quite enterprising!"

"No. I broke in and nicked it after closing night," Paige said without a trace of irony in her voice. "Well the brewery didn't want it any more, they were knocking the place down." Claire pursed her lips and looked away, but Paige didn't notice the disapproval of her friend. "I just can't use it any more when she's around. Hazel kicks off. And I write the odd song. I've got a few I've written and it has a mike and amp, and an output that I can stick into a laptop, so I've tried recording my voice and putting instruments over the top, but I can't do it in the flat. Kitchen's no good, Lounge always has the telly on, so only leaves my room and that's got Hazel in it. So I've just got nowhere at the moment. It's doing my head in! I really want to make music again and can't."

Claire laughed. "I know someone with the opposite problem. A recording studio above their garage and no desire to use it." Paige's eyes widened, and Claire recounted the visit to Jack's house a few days previous and Paige giggled at the story. "He's just so spoilt, really."

"I hate people like that," Paige moaned. "I mean, they will have telly rooms and pools bigger than my bedroom and all sorts. It's just sick."

"He's nice," Claire replied. "But his parents are just... well they aren't from this planet. To think I was trying to seduce their son. Agghhh!"

Paige giggled, and Claire smiled. "You know, I'd love a go on a karaoke machine again. We don't have one, and it'll be good to do it again. We won the competition and that afternoon where we entertained everyone was great. I mean, I know it was raining so they had nothing else to do, but it was fun."

"It was wicked!" Paige gushed with a smile. "Hazel is away next week, she is off on a school field trip with an overnight stay or something. If Mum lets her go, so we could use it on Wednesday," Paige suggested, and Claire nodded, excitedly.

"Yeah. Whereabouts do you live?"

"Selhurst," Paige said instantly. "In the High Street. Above the pound shop." Claire giggled and Paige nodded. "Yeah I know. Real classy!"

* * * * *

"Wow!" Claire said the moment she entered the small bedroom. Although the room was cramped with a bunk bed to her right and posters of pop stars and film celebrities on the wardrobe door, there was a big karaoke machine taking pride of place in the corner of the bedroom. "How did you get that from the pub?"

"I wheeled it on a supermarket trolley," the girl told her proudly. "I had seen it and wanted it when we were in the pub for a birthday party. Someone my Dad knows turned sixty or something, but the moment the posters went up to say the place was shutting, I just had to go and get it. It'd only've gone to the tip." Claire listened, and Paige snorted. "I met two guys with knives as I left. They scared the hell out of me, but they just went in to try and get some booze. Didn't give a monkeys 'bout the karaoke machine."

"Did they find any?"

"What? You think I stayed to find out?" Claire giggled, and Paige pulled a laptop out of the cupboard and set it up on the floor. The fan strained and whined as it booted up; it was old, but once it had loaded, the hostess set up the output from the karaoke machine to go into the laptop and passed Claire a chunky microphone. "What shall we start with?"

The folder containing the CDs was huge and Claire started leafing through them. She selected Katy Perry's Teenage Dream; it was one of the few disks containing songs from the past eighteen months, but despite Paige's selection of disks leanings towards older music, Claire was still in awe at the choice open to her.

Claire and Paige sang well, but when they replayed the recording, their voices were "clipping" and Paige had to turn a few buttons. They tried again, and although they sounded OK on the recording, there was crackling and interference coming from the laptop.

Claire didn't care and just enjoyed spending time with Paige who, after messing up three songs in succession apologised to her friend and removed her trousers, shirt and underwear. "I can't sing with clothes on," she told her friend. "It's not right. I always do it naked. It's why I froze on the school talent night."

Claire giggled, and Paige told her to try singing without any clothes on. Claire hesitated, the last time she started getting undressed at someone's house she was accused by the parents of trying to seduce their offspring. She had no intention of seducing Paige, but had no idea what her friend's parents would say if they came in!

"It's much better," Paige promised her and to prove a point selected Sinead O'Connor on the karaoke machine, before singing it pitch-perfect. Claire was spellbound at her talented friend's voice as her hairs on her arm stood up.

"You should record some of this," she told her. "I mean properly. I play the electric guitar. If we could get someone on the keyboard, your vocals are just incredible." Paige blushed so that her cheeks matched her hair.

"Well it's just to chill. I'm not that good."

"You are, I know it's just an escape. But... wow!"

"You could sing just as well, you just need to strip off. Try it," Paige encouraged her with a grin and Claire relented. She gently folded her clothes and put them on the bottom bunk before attempting Whitney Houston's signature ballad. She cringed when it was played back to her, and Paige smiled. "Better at Pop and Rock?" She teased, and Claire nodded.

"But I get it, it's good to sing naked." She closed her eyes for a moment and hummed. "You know, I wonder if we could get access to a recording studio you could do something and put it on iTunes or something."

"We could do stuff together," Paige suggested. "I dunno. I don't think I'm that good to get onto iTunes."

"You are," Claire replied. "Really good. But there's only one way to find out." Claire's eyes sparkled excitedly. "I've not felt like this before, we should. We should definitely do something. We could be the Undressed Couple or something."

Paige burst out laughing, and Claire shrugged. They heard a door close behind them, and Paige looked up at her bedroom door, as it slowly opened. "Are you in for tea?" Her mother asked her naked daughter, and Paige nodded.

"Yeah, please."

"And... Claire isn't it?"

Claire hummed and nodded. "Yeah."

"I remember you from the camp. Do you want a bite to eat? It's only Pizza."

"Thanks," Claire muttered and the door closed. "Now why can't Jack's mother have done that?"

"Because my parents are not upper class twats," Paige spat and picked up the microphone. "Go on, your choice. Which one?"

Claire scanned the list and looked up. "If I can get us access to Jack's recording studio, will you make a demo tape. The recording studios should wet themselves with your vocals."

"Yeah, wet themselves laughing," Paige joked and shook her head, but Claire was serious.

"I mean it," Claire asked. "Would you?"

"I guess," Paige replied. "But I really don't think I'm that good."
  7. # Chapter VI

"And poof," the weird-looking gentleman cried. "Not the only poof in here, is it?" A wisp of smoke appeared from an upturned hat, and the "magician" extracted a Rampant Rabbit dildo from it. "The Rabbit from the hat trick!"

Andre laughed; he had enjoyed the magic show, despite being slightly uncomfortable that the male magician was dressed in a latex bustier, fishnet stockings and outrageously neon make-up. His adult-themed show was designed for his gay patrons, and he delivered it well.

The young agent had felt decidedly uneasy at first; most of the audience fit a stereotype and he reasoned he was the only heterosexual in the room, although the barmaid was happy to flirt with him, partly because she probably presumed he was "that way inclined."

Andre fidgeted and was anxious, but as the show progressed and the alcohol entered his system he felt more at ease with himself. He was still not sure about signing "Pedro, the world's best magic bender," but his uncle had been firm. "Go down there and get him to come back to the office if he's any good."

Andre wasn't sure if he was "any good" as far as his uncle would think, but his adult shows were popular in certain communities and the lure of a popular client had enticed Andre to pay entry to a gay club and watch the explicit show.

Pedro was certainly keen to exploit his exhibitionist streak and his clothing was soon on a crumbled heap on the floor. His audience howled with laughter as he found all four queens in a pack of cards before suggesting "they weren't the only queens in the room!"

As the show finished, Andre moved towards the dressing room. He was stopped from entering by a burly security guard who was unmoved by Andre's claims to have an appointment with the scandalous entertainer. Andre rang Pedro on the mobile number he had been given, so he could be retrieved from the bouncer who was running out of patience with Andre's desperate pleading.

Pedro thought nothing of walking naked through the corridor to his dressing room, and Andre closed the door to give them some privacy. Smoke hung in the small room, and gay pornography blared on the television behind the middle-aged man. He refused to shake Andre's hand with a snort. "No idea where your 'ands been."

Andre gave a weak smile and adjusted his suit. "I'm Andre Wilson, executive at Incredible Talents, and we like what we see. Ummm... we are asking, would you consider having us as your agent?"

The middle-aged man leant back on the chair, idling playing with his manhood while he spoke and stretched. "So, what's the deal? You get me bookings, and I give you 25%?"

"Err... not quite. We use our contacts throughout all industries to promote you, your work, your brand to increase recognition and maximise exposure to increase revenue and fully exploit your talents. And we take around 8%, not 25." The entertainer grunted, and Andre pulled out a small wad of papers. "This is the sample contract, and this is my suggestion of what we do with you. I suggest a DVD to begin with and a promotional tour. Now..."

Pedro snorted and idly picked up the papers, flicking through them and looking back at the shifting feet of Andre. "Trouble is, I know your kind. Ya sign loads of people up do sod all for 'em and still want ya cut at the end. Ya on a commission if ya sign me up?"

"Err... no." Andre stammered and squinted at the magician. "Not at all. I came here to speak to you as agreed on the 'phone. And we will work hard for you, like we do for everyone."

Pedro sniffed. "Ya gay?" Andre shook his head, and Pedro chuckled. "Ya came to a gay club to watch me?"

"Yes, in short. I came here today to watch you. And it was a good act. I liked it, and it made me laugh, so I want to work with you."

Pedro scratched his ear. "My mate got an agent after he was on telly and all that bastard did was leach off him. And then sued him. Near-on lost 'is 'ouse did he." Pedro gulped and took a sip of his beer. "So, how do I know..."

"We aren't like that," Andre promised.

"How do I know that ya ain't gonna flake out on me? There's one way." He pushed himself into the chair and moved his legs further apart. "Ya get ya straight arse over here and you put your lips around my little friend," he said with a grin. "And I'm gonna film it on my phone. And if you try any of your little games, it goes public."

Andre gulped. "Pardon?"

"Give me a blow job?" Pedro demanded and Andre put his hands in front of him, pushing the air.

"No. Umm... no, I-I-I-I don't do that and..."

"So you won't do anything for me?" Pedro asked. "'Cause I want your lips around my little man. Am I gonna get it?"

Andre shook his head and backed out through the door. For a moment, the idea was almost palatable; he had not managed to secure any new clients and his uncle was getting restless with him, but it was too far. "Sorry," he muttered and fled the room as Pedro cackled behind him.

* * * * *

"It's you," Jack muttered as a familiar face ran to catch up with him as he left his exclusive college. "How did you know where to find me?"

"I know," Claire said cryptically and then smiled. "OK, you told me where you went to college, and you said you finished at lunchtime on Mondays."

"You're not stalking me, are you?" Jack moaned. "'Cause my parents reckon you are trying to seduce me and want to... yeah, well, you can't blame me for asking, can you?" Jack looked at Claire as her giggling turned to scowling.

"No. I am not stalking you. And I don't want to seduce you. In fact, the opposite."

"Oh cheers," Jack moaned, and Claire crossed her arms.

"I want to ask a favour," she begged. "Can I see your recording studio?"

"Why? I've not been in it for four months. It's probably really musty and 'orrible."

Claire sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "OK, cards on the table. I have a friend who has an awesome voice. And I would love to get some of the singing on tape to send to some record companies. And they have some songs written, and I want to try and get 'em to record a couple 'cause they're better than all the X Factor crap or manufactured bands and stuff. I just want to give 'em a chance to get something quite special down onto tape. And we haven't got a studio and... that's it."

"So, why do you want to use mine? There are loads all over London that have the latest kit in them!"

"And they cost money," Claire replied. "And lots of it. I know you don't use yours, and you have lots of time without your folks, and I only want to borrow it. I can give you something, but not much." Jack sighed. "I just need to see what you've got and start to think about things and then get 'em down for a day or two when it's ready. What d'ya say?"

Jack sighed. "My parents would go bananas," he told her. "And my Aunt is staying with us at the moment. She's getting divorced."

"Oh I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's OK. It's number twelve, she's used to it by now. Her weddings are a bi-annual event. I've been to seven or eight."

"I bet she eats a lot of toast," Claire joked, but the flippant comment was lost on Jack, and she returned to her pleading. "So is it at all possible?"

"Yeah. But only when my parents are out. Now there is a fundraising dinner on Saturday evening for some politician that my Dad's friend gets involved with. They are out all Saturday evening. Why don't you come 'round then and I'll show you."

Claire smiled and put her arms around him, cuddling him excitedly. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear. "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome," Jack replied with a smile.

* * * * *

"Hi," Paige muttered as her sister stormed into the room and she leant over the top bunk. "I was thinking, I know you always like sleeping on the top bunk if we have them on holiday, and I've had it at home for five years, so do you want to swap?"

"You wet the mattress then?"

Paige scowled. "No! I just thought..."

"You just thought I might not try and top myself if I have the top bunk."

"I didn't say that," Paige told her defensively.

"Why is everyone treating me like a child? I 'ate it and..."

"'Cause you won't talk to anyone," Paige screamed. "And when you do, it's angry grunts, and you barely say a word. What are we supposed to do? You snap at everyone, it's like walking on eggshells with you."

Hazel's eyes bored into her sister. "Then don't talk to me."

Paige swung her legs over the side of the bed and descended the ladder. "You are my sister," she replied and grabbed her taller sibling by the tops of her arms, shaking her aggressively. "I found you unconscious in a pool of blood."

"And if I'd died you'd have the room to yourself," Hazel spat back. "You'd love that."

A tear rolled down Paige's cheek, and she gestured wildly at her sister. "I found you in a pool of blood. I had three minutes of waiting for an ambulance when I thought you were dead. How do you think I felt?" Hazel didn't respond, and Paige shook her again. "Eh? I've had nightmares that I really will find you dead one day, and you don't care. You think we don't love you, but I was in pieces that night. I've never cried so hard, and I spent all night at your bed side at the hospital. I wouldn't leave you and..."

"I didn't ask you too," Hazel muttered. "I never wanted..."

"It's what sisters do," Paige shouted. "'Cause long after Mum and Dad die, we'll still be here with Jeremy. And I know you don't believe me, but I love you. I love you more than anyone else in the world because as long as I can remember, there's been you in my room, playing with my toys and at my school. I helped you with your homework, I helped you with puberty and boys and everything. Even your make-up when you went on your first date or when you were being bullied, it was me that beat 'em up to put a stop to it." Hazel sniffed back a tear and stared at the floor. "So when you have a problem you won't talk about, that is so bad you can't face life, it hurts when you won't talk to me."

"There's nothing to tell," Hazel muttered and shrugged. The naked Paige stared into her sister's eyes, and she blinked. "Really, there's nothing to tell."

Paige gulped and held out her arms to embrace her sister, holding her tightly and sniffing back the tears. It was the first cuddle they had shared since the troubled girl had left hospital four months previously and as far as Paige was concerned, it was a massive step in the right direction.

* * * * *

Claire crept up the front drive of the house and swore when she saw the executive saloon of her friend's father parked outside their front door; if she was spotted at the house in her waitressing uniform, then she was in trouble!

Claire looked to her left and right; there were impeccably manicured bushes and plants, but she had no option and dived to her left, over the bush and landed on something prickly.

She could still be seen, and showed up very well in her white uniform, so the young lady crept behind the back of a giant plant, swearing when she caught the spines on her hand in the twilight. The voices of Paul and Anne carried in the night as the man of the household moaned vociferously about the time it took his wife to get ready.

A couple of minutes later, the car swept out of the drive aggressively, and Claire waited for a few moments, just to make sure that Jack's parents did not return having forgotten something and see her striding towards their house. They didn't return, and after a minute of painful waiting, Claire tentatively got out of the bush and walked towards the house.

She could feel her heart beating and she felt as though she was doing something exceedingly naughty, but there was no shouting or screaming and the girl calmly knocked stoutly on the door.

She waited for an answer or for Jack to appear, but there was no response until she knocked again. "I'm comin'," a female voice shouted and Claire swore again, and sprinted back towards the bushes and dived into the prickly plant again. Neither Jack nor her had considered that anyone else would be home and Claire winced as she tried to remove two thorns from the back of her hand in the semi-darkness.

She watched as the dainty frame of Harriet Rees-Montague came to the door and shouted into the night, "hello?" The girl looked around the drive before cursing Claire under her breath and slamming the door.

Claire had a problem; she did not know Jack's mobile number and had no way of getting a message to him that she was waiting in his driveway under a bush. He told her to come to the house on Saturday evening, but they had not agreed at what time that meant, or how to meet.

She thought for a moment and then sat down, squinting at the windows to spy him moving through a room, but there was nothing. "Claire," a voice whispered. "Claire. I know it was you, Claire?"

The black-haired girl got to her feet and peered over the bush to see her friend at the other end of the drive, calling softly into the wind and scrambled out of the undergrowth. "Jack," she replied and ran softly towards him.

"Why didn't you just ring?"

"Because I haven't got your number," she moaned, and he just grunted.

"It's this way."

"Won't we need to go around Harriet?"

"Nah," he said instantly and walked down the drive until he was alongside the separate garage, away from the main house. A wrought iron staircase between the perimeter of the property and the giant double garage led to a flat above the garage, and he smiled at her. "It's well away from Harriet!"

"Wow!" Claire muttered as they climbed the steps and he unlocked the front door. "It's like a separate house."

"It was a granny annexe I believe," Jack explained. "But it never got used at all and for my fourteenth birthday, my parents kitted it out for me as a den, and then for my fifteenth, they put a recording studio in the big bedroom."

"It's two bedroom," Claire muttered as he unlocked and opened the front door and they stepped into a narrow corridor. They both coughed as they entered the flat and he pushed open the door to his left.

"It's been sound-proofed," he boasted. "And treated to stop echo, acoustics aren't bad. We got a big computer, an interface," he said pointing at some dusty equipment in the corner of the room. "Filters, amps, speakers, headphones in here," he told her and opened a drawer containing four expensive headphones and two microphones. "Oh and I've got a keyboard around here – well two actually. One MIDI one for the computer and another to play. There's some drums, electric guitar in the other room for storage and..."

"Wow! Seriously, this is amazing. And you'd let me borrow it for a day. Tops."

He sighed and pulled down two posters from the wall. She noticed his face was printed along with two other people, above lettering that read "Element of Surprise." She gulped and she stopped him taking down the third. "Ellie?"

"Yeah," he said quietly and she looked at the poster.

"And you stopped coming in here, 'cause of her."

"I got this setup 'cause of her," he responded fiercely as he took a few deep breaths. "It's bringing back bad memories," he snarled. "I just hate this place now."

"But... can't you just move on?" Claire asked cheerfully and insensitively.

"She was..." Jack gulped and looked back at the poster in front of Claire before ripping it from the wall and thrusting it aggressively in front of the teenage girl. "I found her screwing my best friend and band mate," he yelled, pointing at the two faces on the poster. "And I loved her. How can I just move on from that?" He ripped the paper into several pieces and threw them on the floor, before storming out of the room.

Claire flinched as he left and sighed. She stooped down to the floor, picked up the pieces and walked into the small reception room – also containing pictures of their old band, and he watched as she calmly took them down. "I'm sorry," she told him as joined him on a small couch. "Really I am." He didn't respond, and Claire spoke to break the silence. "I didn't know."

"No," he murmured, deep in thought. "I knew coming back in here would be pretty awful, but I had no idea. We went out for four years." He wiped his eyes and stared at the floor. "And we were in this band, great vocals she had. And we would spend hours just singing and recording. Best friend on the guitar and we sent demo tapes to some recording studios. We got a bit of interest as well. Doing well. Couple of gigs at local pubs. I know Dad wasn't happy about it, but, we did it. Won school talent competition. Getting real close to her. She'd always said she wanted to wait until we got married before sex and I was fine with that, but we used to spend hours cuddling and talking. And then on her eighteenth I proposed, and she said 'no.' She said she wanted to split up not get engaged, and it just broke me. I spent the night wandering the streets and came home and wrote two songs. I went to her house that Saturday night and serenaded her with the music I wrote to try and win her back and my best friend comes out, half-naked with her and she tells me that they have been screwing for a year and just tells me to move on."

"Crap," Claire muttered, and Jack sniffed.

"I've never had a worst weekend. And this place, I was here so much with her. Our first kiss was here. Our first song together was there, our first everything was in these four walls."

"Then maybe you should reclaim it," Claire suggested. "Maybe, clean it up and make music again with someone else and banish the painful memories. 'Cause if you start having happy times here again, you won't have it reminding you of her, will you?"

He snorted, and Claire squeezed his hand causing him to smile. "I am not sure I can make music at the moment. It's just too fresh."

"My friend has troubles too," Claire told him in a calm, soothing voice. "I think you two will get on. She's quite a livewire and is very confident. Look, Jack, we don't have to clean this up for me to use, if it's too painful. If you want me to leave and..."

"No," Jack interrupted. "You're right. I can't feel sorry for myself forever."

"No," Claire muttered. She bowed her head and glanced around the room. "And if music used to make you happy, perhaps cleaning it could mean a new start," she chirped optimistically. "I mean, if it made you happy once then you could find other people to do it with. And then you'll forget about her. Surely?"

Jack sighed. "I don't think it's that easy."

"You should try," Claire asserted and licked her lips. "No harm in trying is there?"

Jack snorted. "Maybe," he begrudgingly admitted.

"But first, this place needs a really good clean! Are there any dusters in here?" She opened the door to the toilet and gagged; the water had dried up and the smell from the sewer had punctuated the air. She flushed it immediately and turned to her friend. "If I give you a list of everything I need, cleaning product-wise, would you know where to find them in the house? I'll clean it as a thank you for letting me use it, but I would like to start tonight, if you don't mind. You know where stuff is kept?"

"Yeah," Jack promised and then shrugged. "Well maybe."

"I need polish, duster, cleaning spray, cloth, vacuum cleaner, air freshener..."

"Can you write this down?" Jack asked with a smile. "I'll only forget."

"Sure," Claire said with a smile.

"And I know we've got a bottle of Pimms in the cupboard. I'll bring that too," he added with a grin. "All this talk about exes, I think I need a drink!"
  8. # Chapter VII

"What's this?" Claire asked as she straightened the mixing desk and Jack passed her a silver metal object.

"It's a key," he said with a grin, stating the obvious.

"Yes I can see that," she replied. "I am not blind. What's it for?"

Jack hesitated. "It's a front door key. A key to this place."

"Why do I need that?"

He shrugged. "Well, when your friend is here, you won't want me around and, well, you can come and go. If you leave it in the plant pots at the bottom of the steps, I'll pick it up when you've finished. Just send me a text."

"Oh," Claire muttered in a disappointed voice. "I kind of wanted you here to work the bloody knobs and buttons. I can't do this stuff. What do you think I am, a bloody DJ?" He smiled, and she stepped back. "If you want to, that is. You sort of sounded like you wanted to earlier."

"Sure," he agreed and looked around the spotless room.

"Was it ever this clean?"

"It never smelt of peach," he teased the buxom girl as he gently nodded. Posters of his band had been replaced with photographs of musical instruments that Claire had purchased from the market, as well as an LP that she had spray-painted gold and fixed to a frame. It looked smart and semi-professional, and the charming girl squeezed his hand; it had taken her three evenings, but they both agreed it looked fantastic.

"Is it right for banishing memories?" She asked with a playful smile that caused Jack to grimace and then reluctantly concede that it was possible he could forget Ellie. "OK, when is best for Paige to join us?"

"Paige?"

"My friend! You know, the singer?"

"Oh," Jack cried as he realised what Claire was asking. "I thought your friend was a boyfriend?"

Claire laughed. "I told you, I am single! No, Paige, she's umm... I met her on holiday, and we won the karaoke contest, I thought I told you about her."

"Yeah, but I didn't realise she was local."

"She's north Croydon."

"Oh," he muttered. "That's the dangerous bit."

Claire laughed. "Yes, it's the dangerous bit, but she's not dangerous. Well, not that dangerous." She giggled and pursed her lip. "So when's best for you?"

"Well, how about all day Saturday. Mum and Dad fancy a long weekend away or even Wednesday afternoon. I finish College at twelve, I could be here for twelve thirty."

"OK, I'll ring 'er," Claire muttered and then swore when the dreaded "out of credit" message appeared.

"Just use mine," he offered and Claire dialled Paige's number into Jack's brand new smartphone. She had a brief conversation with her talented friend before turning to her host. "She says could we have a look on Wednesday and record on Saturday?" Claire asked, and Jack nodded. "She sounds excited. But then, she always sounds excited."

"Yeah, sure," he agreed cheerfully. "Why not? I'll get some Pimms in for Saturday!" Claire groaned and warned Paige before passing the phone back to Jack. "Christ, I really gotta go," she announced in a stressed voice when she glanced at the clock. "I'll be late home otherwise."

"I could give you a lift if you want?" She looked at him, and he held out her keys containing a thick, chunky, car key.

"Let me guess, an eighteenth birthday present?"

"It's only a small car," he said defensively. "Nothing too flash, just a BMW 1 Series." Claire blew air through her teeth, but Jack insisted and after locking the studio, unlocked a three-month old black hatchback in front of the garage. "Your family is crazy," she muttered, but Jack just snorted.

"Nah, it's only a 1 Series. There's a guy at college who has a Ferrari as an eighteenth. Now that's crazy. What car do you have?"

"I don't," Claire told him. "I can't afford one."

"Oh," Jack muttered as his car turned into the private road. "It beats public transport. My car was in the garage a couple of weeks ago, and it was a nightmare."

* * * * *

"This was a birthday present?" Paige asked incredulously as she wandered up and down the recording studio. "A birthday present, you get a flat to play in? This isn't much smaller than my home." Jack smiled nervously as Paige spied the equipment and grunted. "And this is better stocked than a branch of Curry's. Wow! Just... wow! And you'd let us use this all day Saturday?"

"Yeah," Jack shrugged.

Paige scowled at him. "How much?"

"How much would you pay?" He asked and chortled when he saw the expression on Paige's face. "Nothing."

"There's got to be a catch. You guys don't expect something for nothing. There's no such thing as a free lunch. What ya after? Is it Claire?"

"No," Jack said immediately and glanced at the cleaner's daughter. "If you insist, a kiss at the end would be much appreciated. From you, not Claire." Paige's scowl deepened, but he clarified his lecherous comment with "on the cheek of course."

Paige hummed. "OK. Next question. How the be-jesus does all this stuff work?"

Claire laughed, and the two girls looked at Jack. "I guess, I should show you. I promised Claire I would."

"Yeah. Or you could just do it?" Paige teased. "I reckon you need a degree in rocket science to get this stuff working properly."

"You said you would," Claire reminded him with a smirk. "It looks so complicated."

"It's not that difficult, it's just... OK, try this." Jack walked to the cupboard and took out a microphone stand and placed it in the centre of the room, before retrieving two exceptionally long cables and a microphone. Paige watched as he connected everything together and passed her a set of headphones and then gestured towards the equipment.

"What?"

"Sing."

"I don't need this," Paige told him indignantly, holding up the chunky headphones. "I can hear my own voice."

"Just try it," he replied and she looked vacantly at him. "I know what I am doing."

"Sing what?"

"Sing anything." Jack retrieved two fold-up chairs and sat down in front of the equipment. He opened a drawer and pulled out two further headphones passing one to Claire. "We can move you into the other room and let you sing alone, but in the band we always liked to give instant feedback."

Paige squeezed her shaking hands and held onto the microphone, but Jack gestured for her to move away slightly from the black box and tilt her head. The singer launched herself into a rendition of Joan Jett's Bad Reputation, and Jack plugged two headphones into the output ports on the hardware, so Paige's companions could listen to their friend sing.

Jack changed some of the settings on the equipment to accentuate certain parts of her vocal range, and he told her to continue as she stopped to watch him. Paige closed her eyes, and they listened as she sang her way through some classic songs with Jack nodding towards Claire and smiling at Paige, who barely noticed.

"I can use these settings a pre-set." Claire nodded and hummed. "I mean, we need to adjust it with each song, but it's good as a base. You want a go?" Jack asked his friend. Claire looked at Paige who stepped away from the microphone, but Jack had retrieved a further microphone and stand. "Together," he suggested.

Claire was nervous – she had never sung in front of Jack – but Paige giggled and held her hand and whispered in her ear. "We could do this naked," she teased. "I always sing better that way." Claire shook her head and launched into an upbeat rock song, followed by Nirvana.

"No offence," Jack told them as they took their headphones off, "but you murdered Smells Like Teen Spirit."

"It was an interesting take on a classic," Paige spat back, but Jack just grinned at them.

"It was awful. But the rest of them were good," he quickly added, and Claire glanced up at the clock.

"I better go."

"Yeah, Mum and Dad'll be home soon," Jack told her and swayed his shoulders. "How about Saturday, do you want to give it a go? Drop some tracks, Paige?"

"Drop what?" Paige asked. "What's he on about?"

"Record some music," he muttered.

"Then say that," she teased. "Trying to act cool, honestly! But yeah, it'll be good. Great, even. If you don't mind."

"Course not," he said and raised his eyebrows. "I can even give you a lift home," Jack offered. "It's only a 1 Series, but I can get to Croydon in thirty minutes. I don't mind."

"No," Paige told him firmly. "We'll be fine." She grabbed her coat and bag and looked back at Jack shifting his weight. "And thanks," she muttered begrudgingly.

Jack smiled her, but she averted her eyes and looked for Claire, waiting by the front door. "See you Saturday?" He asked the two girls. "9am?"

"Yeah, that's fine for me," Claire replied. "I'm not working this weekend."

"No problem here," Paige added. "9am is fine. I'll get my dad to give me a lift to the station. He's working at the factory on Saturdays."

"See ya then," Jack said and waved them off at the door. Paige looked up and saw him, watching them from the window of his recording studio as they skulked the thirty metres to the gate and then out down the exclusive road towards the village and the railway station.

"He's nice," Paige told her friend as they reached the end of the road. "But hell, isn't he spoilt?" Claire laughed.

"Yeah, he is. You should meet his family. If you think he's bad, wait 'til you see them."

Paige shook her head. "I don't want to. But why's he doing this? What's he want? It can't be money."

Claire sighed. "I dunno. I guess, I think he's lonely," she suggested. "He's a nice guy and, it's just a feeling, but I think he just wants something different to do."

Paige giggled. "Is that something, you?" She teased and Claire shook her head, blushing.

"I think it's you he likes. I mean, he wanted the kiss off you."

"Better not be," Paige snarled. "I can't deal with posh bastards!"

"Yeah, but he's a posh, rich bastard," Claire teased and Paige's face remained unmoved.

"So?" Paige snapped. "He's still a posh bastard, and he better not be interested in me. I could never go out with him in a million years. We've got nothing in common."

* * * * *

"I've got us some lunch in the fridge," Jack announced, the moment he opened the door. "And some beers, there's Pimms and Lemonade, all that sort of stuff." Paige smiled and gulped.

"Right. How much do I owe you?" Jack dismissed her with a wave of the hand, but Paige crossed her arms and glared at him. "I can pay my way," she spat. "I'm not a charity case."

"Yeah, I know," Jack offered in defence and smiled at the fiery girl as she took off her coat. "This is for me too!" He took a moment to admire her slim body in her pale yellow T-shirt and pale shorts that showed off her toned legs. Paige cocked her head and gestured with her hands.

"What?"

"Sorry," he apologised quickly. "I was just thinking how pretty you looked. Sorry." Paige raised her eyebrows at Claire and hesitated as her host walked into the small recording studio.

"He's sweet," Claire whispered to her friend, but Paige shook her head; there was something that didn't feel right about Jack and it made her feel uneasy.

"Right," Jack cried as he clapped his hands. "What are we doing?" He saw Claire put her electric guitar on the floor and then Paige hover by the door. "What do you want? I'm here to help if you want me to. I mean, I want to, but I'll go if you want or... what?"

"I'd really like to get our version of Hot N Cold in and... er... one of my own," Paige told him. "I don't know how long this takes."

"We did several songs in a day once," Jack boasted and then smiled. "But, it's your day. I am totally sick of Physics and Maths, making music is an awesome break, so I'm yours. All day. Do what you want!"

Paige smiled. "Tempting," she teased, and Claire unstrapped her guitar.

"I need to tune mine, give me ten minutes."

"Do you want to borrow mine?" Jack offered and opened the cupboard to withdraw a black leather guitar case. "I never play it, although I tuned it last night. Just in case." Claire carefully undid the zip and cooed at the teal guitar.

Her eyes sparkled like she was a little child on Christmas morning. "Wow. It's... it's... how is this not used every day?" She asked, a little aggressively. "If it was me, I would go to bed and sleep with it. This is... what's wrong with you?"

Jack gulped. "Yeah... well... it's, just a guitar. Right?"

"It's a Les Paul."

"Yeah, but it's not a five grand model. It's just a..."

"One of the best guitar makes around. Oh man, it's..." Paige smiled at her friend; she was not used to seeing her so excitable, and Jack gestured towards the nervous Paige.

"I got another one around. That's not a Les Paul, but I got another one."

"How much did this cost?" Claire asked.

"Oh, a grand, maybe. Perhaps two. I can't remember. The whole studio came to seventeen or eighteen I think. I don't actually know for certain. Dad just got a local firm in who had just done one at his mate's house and gave 'em a blank cheque. It's no more than twenty." Claire's eyes bulged at the amount and she looked at Paige with a curious expression. "OK, Paige. Let's get your track down first. Without Claire and then do Claire afterwards."

"Me? Don't we play together?"

Jack hummed. "You can do," he said slowly. "But we don't. It's a bit raw if you do it all together. Best to do the vocals separately and then each instrument separately. But we always used to do the vocals first. I don't know if it's the right way or not, I never had much help in using it, but it used to work for us."

"Christ!" Paige hesitated and looked at the microphone Jack had set up for her. She took a few breaths and looked at Claire. "This is... help, I'm shaking."

"It's only us here," Claire soothed.

"Just relax," Jack suggested and Paige put on the headphones that were lay on the floor, waiting for her. "We can do a hundred takes if you need to." Paige nodded, and started singing a more up-tempo version of Katy Perry's classic. Her voice trailed off as she reached the chorus and apologised. "S'fine. Try again. We got all day."

He pressed a few buttons on the computer, and gestured towards Paige, who started singing, but trailed off after a few seconds. Paige gulped and swore at herself, before messing up again and taking the headphones off.

"I'm sorry," Paige told Claire and took a few deep breaths. "I can't do it like this," she muttered. "It's too formal. It's..." She coughed and walked out of the room. "Give me a minute." Paige strode into the reception room and looked out over the driveway and gate. She sighed and talked angrily to herself. "It's just singing, we've done this before. It's fine. Oh crap!" Paige muttered to the room, and took a few deep breaths to calm herself, but she still felt tense and put her hands on the back of the sofa.

"You OK?" Claire asked, and Paige nodded.

"I'm sorry Claire, I just..." She waved her arms around and put her hands together resting them on the bridge of her nose. "I gotta do something."

Claire bit her lip and watched as Paige removed her T-shirt and shorts, throwing them onto the sofa. "Paige... what you are you doing?"

"I'm sorry, but I need to be naked."

"What about Jack?" Claire panicked. "There must be some other way."

"It's fine," the underwear-clad girl snapped.

"I think there is a screen somewhere, we could put that up for privacy. I can look for it or maybe if Jack and me move into the other room and..."

"Don't worry," Paige said dismissively and took a few deep breaths. "It doesn't matter if he sees me. Loads of people have."

"Paige ... umm... are you sure 'bout this?"

"I can't sing any other way," she explained and added her underwear to the pile. "I'm sorry if I scare your friend, but I need to do this naturally. I never sing with emotion with clothes on and I can't start now." Claire watched as the red-haired girl gestured forcefully and sniffed. "I had a disaster when I was sixteen at a school talent show when I tried to sing with my clothes on, and I just can't to it properly when I'm dressed. It feels all wrong."

"It'll make for some great gigs," Claire teased. Paige muttered an apology, opened the studio door and walked in, causing Jack to squeal in shock.

"What the...?"

"Yes I know, I'm naked, I'm a natural red-head as well as you can see, and I've got a birthmark on my lower back. But I can sing naked. I can't sing clothed, but I can sing naked. Trust me."

Jack scampered to the end of the room to close the blinds and looked at Claire as she entered the room behind the naked singer. "Did you know about this?"

"Of course she knew about this! I'm a naturist, and we met on holiday. And I thought we told you, we won the karaoke competition and..." Claire stared at Paige, and shook her head, but Jack understood their secret before Paige stopped talking.

"Oh my God, you two are both naturists. Do you..."

"No we probably don't," Paige snapped. "Apart from singing naked, which we did and won. That's it. I can't sing with my clothes on. Now are you two joining me textile or bare?"

Claire whimpered. "Not in front of Jack."

"You were going to before," Jack teased her with a grin.

Paige coughed to interrupt Jack's teasing. "Let's try again. And please, treat me as if I was dressed," Paige asked. "And I will be able to sing. I feel free and relaxed when naked." Paige waited for the signal from Jack who stared at his screen and waved his hands in front of him, without turning to look at Paige. "Is that start?"

"Yes," Jack said, still staring at the screen and Paige giggled.

"Then do it properly," she snapped. "I don't care about you seeing me naked. Just don't be a twat and stare!" Jack turned around to face her with his eyes closed and gestured. Paige laughed, but composed herself and sang into her microphone, pitching the song perfectly and singing the track with energy and emotion. She beamed at the two other occupants in the room as she finished. "How was that?"

"Perfect," Claire cried. "Oh, I can't wait to add a backing track to this."

"Yeah," Jack muttered. "Could we do that again?"

"Why?" Claire asked. "That was perfect!"

"Ummm... a small technical problem," he admitted and withered under Claire's questioning look. "OK, I forgot to start recording. I had other things on my mind. It's been a long time since I've seen a naked girl in the flesh," he explained and Paige giggled.

"I didn't realise I had that effect on you!" Jack blushed as Paige crossed her arms and she took a deep breath. "Can we go again now?"

Jack nodded and gave her the cue to the start. Paige performed her vocals three times before Claire added her guitar track alongside the powerful voice of Paige. The guitarist openly admired Jack's expensive guitar, but had to keep re-recording as she kept making mistakes.

Jack also made a few rudimentary errors that he blamed on the length of time from when he last used the set, but Paige kept seeing him sneak sly glances towards her as she sat next to him, and got a pleasure out of leaning across their host to touch things on his computer or mixing deck so that her bare skin touched his body.

They listened to the completed track, and Jack suggested that Claire should add some backing vocals which was met with a scared look by his friend. "Give it a go," he encouraged her, and she reluctantly sang into the microphone. "You're too powerful," Jack interrupted after a few notes and Paige got up from her seat to stand in front of the dominant vocalist. "Sing with her, not against her." Claire watched Paige as she mouthed the song, but Claire shivered and stopped singing.

"OK, get naked!" Paige demanded and Claire's eyes bulged.

"What?"

"Come on," Paige ordered and Jack shrugged. "You are all over the place and you weren't at the karaoke. All you need to do is get out of those clothes."

"I'll look away," Jack promised.

"On holiday we won the karaoke competition. We can nail this, we need you to be comfortable." Claire shook her head and looked longingly at her friend. "You liked it at my flat."

"But..." She pointed towards Jack and Paige snorted.

"On holiday dozens of people saw you." Claire bit her lip and turned away from the demanding girl.

"OK. But for you. I hope you know that! This is to get you a record deal."

"Yeah," Paige said with a smile. "I love you loads. And Jack, no peeking!"

"Sure," a nervous voice came from the other side of the room. Claire folded her clothes and passed them to Paige who stacked them on the floor next to the door, and Jack started the tracks through the headphones as Claire sang a soft set of accompanying vocals.

Paige cheered as they finished and put her arms around Claire as Jack turned to face them and then apologised. Claire retrieved her clothes after they listened to the completed song and got dressed, although Paige was happy to wander around the recording studio naked.

Jack supplied the three of them with alcohol, sandwiches and quiche for lunch. Paige asked why she had "leeks in her egg custard" only for Jack to stumble as he answered. "What?" She asked. "Oh you really think I am so poor I've never seen a quiche!"

"Well..." Jack suggested and then sighed. "Well, you sort of make it so difficult for me when you say things like that!" Claire laughed at Paige's irritated face, and she took a couple of pages from her coat pocket.

"It's the song I'd like to record. It's... about my sister. Umm, I don't want to go into detail," she said as she looked at Jack. "But Claire, you've seen the guitar tab I want?"

Claire gulped and nodded. "Yeah, I'll give it a go," she promised, and Paige got up to use the toilet.

The second half of their song recording session started with Paige delivering her own song about her sister's attempted suicide. Although she didn't explain all to Jack, it was clear that the song meant a lot to Paige as the teenager had to wipe her eyes after each take. "It's called Don't Leave Me," Paige explained as she finished her eighth attempt, managing to hold her long, high notes perfectly with powerful emotion.

Jack stopped Claire from getting up and looked at Paige. "I know this is your song," he started. "And I know it means a lot to you, but I don't think you want a guitar."

"Why?"

"Your voice is too perfect to have a guitar over it." He sighed for a moment and closed his eyes. "Try a keyboard."

"But I can't play the keyboard," Claire moaned loudly, and he smiled.

"But I can." He looked at Paige and bit his lip. "If you want me to."

Paige nodded, and he retrieved an electric keyboard and looked at the guitar tab. He ran through several combinations of the music as Paige and Claire watched before taking over twenty attempts to add a backing track to Paige's exceptional vocals.

"Do it naked," Paige suggested. "It's easier."

Jack snorted, but continued to be unable to get something he was happy with and got frustrated by his own inability to perfect his track. "Give me a minute," he asked. "I just need a quick breather."

Paige looked at Claire as he left the room. "Shall we try with a guitar? I mean, at least we can do that!"

"Keyboard'll be great. Think Sinead O'Connor and that was piano or keyboard."

"And a guitar," Paige added. "Trust me. And I don't think my voice is Sinead O'Connor territory." Her eyes met the door as Jack burst in and she squealed.

Apart from his socks, Jack was naked, and he smiled. "It worked for you and it worked for you," he said nodding towards the two girls in turn. "And it better work for me," he said as the girls laughed at him.

"How much beer and Pimms did you have at lunchtime?" Claire asked mischievously.

"And I know I am blushing. I always do, but I want to get something good down for you and keep messing it up, so this is to stop that."

Paige raised an eyebrow as the muscular and well-toned man sat down at the computer and she whispered a question at Claire. "It's the rugby," Claire told her in response.

Jack was nervous, and the naked Paige teased him with a gentle shoulder massage as he went to play. He smiled at her, and took two further attempts to get his attempted keyboard track right, but was happy with a piano sound and Paige nodded appreciatively. "Much more powerful," Claire agreed as they played the completed track back to the room.

He looked at Paige for approval, but all three of them jumped out of their skins when the front door to the little self-contained flat slammed. "Oh..." Jack cried, swearing under his breath. "My clothes are in the lounge."

"Yeah, mine are too," Paige added. "Claire, go out there and get them."

"No," Jack shouted. "No." Their eyes were fixed on the door to the studio as it opened and a middle-aged woman squealed.

"Oh my God! Jack!"

Jack covered his manhood as Paige turned away from the shocked woman. "Aunty," Jack cried.

"I was going to tell you, I'm going to the shops and did you want any more booze?" The woman rubbed her eyes and grinned. "But I see you are busy." She cackled and the flamboyant woman smiled at her nephew. "You are so like your father," she said as her eyes focused on the naked Paige. "Ahh, he loved redheads as well. 'Til he met your mother, of course."

Jack gulped and sniffed. "Please don't tell him."

"Ahh, I won't," Aunt Lucinda promised. "He's a joyless wretch these days." She looked at her blushing nephew with glazed eyes and giggled. "Next time lock the door," she advised, and shut the door with a chortle.

"Bollocks," Jack moaned. "She's got a mouth like a foghorn when she drinks." He looked at Paige and apologised.

"Shall we get dressed?" Paige suggested with raised eyebrows, and when her friends nodded, she left the room to get reacquainted with her clothes.

Jack burned her and Claire a copy of their finished songs to CD as Paige got ready. "Same time next week?" Jack suggested, and the two girls looked at each other. "I've enjoyed today more than any day in, like, months. Years, even. If you want to, I'd love to do it again."

Claire nodded. "I can do next week if you want to. Paige?"

"I can do Sunday," Paige replied and rubbed her eyes. I can do Sunday but not Saturday. If we aren't going to cause a problem..."

"No," Jack said quickly. "Oh Aunt Lucinda. She's easy enough to deal with. You can bribe her with any alcoholic beverage you can think of."

"OK," Claire agreed and looked at Jack. "Sunday?"

"Sure. Do you want picking up from Croydon?" Paige shook her head and held her hands out.

"No, I'm fine," Paige muttered and leaned in to give Jack a kiss. "As promised," she whispered. Jack smiled at her, and they carefully opened the door and made their way to the station.

"I can't believe he didn't know about your naturism," Paige whispered. "Why didn't you tell him?"

"'Cause, he is not that close a friend," Claire replied and then sniffed. "And I don't like non-naturists to know."

"I think he liked it," Paige added. "And I'm warming to him. But he is still up to something. And I'd love to know what it is."

* * * * *

"Did Claire give you my number?" Paige asked as she sat down at the table of the little coffee shop.

"No," he said immediately and looked at the expression on the fiery girl's face. "Well sort of. She used my phone to ring you that day, and I never wiped the memory. Now, what do you want, to drink?"

"I'm fine."

"No seriously, I'm going to get myself one," Jack offered. "I'm paying."

Paige smiled. "OK. If you're paying, I'll have a large mocha, with extra espresso, marshmallows, cream, chocolate stick and chocolate sprinkles with a blueberry muffin, tiffin and walnut cake on the side," Paige told him and then smiled. "Or just a small hot chocolate'll be fine."

Jack got up from the table, and Paige sent Claire a text telling her that Jack had met her and that she didn't want to come between them, which elicited a confused response from her friend, who genuinely appeared to have no idea what Paige was intimating at.

"No, seriously, we are not an item," Claire snapped, when she got fed up of the text message tennis and rang the diminutive firebrand. "And we won't be. I don't like him like that, but if you do, then enjoy yourself. Now, I've got to go, lessons."

"OK... fine," Paige muttered to the beeping handset. "Impatient little witch!"

Jack returned with a giant mocha espresso, complete with cream, marshmallows, cream and chocolate sprinkles and three pieces of confection. She groaned. "I was joking," she told him as he took a sip of his latte.

"Were you?"

"Yes," Paige scowled. "This is like a meal."

"Oh, well, you said you wanted it." Paige shook her head and thanked him, enquiring as to whether spending over ten pounds on two people at a coffee shop registered as excessive to him. Jack shrugged. "Not really."

"So what do you want to meet me for?"

"I don't know," Jack admitted. "I just fancied a chat with you. I know Claire a bit and... I had a free morning, and I wanted to talk to you and..." Paige raised her eyebrows at him as he bumbled. "I want to help you record your music, and I wondered if you'd consider recording some of the music I wrote." Her eyes narrowed, and he tapped his fingers. "Did Claire tell you 'bout Ellie?"

Paige shook her head. "No."

"I was in a band called Element of Surprise and I wrote music, lots of music for our band. And my girlfriend was the lead singer, and her voice was similar to yours, so it's written for your vocal range."

Paige smiled and looked into her mountain of calories. "OK, right. Guess your band split up?"

"My girlfriend and I split up," Jack said instantly. "So the band was toast as she started going out with the third member."

"Oh," Paige muttered.

"Yeah, and the songs haven't been recorded since."

Paige grunted. "Sure but I don't want to record just your stuff. I have some music I've written too, but I'll need Claire's help. I don't know enough to know what instruments I want with them. I want a guitar with them 'cause that's what I had in mind, and Claire's working on that. Claire reckons we should record an album but that's a lot of songs. I dunno. She said make sure there's also a couple of covers 'cause everyone knows them but no idea what, but they have to have a guitar in them and they have to suit mine and Claire's voice and... why are you looking like that?"

"I'm not, I'm just... well you've not asked me to do anything other than just mess with the equipment but I can help if you want. You know, of course that I play the guitar and keyboard, and I can do that like I did on your song, but..."

Paige's expression caused him to trail off. "Why are you doing this?" Jack stopped at the interruption and sniffed, taking the opportunity to sip at his drink as he thought. "Is it to impress Claire?"

"No, not at all. I guess I've missed my music. It was my escape, and I like your voice and..."

"But why me? There are hundreds, thousands, loads of people with good voices, and many of those are women. Why me?"

"Does it matter?" Jack asked. "We could have fun together, relax and stuff. I'm looking forward to it. For the first time in months, I am really excited about using my studio again."

"Yeah, me too. But there is something I don't get. My dad always told me to be careful of the upper classes. He said posh people like you, are always looking to screw normal people over."

"I'm not," Jack quickly told her. "But if you don't want my help, we'll go our separate ways," he offered and watched Paige's expression.

"If that's how you feel," Paige snapped and got up, only for Jack to grab her by the wrist.

"No," he admitted. "It's not. Really, I am looking forward to it. I have some great songs I'd love to hear, and I do like your voice. I think it's great."

Paige's face flickered into a smile. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Don't take offence, but I still don't trust you."

"None taken," Jack promised. "Am I allowed to not trust you, either?" Paige bit her lip and giggled. "My Dad always told me not to trust 'normal people' and said they are always out to mess us posh types up."

Paige giggled. "I can believe it. I heard about your parents going skitz about you and Claire." He shrugged, and she looked down at her cakes. "But you can help me eat some of this! It's bloody ridiculous buying all this. What the hell were you thinking of?"

"Well you said you wanted it," he replied defiantly. "You asked for it!"
  9. # Chapter VIII

Paige, Claire and Jack met regularly over the following two months, meeting most weekends and often during the weekdays, when their schedules allowed. Jack's Aunt Lucinda was certain Jack was "diddling" both girls, but she approved of her nephew "dipping his wick" so much that she was only too happy to assist in the deception and aided the three of them so that they were not interrupted by Jack's family.

After the third session, Claire suggested that they form a band, and as all their music was being recorded naked, they became "The Bare Necessities."

For their début album – called "Xposed" - they had a mixture of music written by Paige, by Jack and cover versions. As much as it pained her, Paige had to admit Jack was a good songwriter and his work made up half of the twelve songs on their album.

Paige loved some of the lyrics, especially "Even My Dog Wants You Dead" that he wrote after seeing Ellie a couple of months previous. Jack was happy for his two band members to amend his songs and Paige had made sweeping changes to several of his tracks to increase their tempo.

Paige was more protective of her three songs; "I Am Free" was written about a naturist running through a rainstorm and she argued that Jack could not understand the song as he was "a bloody textile." He raised his eyebrows at the time and pointed out that he was recording their music naked – at her insistence – but this was not sufficient for the fiery redhead to concede to his changes.

As June and their exams drew to a close, the three of them had twelve songs they were delighted with and had spent hours perfecting, and Paige had grown to like her wealthy friend. True to her promise, she had kissed him after every session, but had also told him that it didn't mean that she liked him, much to Claire's amusement; Paige was obviously lying and it was clear Paige and Jack had developed a bond that neither of them wanted to admit to.

"What we need to do is some gigs," Paige muttered. "Studio singing is fine, but singing live will be awesome."

"I was going to send our CD off to some record companies," Jack suggested. "I mean, they will love some of it, I know." Paige sniffed and ran her hands through her hair. "They will love Paige's voice, certainly."

"I hadn't thought of being a music star."

"Yeah, if you go on TV you need to sing with your clothes on," Claire added.

"Depends on the TV channel!" She quipped and shrugged. "Yeah, I know. OK, send 'em off, I think it'll be a good experience. But I have no idea if I can sing well with my clothes on."

"Really?" Jack asked. "You would be OK with us sending copies of our music to record companies and agents and the like?" Paige nodded as she downed the lunchtime beer. "Oh and I've had an idea for a change of riff in the Cotton Tails."

Paige groaned; it was one of her songs that he wanted to change, but he tugged at her naked arm and the nude girl returned to their studio room.

* * * * *

"Jack," his father boomed, and the eighteen year-old shifted awkwardly. "Now that your exams are over, I bet you want to get straight down and working at the firm," he gushed.

Jack groaned. "Well..."

"Well what, darling?" The simpering voice of Anne Rees-Montague asked. "You can't stay around here all day."

"Yeah, I know," Jack agreed. "But I've got all year. I've worked really hard on my A Levels, and I would love a few weeks, just 'til I get my results, to just chill and spend some 'me time.'"

"Me time?" His father laughed and tapped on the table. "You're eighteen, lad! Yer need to stop fannying about and get some real work done."

"I will. I want a few weeks, just to recharge my batteries."

"Work'll do that," his father barked. "And what would you do for two months?"

Jack sighed. "I'm back into my music. After Ellie left, I lost the will to do it, but now I am taking full advantage of the recording studio. I'll start in September time."

His father snorted and spoke derisively at his son. "I don't think so."

"Paul," a voice came from the corner of the room, and Jack looked to see his Aunt Lucinda holding a half-empty bottle of whisky in her hand."

"This doesn't concern you," she was told, but Lucinda cackled and sat down on the sofa. "Can you leave us please? I need to have a word with my son."

"Yeah and it's my nephew that you are terrorising."

"When I want parenting advice from you, I shall ask."

Lucinda sat back and smiled at her brother. "I remember a little boy starting work at seventeen in the holidays and used to come home crying 'cause his father had made him work from 8am to 8pm without a break and he just wanted time with his secret girlfriend." Paul sat motionless. "What was her name? Remind me."

"It doesn't matter."

"I think it does. She was the daughter, or niece of the gardener. You remember? Lovely little red-headed girl. Always smiling and very agreeable. What was her name?"

"Gina," he said quietly.

"Gina," Lucinda repeated loudly and took a swig from the bottle of expensive single malt. "That was it. And what happened to Gina?"

"This is not the time or the place," he thundered. "And..."

"She got extremely bored of an unhappy young man. And she went, taking her sweet little red hair and bounce away with her." Paul's eyes narrowed, and Lucinda smiled at her incandescent brother. "Only what you are doing to Jack, happened to you. You think it's some rite of passage, to be a bastard to your children?"

"Get out!" Paul shouted, but Lucinda sat unmoved. "I said..."

"I heard," she told him. "And I am ignoring you. As I bet you wished you ignored our father." He gulped, and Lucinda cleared her throat. "'Cause by the time you did stand up to him, sweet little Gina was off being agreeable with someone else. So, Jack isn't working for you, he wants to be free for a few weeks. Give 'em that, 'cause when he starts working, he ain't gonna stop 'til he's in his sixties." Paul shook his head, and Lucinda added. "Or has a nervous breakdown."

Paul flinched, and she got up. "It's my choice, it's my..."

"It's Jack's actually. But if I find him working next week, I might just look to see about my shares in the firm and what rights I have to manage it. After all, I have a vested interest in my nephew's future employment as well."

"But... we agreed."

"Yeah. And you also told me when you cried yourself to sleep every night that if you had kids you wouldn't be like our Dad was. You break your promise, I break mine." He grunted and gestured wildly at his departing sister. "Now I'm off to the Off License, want anything?"

Jack looked at his father. "Happy now?" The middle-aged man thundered, and Jack shrugged.

"Yeah, I think I am!"

* * * * *

Paige and Claire straightened their T-shirts and looked at each other. "Let's hope this one goes better," Paige muttered as they approached the pub on the outskirts of Croydon.

Their attempts at trying to find a venue where they could play live music was proving fruitless. The more popular pubs were not interested in a band doing their first live set, and some of the smaller, niche venues wanted particular styles of music.

Paige and Claire felt patronised at their penultimate pub when the owner called them "schoolkids who want to play" and Paige swore at him, en route to being ejected from the tiny establishment.

Claire and Paige strode into the bar more confident than they felt. "Could we see the manager, or landlord, or whoever?" Claire asked when the barmaid gave the two teenagers her attention.

"'Ey, you old 'nuff to be in 'ere."

"Err... yes!" Paige replied and then had to find her purse to show the barmaid her photo identification to prove this fact. "We just want to speak to the landlord."

She shook her head and shouted through a doorway at the back of the bar. "Terry! Terry! Some girls to see ya!"

A bald-headed, rotund gentleman bustled into the bar and looked at the slim Paige and curvy Claire smiling unnaturally at him. "What d'ya want? Ya better not be 'ookers wanting to put ya cards on my noticeboard! I said no to the last lot."

Claire and Paige scoffed. "Do we look like hookers?" Paige looked at her clothes as Terry gave a muffled apology. "I really need to think about my dress sense."

Claire tutted at her friend. "We would like to play a gig at your pub," she told him, and he groaned.

"Not another one. Look, 'ave you done any locals before, 'cause I ain't see ya?"

"No," Claire admitted. "But..."

"I don't do untried bands. 'Cause what happens is they never turn up, and I look like a dick. And when they do they can't sing. Good at karaoke are you?"

"We did meet at a karaoke competition," Paige admitted, and he laughed. "But we aren't bad and..."

"What, your mum say that? Look, sorry girls, but, it ain't happenin'"

Claire rubbed her forehead as Paige banged the bar. "Look, all we want is a chance." She clicked her fingers at Claire. "Where's that CD?" Claire rummaged around in her bag and passed her friend a compact disc, and she tuned to the landlord. "That CD player there, is it playing this rubbish at the moment?"

"ELO are classic, my dear."

"Right, well put that on, listen to any song for thirty seconds and if you still think we are crap, we'll sod off."

"It's my pub, I'll tell you to sod off now if I want you to go."

"OK." Paige took the only money she had in her purse, putting the five pound note on the counter. "I bet you five pounds that after listening to one of our songs you want us to play your pub."

He looked at the angry face of Paige and the inquisitive expression from Claire and snatched the CD from her, loading it into the player behind the bar. "What track?"

"Any track. There are nine original songs and three covers." He pressed RANDOM on the player and then forward, and the CD jumped forward to Number Nine.

"Sweet Love?" Paige asked her friend.

"Girls," Claire replied. "You should know it off by heart now."

"Oh of course. Written by our third member. Upbeat song!" Terry held his hand out and listened to the guitar solo at the beginning and Paige's voice dancing melodiously. He roared with laughter when the lyrics started suggesting the irrational things "girls do" and looked at Paige. "He's going through a tough time with women," she explained, and the landlord chuckled. He pressed forward again and listened to I Am Free and then Sweet Love and finally the cover of Bad Reputation.

"How much are you selling the CDs for?"

"Five pounds," Claire replied, and he opened his wallet and put a ten pound note on the bar. "I'll keep this. Tuesday 8pm in the room upstairs?"

"I'll check with Jack," Claire told him and walked away from the bar with her mobile phone

"I admit it, you're not bad," he conceded to the gloating Paige.

"I said we weren't."

"Yeah, it's different doing live work to recording music in a basement," he told her. "It's very different. But I'll give you a go. But I ain't payin' ya. Ya can make some money flogging ya CD's, but that's it."

"Sure," Paige agreed as Claire rejoined them.

"Tuesday 8pm is fine," she told the landlord and extended her hand over the bar. "I'll see you in a few days," she promised and shook Terry's hand firmly.

"See you on Tuesday. And don't let me down."
  10. # Chapter IX

"What are you doing?"

"Designing our Internet presence," Claire replied and looked up at Jack. She pressed a few buttons on her netbook and then shut the lid. "Thought we could do with one. If we are doing gigs, then we need an Internet site."

"Right," Jack muttered. "And I bet you want pictures of all of us."

"Of course." Jack hesitated as Claire hummed and she sighed. "Yeah, I know. Your parents won't like it."

"Oh they won't mind me playing music with people, just not naked girls. And certainly not..."

"Yeah I know. Paige and me are the wrong social class." He gave a pained look, and Claire just shrugged. "I don't know why your parents hate us so much."

"Because they think we shouldn't mix. Dad runs a big factory and most of his workforce are from..."

"... Our types?" Claire finished for him as he stumbled to finish his sentence.

"Yeah; I guess so. And he comes home and every week moans about his employees. And he wants me to be like him, take over the firm and be like that. But I can't seem to tell him, I don't want to. He won't listen." Jack swirled his coffee in the little deli where Claire was having her lunch break and shrugged. "I like Paige. I think she's fantastic, and if Mum and Dad would listen to her singing they would know she is so talented."

"She is talented," Claire agreed at bit into her sandwich. "Very talented. And she can do better than me on the guitar to accompany her voice."

"You are much better than Ian," Jack added and looked at Claire. "I saw Ian and Ellie kissing last night; I drove Lucinda to the supermarket and they were outside a club. And I felt nothing, didn't even register. This Bare Necessities has really made me forget about her. About them."

Claire stroked the back of his hand. "Good," she said with a smile. "Or is it just seeing me and Paige naked every week?"

Jack laughed. "You really do not want to know," he admitted. "But I can't deny that there is a freedom to making music nude. It's empowering and liberating and... just better."

"I know. I'm just worried about Paige now. She can't go stripping in the pub, and she needs to get used to singing with her clothes on."

"She'll be fine," Jack said, dismissively. "She's like that. Nothing fazes her, does it?"

Claire snorted. "No, that's the problem. But..." She didn't get to finish the sentence as she was called by the manager, standing over the glass display; she was at the end of her lunch break, and she waved goodbye to Jack as she begrudgingly returned behind the counter of the delicatessen.

"I'll ring you," Jack promised and watched as his guitarist returned to her job.

* * * * *

Andre adjusted his suit and watched; he had been invited to the filming by the performers after talking on the telephone, and had been made to feel welcome by the crew as the "No Holes Barred Gang Bang Crew" performed a scene for their forthcoming film.

The NHBGBC were certainly well-known; their videos were amongst the most popular of their genre and even Andre had heard of the four girls that made up the soidissant "queens of the gang bang!"

They had been friends at University and graduated in 2008 as the economy was in the midst of an economic storm. Finding work impossible to come by, they had formed their own pornographic website and were making tens of thousands of pounds making explicit films and performing live sex shows.

What they needed was an agent to help them go to the "next level" and Andre's call couldn't have come at a better time. He spoke to Ruby, who was certainly the brains behind their success, and watched as the aforethought young lady was roughly impaled. The NHBGBC were "on tour" and filming themselves with dozens of randy young men at a time, all from different universities each week; it was a gruelling and uncompromising schedule, but it was making a success of them.

It took an hour after filming for the actresses to be ready to talk to Andre and he waited patiently for the four actresses to appear. Ruby, dressed in tight jeans and a crop top, was first to emerge, followed by "Pippa" - a Scottish brunette in a short, flowery dress. "Shall we go to the coffee shop?"

"Sure," Andre muttered. "What about the others?"

"We'll chat, and if its positive, then we'll all go to sign." He nodded, and they crossed the road to the coffee chain on the opposing side of the road. Andre bought the two girls a drink and sat down, looking at them with a smile.

"OK. My uncle – and director of Incredible Talents – has been in artist management for almost thirty five years. In that time, we have represented England international football players, musicians at the peak of the charts and Oscar-nominated actors."

"Oh... who?"

"Our client list is closely guarded," Andre replied instantly to snorts of disappointment from the two girls. "But there's been some stellar names on the list," he lied. "And we have always represented the best interests of our clients."

"So how many blue movie stars and actresses like us have you managed?" Ruby asked with a dollop of cream stuck to the end of her nose. "I don't recognise your company name at all."

"None," Andre admitted after a brief pause. "It is an area we are looking to expand into. We think our contacts can help you."

"Right, so you want us to sign a contract that gives you a percentage of our earnings, but you have never managed anyone like us before?" Ruby asked aggressively. "Is that right?"

"Well..." Andre hummed. "Not quite. We take eight percent, but this is negotiable, and we would look to make you into a brand." His eyes met Pippa's and he grinned at them. "We think you have an exciting story to tell – book deals, telly appearances, not to mention merchandise. A Gang Bang Club pencil case, that sort of thing."

Ruby scoffed. "And who is going to stock our pencil cases?"

"Everyone stocks Playboy. Aren't they the same thing?" Ruby laughed. "I mean I saw twenty guys there today. Fans?"

"Hell yeah," Pippa replied. "We had to turn away so many applications."

"They could even do it for free," Andre joked, and Ruby scowled.

"Why should we let them have their fun for free? We charge five hundred pounds a person."

Andre gulped. "You mean, you took ten thousand pounds for them turning up."

"No, we took ten thousand pounds on the website three weeks ago for tickets. It paid for the shoot. We then get paid when we upload it, and people buy it. Plus, we get people coming from porn video sites where we upload one scene to our site. And we sell the DVDs through the website as well as membership."

"So, they pay to have sex with you. Doesn't that make you a bit of a... well a pimp and prostitute?"

Ruby guffawed with laughter. "Yeah, of course. But everyone's doing it." Andre looked a little surprised, and she giggled. "Don't tell me Kate didn't take it up the bum to entice William. Hell, I would have taken it every which way to grab a member of the royal family."

"There's always Harry," her friend teased.

"I'm not that desperate," Ruby joked.

Andre gulped and shrugged. He took a sample contract out of his bag and passed it to Ruby. "Read it, if you are interested."

"Sure. I think if you can get us a book deal to put us in print and in bookstores then we might be interested. You see our fans will buy it and non-fans who buy it will come to our website." She looked at Pippa who nodded. "And approximately 5.6% of people who come to our website subscribe. Which is twenty-five pounds a month. So if, we can get another 10,000 hits in a month, that's an extra 560 subscribers, which allowing for some people cancelling would probably top 120,000 pounds extra a year. Which will easily pay your fee. Not to mention the advance."

Andre nodded. "You have this worked out. It's very impressive," he complimented her, and Ruby cackled.

"Yeah. I should think so. I did Maths." Ruby and Pippa chatted warmly to Andre, and any reservations he had about the two porn stars disappeared; they were sharp, clever and business-minded, and he knew that their partnership with Incredible Talents could be extremely fruitful.

They left, and Andre picked up the phone to dial his uncle; they had themselves a deal, as long as Uncle Greg could sweet-talk a publisher.

* * * * *

"Where are you going?" Hazel asked her sister. Paige looked up from the mirror and saw the expressionless face looking at her.

"Out," Paige said with complete brevity.

"I heard you talking on the 'phone," Hazel muttered. "Said something about a gig."

Paige smiled. "Yeah, I am singing in a band. You can come and watch if you want." Hazel shook her head. "Hey, I was going to pubs when I was fifteen."

"Don't want to," she replied and looked at her frowning sibling. "Does Mum and Dad know?"

Paige grunted, but her sister clearly knew what she meant. "I don't need to tell them," she added. "I'm eighteen now." Hazel's eyes narrowed. "I'd like you to come if you want to see me sing. It's in The Jolly Roger, over in Eden Park."

"I'm not going to a pub," Hazel snapped, and her eyes dropped to the floor as Paige looked at her.

"I'd love you to see me, one day." Hazel pursed her lips as Paige got her coat. "Be good, and don't wait up," she teased.

"Yeah. And good luck," Hazel told her as she left.

* * * * *

Paige and Claire nervously approached the venue. They had arranged to meet Jack at the pub as he was bringing the equipment and thought they might struggle to get everything in his car with them as well. "I feel really nervous now," Paige whispered to Claire, with the borrowed Les Paul guitar in a case over her shoulder. "We spent ages getting our songs perfect. We can't do retakes here."

"Yeah, but it'll be fine," Claire responded cavalierly. "It'll be fun."

"Have you ever sung in front of an audience?"

"No," Claire replied. "Apart from the karaoke."

"I have," Paige admitted. "I was sixteen and at the school talent show. And I just froze. Scared to death after the first note. It was a bloody disaster."

"Now you mention it," Claire teased and smiled. "I know, you told me before. But we'll be fine."

"It felt unnatural," Paige moaned. "I just locked up."

"But we did the karaoke competition. And it won't be that big an audience."

"But that was different," Paige replied and sighed. "I was naked."

"You can't be naked tonight," Claire told her, firmly and Paige looked at her with a grin. "No Paige, you can't. We'll get chucked out. Please, just imagine you're naked but keep your clothes on."

"OK. Well, I better get my act together." She stopped and looked into the car park, and they walked across to see Jack waiting by his car. "I've got to get over my problem."

"Could have got you two in as well," he told them as he opened his boot. On top of the amp and two speakers was his keyboard and a bag of cables. "If I take the speakers can you take the amp?"

"Sure," Claire replied and between them the three teenagers carried their equipment into the pub.

"Upstairs," Terry directed them, and they looked at him. "I always put new bands in the function room. We got a bar up there, and people will go up." He smiled at them and coughed. "If you are any good that is."

The faded function room was set up with two rows of ten chairs at the front of the room, as well as two dozen tables with chairs dotted around the room. There was a raised platform at the end which was generously referred to as a "stage." They noticed a bar at the back that was closed, and Jack sighed as he put the amp on the stage.

He retrieved his keyboard, and the girls tried to help him set up their equipment, but Jack refused any help and then insisted on some sound tests. Claire loved performing guitar solos as the sound echoed around the room. "I guess they call it intimate," Jack teased and glanced at the clock; it was ten to eight and the first couple of people entered the room.

Jack saw Paige was getting nervous and bought three vodkas from the downstairs bar which Paige drank two of instantly, when he returned. "This is scary," she moaned. "Proper scary. I'm shaking like a leaf."

"Paige," Claire cooed. "Just relax."

"I am relaxed," she panted and ran her hands through her hair. "I am relaxed, it's not a problem. I'm fine. Oh hell, hell, hell, hell!"

"Paige, calm down!"

"I am calm. I'm like a leaf in the middle of a river. Sort of calm."

Claire looked at Jack who asked their anxious bandmate for help adjusting his keyboard, clearly thinking that taking her mind off her forthcoming appearance would help her: while she was distracted she could not fret. "Just don't worry," Jack whispered. "You've got a great voice," he complimented her. "It'll be great!"

"Yeah?" Paige asked. "Of course."

She looked back at the room and had a sharp intake of breath; their audience had grown from five to fifty in just a couple of minutes, and she looked at Claire.

The dark-haired girl took her microphone from the stand and looked at Jack. When she got a smile, she sighed, hit some of the light switches by the side of the stage that plunged the room into semi-darkness, apart from the stage, and walked to the front. "Hiya," she said and heard her voice be broadcasted to the room, from behind her. "I'm Claire, this is Jack and Paige. And we are the Bare Necessities." There was a slight cheer from a few members of the assorted audience and Claire smiled. "This is our first gig, so bear with us if a couple of things aren't quite set up right. Hope you enjoy it, we got a mixture of covers and original songs." She nodded towards Jack, and he started the introduction of I Am Free on the keyboard.

Claire joined in with the guitar and waited for Paige who missed her cue, and they had to restart. There was some grumbling from the audience, and Paige's voice quivered as she hit the first note. She struggled with the chorus and their up-beat pop-rock song sounded flatter as Paige couldn't get herself back in time with her colleagues.

Jack looked up to see her hands shaking, and Claire looked across at him. A voice shouted "rubbish" from the crowd as Paige finished her song, and the red-haired girl looked apologetically at her band mates. "Sorry," she muttered into the microphone. "But I don't usually sing like this." Paige shook her head at Claire. "I've got to."

"Paige, no!" Claire shouted, but Paige was not listening. She kicked off her shoes, slid her jeans to her ankles with her knickers caught in her thumbs, and stepped out of them before discarding her top and bra. The crowd shouted and hollered at the singer with some of the patrons looking shocked and surprised, but she was oblivious to the appalled and astounded looks she was attracting, and threw her clothes to Jack. She beamed broadly; she looked confident and felt confident.

"Can we try that again please? Now that I am properly dressed for singing. I can't sing when I am dressed. I'm a naturist."

Jack and Claire looked at each other nervously, and they started their backing tracks again. Paige hit the introduction perfectly and injected more energy and authority into her vocals that gave a performance dripping with pizazz and vigour. Several of the audience swayed to the rhythm and Paige smiled, completely oblivious and untroubled by her state of dress in front of such a large audience.

She didn't hit all the notes perfectly, but she didn't expect to; it was a live performance and they were entertaining the crowd. Paige gave a near-flawless rendition of Bad Reputation, Jack's rock song Sweet Love and then her own song, Cotton Tails.

The room, which was a third-full, was soon filling up as their music carried down the stairs, and they saw the figure of Terry in the doorway. He stopped when he saw Paige and gestured towards her, speaking animatedly to his barmaid behind the small bar in the function room.

Paige noticed the shocked landlord and called "Girls" to her bandmates. They played the song that Terry had adored on the CD to perfection, and the appreciative landlord stood at the bar, listening and smiling to Paige as she performed her music with energy and enthusiasm. If he didn't like Paige being naked in his pub, he wasn't going to intervene while she was singing so well, and his bar tills were ringing.

Paige looked up and saw the familiar figure of her sister loitering by the door. "This next song was written when someone I love, very, very much, attempted suicide. And I've never had the opportunity to sing it to her, but I hope she understands what I felt when she hears," Paige said to the room and wiped her eyes.

Claire sat down as she had no part in the song, and Paige started singing her powerful song, accompanied only by some understated piano notes from Jack, while Hazel stood statuesque staring at her naked sister on the stage.
  11. # Chapter X

Hazel listened spellbound as Paige sang "Don't Leave Me" to her rapt audience and, wiped her eyes as her sister's powerful voice hit several difficult notes that filled the room. As the 45 minute mark approached, Paige asked for an interval and the crowd gave the teenagers a deafening round of applause. Hazel worked her way to the stage to talk to her naked sister lapping up the generous appreciation of her audience. "You came!" Paige cried and threw her arms around the apprehensive Hazel.

Hazel nodded and looked behind her. "It's scary on the streets and in here. It's just... so many people."

"I'll get you a drink," Paige told her and got down from the stage, only to have to go back and retrieve her purse when she felt for her pockets and found nothing but bare hip.

"I'll go," Claire offered and returned to the stage with four ice-cold lemonades.

"Why aren't you two naked as well?" Hazel asked, and Paige raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, the Bare Necessities, is unbare."

Claire giggled. "Because we aren't as crazy as you." She saw the figure of Terry wander towards them and braced herself for some awkward questions.

"You know, you guys don't need a naked lead singer," he told them. "Your music is fine without a gimmick." Paige snorted.

"It's not a gimmick," Paige replied sharply. "I'm a naturist. I can't sing with my clothes on. I feel like I'm being forced, and it's not natural and..."

"Well, if it works for you, it works for these guys. Hell, I've not seen this room so packed since they thought Iron Maiden instead of Iron Maidenhead were coming." He smiled and licked his lips. "Printing Error. Got very nasty. Took us weeks to get the blood out of the wallpaper."

"Right," Claire muttered and gave him a giggle. "But you don't care?"

"My till ringing is the only thing I care about," he joked and looked at Paige. "You know, if you can sort out the singing with anything on, I'd put money on you to be a worldwide star."

"Could she not be a star without her clothes?" Hazel asked, aggressively, and the landlord turned to face the quiet teenager with crossed arms.

He snorted. "Maybe! What do I know? Oh, and if some lady turns up from the council, I knew nothing 'bout this!"

Claire smiled. "Sure." He coughed and nodded towards Paige. "It's true. It's something we hoped wouldn't be an issue but Paige does everything naked and she just froze so she had to strip to sing." He glanced towards his bar, and when he saw a sizeable queue, made his apologies.

Paige sat Hazel at the very front, and goaded Claire into removing her clothes. There was a deafening cheer as the curvy girl gave in and stacked her clothes by the side of the stage next to Paige's and the band launched into the rest of their repertoire.

Although Claire put up some resistance she was gleefully smiling at Paige, and the lead singer wondered if there was any vodka in the lemonade she had drunk at the interval.

The teenagers were a bit unnerved when half the crowd knew the words to their final song – The Emperor's New Clothes – especially as that was an original track written by their keyboardist, but they got a standing ovation and demands to continue playing.

Paige and Claire sold all twenty copies of their album for £5 a piece, with the landlord admitting that Xposed had been on repeat in his bar for most of the previous four days, with the exception of their cover of "F**k You" as it offended his wife.

"I'll drop you off home," Jack offered the two sisters, but Paige shook head.

"I'd rather walk. I want to talk to my sister."

"I'd rather take you home," he replied. "It's pitch black, and it's Croydon." He cocked his head as they loaded up the boot of his car and he put his hands together. "Please, I beg of you."

"You beg of me? Oh, all right," she snapped and the four of them had to squeeze into the brand new car for the short journey to Selhurst.

"Hey, don't I get a kiss," he demanded from Paige when he stopped the car outside her flat, who blushed under the street light. "I normally get a kiss. Every time we play, I get a kiss, right?"

"Huhh-nnnn," Paige grunted and gave the driver a peck on the cheek through the open car window. "Happy now?"

"'Til next time," he told her and waved as the two sisters walked across the road.

"What was that about?" Hazel asked as they stepped onto the pavement.

"You don't want to know. And thanks, it was good seeing you there. Did you enjoy it?"

Hazel smiled and nodded. "Yeah. You were brilliant. Really good."

"That's the first time I've seen you properly smile," Paige responded. "Well, for a long time. Come here." She held her arms out and put them around her sister, hugging her tightly. "I've so missed happy Hazel."

Hazel sniffed. "Did you really write that song for me?"

"I wrote it while you were in hospital," Paige replied. "At your bedside when I refused to go and get something to eat. Mum and Dad tried to make me but I just couldn't." Hazel gulped as Paige looked at her. "You're my sister, you can't leave me. And no, I've never written one for Jeremy or Mum or Dad. Just you."

* * * * *

"You are mad!"

"I am not mad," Claire moaned and dunked her biscuit into her coffee. She looked over at the proprietor of the little deli-cum-coffee shop where she worked, who gave her a nod of the head.

"Twenty minutes, Claire."

Claire turned her attention back to Jack, and she tapped the table. "Listen. We recorded our music naked, we love being naked."

"You love being naked. Paige does. Not me." She stared at him, and he shrugged. "Yeah OK, in the studio, but not in public."

"But you liked it. We are called the Bare Necessities. Surely we should have a bare picture on the cover of our CD. We called the CD, "Xposed" for a reason. And we can do it Calendar Girls style, you know, no rude shots, get the keyboards and guitar and microphones to cover us."

"I will get shot if Mum and Dad find out about me being in a band and playing pubs. They will use both barrels if they find out that the lead singer, not to mention the backing singer and guitarist was also starkers. If I am naked as well, prfff, I dread to think. I think it would make Hiroshima look like a Gnat's fart."

"Stop worrying about them," Claire demanded with a scowl. "Just, do what your heart says. What do you think?" Jack hesitated, and Claire cocked her head. "What do you think about us? Us three?"

"I think Paige is one of the best singers in the country," Jack told her. "I think we have a perfect album with some great songs. And I think we make a good unit. I think that Paige singing naked is a bit of a gimmick to get us known, but I also think it will work, and I like the way her voice sounds when she gets her kit off."

"She does not get her kit off," Claire told him. "Page 3 get their kit off. Paige..."

"... disrobes," Jack suggested tactfully. "And I am getting more enjoyment now out of my music than I ever got out of Element of Surprise or my rugby. I feel at home, and I wouldn't change it for the world. But because I like it so much, I have to be careful. You're OK, your parents are fine with naturism and fine with you singing. Mine are less so."

"But... but it's stopping you doing what you want."

"It's not. It's making me think," Jack corrected her, and Claire pulled her phone out of her pocket. "And just making me be a bit careful, that's all."

"Look at our MySpace stats."

"Do we have a MySpace space?"

"Yes," Claire replied. "I put us up there. And Don't Hate Us is one of the most popular songs."

"Christ!" Jack muttered, but Claire just smiled at him.

"After we do a couple more gigs I want to start putting some photographs up. And I want us naked on the front cover. I have a friend who is a photographer and she'd do a wonderful job."

"Claire, please. I can't be naked. It's too much of a risk." Claire cocked her head and sniffed. "Don't look at me like that."

"I spoke to Paige last night, and she said it was a brilliant idea. She said if you agreed she was totally up for it."

Jack gulped. "Paige wants me to do it?"

"Yeah. She said something about an extra kiss too."

"OK. I'll think about it," he promised and looked at his band mate. "But only because it's Paige."

"I'm sure she'll be honoured," Claire teased in response.

* * * * *

"Ruby, Pippa and... where are the rest?"

"They'll be here," Ruby promised Andre as the two girls walked into the small office above a Battersea shop. "We are here to hammer out some details."

"Right," Andre murmured, and held his hand out to lead the girls past his desk, and that of the secretary, to the small office of his uncle.

The balding man smiled from behind his untidy wooden desk, and he leant across to shake the hands of the beautiful girls. "Come in, come in, welcome to Incredible Talents. Bet you know who I am?" The girls looked at each other blankly, and he scratched his head behind the back of his ears. "I'm Greg Wilson. I've launched hundreds, if not thousands of careers, from this office." He looked around the room and gestured with his hands. "Doesn't look like much, but it's amazing, it really is."

Ruby sat down and rubbed her hands. "You said you had the book deal we wanted. Your assistant was sure he had everything we needed and that the financials met our demands, plus the editorial control."

"Straight to business," Greg laughed and gestured to his nephew to leave them alone, and Andre closed the door to the office. "Sure. I have the contract from the publishers here and it's a cracking deal. And here is our contract, as agreed, to sign." He tapped two documents on his desk, and Ruby glanced at Pippa.

Pippa pointed at a photograph on the wall of a footballer with Greg, and she smiled at him. "Did he play for England?"

"Luxembourg," Greg replied and grinned. "I brought him over and he played around sixty times for ..." He turned around as Ruby picked up the two contracts from his desk and she smiled at him.

"I just want to have a look at the financials."

"Well let's talk business," Greg cried and clapped his hands. Ruby had opened the book publishing contract as Greg spoke and quickly scanned through it.

"Ummm... if you give that back, we can get our contract out of the way first before talking 'bout that one. Let's do things in order."

Ruby ignored him as her eyes leafed through the pages. "This book signing contract is between us, and the publisher, not you, right?"

"Yes, I believe so," Greg admitted. "But..."

"So, you agree, that this contract is totally separate from that contract." She tapped the small bundle of sheets with "Incredible Talents" across the top and raised her eyebrows. "We can take the publishing contract away and negotiate that separately. The two aren't linked."

"No, that is true," Greg admitted to her. "But I would be amazed if you turn it down. It's a terrific amount up front for an unpublished author, and the royalties are fantastic. I can guarantee you won't do better."

Ruby smiled. "That is true. Looking at these figures, I won't do any better, and we will sign this contract. But I won't sign yours." Greg's smile disappeared. "For three reasons. One, you have never worked in pornography before, so you have no idea about our industry ..."

"Now listen here," he shouted, but Ruby put her finger to her lips and then pointed at him.

"Two, I don't think your contacts – such that they are – would be of any benefit to us and three, you are someone who is so naïve that you have let me get my hands on the contract I actually wanted before I have signed the contract you needed me to sign. You didn't even plan for what you would do if I got cold feet, and I don't want someone that dumb running my affairs."

"But hang on," Greg told her. "We've had the entire office working on this for a week."

"Yeah, I know. And that's what's so awful. You would waste that much time by being so stupid." Greg whimpered and clenched his fists. "We'll see our own way out," she told him and got up from the chair.

"This is what we call being rammed in the arse," Pippa told him with a giggle.

"Yeah, with a twelve-inch monster and no lube," Ruby added with a sneer.

"I'll see you in court," Greg threatened, but Ruby just smiled and rubbed her hands.

"You do that. And see ya. And thanks."

She opened the door to the office and nodded towards Andre as she strode through the room. "Good?" Andre asked.

"For us, wonderful!"

Greg appeared at the door and beckoned young Andre. "Those bitches," he yelled as the two girls slammed the front door of their first floor office. "They only took the book contract without signing our one."

"They can't do that, can they?"

Greg hit the wall and shouted. "I don't bloody know," he yelled. "Legally, maybe. I don't know. The sluts."

"Hey, there is another group that I can go see," Andre suggested, and his uncle looked at him. "The Sluts of Essex."

"No, they are right. We don't know their industry. We should stick to music and acting. Proper music and proper acting." He took a few breaths and looked at his nephew. "The bank has given us four weeks to find some more clients and come up with a better business plan or they'll pull the rug from underneath us."

Andre gulped. "Pull the rug? You mean..."

"I mean liquidated. Exterminated. Erased. Deleted. Discarded. Ended." Greg rubbed his eyes. "Sorry."

"But that's four weeks. A lot can happen in four weeks," Andre suggested optimistically, but his voice quivered as he spoke.

* * * * *

"Hello Caterham," the naked Paige cried into the microphone and her voice reverberated around the grounds of the rural, village pub. Claire had got a phone call from the landlord of the Jolly Roger offering the band "a set" at a pub run by his brother-in-law a few miles away in the countryside and the band had leapt at the opportunity.

It was a splendid evening, and the "stage" had been set up in the beer garden. She recognised a few of the attendees from the first night in Croydon and smiled. In the audience was Hazel, armed with her digital camera, and she had convinced her partners-in-crime to strip also.

Jack put up the most resistance, but when it was shown that behind his keyboard, his assets could not be seen and that he could have a dressing gown for interval, his resolve wavered. When Paige jokingly offered a second kiss on the cheek for a naked performance, with the possibility of further kisses, the reticent man conceded, if he got paid in advance.

"I'm thinking you are enjoying those kisses too much," Claire teased him and he blushed. Paige hurried him into removing his clothes and there was no doubt, from the cries and whoops, that the women in the audience appreciated Jack's body. His well-defined muscles and boyish look was adored by the ladies, and he got a bigger cheer when he was introduced than either Claire or Paige managed.

Paige found her rhythm immediately, singing well from the start and adding energy and passion into every lyric. She had the crowd on their feet several times throughout the show, and as the sun set below the horizon, they took an interval so the patio heaters could be lit.

The second half of the show had Hazel clearly in tears as Paige sang her signature Don't Leave Me, and as they finished their collection of songs, the audience demanded an encore.

Paige blushed as they got a standing ovation and looked at her band mates. "What song?" She asked the crowd. "We'll do two more, which songs?"

"Don't Hate Us," a voice cried.

"Sweet Love," said another.

"Hot N Cold!"

"None of yours," Jack teased and Paige poked her tongue out at him.

She spoke into the microphone before the audience could suggest any more, before turning to her bandmates. "If we ever release our music, guess these are the best three," she joked and then gave Claire the signal to start the introduction to Don't Hate Us.

They finished their two hour gig as the garden became chilly and even Paige was grateful when she was able to reach for her clothes to get dressed.

"Wonderful, Wonderful," cried the landlord as they loaded their equipment into their car. "I never believed him when Terry said you were good, but we've been full all night."

Paige smiled. "Could we play here again, later in the summer?" She asked. "It's a great venue."

He nodded. "But in the summer, right?"

"Of course," Paige replied with a smile. "Although, naked in the snow. Has a good ring to it."

"Most definitely not," Jack said firmly and Paige giggled.

"Three kisses for snow?" Paige asked, and Jack shook his head.

"But I'll take another two."

Paige glanced over at Hazel watching her from a table, and gave her friend a kiss on both cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear. "You enjoy it?"

"In a weird way, yes."

"I promised you that you would!" Jack gave all three girls a lift back to the city and dropped the sisters off outside their flat. Hazel passed her camera to her sister as they entered their room and they started looking through the pictures on the laptop.

Many of the images were of the band, clearly naked, and Paige smiled at her nude body. "Hey, I don't look too bad, do I?"

"No," Hazel admitted. She flicked onto the next picture and scowled.

"Who's this guy."

"Oh crap. I meant to mention it," Hazel muttered. "Look under his jacket, he was looking odd, and I saw it. It's a video camera."

"Oh... oh well... what's the worst that can happen?" Paige squinted at the young man in the picture. "Just don't tell Jack, he'll freak."

"Sure," Hazel muttered, but Paige stared at the man on the screen; what did he want a naked video of her for?
  12. # Chapter XI

"Sorry, didn't recognise you with your clothes on," Claire teased as Jack kissed her on the cheek. She had been called into work due to sickness, and Jack had arranged to meet her in the eaterie after the lunchtime rush to coincide with Claire's "lunch" break.

"Pah," Jack told her. "Was a good gig. Landlord seemed proper happy."

"Was cool. I got a couple of phone calls yesterday. One from an agent who wants to meet us and another from Jolly Roger again. Wants to know if we can go back as so many of his regulars are asking after us."

Jack chortled. "It's fun, isn't it. Why an agent, by the way?"

Claire sighed. "That's what I need to speak to you about. Paige knows, well she guessed, but she doesn't care. You, I don't know."

"What?"

"Give me your phone."

"Why?"

"'Cause I have no data on mine. Or credit. Or battery. Or... it's useless," Claire moaned, and she navigated Jack's expensive smartphone to YouTube and then a video entitled "Naked Band – Bare Necessities – Part One."

"Christ!" Jack cried, and Claire apologised to the manager on his behalf. "How the hell did this get on here," he hissed.

"Paige's sister, she took some photos, and we have a photo of the guy who took it, but..."

"Can we get it taken down? I mean, I am naked on the Internet!"

A few heads turned to look at Jack, and Claire apologised again for his outburst. "I don't know," Claire whispered. "And don't read the comments, some of them are nasty. Jealousy I reckon. But our download numbers are very good. We are getting popular."

"For the wrong reasons. The Naked Band. That's what we are, a naked band. Not a great band, or an entertaining band. It's not about the music, it's about our clothing. Or complete lack of it."

"So what?" Claire muttered. "They are listening to our sound at the same time as watching us. That's good, right?"

"It's... awful," Jack replied. "I should never have let you talk me into it."

"It was Paige," Claire reminded him with a giggle. "And you did it because you like her and she offered kisses for you adhering to her naturist principles. And you liked doing it naked. So what, we are recorded starkers. Does it really matter?"

"This isn't funny. If my parents see this, I am a dead man."

Claire shrugged. "It's been the best advert we could hope for," she told him in a dismissive voice. "They might find that you are one of the most popular musicians on YouTube as the Bare Necessities."

Jack snorted, and Claire was called back to work. "I'll ring you later," Jack promised her and watched as she returned behind the counter at the upmarket delicatessen. He finished his drink and got up, tripping over a bag and looking to see the face of his sister, smiling back at him.

"Hiya Jack. Care to walk with me?"

"Sure."

"So, you screwing that cheap slut?"

"What?" Jack asked as he closed the door to the deli.

"Are you scewing her? It's twice you've met now, and she seems nice enough."

"No I am not," Jack replied. "And I know her, she's..."

"The daughter of the maid. Don't you think you could aim a little higher? Or is she just easy?"

"She's... actually this is none of your business, Harriet."

"True," Harriet replied and shook her hair back into place. "But it is Mum and Dad's. Not to mention the Naked Band."

"What Naked Band?"

"Oh brother, you really must learn to be more discreet. Everyone could hear you. So I searched the Internet for Naked Band and The Bare Necessities, and it came up with a video of some other cheap harlot naked, that floosie and my brother. Now what would my brother be doing naked with two girls?"

"OK, we made some music," Jack admitted. "And played it naked. It's a one-off, that's why it was filmed."

"Don't believe you," Harriet sang.

"OK. Well it's ended now anyway," Jack lied.

"So I can tell Mum and Dad?"

"I'd rather you didn't," Jack asked, but Harriet cackled and rubbed her hands with glee.

"I know it's not over, as you were talking to her about it." Harriet sneered at her brother. "Don't lie to me." Jack sighed as Harriet theatrically thought out loud. "The thing is, why shouldn't I tell Mum and Dad what you have been doing? Harming our good family name."

"Because I don't want you to," Jack replied and put his hands in his pockets as they ambled down the private road.

"You don't want me to," Harriet repeated with glee. "But you agree it is my choice whether I tell them."

"It is your choice," Jack conceded, and Harriet gave a grin. "But as your brother I would rather you didn't." He glared at his skipping sister. "And I know about some of your secrets," he warned.

"I don't have any secrets," Harriet told him angrily. "But I'll be in touch," she promised. "I'll tell you what I want when I've thought about it. My silence is very expensive."

"Oi," Jack moaned. "I keep your secrets," he repeated. "And I don't expect anything."

"Yeah, but when you are bringing people like... them... into our lives then it's different. Dad'll go mental when he finds out. You, and those cheap girls. He'd be so embarrassed."

* * * * *

"Why?" Jack asked, and Paige gestured wildly.

"Because... we look fantastic. The sun setting and the trees and stuff. We look awesome."

"But we are naked," Jack replied. "I am really not sure about this."

"Yes. Because we are the Bare Necessities. Look, we are naked on the video. OK, that going on the 'net wasn't up to me, but we are still naked. What difference do some pictures make?"

"Because they are very high resolution," Jack replied and zoomed in on Paige. "Look, I can see your nipples in such detail."

"So what! Who wants to do that? There are millions, maybe billions of pictures with exposed knockers. Who would care about mine?"

Jack sighed as his eyes lingered on the close up of the photograph. He was clearly visible in the background, and he shook his head. "You have no idea," he said firmly and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, I really can't do the naked thing any more," he said. "My sister knows, and I reckon my parents will find out."

Paige gulped and her eyes narrowed. "I thought we sorted this," Paige thundered and crossed her arms. "All those recording sessions when you would be all scared, do it and then say it was good to be naked. I thought you were happy to be nude when we played music?"

"I am."

"Then why the problem?" Paige asked aggressively. "You're eighteen."

"It's not easy," he said loudly. "You don't know them. They would go crazy if they knew."

"I don't care," Paige shouted back across the studio. "You said you are happy doing it this way. You said you liked it, was that a lie?"

"No!"

"Then so what if they find out?"

"It's so easy for you, you don't have this problem! They would go mental at me."

"And do what?"

Jack gulped and shook his head. "I don't know. I just know, you don't cross my parents. They'll just go crazy if they know I've been making music without my clothes on. Or in public. I just, can't think of anything worse."

Paige snorted. "OK then. I will go and tell them that I am pregnant by you." Jack's eyes widened. "Or would that be worse?"

"Paige," Jack pleaded. "You can't be pregnant because... well..." He gestured embarrassedly at his friend.

"Because we ain't had sex," Paige spat. "Why so embarrassed about it? But, OK, I go tell them I am pregnant. And I want to keep it and will call it either Leroy or Kylie, say." Jack shook his head as Paige hummed. "And if I have a bottle of booze in my hand. Then you will see mental. And then tell them that's not true, I just make music with you. Then it won't seem as bad! They might be quite relieved that it's just music your making with me, and not babies."

"Paige," Claire called. "Leave him alone."

"You need to grow a pair," Paige shouted at the keyboardist. "Tell them that this is what you do whether they like it or not. They'll still love you even if they don't."

"Yeah well, it's not as easy as it sounds," Jack moaned. "They aren't like your families. They are more..."

"More what?" Paige asked with scowl

"Well, we don't go for the naked thing. They like to remain respectable. They are decent people."

"Respectable? Decent?" Paige thundered and grabbed her coat from the chair. "So this it, I like to be naked because I am some cheap, gutter, alley cat. Is that it?"

"No," Jack cried, but Paige's eyes narrowed. "I didn't say that."

"Is that what you think of me?" Jack gulped and shook his head, but Paige didn't wait for an answer as she stormed out of the little studio.

"Call me when you grow a pair," Paige shouted over her shoulder as she departed.

* * * * *

"Who are you going to see?" Greg asked as he looked over the shoulder of his nephew.

"Five artists... all unsigned... doing well on the Internet. YouTube, MySpace, that sort of thing. I think this one is pretty special – it's a group called the Bare Necessities and they rock, naked."

Greg sniffed. "Why?"

"I don't know," Andre replied with a smile. "But I will be seeing them tomorrow so I can ask. I got the number off a guy who runs a pub they did a set in. Spoke to one of them. She seemed quite nice."

"Leave 'em."

"Leave 'em? But they are so popular. Listen!" Andre turned the sound on his computer up to maximum and played Don't Leave Me with Paige's powerful voice causing his hairs to stand on end. "See."

"Right, but naked singers. When was the last naked singer that made number one?"

"But that's the point. Before Elton John there wasn't gay singers making number ones, but when he came along there was. And in today's world it isn't a problem."

"I can't get nudity on MTV before the watershed. So promotion is your problem. And then there are the venues, legal issues. If you see them they need to know that this will be a problem."

"Maybe, maybe if we start them off at some niche venues and work our way up," Andre suggested. "I think her voice is great and the videos, well they really seem to be enjoying themselves, and it says here on the Twitter feed that someone has their album. I think they could be worth a punt."

"We need some solid clients," Greg told his nephew. "See 'em, but we need some proper bands. What are the others like?"

"There's some rockers, here. What do you think?"

Andre skipped onto the next tab of his browser and Greg nodded. "Play 'em. They look a better bet."

* * * * *

"Paige," Jack called as the girl strode up his drive. "Paige!"

"What?" Paige snapped, and he looked at his fiery friend.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "Look, really I am. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"No, you shouldn't," Paige thundered.

"But I want us to continue," he promised her in a soft, warm voice. "Really I do."

"But that means all of us being naked. We are the Bare Necessities, after all. You can't have the Bare Necessities with only two of the three bare. We'd be all wrong."

"I will be naked. You are right, I do love the sense of freedom and love recording those songs. Those weeks really were among the happiest days of my life, and when we did the set in the pub, all I could think of was those hours recording our music with you and Claire." Paige blinked, and he sighed. "Yeah, I shouldn't be so worried. The chances that Mum and Dad will come across me naked is so slim I shouldn't worry, should I? And Harriet is just trying to scare me, I think. She'll forget about it soon."

Paige's smile flickered. "But it shouldn't matter if they do find out. Do you think that my parents approve of everything I do in my life?" Jack hummed, and she crossed her arms. "Do you think it's worth it?"

"What?"

"All the trouble you are getting off Harriet and you having to tiptoe around your family. Is it worth it?"

Jack nodded as he thought. "Yes," he squeaked and cleared his throat. "Umm... yes, definitely. I think that second gig we did was just incredible. I keep thinking back to it."

Paige laughed coyly. "Glad I'm not the only one. We should go do it again." Jack bit his lip and she looked at him. "You do want to do it again?"

"In a heartbeat," he promised her.

"Good! Now Claire said she wanted to meet me here today. What's going on?"

Jack beamed. "My parents are in Paris for the weekend, my sister is away to the villa of her friend's parents. Dorset or something. Lucinda's not home from her night out but she said she was going to find her inner drunk, so God knows where she is. So we have the house to ourselves, and Claire has got a call from a couple of agents that want to sign us up."

"Really? And you want to be signed up by an agent? 'Cause then you might get recognised by your parents."

Jack gulped. "Yeah, that had occurred to me. I sort of reasoned that they would be less likely to have a problem with it if I had a record deal. A sort of, look how well I'm doing, don't look at the method, look at the end result." Paige grunted derisively. "Yeah, I know. Wishful thinking maybe, but this is your big chance. And Claire's big chance. I can't mess that up for you. And, if they find out, I can handle it. It's not a problem," he boasted with a nervous quiver to his voice. "At least I think I can."

Paige kissed him on the cheek and held his hand, leading him up to their studio. Claire was waiting for them and had made drinks for them all, before showing them the notes she made from the agents that rang.

While they waited Jack switched on the radio. "Turn him off," Claire moaned when the talk show host came through the speakers.

"Who is it?"

"It's Peter Moran. The ex-newspaper editor," Claire moaned. "He just criticises anyone with any talent." They listened as he patronised the recent music awards winner, and moralised over the winner's sexual integrity before Claire got annoyed and tuned it to another station.

Their first appointment arrived on time, and the impeccably dressed Nathaniel Stevenson was retrieved from Jack's drive by Claire and shown into the little reception room of the studio. Claire gave the sharp-suited agent a quick tour of the two rooms, and he sat down on the sofa, putting his file and phone on the table.

"Hey, is that the new iPhone?" Claire asked, and he nodded.

"Ahh, brilliant," he replied. "Cost a fortune, but well worth it. Now, guys to business. Do you want to be naked now, Paige, 'cause I don't mind?" Paige shook her head. "Pity, I like redheads." Paige turned her nose up at the arrogant gentleman, but he didn't notice and looked at Claire. "I can see you are the smart one. Now, what I would suggest we do, is look at your nakedness. Sure, the music's good, but naked chicks, now that sells. I want to see DVDs and CDs. Tours. I want to see lesbian action on stage between you and the redhead. Maybe get some people on stage to..."

"You've missed the point," Paige thundered. "I am not naked so people can get their kicks."

Nathaniel snorted. "Yes you are, love."

"No I am not."

"Listen love, you are. I know it, and you know it. Maybe it's a thrill for you. Maybe it turns you on or gets you all steamy. I don't know. But you are naked, let's exploit that. It's your signature. And guys want to see girl-on-girl, and they want to see tongue and plenty of rumours. We'll have newspaper rumours that you two are planning on getting married, and the guy here, he gets to watch. We'll call him the luckiest guy in the land, and..."

"I am finding you somewhat offensive," Claire interrupted him.

"Hey, it's just the way the music business works," he told her. "Everyone needs plenty of back story and copy for the gossip columns." Paige sniffed. "Your music, yeah, it's good. But it's not enough now. All the X Factor winners have plenty of back story. You need that today. It's just the way it works."

"The way you and your agents make it work," she corrected him, and he nodded.

"Yeah, so what? Anyway, thinking of a sex tape. Nothing moves a celebrity's status like some dirty filth on camera."

"And you take a cut of this?" Paige asked and he just laughed. "So you can buy brand new phones, like this?" Paige picked up the white mobile phone, and she threw it up in the air.

"Don't do that," he snapped as his facial expression changed and she caught his new phone.

"Want it?" He nodded, and she smiled. "Well, I would like you to leave," Paige told him. "Because you have only been here for five minutes and you have offended me, Claire and Jack. So I reckon where this goes, you'll go." She smiled sweetly at him, and threw his phone so that it arced perfectly in the air and sailed out of the open window.

He stared at her for a split second as the phone made a crunch on the pavement. "That's my bloody phone. You dirty filthy lesbo bitch, you'll pay for that, I'll..." He didn't get to finish the sentence as Jack picked him up by the scruff of the neck and dragged him down the corridor before throwing him out of the studio front door.

"Don't talk to Paige like that," he yelled and positioned a kick at his rear end as the agent stumbled down the stairs. "And don't come back." The agent hurled some abuse at Jack before picking up his broken phone and wheel-spinning his car in a hurry.

"Can you believe that?" Paige asked as Jack returned. "God I hope the other two don't do that."

Claire gave a nervous smile and hesitated. "Well the next one was a bit creepy on the phone."

"Oh great. Do we actually need an agent? I don't even know what they do."

Claire hummed and looked at Jack. "Shall we have another go at Cotton Tails? I think someone needs to calm down," she said, looking at Paige with a glare. "Can't believe you did that to his phone!"

Their peace was shattered half-an-hour later when "Philip T A Fletcher-Smythe" rang Claire's mobile and she retrieved him from Jack's drive after the three of them got dressed. Once again, she showed him the studio, and he snorted in derision.

"Yeah it's a nice amateur set up," he told them in his nasally, posh voice and looked at Paige as he came into the reception room. "You guys are amateur. But I came to see the star."

"Pardon?"

"You," he told her. "Your songs were good, I liked 'em, but your voice, love. Ahhh, it's pretty sweet. And I came to get you. I've got a couple of top notch songwriters who will fight bears to get your voice on the end of their songs, and I got some cracking guitar players who could make some serious music."

"So you want Paige, and only Paige?" Claire asked, and she looked at Jack. "Well we know our musical ability is nothing compared to Paige's singing..."

"I don't like this," Paige interrupted. "We started together."

"But we formed to give your voice a platform," Jack told her. "We did this to get to this moment. We've served our purpose."

"No," Paige said firmly. "You came to see the Bare Necessities not Paige Simmons."

"I came to see you," he corrected her and in a sanctimonious tone continued. "And listen, I can take your tracks to half-a-dozen A&R people. Top, top, people who will listen and I reckon we can get an advance on an album. Maybe twenty, maybe fifty thou. And you can break free of this. Your voice needs better and I can give you that. Think of it, fast cars, luxurious apartment, proper entourage. Jetting around the world. More money in the bank than an African country. Just move on. Like a star striker playing for Crystal Palace when Arsenal come calling. I can make your dreams come true, Paige."

Paige gulped. "My voice..." She started and licked her lips as she thought. "It doesn't work without these two and what they bring. Our music doesn't work without them."

He snorted. "Those songs aren't bad, but they are not Premier League. Your voice, could be. Really one of the best in the world. With my help."

Paige laughed. "I don't think so," she said firmly.

Phillip Fletcher-Smythe looked at Jack. "You tell her 'cause that's the problem with her sort. They're so used to having nothing, they don't know what they have got." He gave a forced laugh and sneered.

Paige smiled sweetly. "Do you have a phone?" She asked, and he hesitated.

"Why?"

"I'd like to see it?" Paige replied at the man desperate to charm her and he looked anxiously at her friends, fidgeting awkwardly.

"Paige, don't do it. Not again." Jack put his hand across the agent's body, but Paige stood up angrily.

"I'm not going to throw it out of the window, I'm going to take it and stick down his throat so far that he will be farting the dialling tone for the rest of his life. And then I am going to kick him in the nuts so his eyes water and then..."

"Paige," Claire cried and put her arm across her angry friend. "A simple 'no' works, but listen to what he is saying. Your voice is..."

Paige pushed Claire's arm away and grabbed the suited man by the scruff of his neck, just as Jack had done earlier in the day, and threw him towards the door.

"I've come all the way from Belgravia," he moaned. "Your friends can see what a good opportunity this is for you. You need to break free from them."

"Out!" Paige yelled. "Get out of my space!"

"It's your choice, love. But they'll all say the same. Your voice is decent, their talent isn't and..."

"They are my friends. We are in a band. We formed to make music. You either sign all of us or none of us." She pushed him towards the front door, and he opened it as the angry singer stood behind him. "If I can't sing with them, I don't want to sing."

Jack came up behind her as she watched the man reverse his car out of the family drive way as she panted. "I hate people like that. Why..." She turned around to see pained expressions on Jack and Claire's faces and she crossed her arms. "What?"

"You should have thought about it," Claire told her. "I know I can sing OK, and I can play the guitar to a reasonable standard, but I am not exceptional. I might be decent, mediocre or good, but your voice is incredible. If anyone is going to make it to the top, it's you."

"And we will only slow you down or stop you," Jack added. "We started recording music to put your talents down in music and..."

"You're wrong," Paige told them both quickly. "Totally wrong. You can play the guitar, Claire. That guitar solo at the start of Girls is epic, and Jack, your piano sound on Don't Leave Me. I can't do that, and, if I can't make it to the top with my friends, I don't want to."

Claire and Jack hummed. "But you've only known us for three months."

"Yes, I know." Paige took a few deep breaths and bit her fingernail. "But," she said with her finger in her mouth. "But, I feel happy singing again. And that's it, I've said it. If they don't want to accept Bare Necessities, then we don't sign."

"I think you are making a mistake," Jack told her.

"Me too," Claire added.

"You think that," Paige snapped as she pushed past them to get the reception room. "But I am not signing anything that is for Paige Simmons and only Paige Simmons. We started this together, but we are going to finish it together."

Jack rubbed his eyes. "I admire your loyalty..."

"I don't want your admiration," Paige snapped as she poured herself a glass of water. "At first I disliked you, you were a spoilt, little posh boy playing at making music, but as I got to know you I found that underneath the spoilt child was a nice guy who I have got to like. You still irritate me. You still need to cut the apron ties with Mummy and Daddy, but I like you. And I like Claire, I found someone who likes singing with me. And we have the weirdest band going, but that's what it is, a band. A group." Her eyes narrowed and dropped to the floor. "A family, almost. And I don't want to split that band up, not yet." She looked at Jack and Claire. "And, I don't think I could make it through the music business on my own. And I don't think I want to."

Claire tutted and she flinched when her phone beeped. "It's a message from the last guy, says he is early but are we OK to meet him?"

"If he says I have to split with you two, I am going to kick him so bloody hard," Paige warned.

"Just think about it," Jack told her. "We can still make music when you aren't touring foreign continents and stuff, but it could be a great opportunity for you."

Paige waited for Claire to leave the room, and she glared at her friend. "I don't want to do it without you and Claire," she hissed at Jack. "I want to be part of a band. Part of a family. I am not going solo, so stop thinking that I will." The smiling face of Andre Wilson interrupted Paige's hushed conversation, and he shook Jack's hand, and then Claire's and offered it to Paige. "Tell me, who have you come to see?"

"Err... well you and your friends. Or is it band mates? Or peers? Bare Necessities. I think you're Paige. Chloe and Jack."

"Claire," Paige corrected him. "I'm Paige, that's Jack and that's Claire."

"Sorry."

"What I mean is, do you like us as a band?"

"Yes," Andre answered, a little perplexed. "I saw your video on YouTube and did some research. Found out you were unsigned and loved the music on MySpace."

"Yeah, you are the third agent we have seen today," Paige told him. Claire put her head in her hands and groaned as Paige reeled off the names of the other two visitors.

"They are top names," he told her. "Interesting characters certainly. But scouts for top agencies, and they'll take you to the top in their own way, no doubt. If you have those offers, I guess I should bid you farewell."

"Sit down," Paige ordered angrily. "I threw the phone of one of them out of the window, and I threw the other one out of the flat. Let's just say I won't be signing for them."

Andre whimpered. "Right. Well. OK."

"They were nasty people."

"They were arrogant but honest," Claire corrected her and Paige crossed her arms, scowling.

"They said I should do a fake lesbian act with you and make a sex tape, or split us up," Paige snapped and she looked at Andre. "If you are about to say anything like that then you better sod off now."

"No," Andre said softly. "I represent Incredible Talents, and I gotta say, We really liked your stuff. Really liked it. It was totally incredible, guys. Great songs, guitar work good. I mean, it's not totally perfect, but I can see it doing well in the charts and... just great. I think as a group, you could do well. And if you did want a solo career, then you'll be fine too." He looked at Paige and she shook her head. "Who wrote the songs?"

"I wrote half of them," Jack replied. "Paige wrote a few."

"So that's good. I'll be honest, groups do have a tendency to split up after awhile so you got to think about that, but I would love to sign you guys up as a group." Paige smiled and looked at Jack and Claire with a smile on her face. "I do need to ask though, why sing naked? If it's a gimmick, you don't need to."

"Err..." Jack looked at Paige.

"It's not a gimmick," Paige said firmly. "I'm a naturist. I just can't sing any other way. I've tried and I just freeze up."

"Right. Well two options then, we either look to get you so are comfortable with clothes..."

"... or?"

"Well, it's not as easy, but we could have you playing to clothing-optional venues and places were the audience is receptive to nudity. Brighton beach would be good. That sort of place. Get a reputation in those sorts of places. It'll take longer, but that's what Take That did, they toured gay clubs, built up such a following, it enabled them to go mainstream."

"But Take That weren't gay?" Paige replied instantly. "Were they?"

"I am not getting into that," Andre said with raised eyebrows. "But we'd look to get you on tour supported by an album that you say you have. Get that on iTunes, maybe in the charts. Properly licensed of course. And then see where we go."

Paige looked at him and nodded. "I'm liking the sound of you," she told him, and he opened his bag to pull out a sample contract.

Paige did try to get them all to strip before continuing their discussion, reasoning that the Bare Necessities should conduct their business naked, but Andre blushed and Claire stopped Paige from being too demanding by dispatching the trouble-maker to the recording room to burn a copy of their album onto CD for him. The red-haired tease charged him £5 for the disc. "They sell like hotcakes," Paige teased, and Andre handed over the battered five-pound note.

"I think it's a bargain," he replied with a smile as Paige put the £5 note on the shelf. "I'll ring you," he promised Claire. "Get a meeting with my uncle. I think he'll be interested on getting you guys out a bit, on tour for a few venues in the summer, if you're happy with that?"

"As long as I can sing naked," Paige replied.

"I thought you'd say that; I'll tell my uncle. You up for going on tour, though? I'm only thinking of ten venues in two or three weeks."

"Yeah," Paige said and her eyes sparkled excitedly. "Definitely."

Jack nodded. "Sure," Claire added. "Let's see what happens with the contract and then, yeah, it sounds good." Andre shook the hands of the three band members and smiled at Claire as she showed him to the door.

"See," Paige told them triumphantly. "We can stay together. And going on tour, that sounds so exciting."

"Do you think you are more likely to go to number one with Andre or the other two?" Jack asked sanctimoniously. "Honestly?"

"Andre," Paige replied instantly. "Because if I was with the other two, I would have to hurt them before I could start the day. And then they'd sack me."
  13. # Chapter XII

"My demands," Harriet told him as she burst into his room. "It's OK. I had so many ideas."

Jack looked up from the bed and put his book to one side. "Demands? Oh that. You could be nice and promise to keep my secret as I have kept all of yours."

"Don't be a moron," Harriet snapped and she rubbed her scheming hands together. "You see, I thought about getting you to stripteases for my friends. We have birthdays coming up, and they'd like it, but, you see, I don't want to see you naked. Don't take it personally, but, hell, you're my brother."

"And I wouldn't do it. In fact, I won't do anything."

"Yes you will," Harriet snapped and rubbed her toe along her foot as she thought. "You see, I saw that video, and if Mum and Dad saw that, well, they'd... they'd... well they'd go mental, let's be honest here."

"I'm not being blackmailed, especially not by my baby sister, so you are wasting your time. And I don't think you will tell because it's not in your nature and you have nothing to gain from this. Unless you think our parents keeping a closer eye on what we both get up to is a good thing."

Harriet shook her head. "Keeping a closer eye on you, not me," Harriet argued and sighed. "I want you to screw over that common girl in the front."

"Paige?"

"I want to see her upset. And I know you will do it."

"Why? What's Paige done to you?"

"It's not her I hate. It's red hair," Harriet admitted. "Steve, my ex left me for a ginger slapper as they are slutty and dirty and I hate them all. I want hidden camera shots of her doing everything. Singing, dancing, eating, going to the toilet. Screwing. And then I can put it on YouTube. I want to destroy her."

"Harriet, this is silly. I am not going to help you upset my friend. Now get out of my bedroom," Jack ordered. "Out!"

"I'll tell Mum," she threatened and Jack jumped down from his bed.

"No you won't. Now get out."

"You're making a mistake," Harriet warned. "A tremendous mistake. I will tell Mum and Dad, and they will screw with you."

"Out!" Jack yelled and closed his door firmly.

* * * * *

"Hello Andre," Claire said. "Sorry, I missed your call, I was working."

"Look, I've spoken to my uncle and we are definitely interested in signing you guys up. We like your sound and we've been talking to record companies and everything."

"Excellent," Claire beamed. "That'll be great. I'm seeing Paige later. This sounds exciting."

"Yes," Andre muttered and Claire hesitated. "He did say that the whole naked thing will be a problem though."

"Ohh... why?"

"Well it's just there are many venues, and most countries that won't accept you as a naked performer. It will cause a problem for us, and as such, my uncle thinks that Paige will need to get over her fear of singing in public instead of..."

"No!" Claire cried. "Paige sings naked, that's us. I thought you knew this!"

"I do," Andre stressed. "But let's face it, the amount of venues that will have you is pretty low. So, some nudist colonies or nudist beaches, but where are you going to go after that? Strip clubs?"

Claire sighed. "We thought you understood. I thought you..."

"If you want to make money," Andre interrupted her. "Then you need to compromise. Sure, we can still get some nudist places in, but if you play some places you need to be clothed. What if we can get you onto a chat show to promote your single, what then? Now if, you want to be naked, I get you into any men's magazine you want, and they'd love au naturel pictures, but not for the day job. That's just the reality, love. You need to talk to Paige, make her see sense. I can get her counselling and..."

Claire snorted. "Well sorry then, the deal's off." Andre stammered, but Claire ended the call and then rejected Andre's attempts at calling her back, striding through the Croydon rush hour bustle to reach Paige's house.

"What's up?" Paige asked as she took her friend into her bedroom. Hazel looked down from the top bunk as she tore her eyes away from a magazine and Claire took a deep breath.

"Andre wants us to go clothed," Claire blurted out. "I mean, all the time, so I told him the deal's off."

"OK," Paige said and looked at her friend. "What now?"

"I was thinking as I came over here, why don't we just do it ourselves. I mean, all the agents we have spoken to have been useless. We got the first two gigs ourselves."

Paige nodded. "Yeah, well, it's the Summer. Must be loads of stuff out there."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Claire replied. "I've spoken to Jack and he says we can go on tour if you can. A couple of weeks, maybe three, and he can drive us and... what do you think?"

Paige beamed. "Yeah. We can use our big tent," she enthused. "Mum won't mind." Paige's eyes twinkled and she stretched. "Just one condition, we play everywhere naked."

"Of course," Claire replied. "I kinda knew that."

* * * * *

"Jack! Jack! Get down here now!"

"What?" Jack moaned and sidled down the stairs at a leisurely pace. His father sat in the front room with a newspaper on his knee and stared at his son as he came into the room.

"What did I tell you about that Baynes girl?" Jack bit his lip and looked at his sister smiling on a leather chair opposite. "Well?"

Jack shrugged. "Told me not to get involved," he added. "And I haven't."

"Oh no?" He asked. "Think again."

"I haven't. Claire and I are not an item or will ever be one." He glanced over at his sister and bit his lip as he pondered what Harriet had told his parents. "Sure, we made a bit of music together, but that's it. She doesn't even like me like that."

The veins in the neck of Paul Rees-Montague bulged. "Then why the bloody hell were you naked with her then. And what the devil is it doing on the Internet? And who the hell is that at the front?" Paul yelled, and got up from the chair. He jabbed his finger into the shoulder of Jack and passed him a tablet computer from the folds of his newspaper.

Jack simpered; he had not seen the video on the Internet and he watched for a moment as Paige delivered a fantastic solo. "It's Paige, she can't sing with her clothes on."

"What the hell has this got to do with you?"

"You bought me a studio. You encouraged me to form a band, so I have done. And Paige is the best singer this side of the river."

"Poppycock," his father cried and looked at his son. "She's flashed her bits at you, and all of the known world and you've fallen for it. She's a slut, a tart, a..."

Jack pushed his father onto his chair and raised his fist. "Don't you say that about her."

"Oh great. So you're in love with her. That's all we need."

"I'm not. She's just... a talented singer. And I enjoy making music with her."

"You are naked. Have some pride, man. Real men don't go wandering around indecent. Pull yourself together."

"It's my summer, it's my life," Jack told him forcefully. "It makes me happy. We've had agents from some big agencies come to talk to us, and we filled out pubs and..."

"You did what? On Monday you start at the factory with me," the businessman ordered. "That'll stop this nonsense. And if you are not at work on the Monday, I shall confiscate your car and your recording studio.

"But..."

"That's it, you start work on Monday at 8am. You hear? Why can't you be like your sister?"

Jack seethed and glared at the smirking Harriet peering at him. "Because I am not that evil."

* * * * *

"Jack! Jack!" Claire cried as her friend joined her in the little deli where she worked. It was her day off, but it was a good place to meet, especially as Claire made them free drinks when the manager wasn't looking, and the weary face of Jack looked across at Paige and Claire talking animatedly. "Jack, listen to this."

"Listen to what?"

"I left you a message, did you get it?"

"No. But we have..."

"Well I went and did his job. I've got us a twelve-date tour in the West Country starting in a couple of days. Some of them are no money, but all pay expenses and most are at sites, and we get free accommodation."

"And we are going to use the big tent my parents use," Paige added. "But a few we are getting fees for."

"It was simple really. I just had to point them towards our videos, and they were all delighted for us to come. And happy that we sing naked."

"Isn't this... so exciting?"

"Sit down," Claire moaned. "Standing there."

"I can't do this any more," Jack told the two girls, and they stared at him. "My parents know. My sister told them."

"Well, so what?" Paige asked.

"You don't get it. I've been told to have nothing to do with you."

"So? Are you really going to listen?"

"Well... they are my parents," Jack replied. "I sort of have to. I can't ignore them."

Paige ran her hands through her hair and shook her head. "You said you felt an enjoyment when you did this. Was that a lie?"

"No!"

"You said you wanted to help me, was that a lie?"

"No!"

"Then why is it, when we are about to do something truly incredible. A road trip: doing gigs twelve nights in twenty. Seeing the country. And you bottle it?"

"You've not met my parents."

Paige sighed. "OK. I'll meet them, and I'll tell them what I think."

"No!"

"Why are you so scared of them?"

Jack rubbed his nose. "You don't know them. No-one goes up against my father and wins. No-one. He's ruthless. And I don't want to be that person. And I certainly don't want you to be that person because he'll destroy you. It's off. I'm sorry."

Paige pushed away from the table, and Jack flinched. "I knew it. I knew I couldn't trust you. I asked you when we started, and you promised me."

"Well that was before you started insisting on doing everything naked. There's a reason why nobody else does it."

"Yeah, I know that. And I know it's a problem. But you..." She sneered down her nose at him. "You. You're weak. No, you're worse than that. You're pathetic. And that's a much bigger problem!"

"Paige!" Jack shouted, and the tearful girl turned as she reached the door. "Paige! I'm sorry."

"Yeah. And I'm sorry you haven't got the balls to be a man."

* * * * *

"You can't expect me not to say anything. You were going to bring plebs into our family. Dirty, slutty girls. I didn't want it, and Mum and Dad didn't want it." Jack ignored her, and she cooed sweetly. "I know you aren't happy, but you'll thank me for it."

"You did it out of spite. You couldn't bear to see me happy." Harriet cackled, and she shook her head.

"Oh, big brother. Is that what you think of me?"

"I know you have secrets, and I don't tell on you."

"Like what?"

"Like... everything!" Jack shouted. "Like you sneaking off last year to go to that party with your boyfriend. Like setting fire to next door's bush. Like..."

"Prove it."

Jack got up from his bed and his eyes narrowed. His arms moved wildly as he spoke venomously and angrily towards his younger sister. "I loved being in that band. It made me happy. And you had to spoil it for me. Well now, that's it. The gloves are off. If I find anything about you that I shouldn't, I'm going to use it against you. I am going to be so nasty, 'cause I hate you. I really hate you. Now do one and don't speak to me again."

Harriet laughed. "Hey, but at least it's not me that's the disappointment any more." She grinned as Jack slammed his bedroom door causing it to splinter. "See ya later, bro!" Harriet called from the other side of the bedroom door.
  14. # Chapter XIII

"I don't believe him," Paige shouted as she walked up and down the station platform. "He is such a Mummy's boy. And he's ruined everything."

"I'm sorry, Paige."

"It's not your fault. It's that privileged prat's fault. Why did I trust him? I knew something wasn't right."

"I introduced you to him. I mean, I thought he is nice enough, but that family only ever think of themselves. I thought he was different, but I guess..."

"No, he bloody wasn't." Paige kicked a discarded juice carton across the platform to bounce over the white line and onto the track, and she yelled. "How can he be so selfish? He promised us."

"It's the upper class," Claire replied angrily. "They think they are above everyone, don't they?"

"Yes. And I hate him. I want to meet him on a dark night now," she shouted and stormed back to the metal chairs where Claire was sat. She gestured angrily with her hands as she spoke. "And I want to pummel his face. I want to hurt him so much."

"Easy, Paige."

"He has ruined it. I thought, after my school talent show, when I just froze a few seconds in that I wouldn't sing in public again. Sure, there was the odd karaoke, but that didn't count, I mean singing to people. And then I met you and Jack. And that gig at the pub in the evening. With the birds and the trees. And all I thought was how I never wanted that day to end. I thought we would have loads of those." She shook her head and Claire rubbed her brow.

"Maybe we could get another keyboard player?"

"No. It wouldn't be the same. Jack's ruined it. I thought we had something. I didn't care if we didn't make it big, I just loved the band and what we did. It felt incredible."

"What about the agents we saw. One of them wanted you to split from us, why not give them a ring?"

"Because it won't be the same," Paige snapped. "I wanted... this," she said firmly. "I wanted it to be fun. If the Bare Necessities are over then it's... it's over." She looked at her friend who hummed.

"Maybe you will think differently in the morning." Their conversation was halted by a train arriving at the platform, and the two girls travelled in silence.

Claire got off the train before Paige and promised the miserable singer that she would ring while Paige got to walk home, lost in her own thoughts.

"You look as miserable as I do," Hazel told her sister as Paige opened the door and the elder sibling grunted as she slouched onto the bed. "You need to talk?"

"No," Paige muttered as tears filled her eyes. She sniffed, and her sister looked up from the laptop to see Paige turn to face the wall.

"Paige, what's happened?" Hazel asked in a concerned voice.

Paige sniffed again and then burst into sobs. "I should be packing," she cried. "My band was going on tour, but we've been abandoned." Hazel gulped as Paige burst into tears, telling Hazel how Jack had betrayed them, and the young girl sat on the bed and put her arms around her.

Hazel listened as Paige recounted the previous two hours and then nodded in agreement. "He's a bastard," Hazel agreed with her. "To do that, just as Claire got all the bookings."

Paige shrugged. "I know. I know I shouldn't have trusted him. I asked him before the agents came to see us, 'what happens if your family find out' and he was, all like, yeah I can handle it but he just lied."

"Then go on tour without him. Just go."

"We can't drive," Paige cried. "Or have the music equipment. It's over. Claire said she will cancel them all tomorrow, we aren't going. I s'pose I better go find myself a proper job," Paige mused. "Dad's been on at me to find a job so I s'pose I better go to the Job Centre."

"But at least you get to stay with me," Hazel said with a smile. "I sort of feel that I've missed my sister for the last few months." Paige's face flickered slightly, and Hazel cocked her head. "That song. Seeing that song performed and knowing you wrote it about me. Well it made me realise how much I do have someone who loves me, and I think it's helped. Really helped."

Paige snorted and dried her eyes. "Good."

"And I have a CD of that music. It helps when I feel... low."

"Good," Paige smiled. "At least the little bastard did some good then."

"But not for you," Hazel muttered and the two sisters hugged tightly.

"Doesn't matter," Paige lied and sniffed as she held Hazel. "I'll be all right tomorrow. And he better hope that I never see him again."

* * * * *

"Happy Jack left town ages ago," the female voice told him. "What does Aunty need to do to bring him back."

"You can give me some of that whisky in your hand," Jack snorted as his aunt entered the reception room in his studio. He turned to face her, and she held up a bottle.

"Vodka," she replied and sat down opposite him. "You were close. But no cigar. I saw that video."

"Oh. So you come to bollock me."

Lucinda cackled. "When have I ever done that?" Her eyes sparkled and she leant back in the chair, pointing towards him. "Well once, when you were fourteen and drank my port without sharing." Jack's face flickered and Lucinda took a swig from the bottle. "I know what it's about, tell me about them."

"What Claire and Paige? They were fantastic."

"Are fantastic," Lucinda corrected him. "They're not dead, so they are fantastic."

"OK," he snapped. "They are fantastic. They had a friendship, a partnership that was just brilliant. And I got to be part of that." His red eyes looked at his father's little sister. "It was great. It made me happy."

"Yeah, I could tell. You were smiling in that video. And that Paige, awesome voice."

"I know. And they are going on tour. If Harriet could have kept her mouth shut for two more days, I'd be all over the country going gigs. With them."

"And you wanted to go with 'em?"

Jack snorted. "Yeah. Of course. It made me happy. Alive. Like nothing I've ever felt. Incredible. It was just... me."

"Then go," Lucinda suggested forcefully. "Who cares what your father says?"

"I can't."

"You mean, you won't. You can if you want. It's only fear holding you back. He only has a hold over you 'cause you're scared of him. Sod 'im. He's nothing but a joyless bully. The sooner you realise that he only has the power over you, you choose to give him, the quicker you'll break free. He has this reputation of being all-conquering but it's bollocks." Her eyes twinkled. "I know how much you like your group. You've had a spring in ya step since I saw you with 'em."

Jack gulped. "But what about his threats?"

"Take your car or studio from you? He hasn't got the time and if you run away he can't take the car away. What else? You think he'll cut you out of the family firm?" Lucinda giggled. "A few trips 'round the country won't make him do that. And anyway, I own 50% of it after our Mum died. Why do you think he can't bully me? I let him run it because I don't want the hassle, but he knows if he upsets me, I will walk in there and mess with it. I've done it once before, and he hated me for it."

Jack looked at her as she took a gulp from the vodka. "So. What? Just leave?"

"Yeah!"

"They stormed away from me two hours ago," Jack told her. "They'll be cancelling the gigs now."

"Then ring them and stop them," Lucinda shouted at him. "Do you want this? If you want it, work for it." Her eyes narrowed. "If I get Paul and Anne and your bloody sister out for an hour or two at a restaurant tonight, will that be enough time for my favourite nephew do a runner and leave a note."

"He'll... he'll lose it."

"I hope so," Lucinda smiled. "I bloody hope so." Her eyes fell to the floor. "There was a day when he wasn't like this. He used to be... fun. And then our dad beat it out of him. And he's been a bit of a twat ever since." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I still love him, he's my brother, but that doesn't stop me from thinking he's a prat."

"But..."

"Just go and enjoy yourself," Lucinda told him as she got up. "Oh, and you have a tummy ache which is why you can't come to the restaurant." Jack bit his lip through his smile as he looked at the floor, and then looked up at his aunt. "There are plenty of things that make your miserable in this world. It's important to relish the things that don't. I just wish someone would teach that to my damn brother!"

* * * * *

"Wanna cut every copper by his f-roat, chuck 'em down watch 'em float. Kill the effers in every town, laugh at 'em when they drown. We say, F the Police. Kill the Police, F the Police. Murder them, Yeah, Yeah, Yeah."

Andre stood motionless as their latest clients screamed into the microphone at the large venue and he looked at his uncle. Greg scratched her head. "You said," the man between them shouted. "You said that they weren't offensive."

"They aren't," Greg told the organiser. "Much."

"This is an under-sixteens gig," he moaned. "We had a pro-rape song earlier." His eyes darted around the hall and watched as several of the teenagers sang along to the imaginative chorus that involved repeated expletives. "This is not acceptable, Greg."

"Yeah, I know," the agent snapped. "I will be having serious words with them."

"Yeah. And this is live on Junk FM as well. This is my name over the door. This isn't the demo tape you sent me. You know the rules, no swearing. I don't care what style they come here and do, no swearing."

"I know," Greg muttered apologetically, and his eyes squinted on the long-haired vocalist.

He screeched into the microphone and yelled. "Croy-donnnnnnnn!"

Greg shook his head. "Sorry, they are all public school educated, you know." Andre bit his fingernails as the band started their last song – Jesus Was A Homo – that made Greg and the organiser incandescent.

The agent stormed across the hall and burst into the dressing room of the punk rock band the moment they finished their set. The members of the band laughed when they saw his furious face. "What the hell was that?"

"Relax. Bit of controversy," the lead singer laughed. "Hey, who cares, eh?"

"He's my mate. And he's in such trouble tomorrow 'cause of you. And now I'm in the brown stuff."

"Hey, it'll get us on the front page," the scruffy singer told him. "Effin' relax. We just done your job for you."

Greg took a few deep breaths. "No. Tonight, we split. I'm not representing someone who will sing that barrel of filth to fourteen year olds." His eyes met the singer of the band, who cackled and shook his head.

"Then get yourself, and your little pet poodle," he shouted and pointed at Andre. "And get the hell out of here." Andre stared at him as he walked towards Greg. "After we have our money."

"Sod off," Andre shouted. "You think you are going to get paid after that?"

"I want my money," the aggressive man shouted as Greg and Andre backed away. The door was slammed in their faces, and Andre turned to his uncle.

"There is still the Bare Necessities," he offered him. "We could get them doing just naked gigs. Or a wonderkid at Crystal Palace called Keanu Rice-Sotherland."

"Oh, I've not heard of him."

"Yeah, well he is eight." Andre shrugged. "Long term investment?"

Greg groaned. "They were our big hope," he grumbled. "I need to see the bank to get us more time. I can lie about our new clients to them for the time being but we do need something. I can't keep doing it!"

"What about the soccer kid?"

"Have a word with his parents," Greg replied. "But forget the naked singer. I've not heard anything so ridiculous in all my life!"

* * * * *

Jack watched as his parents drove out of the driveway and ran back to his room. He pulled out the letter to his parents; it was succinct and clear:

Dear Dad,

By the time you get this, I will have left Croydon for a couple of weeks. The band and I are going on tour and this is what I want to do.

I know you don't approve, but we can't choose what makes us happy in life and this makes me happy.

I will be back soon.

Love, Jack.

P.S. Before you think I am the only disappointment, Harriet is addicted to cocaine and keeps her drugs in a false lid of her jewellery box.

He wondered where he should leave it and where it wouldn't be found by his sister, and after considering a range of places, decided that on his parents' bed would be the safest place.

He packed his suitcase and ran with it to the car, having closed his curtains and locked his bedroom door. He had already prepared all the musical equipment to go, and had this neatly stacked up by the door of the recording studio.

Within twenty minutes of his parents leaving, Jack was leaving the house. He tried dialling Claire and then Paige, but neither of them answered his call, just as they had refused to do so earlier in the day. He swore; he knew why they were angry at him, but how could he be expected to make amends if they refused his calls and his texts when unresponded to.

Claire slapped his face when he arrived on her doorstep. "I'm having to ring and cancel them all," she shouted from the doorway of her terraced house.

"No. We are going," he told her as he stopped her from slamming the front door with his foot. "Didn't you get my texts?"

"What texts?" Claire enquired and then hummed. "I put your number on my block list."

"Oh," Jack muttered. "OK, I'm sorry. But Paige and Aunt Lucinda were right, I am too old to be told what to do. So we are off on tour."

"I don't trust you," Claire said firmly. "You let us down."

"I know," Jack muttered. "I know that. But look in the car. My equipment and my suitcase are ready. I just need you and Paige."

"Paige won't come," Claire barked. "I can promise you now, Paige won't come. And you really don't want to go and see her, she'll tear you apart. She was all for meeting you on a dark night earlier."

"I would deserve it," Jack admitted and wiped his eyes. "I know I messed up, but I've realised I messed up and I just want to put it right." Jack gulped. "What do I need to do to convince you to come with me?" Her eyes narrowed, and she stretched her toes. "Eh?"

"OK. If Paige says yes then we will go."

"Excellent!" Jack cried.

"But she won't, 'cause she is in bits. And I am not sure you going to see her is a great idea."

"Let me deal with Paige," Jack said quickly and smiled. "Just get packed then," he demanded and ran around the parked car on her driveway to get to his vehicle. "I will go get Paige."

"Good luck with that," Claire shouted and shook her head.

Jack knew Paige was still angry with him, but there was nothing he could do, but apologise. Apology speeches raced around in his mind as he sped across Croydon to get to Selhurst. He parked his car in front of Paige's family vehicle at the back of their flat and ran through the alleyway to the High Street. He banged on the family's front door, and Hazel answered. "I need to see Paige."

"She's not in," the tall red-haired girl told him. "And she doesn't want to speak to you anyway."

"I really need to speak to her, Hazel. Please"

Hazel crossed her arms and leant against the wall in the hallway. Jack tried to see up the stairs to Paige's home, but Hazel blocked his line of sight and she shook her head. "She doesn't want to speak to you. You know, she was crying earlier. And anyone who does that to my sister..."

"I was wrong," Jack admitted. "Please, Hazel."

"It's for your own good," Hazel snapped. "If you see her now, she'll hurt you. I saw what she did to some bullies when they picked on me. Paige fights dirty."

Jack sighed. "I need to see her," he insisted. "I want to speak to her and..."

"She's upset. And she's in pieces."

Jack flinched at Hazel's words and rubbed his hands together as he thought. "I know. And it's my fault." He took a deep breath and looked at the teenager in the doorway. "OK. You know her better than anyone. If someone really, really wanted to say sorry and would do whatever it took to make things right, what would he have to do to get her to talk to him?" Hazel shifted and licked her lips. "'Cause I did a silly thing. I let myself get bullied. I was weak. But I am here, because I want to go on tour and I want to take her to Devon or Wiltshire, or wherever the hell Claire has said we are going because I enjoy being with her, and rocking with her, more than anything in the world." Hazel wiped her eyes and shook her head. "What do I have to do?"

"You could start by apologising," a voice behind Hazel said and the younger girl turned to see Paige sitting on the stairs.

"How long have you been there?" Jack asked.

"Long enough. I'm waiting!"

"OK. I am very, very sorry," Jack admitted, and Paige suppressed a smile.

"On your knees," she demanded and Jack moaned that he was in the middle of the High Street. Paige shrugged and watched as Jack got on his knees and repeated his apology. She sighed. "How can I trust you? How do I know you won't flake out on us again?"

"Because I am free of my parents. We are going in my car, I have access to my funds, and we will make money along the way. This is me. And I know you have no reason to trust me, but I am so looking forward to the next month. I want to go, which is why I am here. Claire is coming, if you'll come. It's all up to you."

Paige took a deep breath. "OK, I'll think about it. I don't know if I can trust you."

Jack clenched his fists. "We need to go now. I've run away from home. It's now, Paige." Jack told her impatiently and scrambled to his feet. "I've left home and have everything ready. I just need you and Claire."

"Go now?" Hazel moaned, and she looked at Paige, who focused on Jack.

"Hell!" Paige muttered. "You're really taking the whatnot. I don't know if I can trust you."

"I know," Jack agreed. "I know I'm being unfair but we need to go now. Claire's ready, it's just you. Please Paige, we are going to have such a great time, I just know it. I messed up but who doesn't once and awhile. Please, come with me! And I'll never break a promise again."

Paige grunted and gulped. "Yeah come on." Her eyes narrowed and she poked the gleeful Jack in the shoulder. "But you break promises again and I shall never, ever forgive you," she warned and Jack nodded. "I mean it. I will hunt you down and hurt you. Understand?"

"Yes," Jack muttered. "But come on, get ready. We need to get going!"

"You leaving me?" Hazel asked and Paige sighed.

"You can come too, if you want. As Band Manager." Hazel looked uneasy, but Paige pulled Jack into the flat and into her shared bedroom. She frantically began adding clothes and toiletries to a case, before retrieving a family tent that was neatly packed up.

Hazel hovered. "I don't think I want to go," she told her sister. "I'm not sure I'm ready to go running around the country."

"Will you be OK on your own?"

Hazel bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah. I'll be fine," she promised. "I've been feeling a lot better recently."

"Well, I'll ring," Paige promised. "And tell Mum I'll be in touch." Hazel nodded and hugged her sister. "You can manage the Croydon end of things."

Hazel giggled. "Yeah," she said and wiped her eyes. "Good luck," she called out after Paige had hugged her again, and five minutes after Jack had arrived, he was leaving with his star vocalist.

He would be collecting Claire, and then the Bare Necessities were going on tour!
  15. # Chapter XIV

While Claire had said goodbye to her startled parents, Paige's family were out when she had left – with the exception of Hazel – so the lead singer got a worried phone call from her Mum.

Claire and Jack chuckled as Paige did her best to explain that she was going on a crazy road trip with two people her parents thought she barely knew, had borrowed the tent, but that she would be back soon, and it was perfectly safe. She did not mention anything about the band or performing naked, and Claire gave her a wry smile. Paige promised to ring regularly, although she could tell her parents were worried, and Paige moaned for the next twenty miles until Jack turned on the radio. "This could be us soon," Claire remarked. "It could be us on the radio."

"It will be Paige," Jack replied. "She's the star."

"Will you stop saying that?" Paige snapped. "I am not the star. We are members of the same band when our keyboard player wants us to be, and if we succeed then we succeed together. If not, then we better enjoy ourselves trying 'cause otherwise there's no point."

Claire gave instructions to their first camp site, and location for their first gig, in a little village in Hampshire. Paige had fallen asleep on the back seat, and was leaning against Claire's suitcase while Claire and Jack talked quietly. "Thank you," she whispered to the driver.

"What for?"

"For... coming to your senses. This means a lot to Paige. And it means a lot to me. I think we are going to enjoy these few weeks."

"I hope so," Jack muttered and pulled up outside a yellow sign. "This is Four Oaks, but this is a..."

"Yeah, what?"

"It's a naturist camp site."

"Well yes, we play naked. It's the perfect audience as they will appreciate our performance."

"But... it's naturist!" Claire groaned, and Jack accelerated down the drive of the camp site. Jack tried hard not to look at the naked flesh on display as he parked the car in the tiny car park and Claire told him to wait in the vehicle.

"We are here," he told Paige, who stirred slowly. "We are at the venue. And it's a naked place."

Paige rubbed her eyes and stretched her muscles. "What does 'naked place' mean?" She looked out of the windows and yawned. "Oh, you mean a naturist resort. Yeah, then it's a naked place." Her eyes scanned the three outbuildings and looked back at Jack. "Four Oaks, right?"

"Oh, how do you know that?"

Paige smiled. "Because I know every naturist camp site in England," she boasted, and Jack turned to face her, clearly impressed. "And because it is written on that sign there."

"If I am staying here naked with you, is that worth a kiss?" Paige sucked in air through her teeth and nodded. "Please!"

"Yeah, I guess so! When we leave, not before! I want to make sure you don't get cold feet again."

Claire returned to the vehicle before he could respond and directed Jack to another tiny car park, a hundred metres from the centre of the site, and told him to park it next to "Pitch 8."

"How much was it?" Paige asked, and Claire smiled.

"Free. We are doing the set. We get a hundred pounds expenses after the gig and free pitch for two days. Which is fortunate as we weren't due to arrive until tomorrow."

"What about food?"

"There's a café on site or a pub down the road for tonight, but we could do with a kettle or something. And getting some food tomorrow."

Paige pushed the back of Claire's chair as they spoke. "Come on, let's go and get our tent up. Before we lose the light."

Jack had never put up a tent, and as he struggled with the thin material, he was dispatched back to the car to watch as Paige and Claire erected their shelter inside ten minutes in the evening twilight. Paige hammered the pegs into the ground, and they carried their bags into the big four-person tent.

"Oh..." Jack moaned as he watched Claire unfurl a sleeping bag. "I just guessed we'd be in hotel rooms, so I've not brought a sleeping bag. And I haven't got one anyway."

"Yeah, I thought about that," Paige said with a smug expression and nodded towards her bag.

"You brought a spare?"

"I brought a double." Claire laughed at Paige. "What?"

Claire sighed. "So I have to give up my sleeping bag to Jack to share the double with you?"

"I don't mind sharing with Jack. Hazel and I shared a couple of times when we were younger." Claire's eyes narrowed, and she looked at her friend. "Honestly, I don't mind. Perhaps we could take it in turns to have the single."

"Yeah, OK. Or we could stop off and get another single."

Paige's eyes fell to the floor. "We could. But I thought it'll be better to be closer." She nodded at Claire. "It's up to you two. Now can we get something to eat 'cause it's half nine in the evening and I'm starving." Jack nodded and looked at his phone; it had been on silent for three hours and he had 23 missed calls.

Something told him that his father was most displeased with him.

* * * * *

Jack felt the warm body of Paige against him as he stirred; they had gone to sleep with their backs to one another, but Paige was a restless sleeper and had turned repeatedly in the night. He was not used to sleeping in the same room as someone else, let alone the same sleeping bag, and she had disturbed him repeatedly.

He could feel her naked body heat against him, and he opened his eyes to see the side of the tent. She mumbled something and put her arm around him as she adjusted her position and Jack froze. Pressed up against his back was her bosom and he saw Claire look across at him. "You two look comfortable," she teased.

"It's snug," he replied, and his voice caused Paige to wake and stretch. "Morning."

"Yeah, morning," Paige muttered and moved her body away from her friend. "You snore," Paige moaned.

"I don't. It was Claire," Jack replied and readjusted himself in the sleeping bag. "And my neck is all sore."

Claire objected to being accused of snoring, but the three friends wandered down to the small café with their towels to get breakfast. Jack was nervous about going nude, and tried to use the cool morning as a reason to get dressed, but Paige dragged him away from the tent, and he paid for breakfast for all three of them.

They had to discuss finances as neither Paige or Claire had an excess of cash, but Jack promised to pay for the petrol – at least initially – and they would get accommodation and expenses from their first few venues, and some payment from others.

After breakfast, Claire got dressed and walked to the small convenience store in the neighbouring village. Paige and Jack offered to accompany her, but she asked for some time alone, and Paige took Jack for a naked swim in the site's tepid pool.

Jack was still openly reluctant about being naked, but as scores of families joined them in the water and as the site became awash with bare people of every shape and size, his anxieties seemed to vanish.

Paige was able to swim away from the naked rugby player easily, and her slight body gave her an agility Jack did not possess. They openly swam and played loudly in the pool, before Paige joined in a teenage game of water volleyball.

It was clear that by lunchtime, Jack was more comfortable with his surroundings, and as their dinner settled and the three of them went for a walk in the neighbouring woods, Paige began to see broad grins from her two friends. "This really is so... relaxing!" Jack surmised to his friends as they ambled down the small hill to their tent. "It's fun!"

Paige giggled and held her hand out for her friend to take. "It is," she agreed, and Claire pulled out a small bag of food when they arrived back at the tent. The pre-prepared salad with cold chicken and fizzy drink on paper plates was gratefully received by her two friends.

The three of them spent the evening playing cards in the tent before they wandered to the pavilion on site and spoke to a handful of the families. Jack was a little disturbed that a sizeable number of the campers knew who he was, and the three musicians were asked repeatedly for their autographs.

The following day was very similar and the teenagers swam in the pool, walked in the woods, before they drove Jack's car to the open field on the edge of the site where they were playing. They noticed that the site became a lot busier as a number of guests arrived in the late-afternoon and Paige joked that they had all come to see them play!

Claire spoke to the site owner, and two long power cables were provided as Jack set up the equipment and a small crowd gathered. "I saw you on the Internet," a child's voice cried as an eight year old came up to Paige.

"Did you?" Paige said with a smile, crouching down to the child's level. "Was I any good?"

"Mummy says you are a star, and I think you were OK too," the girl replied and smiled. "But I think The Wanted are better."

"Shall I let you into a secret?" Paige answered with a smile. "I think The Wanted are better too." Claire laughed behind her, and the girl ran back to her parents. "What?"

"Nothing," Claire answered as Paige grabbed the microphone and introduced herself.

Tomorrow they would be in Dorset, and the following day Cornwall, and as the assembled crowd clapped, the eight year old came and sat at the front. "Do you want to come and sing with me?" She asked, and the cheeky girl could hardly contain her excitement. "Shall we sing Hot N Cold?" The girl nodded and climbed onto the stage with Paige's help. "Hey, and I bet The Wanted don't let you do that!"

* * * * *

Paige laughed as she grabbed the microphone. "I can't believe this is a naturist site," she teased the audience. "One, two, three, four, five, six bare people and the rest of you... you're a disgrace! Back in Hampshire on Tuesday, we didn't have this. I had an eight year old on stage naked singing with me. They must be made of sterner stuff up there!"

Paige got some good-natured heckling. "It's bloody cold," a voice cried.

"Not next to these heaters, it's not." The naked Paige giggled and introduced her band before they started with Bad Reputation. Paige sang with passion and conviction, putting energy into her rock songs as she danced on stage. She took time to give a brief explanation about each song, and hauled a couple of identical twins from the audience to sing Hot N Cold, with her; it was their most well-known of covers and everyone knew the words to it.

Paige was cheeky, when she asked Jack and Claire to play their instruments, and then passed her microphone to the two sisters and walked into the audience. "I think I'm redundant," the girl joked as they the two naturist children did their best to sing Katy Perry's classic.

Paige returned to the set, to sing Don't Leave Me, a powerfully understated song that had her audience silent as they listened to her hit some very difficult notes. The band got another standing ovation and were asked to repeat a handful of songs which they were only too happy to do.

Tired, the three of them put their equipment into Jack's car and went to settle in their tent when a voice from behind the canvas dome called. "Jack, Jack!"

All three band members turned to see a naked Lucinda emerge from the shadows, and she shivered. "It's cold here."

"Lucinda!"

"You can wear something in the evenings," Claire remarked, and Jack's aunt nodded. "Ignore what Paige says, she's just a fundamentalist!"

"Yeah, I know. But I wanted to blend in." She looked at her nephew. "Your father says 'you are to return home at once and stop messing about.' I trust you have a suitable message to give back to him." She looked at the stunned faces of Claire and Paige and smiled. "One that ends in 'off' I hope."

"You can tell him that I am happy here and will be staying with my friends." He looked at Paige, clearly hoping to get approval and she nodded.

"Excellent. I hoped you'd say that." She looked across at Claire and Paige outside the spacious family tent and rubbed her hands. "Is it OK to go in? I got a tent, somewhere over there, but I wouldn't mind seeing my nephew before he leaves the site."

Jack was grateful that Paige passed his Aunt Lucinda a T-shirt to cover herself, but Paige was half the size of his aunt, and the garment had to stretch to accommodate the voluptuous woman. Lucinda sat down on the groundsheet of the tent that contained two sleeping bags and Jack spoke. "What are you doing here?"

"What, you'd rather your father came here? You posted a schedule on your webpage, Harriet found it. He wanted someone to go there and give you a rollicking. Which is me."

"But you don't want him to go home," Paige said, a little perplexed by the 47 year-old woman. "Do you?"

"Do I bollocks!" Lucinda replied. "I told him to come. But his father thinks I am on his side, not your's." Paige chuckled as Jack shook his head.

"So what was he doing?"

"Oh, and that message about Harriet. It wasn't nice."

"Yeah, but's true."

"Yeah, I know. But very sneaky. I thought my nephew had more class than that. And anyway, the thought of his heir to the family firm running away with... commoners... well let's just say that a bit of cocaine was nothing."

Jack shrugged. "She was callous to me. I just..."

"Well I thought better of my nephew," Lucinda lectured, and she sighed. "He was furious, and he blames you two." She waved her finger at Claire and Paige. "Thinks you two are harlots and are leading him astray."

"I am not!" Claire thundered, and Lucinda cocked her head.

"Then you must try harder, my dear," Lucinda teased. "Because someone's got to. So anyway, as it's a naturist venue, your father just wanted to call the Police. I don't know why he thought that was a good idea or what the rozzers would say, but I suggested that I go along and see you. To talk some sense into you."

"Right. And then tell him that I am not coming home tomorrow."

"No. I intend to stay here for a few days. I will ring him and tell him that you are considering what I am saying and then in a week's time, I'll go home. By which time you will be somewhere else. And hopefully my brother will have calmed down."

"You're staying here?" Jack asked, and she giggled.

"Oh don't look so surprised. One of my husbands was a naturist. My first husband, and the one I wished I had kept."

"Really? I didn't know you were a naturist."

"Yeah well, to be fair, I've had twelve husbands, so I've had just about every hobby and profession going." Lucinda looked at Jack's companions. "Girls, avoid doctors. Sex is just a biology lesson. Fishermen are boring. As are wine experts. I tell him to pick up a bottle on the way home and I just it's life history when he gets to the house when all I want to do is drink the bloody stuff."

"Aunty," Jack interrupted.

"Oh the naturist, young Robert. I can still see him. Married at eighteen. Divorced at twenty. Just got cut off from my social circle and he couldn't cope with the problems it caused. He ran away. There's not much naturism in the Rees-Montague world." She looked at Jack and smiled at him. "And it may happen to you. But don't let it worry you. Life's too short to let other people run it."

"He won't," Paige told her. "Well he better not. We had a chat."

"Excellent. Now, I'm off to bed, I've had a long drive down, and I have a cheeky 18 year old Speyside to have a gobble of, and I shall see you in the morning. My future stars."

"Yeah, and thank you," Jack told her.

"No worries. Anything for my favourite nephew," she said with a smile. "And when this is all over, you owe me a bottle of 25 year old firewater."

Jack laughed. "Sure."

"Something classy mind. Like a Laphroaig. I don't want any old rubbish."

* * * * *

"What's up?" Paige asked as Claire returned to their tent with an angry look in her eye.

"The music pub in Weston. They cancelled."

"Oh!" Jack moaned. "Oh well I guess we just go straight to the festival. There must be a camp site nearby for a day or two."

"No, you don't get it. They rang to cancel because of us." She crossed her arms and held out her phone. "The Police have been to see them because a member of the public has put in a complaint that they will be hosting a sex show."

"What's that got to do with us?"

"We are the sex show," Claire moaned and sighed. "The guy was genuinely sorry, but he thought that the Police would try and take his license away if he went ahead with it. So he's rang to cancel."

"But why would a member of the public care about us?" Jack asked, and Claire sighed. "I mean, who knows?"

Claire shrugged. "I know there are videos on the Internet, and I guess someone must have seen them when they put a poster up saying we were coming on Thursday. I don't know."

"But... we aren't that popular are we?"

Jack took his phone off charge from the electrical hookup and opened the browser. Paige looked over his shoulder as he navigated to the popular video sharing site and scrolled down the list of the most popular videos, and he didn't have long to go before he started seeing "Naked Band" and "Bare Necessities."

"Look! We are above Dancing Kittens," Paige cried. "Fourth most popular video this week. That's... like four million views."

Claire snatched the phone from Jack and looked at the tiny screen. "How did that happen?" The screen went black as a telephone call came through and Jack pressed "off" on his phone.

"Four million views," Claire muttered. "Hey we are famous. Or notorious."

"So that's why they cancelled."

"Are we going to have this everywhere?" Paige moaned. "Are we going to have problems just playing our music?"

Claire sighed. "Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know. I've only heard off the pub in Weston so let's hope it's a one-off."

The three of them loaded their car in silence. On one hand, them being on the front page of one of the most popular sites on the Internet was good, but at the same time, the notoriety it was bringing disadvantages.

Jack turned on the radio as they pulled away from the site, waving to the delighted owners and then accelerated down the country lane. Paige moaned when a boy band came through the speakers and pressed a button to find another station.

"And another caller, what's on your mind?"

"Not Peter Moran," Paige moaned.

"I want to talk about some filth in our society," the woman announced.

"Of course she does," Claire mocked. "Get it off." Paige went to press the button when something made her stop.

"That I am outraged by. My son saw a naked band online called The Bare Necessities, and it was clear that they are just using sex to try and sell their music." Paige laughed and looked behind her at a horrified Claire sat on the back seat of the car.

"Yes," the ex-newspaper editor announced. "I think we've all seen the clips."

"And I don't think that should be allowed. Someone should tell them to get their clothes on."

"I agree," the host announced.

Claire and Paige looked at each other ominously as the radio show host launched into a bitter tirade against them, referring to the two girls as "strumpets" and their shows "disgusting."

Jack laughed as the bitter man reached the end of his rant and looked at them. "What? We've upset Peter Moran. Come on, it means we must be doing something right? Don't you think?"

"He's a powerful man," Claire muttered.

"He's washed-up," Jack replied. "Wasn't he the one that blackmailed a child for a newspaper story or something. No-one pays any attention to him. Do they?"

* * * * *

"Paige," an excited voice shouted down the phone. "You're all over the Internet."

The lead singer laughed. "Yeah, I know."

"No. Like all over the Internet. And all my friends are talking about it. It's like... wow!"

"You sound better," her sister told the bouncy sixteen year old.

"Yeah... had a visit from the CPN. It's fine. I'm fine. But what's going on?"

"Our set was cancelled in Weston and I have been called a strumpet on the radio," she said with an upbeat lilt to her voice. "And I am now in a tiny camp site, and because it's textile I've got to wear clothes."

"Oh," Hazel muttered. "That's a bit crappy."

"Yeah. But the tour's been good. I'm really enjoying it. How's Mum and Dad, and Jeremy?"

"Mum and Dad found out about your band being naked today and started asking lots of questions. I was like, I don't know much, but they want to talk to you."

"Oh great," Paige muttered. "Claire spoke to her parents earlier, and they were well shocked about her success. Jack's parents are going mental at him."

"Mum was well excited," Hazel said in a dramatic voice. "Kept saying that you are going to be the next Whitney Houston. Dad was just shocked."

"And Jeremy?"

"He's said nothing," Hazel said and then dropped the volume of her voice. "I think he got into a fight, but he's said nothing. But 'e knows. You sure it's all fine? OK with that Jack?"

"I'm good. I told you," Paige repeated. "And Jack is fine. We've forgiven him and we are sharing a sleeping bag!" Hazel sniggered. "But Jeremy... I didn't think he would care. What's your friends said?"

Hazel hummed. "They want me to do the same. Strip in the town and sing." Paige laughed, and even Hazel gave a titter. "I've said if you go to number one, I will. Please don't get to number one."

"I won't," Paige promised. "I doubt we will even chart. Ever. But you really sound happier now."

"I am," her little sister replied. "My big sister is 'bout to be a big star."

"Everyone keeps telling me that but I'll believe it when it happens."
  16. # Chapter XV

"Hello?" Claire answered her phone after checking the number and looked across at Paige and Jack, with a raised eyebrow. "What can we do for you, Andre? It's two in the morning."

"I would like to be your agent," the man told her, and Claire put her smartphone on loudspeaker.

"Pardon?" Claire asked.

"I want to be your agent," he slurred, and she heard him shuffle. "I know we were demanding and unfair, but I do love your music." Claire looked at Paige who slowly shook her head. "And I know you're still unsigned, so please, let me work with you."

"We aren't too convinced," Claire announced. "And it's 2am. What the hell is going on?"

"OK. I'll be honest. If we don't get your signature, then I'm finished. My uncle and me. We've been around for decades, but we've lost some key clients, and we've had a bit of a... er... well a bit of a setback with some new artists. And bank need us to have new clients. And so we seriously need your business, and I really liked you."

Claire hummed, but Paige sat up and looked at the phone. "Us signing with you should be good for, like, both of us. Not just to stop you going bankrupt!"

"Is that Paige?" Andre asked. "I know I said some things, but I think you guys are going to be huge."

"Thanks to Claire," Paige reminded him. "I don't think we need an agent. Claire's got it all sorted. But we do need some sleep, so good night."

"I... I... look I've got some favours to call in. It honestly would be last roll of the dice for my uncle and me. And we'd throw everything at you." Paige gulped. "I'm begging. Please. At least meet with me and hear me out. I really would work extremely hard for you. It'd be you and just you."

Claire stared at Paige and Jack. Paige rubbed her eyes and swore. "Why now? Why... I don't get it."

"Can we call you back?" Claire asked.

"Yeah, like when the Sun thing is in the sky and not the moon."

They heard a sniff from the end of the telephone and a grunt. "Yeah OK."

There was silence as Claire pushed the "red" button on her smartphone. "He's got a bloody cheek," Jack proclaimed angrily as Claire's phone went dark and the only light source in the tent disappeared. "A real cheek. To say that and to ring us."

Claire sighed and rubbed the back of her hair. "You know, I think Paige could do with an agent."

"But he's... he's pub football in the park not Premier League. He's amateur hour. But it's up to Paige."

"Excellent. Then I say, let's go to sleep."

"Paige," Claire moaned.

"So it's not up to me?" Paige replied and looked behind her. "The agent thing is up to all of us. I don't know. I am not sure if I want an agent at all, but if I am going to have one then he's less... bossy... than the other ones."

"There's something wrong with him," Jack replied. "Paige deserves better."

"Will you stop saying that?" The talented singer snapped into the darkness. "It's about us, not me."

"Well, if we want to make it big, then we need to get into the MP3 stores like iTunes and Amazon and stuff. We need a video shot and..."

"And we don't want to give 8%," Jack added. "He can sod right off."

"What then. 1%?"

"No higher than 2.5," Jack countered. "And what about merchandise?"

"Can't we discuss this when I am awake," Paige moaned, and Claire lay back down in her sleeping bag.

"It's just..." Claire muttered into the darkness.

"What?" Jack asked.

"Well, he seems quite desperate tonight."

"We could get a better deal, you mean."

"Absolutely," Claire replied. "Perhaps if..."

"Perhaps if you two want to share the double sleeping bag if you want to talk business at 2am in the sodding morning," Paige snapped. "And seriously Jack, if you want to discuss business, please don't get a stiffy and stick it in my bloody back as you cuddle up to me."

"Cuddle, eh?" Claire teased. "Hey, that could start a rumour." Paige snorted. "Well you two have shared the double sleeping bag all trip," she teased.

"I am too tired for this discussion," Paige moaned. "OK. Do we have to do Andre now?"

"Yes," Claire said excitedly. While Claire was keen to enlist the help of the agent, they had decided on a maximum commission, and a set of demands that Claire was only too happy to ring him to discuss.

"We are not prepared to pay eight percent," she told him. "We are viewing it at considerably less than that. We want our songs and album on iTunes, and we want a video," she demanded from the weary man. "Oh, and we want to discuss it with you in 36 hours time."

"Sure, I'll set up a meeting in our office."

"In our office," Claire said to a snigger from her band mates. "It's a green tent in a camp site." Andre groaned. "If you hadn't had been so awkward from the start then this wouldn't be necessary," Claire reminded him. "Do we have an agreement?"

"Yeah," he grunted, and Claire promised to ring him in the morning with directions to where they would be.

* * * * *

Claire giggled as she grabbed Jack's hand. "Where's Paige?"

"She is over there," she replied and pointed to a craft stall. They were not used to seeing Paige dressed, but they were at a festival and had to be clothed – at least until their performance.

The organisers had subtly asked Claire whether they could be clothed for their show as they had been spoken to by the local Police who were keen to "keep the peace," but Claire reminded them that they were the "Bare Necessities" and the audience would expect them to be unclothed.

The harassed-looking woman disappeared before returning and demanding that Claire and Paige take to the stage with their genitals covered. "You can be topless," the woman told her. "But you can't go on naked."

Claire hummed. "If we say we can't get dressed, you won't let us on stage?"

"We will not let you on stage undressed," Claire was told. She looked at Jack who was listening in.

"Sure," Jack told her. "We can do."

"Can we?"

"Yeah," Jack told her. "I can promise you that none of us will go onto the stage undressed." The woman gave a sigh of relief.

"Thank you. You don't know what pressure we've been under. Some talk show host and some Christian group have encouraged people to write into us for giving you a platform, and now the Police have come to see us. We've never had this before, but... well you are a little controversial."

"What's Paige going to say?" Claire snapped the moment the lady had left their vicinity. "She is going to flip."

"I never said we would remain clothed," Jack replied. "Listen to what she said. We can't go on naked, so we won't."

Claire's expression changed. "Cheeky," she giggled. "OK, I like. I like a lot."

"Good," Jack muttered.

"Ahh look, sleeping bags. Singles," Claire pointed out as they meandered down an aisle of stalls.

Jack muttered. "I quite like sharing."

"I bet you do."

"No, it's nice. It's like having a cuddly hot-water bottle." Claire burst out laughing, and Jack grinned mischievously. "I am not giving that up for anything."

"OK. What about this, wind chimes?"

"We haven't anywhere to hang them," Jack moaned. "And they are not going in my car."

"Herbal car fresheners?" Claire teased. "Or what about this. Tattoos and piercings."

Jack shook his head, and Claire smirked. "I've always wanted my belly button pierced."

"Well go on then," Jack told her. "I'll wait."

"I don't want to do it on my own."

"Well I don't want anything pierced!"

She pursed her lips and batted her eyelids. "For me! I thought proper rockers loved tats and piercings? Have a tattoo."

"Well I am not a proper rocker then!" Claire shrugged and scowled. "Sorry, I don't like those places. Go with Paige." She frowned and moaned, but they walked on, bought a drink from the bar, and Jack tried some home-made chilli jam that caused him to splutter. "Are you annoyed with me?" Jack asked Claire as they meandered back towards their tent.

"No," Claire snapped. "Not really."

"Then... why the face?"

"Nothing," she replied and then looked at him. "OK, come in with me to have my belly button pierced. I don't expect you to have anything done, but come with me. Please."

Jack snorted. "They aren't clean."

"It'll be fine. Let's at least look." Claire grabbed Jack by the arm and guided him towards the little tattooist to have her navel pierced. Jack watched and held onto Claire's hand as she flinched when the piercing was made and was resolute that no part of his body was to going to be a playground for the tattooist's talents, despite encouragement from his band-mate.

Claire openly admired her little metal bar that adorned her teenage body and Jack had to admit it looked good on her before they left. "I bet Paige wants one now," he told her. "And I never had you down to get a piercing."

"If I can play the guitar naked in front of thousands of people then I can have a bit of my body pierced," she replied and flashed him a smile.

* * * * *

Claire was late walking onto the stage, by which time the crowd were noisy and excited. "What bloody time do you call this?" Paige asked her into her microphone with a smile. Both of the girls were topless but were wearing white knickers.

"I was going for a wee," Claire shouted back and reached for her own microphone. "Did you go?"

"No, I just wee on the front row," Paige teased as the crowd giggled. "If you think it's raining later, well sorry!" The audience at the small festival appreciated her joke, and she clapped her hands together and looked out over the thousand-strong audience. "Big shout out to Stroud. This is the biggest audience we've ever played to, and we hope you enjoy it!"

Claire looked at her colleague and then nodded. "The organisers of the festival have demanded that we do not perform naked," Claire announced. "Do you think this right or not?"

Paige held the microphone out to the crowd as a small volley of boos came from the festivalgoers. "Is that a yes or a no?" Paige asked and received a deafening sound of disapproval. "We better get naked then?" Paige replied, and all three of them took off their clothing and threw it to one side. They saw the furious glance of the festival organisers at the back of the crowd, but Claire just waved at them.

"We didn't go on stage naked," Claire shouted to them with a smile. The naked Paige looked at Jack and Claire, and Jack started his introduction to Don't Leave Me. The small festival soon filled, and the Bare Necessities found themselves playing in front of a much larger crowd as the audience swelled.

They were a late addition to the line-up and were not on the posters advertising the festival. Claire had managed to get them as a warm-up act on a small stage in the mid-afternoon after a Scottish rock band had cancelled at the last moment, but as word spread that the Internet sensations were performing live, their admirers could not fit in the area assigned to them.

Paige could see the ever increasing numbers of people joining them and tried to get a few people to strip naked; the festival was not a clothing-optional site, but Paige promised that they would do an encore for as long as the festival organisers would allow if a dozen people stripped.

There was laughter, reticence and then nervousness as the demanding girl wandered up and down the stage, offering encouragement to various attendees who looked undecided. "Come on," she told a teenage girl. "You can come and join me on stage!" The guy behind her hollered and Paige pointed at him. "And you, sir."

Paige managed to get a number of people down to their underpants and the odd drunken patron to strip naked, and she started singing again. The festival organisers didn't object as the Bare Necessities overshot their allotted time by more than two hours, and as the band left the stage, Paige and her band mates received a raucous cheer.

The band got dressed, and Jack opened the boot to his car that was parked a few metres away. They had a couple of guys from the festival to help, but they loaded their equipment in the car while the musicians that followed them got set up. Paige had time for a little chat with them and was amazed at how well known she appeared to be.

"Watch out," Claire muttered as two of the festival organisers strode over to the car, slipping in the churned up earth.

"What the hell was that?" The woman asked. "You promised us, you wouldn't be naked."

"We promised you, we wouldn't go on stage naked," Claire corrected her. "And we didn't. And we asked our audience if it was OK to perform like that and they said it was fine."

The scowling woman crossed her arms. "We should have cut you off," she spat.

"And then you would have had hundreds of angry people," Jack reminded her.

"We made a promise to the Police and you have broken that. They will be furious." Paige sneered in derision. "You are now banned from Stroud Festival," she told them. "And we will not be paying you."

"Hang on," Jack told her. "We did three hours of music straight. We filled our stage. We..."

"Get out!" She hissed. "Or we will call the Police."

"You haven't heard the last of this," Claire warned her, and the three band members got into their car and, under the watchful eye of the organiser, drove into the service road, and out through the back of the estate to travel to a small hostel thirty-five miles away.

Paige was angry at their treatment, but didn't care too much about not being paid. "It was a massive audience," she told them. "It shows we are popular."

"And if we put on the website we were thrown out of Stroud, that'll get us notoriety," Claire suggested.

"We don't want notoriety," Paige replied. "Do we? We've enough of that."

"No, well what could be better than being thrown out of a festival for being naked? That's awesome!"

Jack slowed on the country road and go around the bend and accelerated onto the straight when a car flashed its lights in his mirror. He ignored it, but the car flashed its lights again and again. A blue flashing light appeared, and Jack swore. "Might have a light out," he moaned and slowed his vehicle to stop in a passing place.

The Policeman got out of the car and strode up towards Jack's vehicle. Jack opened his window. "What's up officer?"

"Paige Simmons, Claire Baynes, Jack Rees-Montague. I am arresting you contrary to the Sexual Offences Act 2003. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioning something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say will be written down and may be used as evidence against you. Do you understand?"

"Yeah," Claire muttered and looked at Paige, stunned.

"What the hell have we done?" Paige asked but was hauled out of the car before anything was explained to her.
  17. # Chapter XVI

"I need my belt," Jack moaned. "Keep my trousers up."

"After what you've been doing tonight, that should be the least of your worries." Jack reluctantly passed the wisecracking Sergeant his black leather belt and Paige smirked at him. "Cell six."

"I'll get us a lawyer," Jack promised the two girls as he was led away and Paige was pushed forward.

"Name?"

"You know my name," Paige told him with a scowl. "I was arrested, and the office knew my name."

"She's an awkward one, Sarge."

Paige's scowl deepened. "Perhaps I would be less awkward if I hadn't just been arrested and have no idea why." The desk sergeant looked back at her and repeated his question. "Paige. Paige Simmons. Now can someone tell me what the hell is going on? He said sexual offences, but I ain't touched nobody."

"Address?"

"Why? I'm not going home, you're sticking me in a cell and I don't know why." The sergeant tapped the desk and Paige sighed before responding angrily with her address.

"Date of birth?"

"Why do you need this? You are not going to send me a bloody birthday card. Now what the hell is going on?" Paige asked with a snort.

"Listen missy, the quicker we get you in, the quicker you can get out. So quit with the bloody smart-arse comments." Paige sneered and allowed herself to be "booked in" and taken to a cell. She refused access to a solicitor as she had "done nothing wrong" and had no desire to let anyone know she had been arrested. She kicked the cell door in anger and sat down on the thin mat in the corner of the room.

Racist and sexist graffiti adorned the cell and she took to reading some of it before sitting back on her mat. She looked at the door and took off her T-shirt, shorts and underwear before putting her shoes on – the floor did not look like she could trust it to be free of sharp edges.

Paige waited, thoroughly bored; why should they have been singled out for this treatment? She had a vague idea that the festival organisers had made a complaint, but they were on private land and could have stopped their show when they were in the middle of their performance. Surely, if they were that outraged they would have done something at the time instead of waiting for hours? Surely not paying them was a greater offence than a naked band playing without any clothes?

Paige kicked the wall and sat back down on the bed, thoroughly annoyed with the state. "When are you going to let us go?" Paige shouted at the door but got no answer.

An hour later, the door was opened, and the custody Sergeant groaned. "Get your clothes on, love."

"Why? It's my right to be naked when I want to rest."

"And it's my right to keep you here for 36 hours if I want to, so it's up to you. Get dressed and we can let you go, or don't, and you can stay here. You got five minutes."

Paige grunted and put her clothes back on and walked with the Sergeant to the small "booking-in" room. Jack was threading his belt back through his trousers, and Paige nodded. "What took you so long?"

"Had to get dressed," Paige replied. She saw smiles on the faces of her friends and looked at the Sergeant.

"You are free to go," he told her. He shrugged and passed her some forms to sign, including an inventory of her personal possessions. "You were on completely private property, and... well it's not in our interests to press charges."

"You mean, it won't stick." Paige snapped and crossed her arms. "So we got dragged ten miles here plus kept for like, three hours, and we haven't done anything wrong."

"We had reasonable suspicion a crime had been committed," the Sergeant replied with a stoic face. "And so we are duty bound to investigate."

"And harass," Claire added. "This has been ridiculous."

"You haven't heard the last of this," Paige warned, and was passed a leaflet about how to make a complaint to the Police, but she snatched her personal effects and strode angrily out of the room.

"I told my Dad," he admitted. "And he said he would get a solicitor to phone the station and have words with them. I guess that might have frightened them a bit."

"Really?" Claire asked. "Wow. I didn't want to spend all night there. Look at me, I'm shaking." She yawned and they strode out into the Police car park.

"Paige. Claire. Jack. Is it true that you were arrested?" A voice asked, and they flinched when they saw camera bulbs go off. "Have you been charged? Will you be denying it? When is it in court? Is it true that..."

"Quick," Jack cried and unlocked his car. "We better get to a hotel!"

Paige smiled at the three members of the press. "Yes, we were arrested and released," she said with a grin. "Flaming liberties, harassing naturists like that. They want shooting!"

"Paige," Claire called. "Stop telling the press you are hacked off and let's go!"

* * * * *

"It stops now," Paul shouted and crossed his arms. He glared at Paige and Claire listening in as their keyboardist's father strode up and down their hotel bedroom. "Getting arrested with two tarts."

"Oi," Claire and Paige cried in unison. "We are not tarts," Paige added.

Paul crossed his arms and pointed to the naked Paige. "Double bed, naked, do me a favour?"

"Why do people always believe that nudity is about sex?" Paige asked Claire, but Jack's father was not listening to her.

"Now, I have told you to come back, and you ignored me. If you do not come back, I shall torch your recording studio."

"Why?" Paige asked him. "We are famous. Our music is popular. Why do you hate us so much?"

"Because you are cheap scum," Paul spat back, and Claire put her hand on Paige's shoulder.

"That's not fair," Jack shouted and jumped up from the bed. "We are enjoying ourselves, and making some music at the same time. There is nothing wrong with us at all."

"Flaunting yourself is wrong. And it's against the law."

"Actually..." Paige started.

"You are only free because I know some very good and very expensive lawyers," Paul interrupted and jabbed his finger into the shoulder of his only son. "I am going home tomorrow, and you are coming home with me."

"I don't want to," Jack muttered.

The balding man swelled and clenched his fists. "I don't bloody care what you want. This madness has gone on long enough. You are coming home with me."

"Can we have this discussion tomorrow?" Claire asked as she yawned. "It's midnight and talking about this at this time is madness."

"You would do well to shut up," he snapped. "I'll put your mother out of work if you don't let me speak to my son."

"You what?" Claire cried, and Paige had to hold her friend's shoulder. "You can't..."

He sneered at her. "I know what you've been up to. Disgusting little girl..."

"I think we better continue this in the morning," Jack suggested as he looked at Claire's face.

Paul glared at the two girls, and Paige crossed the room and put her arm through Jack's. "Come on. Come to bed," she cooed and gave a grin to Paul. "We've had a long day. I really, really, really need a cuddle."

Paul shuddered as he became lost for words, swore and told Jack that he would be back at 9am.

Jack flinched as the door slammed. "What do you do that for?" He asked, pushing Paige away from him. "He's even madder now."

"Yeah well. He was getting on my nerves," Paige replied instantly. "Why do you let him bully you?"

"I don't," Jack replied. "He just thinks he knows best, and it's hard to argue." He shrugged. "And you don't need me, do you? I mean, you are superstars now. I am not needed."

"You are," Paige and Claire told him together.

"Don't think you can get away from us that easily," Paige cried. "You made me a promise. Jack, you promised me. You promised us. You can't leave us."

He sighed and sat on the single bed. "I don't know. What would you do Claire? I know what Paige would do."

Claire hummed while Paige objected to the generalisation and the guitarist looked at him. "I would do whatever makes you happiest," she replied. "And I think Lucinda would say the same. And I would certainly want to finish the tour."

He looked at Paige. "I know exactly what would make me happy, but not quite sure how to say it."

"I'm happy to go see him and tell him to do one," Paige said with a grin. "Or we could do a runner now and leave a note in our place."

Jack yawned. "No. I'll face him tomorrow," he murmured. "I at least owe him that."

"You owe him a kick up the khyber," Paige snapped.

* * * * *

"I am staying here," Jack told his father as the girls listened in from the bathroom. "Well actually we are going to a naturist site near Oxford, but I want to stay with Paige and Claire."

Paul took a few deep breaths. "What's got into you, man? This isn't a future. So you make the odd quid as a novelty act. Where's the long-term in that?"

"It makes me happy," he told him. "I enjoy it. And if I can't enjoy life now, when can I do it?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Now pack your things and let's get out of here."

"I am staying," Jack said firmly. Paul tried to grab hold of his son, but Jack shook himself free of the grip. "Leave me alone."

"Those girls are nothing, but cheap, tacky..." Jack pushed his father to stop him and yelled.

"They are my friends," he thundered. "They are good, nice people. And we are enjoying ourselves. And so what if it's not long-term. I'm having a great time, and we are entertaining a lot of people."

Paul gulped. "Are you really telling me that you would give up a place on the family firm, a chance to run a multimillion pound company for a few weeks touring with a couple of sluts?"

"I guess he is," Paige said as she opened the door. "And I think the time has come for you to sling yer 'ook." Jack gulped, and Paige looked at him. "Isn't that right?"

"Yes," Jack muttered as Paige squeezed his hand. "I am a musician, not a businessman."

Paul spluttered. "This has nothing to do with you," he told the red-haired girl. "Nothing. And you'd be wise to shut..."

"Out," Paige interrupted loudly and pointed at the door. "Get out! You're seriously winding me up. Go!"

Paul scowled at Paige's gleeful taunting and snorted. "This isn't over," he shouted, and then left the room, slamming the door as he departed.

Paige turned to Jack. "Well done," the red-haired teenager told him and kissed him on the cheek. "Present. For growing a pair. Eighteen years after you should have done but well done anyway."

"How is it, that all your compliments are always put-downs?" Jack asked her and Paige just shrugged.

"You wouldn't have her any other way," Claire teased with a smirk. "Would you?"

"I guess not!"

* * * * *

"Who the hell are these people?" Jack whispered, and Claire shrugged.

"I don't know."

The three musicians looked out of the hotel reception to see a small army of people waiting outside the hotel, and the receptionist looked coy. "They've been there since 6am," she told them and shrugged. "I know who you are."

"Us?" Jack asked. "What about us?"

"I know you are the Bare Necessities and that you were arrested last night. It was on the news." Claire swore when she turned to see the large television screen in the hotel lobby and saw her face as they the left the Police station on the rolling news channel. "And one of the lead items on the news sites."

"Wow!" Jack cried. "Who cares about us?" The receptionist wiped her face and then looked at Paige.

"I know it's a bit silly but can I have a picture?" She looked hopeful and when Paige gave a bemused "yes," the receptionist passed her mobile phone to Jack and almost ran around the desk to stand next to the lead singer.

Jack took a handful of pictures and put the phone on the open page of the guest book. "So they are journos?"

"Yes," the receptionist added excitedly. "They wanted to know what room you were in and all sorts." The noise behind the pane of glass separating the hotel from the outside world became deafening, and Jack shrugged. "But I told them if they came into the hotel I would break their legs." She giggled. "I'm a black belt in karate."

Jack smiled. "Cheers. I guess we gotta go sometime," he summarised and held his arms out. "Let's go face the bastards." Claire and Paige took one hand each, and they walked confidently to the exit. "And Paige, no talking. You can't tease them like you teased my Dad."

"Spoil my fun," Paige muttered. Outside the hotel was one film crew and dozens of photographers, all of whom were spurred into action as the three musicians opened the door.

Paige flinched as light bulbs flashed in her face and Jack squeezed her hand. The pack of journalists surged towards them, and the three teenagers froze as the noisy assembly of journalists shouted questions at the band. "Wait," Claire cried and gulped. "Please. What do you want with us?"

Jack whispered to Paige. "What do we do?"

"I dunno," Paige muttered as the deafening array of questions started, that none of them could not hear properly.

Jack sighed. "Please!" He said authoritatively. "Please. We want to make a short statement."

"We do?" Paige muttered and looked at Claire.

Claire gulped as the noise died down. Jack held his hand out and took a deep breath. "It is true that we were arrested last night and detained for over two hours as the Police sought to establish the legitimacy of our performance at the Stroud Festival. They had received a complaint and acted quickly and hastily to detain us, unreasonably so. We are understandably very angry about their conduct and are considering further action." He glanced over the heads of the press and saw his father watching him from his car. "We have all long wanted to perform and make music and have found the last few weeks to be surreal. We will keep making music, and performing bare, we are doing nothing wrong and we would be grateful if other Police forces acted more reasonably."

He looked at Paige and Claire who nodded. "Yeah," they muttered.

"Now we are off to the Oak Valley Naturist Camp site for our next date. No more questions. Excuse me please."

* * * * *

"Welcome, welcome," Paige said in a cheesy voice. "It's the world's least obnoxious agent."

Andre gulped and entered the tent. "Hiya Paige. You good?"

"Don't try and get around me with small talk," she teased and looked at Claire. "Why is he clothed. It's a naturist park for goodness sake."

"He's a visitor," Claire reminded her friend.

"But a..." Paige grumbled as Claire shot her a look and Paige budged up to allow Claire to sit down with her companion.

Andre put his hand out to shake the three members of the group and Paige only shook his hand once Jack had given her a little dig in the ribs. "Now, I have been busy for you and I notice from your website schedule that after this camp site, you have over a week off until your next gig in London. Am I right?"

"Yes," Claire replied and Andre smiled. "Assuming we don't get arrested!"

Andre laughed. "I have two things lined up. A video to be shot in Burnham Beeches. It's near Heathrow. I have a director I know, he's not busy and a film crew. It'll be cheap, but I can get it produced. He wants Don't Hate Us."

"A video?" Paige cooed. "Doing what?"

"Well, he thinks Paige naked running through the woods and meeting up with you two in a... umm... oh... clearing, I s'pose. We would only have him for one or two days, but it'll be enough time. It'll be cheap, but MTV won't run it 'til the watershed anyway. The video and the album I can get onto iTunes and every site. Shops are proving a bit more difficult as they want to pay peanuts in royalties. But I am working on that. We can get some good photos tomorrow when you are at Burnham."

"OK. Sounds good on that point," Claire told him.

"Yeah, and I have a television channel lined up. Daytime chat show. Want one of you to defend your performances."

"Right," Jack scowled. "That better be Paige."

"Better be you," Paige replied. "You handled the newspaper people well good."

Jack shrugged. "OK. Maybe. Up for discussion."

"Well it doesn't have to happen, it's just something I got lined up, as agreed. Waiting on you, that one."

"And the last was on the commission," Claire reminded him. Andre sniffed.

"My uncle said not to go anywhere near your figures," he said firmly. "We have a living to make."

"And we would have signed at eight percent if you hadn't have insulted us," Paige reminded the agent and crossed her arms and legs. "You broke some trust."

"But ..." Andre sighed. "If I was to say six could we do a deal."

"How about three," Claire suggested and Andre shook his head.

"I really can't do three, I'll get killed at six."

Claire looked at her two band members and Paige's eyes narrowed. "Five?"

Andre blew air through his lips. "OK. Five. But I am so dead when I go to London."

"Don't go," Claire told him. "Stay for a day, 'round here."

"Well I did bring my tent in case you didn't agree this tonight," he explained. "But I am not a naturist so I will probably check into a hotel." He crossed some text out on two bundles of paper and amended them with ink and passed one bundle to Paige who passed it to Jack and Claire.

Paige reasoned she wouldn't understand it and just allowed her two friends to read the text. Jack asked a few questions, and they had the notice period reduced from one year to one month. "We are a new band," Jack explained. "And with some familial pressures."

"OK. But after a year, it goes back up to a year's notice," Andre argued. After half-an-hour of discussion, Jack signed both Andre's copy and the band's copy, followed by Claire.

"I'm not signing it," Paige said awkwardly, and everyone looked at her.

"But..."

"We are nudist band, he is on a naturist camp site. I will sign it after he has stayed the night and been for a swim. Without those clothes."

"But that's forcing our beliefs onto Andre," Claire barked. "That's wrong."

"No. All I am saying, is how can he be our spokesman and representative if he doesn't understand why we do what we do?" Claire shook her head, but Paige got up from the tent. "That's my decision," she said firmly and held out her hand. "Fancy a swim Jack? It's six o' clock. Just time for a quick splash 'til it gets too cold."

"Sure," he muttered. "I'll meet you down by the pool," he promised, and Claire just sighed.

"She's a brilliant singer," Claire explained to Andre. "A fantastic person, just stubborn. And very unpredictable."

Andre sniffed. "Yeah, I got that."

"Do you want any help putting up a tent?" Jack offered, but Claire shook her head.

"I'll help him," she promised. "That's not a problem. Go swim with Paige. And try and get her to change her mind. She listens to you." Jack snorted. "Well sometimes she does."

* * * * *

"Sit down," the tall man ordered and his employee sat down on the couch in the living room of the large house. "You know my son is... umm... gallivanting around the country in the nude with your daughter," Paul told Claire's mother. "And I can't get him to come back. I sent my sister, I've phoned him, and I've spoke to him and he won't come."

Teri nodded. "I know." She looked at her hands and rubbed them together. "I have spoken to Claire. But she says he wants to stay and... we're shocked."

"Yes, me too." Paul told her and rubbed his forehead. "'Cause we know your daughter has been trying to seduce him."

"Seduce him?" Teri asked.

"Oh yes. Proper trying it on. Anne caught them a few months ago. And that girl they are with. Claire's friend, Paige. She's been selling drugs to my daughter. Harriet's confessed all. And they are sharing double beds. It's not on."

"Paige? Really!" Teri muttered and shook her head. "I'm so... sorry! I had no idea. She seems such a lovely girl."

"Right, well. I want my son back here," Paul demanded. "And I know Claire is the key to this. She put him up to it, she introduced him to Paige, and she's got him doing this ridiculous and outrageous jaunt."

"Well Claire said it was..."

"I don't care what Claire said," Paul shouted. "It's your bloody daughter that's caused all these problems. I want my son back now."

"I will tell her to pass on your wishes."

Paul sneered. "Oh no. Because you are fired, until Claire returns and Jack is in this house again."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me. You are fired until my Jack is returned."

"Fired? But I can't control my daughter," Teri sobbed. "She's eighteen, and I've been here for years."

Paul shrugged. "Then you better get your daughter back to Surrey pretty sharpish," he snapped and rubbed his furrowed brow. "Your daughter might want to flaunt herself, but my son should not." He straightened his shirt. "He has a place at my firm."
  18. # Chapter XVII

Paige yawned. "You're not tired, surely?" Andre asked and then introduced the three of them to the director.

"Sorry, I didn't get much sleep last night." Paige looked accusingly at Jack who shrugged. "Someone was snoring."

"Me? That's..."

"Shall we get on," Claire suggested before Jack could hurl any accusations in her direction.

The bald-headed director nodded. "Good idea. We've only got a day to film, and it's tough." He looked at Andre who was the "gopher" and then turned to his two companions. Barry was firm, assertive and clear; he showed the band the storyboard for their Don't Hate Us video and when Claire wanted to change it, calmly explained that while she had "a cracking idea," they did not have the time or money to shoot her much improved suggestion.

Paige stripped in the cool weather; it was the coldest day for weeks and she shivered in the wind as it whistled between the trees. Barry told Paige to walk aggressively and animatedly barefoot through the wood, singing as she went – although he promised her that they would use the studio recorded version of their song for the audio track.

It took several takes as Paige kept getting needles in her feet and would stop, so Andre had to clear the small path of anything other than mud for the shoot.

At lunchtime, their agent was dispatched to acquire food, and in the afternoon they filmed the second half of the video with Paige joining her two colleagues in the middle of a clearing. The director was concerned about lighting, and they had a couple of battery powered floodlights, but this meant they only had a small period to film the second half of their music video, and they felt a bit rushed.

At the end of the song, Paige tossed her microphone to Claire and strode away from the group with exaggerated hand gestures as if she was annoyed with them.

"Will that do?" Paige asked as the director called 'cut.'

"One more time," Barry replied as he looked at the cameraman. "I got a guy coming in for the rest of the week to edit, and I want to give him some stuff to play with."

"Fine," Paige called, and they returned to the clearing to film again. For Jack and Claire it was weird to be "playing" their instruments as they weren't plugged into a power source so made little noise, but the Director wasn't bothered; he had the audio track from when they recorded it in the studio and the video was just for show.

As evening approached, the three drove to a small camp site just outside Heathrow and Claire cooked up a weird concoction of peas, beans and pasta for tea. "It's hardly haute cuisine," Jack teased as he finished Claire's creation.

"You always bitch about the food," Claire moaned and passed the pots to Jack. "So you can clear up."

"I always clear up," he moaned.

"Excellent," Paige cried. "Then you've had plenty of practice! You can do that while I have a shower," Paige demanded as she got up and showed Jack and Claire her feet. They were black from the filming and the unpredictable singer smiled at the guitarist. "You going to join me? I hate going on my own on textile sites."

* * * * *

"We're on the radio again," Jack called excitedly as he came into their tent with a small white device. They had chosen to have a day's holiday and rest at a little camp site in Surrey before going to see Andre and then visiting their families.

"What do you mean? Airplay?"

"No," Jack scoffed and put his radio on the floor. "Peter bloody Moran. We are really getting his goat!"

"... And of course, they are a harmful influence, by being rebels like this, they are encouraging teenagers to go naked. Already there has been naked sit-ins in London, and we blame this silly fad on them. Why they think we want to see them without any clothes on. I mean, have some dignity, kids," the voice ranted.

The female voice agreed with him. "It's outrageous," she told him.

"And no offence, but that Claire, who wants to see her naked? She's fat, whoever told her that she should get naked needs to go to Specsavers." The man laughed as he taunted the curvy musician. "And that Paige is cheap scum." Jack went to turn off the radio, but Paige knocked his hand away.

"Leave it," she whispered to Jack and rubbed the knee of Claire. "And don't worry what he says. He's the scum."

"Yeah," Claire muttered and wiped her eyes.

"I've banned the group in our house. Now the parents must take some of the blame. What sort of education have they given their kids? It's a disgrace, I don't know of anyone in the media who find their gimmicks appropriate. They are cheap and disgusting and..."

Jack pushed Paige's hand away and turned off the radio. "That's enough of that," he told her. "It's just Peter Moran. No-one listens to him."

"About two million people listen to him," Claire replied with tears forming in her eyes.

"It's just him being stupid. He'll move onto someone else in a few days. It's nothing."

"Yeah, storm in a teacup," Jack added. "Nothing to worry about, eh?"

"It wasn't you, he called fat," Claire spat with tears in her eyes.

"No, I was scum," Paige snapped. "Would you rather be scum?" Claire shook her head and wiped her eyes. "I am not scum and you aren't fat," Paige said in a soft voice. "You've got a nice body. Hell, you've got bigger tits than me and nice curves and... so what if a prat on the radio says he doesn't like us. We don't like him."

Claire snorted. "I'm going to get some air," she said and got up. Paige watched her leave and went with her, but Claire sent her back to the tent.

"She used to be anorexic," Paige explained to Jack. "So being called fat is pretty low."

"Oh," Jack replied and put his head in his hands. "You know, there is a really simple way out of this.

"Don't let the bastards win," Paige spat. "I want to get that Peter bloody Moran and knock 'im into next week. Don't you?" Paige's eyes narrowed, and she pointed out of the tent. "Our bandmate is really upset 'cause of what he says. Don't you feel anything?"

"Yeah," Jack told her. "But I don't want all the upset and fighting. And neither does Claire."

"Guess it's just me then," Paige told him. "Because there is no way someone gets to do that to my friends or my family. If he wants a fight, he can have one."

"Paige, you can't win this one."

"Just watch me! 'Cause I play dirty. I thought my sister told you that."

"You can't win this one. And he'll destroy you if you try." Paige snarled and crossed her arms. "Promise me you won't do something stupid. Or rash."

"Sure," Paige replied airily, but her mind was already starting to whirr with possibilities.

* * * * *

Andre tapped his office desk as they three stars walked in. "My favourite clients," he said when he saw them.

"Your only clients," Claire teased, and Andre shrugged. "But hey, that's good. No-one else to compete with for your attention. No Uncle?"

"He's at the bank," Andre told them. "And I am the one working full-time on your account! Come in, I have a video to show you."

Andre waited for the three teenagers to be seated and turned on the large television screen behind them. He swore as he tried to connect the DVD player and jabbed his finger, but eventually, a blue screen appeared and then Paige's head emerged from behind the tree.

The music started, and Paige stepped out and started walking towards the camera, gesturing wildly with her arms. When it reached the chorus, she "kicked" the camera causing the camera to point towards the trees and then refocus on a clearing where Paige and the rest of the band were playing.

Paige thought it was a good video. It may have lacked the blockbuster production of top artists, but it was fun, upbeat and fit in with their fast-paced song, as well as their cheeky persona, exceptionally well.

"You like?"

The three of them looked at each other. "It's good," Paige muttered and nodded.

"Bit late if you don't," Andre replied with a coy smile as he crossed the room to sit down on his chair. "We've finished filming. It needs a few extra tweaks. I've also licensed the three covers you made." He looked at Claire. "You said you hadn't licensed them, so I've done that."

"Right."

"Yes, that's done, and the album, song, and video all hit the shelves tomorrow."

"Wow! You have been busy," Claire replied, clearly impressed, and he looked at the black-haired girl with a smile on his face.

"I have. But..." He muttered, and Paige looked at Claire.

"But you two have been talking every day, right?" Paige asked.

Claire nodded. "Yeah. Well, we do need to talk. And you two are always off doing something." Her tone wasn't accusatory, but both Jack and Paige objected to her inference.

"And it does show that I don't need to be naked, Paige, to understand you."

"I would say that you've done a very good job," the lead singer admitted. "And that's only been possible because I got you naked that night. Don't deny it!"

The agent did deny Paige's assertion, but he ran through some requests he had received for them and, with the meeting concluded, shook their hands as they left. The three of them walked in silence to Jack's car; they were about to see their families for the first time in weeks.

* * * * *

"Hiya Mum," Claire called into the house. "Dad? George?" She heard a sound and looked up the stairs to see her Mum on the landing.

"Claire? Oh, you're home." Claire held her arms out, and her mother almost fell down the staircase to greet her daughter. "We've missed you."

"Yeah... and I've missed you. But we've had a great time and..."

"I know. I saw the news." Her mother's expression changed, and she hugged the eighteen-year-old.

"Ahh yeah that," Claire muttered meekly; her phone calls home had dried up as their notoriety had risen. "But we have an agent now. And a proper video and a single in the charts."

Her mother bit her lip. "That's good," she told her. "Really good."

"What?" Claire asked. "What is it?"

"Nothing," her mother told her, and Claire pushed her away to stare at her in the eye. "OK. I lost my job because of you and Jack going out."

"What? There is no me and Jack. Paul said something 'bout this when he came to see Jack, what's me got to do with it?"

Teri Baynes groaned. "Because Paul and Anna think you led Jack into this and that he is running around naked because of you."

"But that's not true," Claire snarled. "That's totally not true. It was more Paige than me."

"I know, look, it doesn't matter. I've had some interviews but..."

"But what?"

"Well Paul told one family who offered me a job that I had been sacked for stealing and..."

"The little sod," Claire exclaimed and then had to apologise for her language. "This isn't on." Claire picked up her phone and dialled a number.

"Don't," her mother begged. "Now that you are back it should be better."

Claire hummed. "We aren't splitting up," Claire told. "This is just the beginning."

"Claire, please," Teri pleaded, but Claire put the phone to her ear to talk to Jack.

* * * * *

The figure of Suzanne Simmons loomed over Paige, and she bit her lip. "Hi Mum."

"Come here," she cried and hugged her daughter with tears in her eyes. "We're so proud of you."

"You don't... you don't... care about it?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No, I don't care. But Dad. Well Dad's not quite so happy."

"No?"

"Well," she hesitated. "He always keeps his naturism a bit secret and now he can't. Everyone knows and he's had some awkward questions."

"Where is he?"

"He is helping with the repairs at the clubhouse. Staying for a couple of nights." Paige sighed.

"I don't want him to be angry with me," she said eventually, and her mother squeezed her again.

"I think you are doing so well. And did you hear that bloody guy on the radio."

"Yeah," Paige muttered. "I am going to deal with him, later." Paige sat down and had lunch with her mother, brother and sister, before getting her coat. "I'll be two hours, or thereabouts," she said. "Just got someone to see. On the radio."

"Paige," her mother warned. "Don't do anything stupid."

"I won't," Paige promised. "But listen to Peter Moran's show. It might get interesting."

"I doubt it," her mother replied and shook her head. "It never does."

"Well this time, it might," Paige suggested. "Maybe. Maybe they might have an interesting guest."

Her mother's eyes narrowed as her daughter rose from the dining table. "I want to come," Hazel asked, and she picked her coat from the rack. "I want to."

Paige objected – she was certain she would be arrested – but Hazel was determined and the two of them walked down the road to the little station for trains to London.

Paige settled on the seat of the empty train and looked around her. "Used to being recognised?" Hazel asked. "Autograph-hunters?"

"I have not given a single autograph for days," Paige told her. "Not a single one. Don't know what to read into that!" Hazel smiled. "I also don't know what to make of the way you are so happy after I left to go around the country?"

Hazel shrugged. "I dunno." She pursed her lips together. "All my friends are like, wow, your sister's a big star. And I..."

"And you what?"

"I keep on being asked about you. 'Bout you doing all this. Well it's good 'cause you are being yourself and enjoying yourself and not doing what other people want. Proper Girl Power not just silly magazine hype."

"Yeah, I know," Paige replied. "I've never done what other people have told me to."

"No. You have never have! And you don't seem to get pressure like me. I seem to get so much crap off people. And I just couldn't deal with me."

Paige sucked in air through her teeth and sniffed. "You've never told me why you did, what you did."

Hazel swept her hair behind her ears and rubbed her nose. "I don't know. I just felt so alone, so trapped, so on my own. And it was a way out. I didn't want to do what people tried to force me to do. It was... well you don't care what people think of you, do you?"

"Hell no," Paige replied with a smile. "And I keep trying to get you to do the same."

Hazel snorted and the two sisters got to talk as their train speared its way through South London before the two sisters got off at the main station. "You don't have to come," Paige told her, but Hazel just giggled.

"I wanna see this. I think I know what you are going to do."

Paige strode into the big atrium of the radio station and walked past the receptionist. "Excuse me!" The young lady called, but Paige ignored her and caught the door to the stairs as someone walked out of it. She looked behind her to see the smiling face of Hazel running to keep up. The two sisters walked up three storeys and pushed open a door entitled "Radio London Studio 4."

A couple of people sat with headphones on their ears, and Paige looked through a glass window at the balding figure of Peter Moran. "Wait here," Paige told her sister firmly.

"What's this?" The two people cried. "Who are you? You can't go in there."

Paige heard a noise behind her, but ignored it and pushed open the door where the talk show host was talking and sat down next to him. He froze. "... and I'm sorry listeners, but we have quite a bit of a shock here. We have some intruders and..."

Paige raised her eyebrows and picked up headphones abandoned on the console in front of her. "You've been speaking about me, I think it's only fair I'm given a chance to defend myself." She couldn't hear her voice come through the headphones as the microphone next to her was not live. "Turn my mike on." He hesitated, and she repeated her demands. "Or are you too scared of talking to me."

"No," he muttered and waved at two people in the booth through the window and a jingle appeared through her headphones. "Get out. This is an outrage."

"No," Paige shouted and he gestured towards the people in the booth. "I want to answer some of your criticisms. This show is sold all over the country." He clicked his fingers and pointed at Paige as the jingle came to an end.

"I am sorry to report listeners that we still have an intruder in the studio who is refusing to leave and has been threatening me."

"I have not," shouted Paige into Peter's microphone. "I want to know..."

"I apologise for this interruption, and we will try and restore some calmness to the studio as soon as possible." Paige leant over and spoke into Peter's microphone.

"This is Paige Simmons, from The Bare Necessities, and I am here to answer some of the lies that this man has been saying about us and is too afraid of debate, he won't turn my microphone on."

"That's not true," Peter moaned. "It's..."

"Well turn it on," Paige demanded and crossed her arms. "I am not abusive, or threatening. Just want to reply to some of the silliness, that's all." Paige looked across and saw a man burst into the studio and grab hold of Hazel. "And can you please tell your oversized brutes to stop hitting my sixteen year-old sister? Leave her alone, this is assault, this is a disgrace. We came here to talk to you about the lies you keep spouting."

There was a moment's hesitation as Peter gestured to his helpers on the other side of the glass and Hazel was freed from the man's clutches.

"Good," Paige snapped. "Before you start, I would like to say, that I think calling an ex-anorexic girl who is perfectly averagely sized, she's a size eight by the way... calling her fat, is heartless and cruel. There is nothing wrong with Claire or Claire's figure, and your comments on it were hurtful and unfair," Paige told him, reciting the line she had been working on all morning. "It's bang out of order."

"She is not a size eight, love," Peter Moran joked, but Paige stuck to her guns.

"She is. But what if she wasn't?" Paige asked. "Are you really so shallow that you would base your opinions on someone for being overweight? I mean, you are hardly tidy yourself."

"I base my opinions on you because of what you do. You flaunt yourselves."

"We are naturists, have you tried naturism?"

He snorted. "It's immoral to go flaunting yourself like that. And people don't want to see it."

"Have you tried naturism?" Paige asked aggressively. Peter Moran floundered and Paige asked again.

"No," he admitted. "But..."

"If you had, you would know how good naturism is. We are one of the most popular topics on the 'net. Some people do want to see us, and those that don't, shouldn't go looking." The host snorted. "And anyway. I think there is a greater immorality in blackmailing a child to gain a minor story on a minor celebrity. Which is why you were fired from your job as editor."

Peter Moran's eyes narrowed. "This is not about me," he hissed. "And we were doing some investigative journalism. I was cleared of any wrongdoing."

"Yeah... right!" Paige smiled and rubbed her hands, openly goading the host to open the telephone lines for callers.

She got a number of questions from listeners asking why she sang naked, or why she couldn't wear clothes, as well as asking what happened when she was arrested. "What do your families say?" A caller asked. "I would be so embarrassed if it was my children."

"Well, my Dad's not angry, but he's less than delighted, but has accepted it as my choice. Claire's parents are fine," Paige replied. "And Jack's family hasn't accepted it at all. But we expected that, and we are being successful, and we aren't getting drunk every night, or doing drugs, or committing crimes. We are performing without any clothes on. And I am not going to name any names, but there is at least one virgin in the group, so we are not even at 'it' either. We are just having a bit of fun, being normal teenagers, making music. I really don't see why all the complaints."

"Because you are offending a lot of very good people," Peter Moran added. "We had the head of Christian Outrage where you are sat, and she was beside herself with fury. And your MP, Percy Kirkpatrick has said how disappointed he is that the people most associated with his constituency are immoral exhibitionists."

Paige gulped. "I can't make them see reason. But there are far worse people out there, and to be offended by the human body, well, it's a disgrace frankly," she muttered.

She looked Peter Moran in the eye who picked up a tabloid newspaper. "And what about these stories?" He asked and smirked. "Just today two talent agents have come forward to complain about your behaviour as they tried to sign you. How you got angry and threw this guy's brand new mobile phone out of the window and how you assaulted another one."

Paige shook her head. "That's not true. Well not totally true." She ran her hands through her hair as she thought. "The first guy tried to get me to do a sex tape with Claire to give us some newspaper coverage. And I refused so he got nasty." Paige's eyes narrowed. "And despite what you, and everyone else thinks of me, my sexual affairs are private. As I keep telling anyone who doesn't know, naturism is not about sex, or flaunting yourself. It's about a sense of a freedom that no textile... sorry, non-naturist... will ever be able to understand."

Peter listened but shook his head. "No-one appears to believe you though. It's just a gimmick."

"No, that's not true. Jack reckons some people are too cynical as they believe that it's just a pre-planned marketing stunt, but it isn't. We are what you see."

Peter went to respond but he glanced up and saw his helpers frantically waving at him. "Well it's been... interesting... Miss Simmons. But that's all we got time for, it's three o' clock, time for the news." He pressed a button to play the pre-recorded news segment and Paige got up from the seat.

"I've done what I wanted to do," Paige told him, and he gave a weak smile.

"Most people don't barge into my studios," he told her. "Most people just book with the station. It's very unclassy to hijack my show."

Paige chortled. "How classy is it to blackmail an eight year old? Or taunt an anorexic about her weight?" She asked as she opened the door to her sister. "Call me 'scum' all you like and I'll ignore you. But have a go at Claire like that again, and I will come after you." She threatened him. "And as you can see, I'm not most people. I don't play by the rules."

"You don't frighten me," Peter laughed and tapped his fingers on the desk. "You can't threaten me."

"No?" Paige asked with raised eyebrows. "Can't I? Then watch me. You really don't want to make an enemy out of me. I fight dirty." Paige shut the door before Peter could respond and she nodded towards Hazel. "Let's go home."
  19. # Chapter XVIII

Jack approached his home with trepidation. He knew that his father was still furious with him but also felt that the house marked a part of his past he didn't want to reopen. Every time he imagined walking up the drive, he was reminded of places where he had kissed Ellie or had tried to live up to his father's expectations of who he should grow into.

Jack opened the gate with his keyfob and had to park next to the garage; there was a removals van in the driveway, and he walked around it. "Hey," he called to Aunt Lucinda. Dad moving my stuff out already?"

"No," Lucinda cried as she guided the removals men. "I have my own place now. Divorce settlement came through." Her face flickered.

"Oh. Excellent, I guess."

"Jack," the excited voice of his mother cried. "Oh you've come home, I knew you wouldn't last there. What happened?"

"I'm only home for a few days," Jack told her and straightened his T-shirt as his mother bounded down the stairs to face him.

"Oh my God. Look at the state of your clothes. They are filthy. And look at you. Oh my God. When was the last time you had a shower. Or... this is disgusting!"

"Mum. I'm fine. I've spent most of the last three weeks camping. You should try it, it's fun."

"Anna, calm down. Camping's nothing to be scared of, it's the thing that poor people do, when they can't afford a hotel," Lucinda joked, but Anna shook her head.

"Come inside," his mother demanded and Jack had to avoid a few men, carrying a table, that Lucinda had employed to help her move. "Paul," she called out. "Jack's home."

The balding figure of his father appeared from his study, and a smirk flashed across his face. "Knew it wouldn't be too long."

"I am not staying," Jack told him. "Well, I am going again. We have songs in the charts and we..."

Paul's face dropped and he scowled angrily. "For Christ's sake, man. When are you going to grow up?"

"You mean when am I going to do what you demand?" Jack shook his head. "I'm not. I spoke to Paige lots about this, and she thinks I need to break free, and I think she is right. I am not twelve any more. This is my choice, and this is me. I love being part of the band, and I loved playing at the festivals and gigs. It was freedom. I'm not a businessman, I can't run your factory, and I won't be following in your footsteps. OK? So I don't want to hear any more about it."

Paul's eyes fizzed and sparkled, and he clenched his fists. "You will..."

"I won't," Jack said calmly and ran his hands through his fair hair. "Really I won't. And I know you don't like it, but I take after my Aunty more than you. Harriet's the businesswoman. Give her the family firm, and she'll be the son you never had."

There was silence as Paul simmered and shook. "I will not have a son of mine doing such ridiculous things over the country. Being naked in public, it's a disgrace."

"Yeah, you've said that, but when are you going to let me live my life and not yours?"

There was a few moment's silence that was only punctuated as Jack's phone rang. He answered it when he saw Claire's name flash on his phone's display. He glared at his father, as his friend and him had a few seconds worth of conversation, that was just long enough for Claire to explain about her mother's predicament.

"Teri lost her job because you blame Claire?" Jack thundered and Paul gulped. "Did you sack her because of me?"

"Yes," he admitted. "But it's for your own good, Jack."

"And did you stop her from getting re-employed?"

"Ahh well," Paul prevaricated.

"Did you?" Jack shouted and clenched his fists. "Yes or no?"

"I am your father and you will..." Paul started, but Jack grabbed his father by his collar and threw him against the wallpapered wall with a thud.

"Did you?"

"I only did what was best," Paul told him. "And..."

"Bollocks!" Jack shouted. "You think that denying my friend's family a livelihood is for the best? That's evil."

"When you stopped doing the silly thing with the band she can have her job back, and that's it."

Jack gave a few deep breaths and shook his head. "I can't believe you would do that. Do you really hate me that much?"

"It's for your own good," he was told again. "And if you stay here, then it stops. There will be no more of this madness."

"What?"

"If you want to stay here, then the band ends tonight. And you do not see them again."

"So I have to move out if I don't want to break up the band?" Jack asked aggressively with a sneer, and Paul nodded.

"Then move in with me," Lucinda suggested from the end of the room.

"Pardon?" Jack asked, swivelling his body to see her.

"Move in with me. I have a big house as well. My ex was a hedge fund manager and let's just say, he lost the house in the divorce. I don't mind you staying in the band. In fact, I quite like it."

Paul glared at his little sister who smiled sweetly at him. "This doesn't concern you."

"Oh but it does," Lucinda responded. "I told you that if you kept tormenting my nephew I would take action. So I think I should be arranging to come into the factory where you can introduce me as co-manager."

"Now, come on, we had a deal."

"You're right," Lucinda told him. "We did. Leave Jack alone and I would leave the factory alone. But instead you broke it so I can break my end of the bargain." She smiled sweetly. "Simples!"

"You can't do this," he told her. "All the times I have been there for you."

Lucinda stopped one of her removal people and pointed at Jack. "I might have another bedroom and a recording studio to go as well." She smiled and turned to her brother. "I know. And I am grateful. But now I am being there for Jack. One day when you see sense, you will be grateful I stopped you from managing to destroy your relationship with your son." Paul snorted.

"He needs his parents to show what a mistake he's making."

Lucinda shook his head. "He's eighteen. He can make his own decisions. "And on the subject of mistakes, I think I will be going to go through the factory accounts to see if there is any deadwood we can cut. Just to make sure, you are not making any mistakes. Unless you see reason."

Paul threw his glass of whisky against the skirting-board at the end of the hall. "Bloody do what you want," he shouted as the glass shattered. "Jack, just do what you want," he yelled and looked at Lucinda. "But you better go nowhere near that place," he warned his sister.

"I'll think about it," she replied, and watched as he stormed into his office and slammed the door. She looked at the teenage man. "Do you want to stay here or do you want to move in with me?"

Jack stared at the broken whisky tumbler for a few seconds. "I better not stay here," he muttered and sighed. "Do you mind?"

"'Course not!" Lucinda cried. "Let's get packing!"

* * * * *

"And with me in the studio is Jack Rees-Montague, founder and keyboard player with Bare Necessities..." There was equal amounts of cheering and booing as the camera panned around the small television studio and caught sight of Jack. "Peter Moran, radio host and journalist, and Sue Garratt, founder member of the activist group, Christian Outrage." Jack smiled, and the host continued. "Jack, your act is just a marketing gimmick isn't it?" There was a large amount of clapping from the audience and Jack tried to smile at the antagonistic host.

"Absolutely not," he said firmly. "The thing that most people fail to understand is that both Claire and Paige are naturists. They like to be naked, at home, on holiday and when they are enjoying themselves. We recorded the music naked and Paige can't sing anywhere near as well unless she is free and unrestrained. It's not a marketing thing at all and..."

"Well that's not true. Those first videos on the Internet were shot so that your nudity was clear."

"Actually, Peter," Jack said as he turned to face him. "We did not put those videos online and we did not authorise them." Peter snorted in disbelief and Jack shook his head. "I think your years in the tabloid press have served to make you cynical," he said, trying to provoke the former editor. "I know some people don't like us, I know some people think we are wrong, but I can honestly say that the power I get from being naked, the freedom and the rush is incredible. And I really like it. We have a fan base, but that transcends all ages, races and religions."

"I am telling you now that you just decided to be naturist just to sell records. It's the way the music industry is going and people are sick and tired of marketing always being about sex. We live in an oversexualised culture, and people are fed up with it."

"I agree," the elderly leader of Christian Outrage told the partisan crowd, who cheered her every word. "I have families coming to me saying that they can't allow their children to use the computer in case they stumble across the filth peddled by him over there." She jabbed her finger towards Jack.

Jack was stunned. "Well, I... er... sort of agree about the culture. We do live an oversexualised society, but we are not guilty of anything. There is no sex with us, it's not about sex. I have slept in the same tent as two naked, exceedingly attractive young ladies for most of the last month, and all I have got is a peck on the cheek. It's not about lust or eroticness, or anything like that. It's about personal freedom and choice. And what you have just done is to assume that because we are naked then sex must be involved, and it's not true." There was a muted round of applause from the audience and Jack turned to Sue Garratt. "And if your congregation are concerned about the Internet then there is far worse material on the 'net than what has been uploaded of us."

The opening exchanges set the tone for the full ninety minutes as the two other guests ganged up to condemn Jack and his friends. Jack was resolute and answered questions from the audience and the objections from the two complainants confidently before being asked if they were continuing.

"Of course," he replied with a smirk.

"Even after the entire audience has booed you?" Sue asked him tersely.

"The entire audience didn't," Jack responded. "A few did. But we knew we might polarise opinion, and we have done. But a large number of people like us. We sell out our gigs and get lots of hits of the 'net. And a lot of people tell us that we are right. There is bigotry in the Police, in the media and in certain groups that oppose us, and they like to criticise us by reading things into our motives that aren't there. What we are doing, is nothing to be ashamed of."

Sue crossed her arms. "It's against the Lord's teachings."

"That's as may be," Jack said with a grin. "But you have shared a platform with someone who blackmailed a child and taunted an anorexic. As Paige highlighted, in her own way, on his show. Is that not against the Lord's teachings too?"

"I do not condone Peter's behaviour, but he apologised for his conduct. Will you apologise and repent for your immoral actions?"

"But it's not immoral. And we want to do it, and there is nothing anyone can do to stop us."

"We'll see about that!"

* * * * *

Paige picked up her bag and held out her hands towards her worried sister. "What's wrong now?"

"Can't find my make-up," Hazel moaned.

"Well come on, we haven't got much time. Jack'll be waiting for us." Hazel swept the contents of the living room table onto the floor and then ran past Paige to go to their shared bedroom.

The overweight figure of Jeremy appeared in the room and rubbed his face, flinching as he did. Paige's eyes narrowed as she focused on the bruised and cut face of her fourteen year-old brother. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," he spat. "Just..."

"What walked into a door?" Paige asked. "'Cause if you did, that door can fight."

"OK, I got involved in a fight," Jeremy snapped and slammed his bedroom door.

"Got it!" Hazel told her, and then had to search for her phone. Paige asked her sister about Jeremy, but Jack was waiting for them in a red minibus.

"Where's the car?"

Jack grinned. "It's Lucinda. Well I'm living with her now. When she got divorced, she got the house and he got the central London flat. Dad and I had a row, so I am living with her, and she bought me the van. Wants to get it sprayed with our logo next week."

"But we don't have a logo," Paige replied with a confused look on her face, as she climbed into the front of the vehicle.

"Yeah. We need one apparently. Lucinda thinks that we will have groupies and T-shirts and everything. I think she thinks we are global superstars." Hazel squeezed in next to her sister and Jack started the vehicle. He drove slowly to Claire's house as he was not used to manoeuvring something so large through the streets of busy south London.

Claire squealed with excitement when she saw it. "Have you sold your car?" She asked as she climbed in behind Jack. "This is so cool."

"No, I've still got the BMW," Jack giggled, and took a moment to explain about Lucinda, and then drove to the agreed location just outside London in a large field of maize.

Sweet Love was a song that Jack wrote; a fast, powerful rock song with plenty of guitar riffs and a high energy vocal track. It was one of Paige's favourite songs from the album and had been one of the more downloaded tracks from the Internet.

"I got this as a massive favour," Andre told them. "The farmer has allowed us to film in his field as long as we pay for any damage." He eyes narrowed, and he coughed. "He went to school with my Dad. He's my godfather. And... errr... well he wants an autograph for his kids."

"Kids?" Paige asked.

"Well... they are only a bit younger than me." Paige sighed; they were probably going to be older than her and not "kids" but "adults." They waited for the film crew to arrive, and Andre sat with Claire explaining the concept that had been sold to them; Claire and her friends had already agreed to the storyboard, but Andre discussed it as they waited.

Hazel talked to Paige and Jack, and when Barry and his team arrived, Hazel listened intently. It was exciting, and Paige tried to get her involved, but her sister declined; public exhibitionism was too far for her and she promised to help Andre as a "gopher" instead.

The video consisted of Paige, Jack and Claire diving naked into the maize and then appearing, so one or more of them was at the camera at any point. Paige sang along to the music, that played as a reference guide, but she knew that they were not recording sound.

The "story" of the video consisted of Paige trying to get to Jack, and at the end had to almost rugby tackle him into the crop.

She giggled as she tackled him the first time before teasing. "Just like sharing a sleeping bag." Hazel hovered around the filming, performing errands and talking to Andre, before the four of them left as evening approached.

Their videos were cheaply made, but they already had a fan base, and most of the music video channels wouldn't show nudity until after the watershed, so it made little sense in spending a lot of time or money on them. "And anyway," Andre told Hazel when she asked. "OK Go was the most watched music video in 2006 and they made that on a hundred bucks."

"Who's OK Go?" Hazel asked.

"Philistine," the agent moaned. "Ask your sister. She'll know."

"Bloody don't," Paige replied with a smile and reached for Jack's smartphone. "Need to borrow this."

"And you said you knew about music," Andre teased with a smirk.

* * * * *

"You made an effort," the almost naked Paige cried as Jack led her into the dining room of his aunt's house. "A real effort."

"Yes," Jack replied, blushing. "But Aunt Lucinda is out for the evening. Something about a wine tasting evening followed by a whisky tasting evening..."

"... Followed by a liver transplant," Paige finished for him.

"Yeah. And so I thought I'd invite you around."

"Without Claire?" Jack hummed, and Paige smiled. "It's OK, I sort of like you." Jack was only wearing a bow tie and pulled out a chair containing a towel. The table was set out with tablecloths, candles and decorations. "You know, it's not a normal request. Please strip in the hallway."

Jack chortled. "With anyone else I would have got a slap, with you, I just got a naked young lady!" Paige smiled and Jack returned with a chilled bottle of wine, pouring a small amount into Paige's glass. She looked at him. "What?"

"Try it."

"It's wine." She gulped it down and shrugged. "White wine."

"It's a very nice wine," he told her and filled her glass to the top. "It's a Prager Achleiten. Lucinda loves it, but she's always had very expensive taste." He filled his glass up and then returned from the kitchen with two bowls of carrot and coriander soup. Paige sniffed it and smiled.

"I didn't know you were a cook," she told him. "All that time when you moaned about Claire's cooking and..."

"I had a bit of help," he admitted. "But I did most of it myself. I used to cook for me and Ellie all the time."

Paige picked up a spoon, and Jack had to stop her. "The soup spoon is this round one."

"Does it matter?" Paige asked with a smile. "A spoon's a spoon, right?"

Jack looked at the naked red-haired girl and smiled. "No," he admitted and swapped his soup spoon for his dessert spoon. "I guess not."

"So what am I doing here? I guess this isn't a date as you had loads of time to hit on me when we were touring and didn't."

Jack stumbled over his words. "No. It's not that. It's... I like spending time with you and I know Claire is out tonight. She has a 'commitment' which I think is Claire-speak for a date, and I know you've got nothing on."

"I never have anything on if I can get away with it!" Paige joked and flaunted her naked body, causing Jack to giggle.

"Well I thought we could have a nice meal, watch a film and curl up in a sleeping bag," he asked. "And then I'll drive you home or get a taxi." Paige's smile flickered, and Jack bit his lip.

"OK," Paige muttered and blew on her hot soup. "I don't think Claire does have a date. She just has family things to do." Jack nodded and Paige looked up at him. "So, what do you make of our success?" Paige asked, changing the subject. Jack snorted and raised his eyebrows.

"I don't know how much money we are making, but I can't help feeling that we could be really successful, and it's such fun. You make everything fun and Claire is such a laugh, and I think I've got it made."

"What about Peter Moran?"

"Who cares 'bout them. I loved your little stunt, going to his radio show. You nailed him good and proper. I liked that. And the way you annihilated him on Claire. It's good."

"Yeah, she rang me that night, was well taken with it." Paige slurped the last of her soup and looked at her companion for the evening. "And you said I couldn't win."

"It's only half-time," Jack reminded her. "But yeah, I was surprised at how well you backed him into a corner."

"And I saw you on TV. Andre told me to watch. You nailed that Christian bitch good and proper."

Jack blushed and murmured into his soup. "Cheers."

"Tell me. Are you glad that I didn't do what you said and walk away from the group when those agents came calling?"

"Yes," Jack admitted. "I can't explain how excited I feel about... stuff now. It was crap six months ago. Did I tell you that Ellie rang me? She and Ian have split up and wants us to get back together."

"I hope you told her where to go."

"Of course I did," Jack snapped. "I don't want to see her again. I've moved on. But it felt so good telling her that." Paige watched him and he shrugged. "I said a few other things as well and it just came pouring out of me. Don't know where it all came from."

"Good," Paige muttered. "She didn't sound like a nice person."

"No. Not like you or Claire. And both of you are prettier and better musicians. And..." Jack blushed as Paige grinned at him.

"Someone'll hear you, and they'll think you're in love."

Jack opened his mouth and then closed it again, before clearing up the plates and passing Paige a salmon salad as a "fish course," followed by fillet steak with a peppercorn sauce, a cheese selection and then a raspberry Pavlova.

"This wine is way too sweet," Paige moaned.

"It's a dessert wine," Jack replied and poured her out a coffee.

"Right. Well I prefer the other one." Jack smiled and rubbed his eyes. "You don't need to make it so obvious that I embarrass you at times," she grumbled. "I do know it. But I didn't grow up with all this finery. Dad's always worked long hours, when we used to live in Croydon we never saw him, and at eight, I moved to the little flat above a shop. Times have always been hard for us, so we don't have many different wines, or multiple courses. Hell, if we had yoghurts after our dinner that was a luxury."

"Yoghurts?" Jack wondered.

"Yes, and I know this sounds stupid, but I'm not from your world and you make it so obvious that..."

"I don't," Jack moaned, and Paige waved her hands around the house.

"Look at this place, I could never afford to live here." Jack raised his eyebrows at her. "We won't make that much money from our music. And you have grown up a world away from me."

"I know," Jack muttered. "But that means nothing. I have embraced what you hold dear – naturism, for example. And I never mean to make you feel bad. I wouldn't." Paige scratched her nose. "Meeting you was one of the best things that ever happened to me. If I hadn't, then I would be at the factory trying to follow in my Dad's footsteps instead of making great music with two talented friends." Paige blushed, and he held out his hand. "I've got a great film to watch if you want to. It's called Juno."

"Seen it," Paige replied instantly. "But it's a good film, I'll watch it again." Jack walked into the lounge and picked up the DVD.

"I've got some popcorn to do if you want."

"I couldn't eat another thing," Paige moaned. "Have you got a TV in your room?" She and Jack nodded. "And a double bed and duvet?"

"Yeah."

"Then come on then," Paige said, grabbing him by the hand. "You're not getting laid, but you might get a goodnight kiss," she teased. "Come on it's Friday, live a little. See if this 'great friend' is going to cuddle up to you."

Jack could only laugh at Paige's drunken expression. "It'll be like we are on tour again!"

* * * * *

"Where are we going?" Paige moaned. "It's like, 7am in the morning. And a Sunday. I am sure it's illegal to get me and Hazel up at this time of the morning." The two sisters yawned and stretched.

"Getting ourselves on the front of the newspapers," Claire replied. "That's why Jack has brought his video camera."

"I am not becoming a suicide bomber, I told you that! I'm far too pretty to be blown up." Jack laughed and giggled at Paige stretching out on the chairs of the minibus.

"It's that Sue Garratt. She came out in favour of the Russian President and Church and stuff on Friday." Paige shrugged.

"What?"

"Pussy Riot. Don't you ever read the news?"

"No," Paige sneered. "What a stupid thing to say. It's just boring and..."

"Oh shut up!" Claire snapped and sighed, before explaining who Pussy Riot were and what had happened, in a biased and partisan manner. "So, we are going to pay Christian Outrage a visit. At their church. Especially after what she said on Peter Moran's show yesterday. Weren't you listening?"

"Course not," Paige snapped. "So why 7am? Church isn't until 10, right?"

"No," Claire told her. "Well yes. But they are based in Southend. The main people in Christian Outrage and Sue Garratt all attend the same church – and it is hours away."

Paige lay back on the chair and groaned. "Wake me when we get there." It took a little longer to get to Southend as Jack got lost as they navigated towards the tunnel that took them under River Thames and then towards the seaside port.

Jack had to brake sharply to avoid a cyclist and the violent stopping motion of the vehicle dumped the dozing and horizontal Paige onto the floor, and caused a volley of profanity to leave the lips of the beautiful singer towards the wobbling man on his two-wheeled vehicle. "What?" Paige asked Claire, aggressively. "You think I shouldn't tell him, he was a 'twat?'"

"No," Claire replied. "I am just thinking it is a headline we could do without." Paige muttered under her breath and returned to her horizontal position on the minibus chairs, nursing her bruised sides.

They arrived at the little church in the suburbs of Southend and had to wait in the vehicle for half-an-hour; Claire wanted their entrance to be at "the perfect moment." Jack had stopped the minibus in the next street, but as 11am approached and when the band thought Christian Outrage were half way through their church service, Jack slowly reversed the minibus into the small car park and stopped outside the church entrance. They could hear organ music coming from inside the building, and Claire took a few deep breaths.

"Now I am here, I am not so sure," she muttered, but Paige shrugged.

"So what? It's only Christian Outrage. What's the worst that can happen?"

"We get arrested," Claire replied and looked pale.

"What? Again! Look, you woke me up at some ridiculous hour, drove me across the country, threw me on the floor of a minibus. It better be for a damned good reason," Paige ranted, and Claire nodded.

"I'm being silly. Right, slight change. I am on vocals with you," she told Paige. "And Jack has the amp." She waited for Paige to mutter something and then added. "It's battery powered. And we have our backing track without our voices on CD to play. But it's in and out in two minutes. Hazel's going to record on camera."

"Right." Paige looked at Hazel who had a video camera in her hand, holding it in front of her face and pointing it around the minibus. "Shall we get stripped?"

"You want to do this as a naked protest?" Jack asked.

"Well yeah, why not?"

"Because... because we really will get arrested!"

"Nonsense," Paige replied. "What's the point of the Bare Necessities protesting if we want to wear our clothes. Feeble!" Claire nodded.

"Yeah, that was the point."

"Ahh, do it for me!" Paige begged her male band mate. "I'll give you a kiss."

"You always give me a kiss," Jack demanded. "You are always kissing me." He snorted and sighed. "Come on then."

The three of them checked around the vehicle for anyone watching, and got undressed. Jack was shaking with fear, but both Claire and Paige were excited and eagerly disrobed. Hazel was filming them and Claire realised, looking into the camera.

"Two days ago, the fascists in Russia sentenced three members of Pussy Riot to jail for over a year. Their crime? Performing in a church. While the ludicrously harsh sentences were criticised around the world, the fascists at this church, known as Christian Outrage welcomed the sentence. Well, we are here to give them a little reminder that we support the heroines at Pussy Riot. We are here to do a little rendition of a cover from our album." Hazel looked around the bus and the three naked performers smiled and nodded.

Jack got out the vehicle at the front and opened the side door to allow Paige and Hazel to disembark from the minibus. He picked up the heavy amp as well as the two microphones and a tiny portable music device. He left the door open, but put the car keys on a chain around his neck and the three of them walked up the steps and stood outside the door. "Just waitin'," Claire told the camera as Jack attached the wireless microphone receivers to the amp and turned it on. Claire gave a deep breath, smiled and nodded.

Paige was suddenly nervous and closed her eyes as the doors burst open. She hesitated for a split second as the whole congregation turned to look at them and Jack put the amp on the floor in the aisle. "Two days ago, you condemned Pussy Riot," Claire shouted into her microphone, and the sound filled the hall. "So we are here to tell you that was wrong." Sue Garratt struggled to her feet near the front.

"This is God's house," she shouted at the naked three teenagers. "And you shall ..."

Her words were cut off as Jack started the backing track and Paige began to sing. "Look inside, look inside your tiny mind and look a bit harder, cause we're so uninspired, so sick and tired of all the hatred you harbour." Claire ran towards the front of the aisle and gestured towards the shocked vicar and members of the Christian pressure group.

"So you say it's not okay to be nude, well we think you're just evil, you're just some fascist who can't see the future; your point of view is medieval," the two girls sang as Sue Garratt desperately tried to shout over the two singers, but was unable to compete with the powerful amplifier. Several of the congregation had resorted to jeering at the two girls, and a couple of the younger members were trying to film the unfolding protest on their mobile phones.

"Fuck you, fuck you very, very much." The profane words caused the vitriol towards the singers to increase and Paige knew they couldn't stay for much longer. They had the element of surprise and shock, but they knew someone would be calling the Police, and she gestured towards her friend. "Cause we hate what you do, and we hate your whole crew, so please don't stay in touch!"

Claire skipped down the aisle and blew Sue Garratt a kiss. "Fuck you," the mild mannered girl screeched. "Free Pussy Riot," she yelled and the four of them ran out of the church and jumped into the back of the minibus with the equipment while Jack started the engine and sped down the road to put as much distance between the church and themselves before stopping in a side street to get dressed.

"Amazing," Hazel cried and giggled.

"That's how you deal with small-minded nutters who don't like you," Paige told her.

"You beat them at their own game?" Claire told her.

"No," Paige sneered. "You fight dirty."
  20. # Chapter XIX

"And have a report from Southend," the radio host announced.

"Turn it up, turn it up," Paige screeched and Jack looked up from the motorway to touch the radio.

"That the band The Bare Necessities, made an expletive-filled stop at the church of Christian Outrage founder, Sue Garratt, to protest at her support for the sentences given to Pussy Riot. We go live to Iqbal, on the scene for us. Iqbal, what happened?"

"Well it appears that around two hours ago, four naked protesters..."

"Three," Paige corrected the radio. "Sloppy journalists. Hazel was clothed during her filming."

"...Burst into the Sunday church service and aimed a song from their album at Sue Garratt and swore repeatedly, before being ejected."

"Pah," Paige snorted and Claire glared at her, before putting a finger over her lips.

"I have with me, Christian Outrage founder, Sue Garratt. Sue, what exactly did they do?"

"Well as you said. These... heathens, these terrorists burst into the service, violated the sacredness of the church and sang the most disgusting song I have ever heard, spitting dangerous lyrics towards me. There are children in the audience, and they shouldn't be hearing that sort of material. It's depravity. Pure depravity. Something should be done about it, and I will be talking to the Police."

"Do you have a message for the Bare Necessities if they are listening?"

"Stop," Sue said firmly and Paige burst into hysterics. "Just stop. It's not too late to repent. But them corrupting society has to stop, and we at Christian Outrage will do our best to stop them."

Claire's phone vibrated and the good natured girl answered it by pressing the speakerphone option. "Claire?"

"Yes."

"Where are you?"

"Travelling back from Southend," Claire giggled and he swore.

"So it was you."

"Yep," Claire said proudly "Sweet, huh?"

"No," Andre said firmly. "Bloody stupid. What you've done is just raised the profile of one of the few people who had a problem with you. And media loves conflict. Christian Outrage are going to get a lot of media time now thanks to you, is that what you want?"

"But so will we, surely?" Claire muttered.

"No. Everyone knows about you. Your songs get airplay, and you are well known. Sue Garratt less so. So now you will be on the front page with this nutter trying to get you banned. Is that what you wanted?"

"But... but."

"Next time, can you please talk to me about your stunts."

"I think we are being told off," Paige whispered.

"Yes. I heard that. And yes you are. I know you meant well and you probably do feel for Pussy Riot, but this is certainly not the way to go about promoting your cause."

Claire gulped and sniffed. "Is that it?"

"Yes," Andre said firmly. "Any idea on how to spin this, Claire? 'Cause I will have editors left, right and centre asking for a quote. Asking why my clients just swore at a bunch of kids at church."

"Just say that the band were so shocked by her evil words that..."

"... You decided to interrupt a church service. That's like slapping Mother Teresa to some people." Andre ranted for another five minutes with Paige muttering that they could just sack him.

"He's right," Claire admitted as she put the phone down. "What a stupid idea."

"Your stupid idea," Paige reminded her. "I lost my sleep for nothing."

"Will you stop moaning about your sleep?" Claire snapped. "And I'm sorry. I thought it would work and send a message about Pussy Riot."

Hazel shrugged. "But we still have the video," she muttered. Claire hummed and looked out the window as the countryside raced by and then jumped when her phone vibrated again. She refused the call, but Andre rang back a second and third time.

He clearly gave up trying to get hold of Claire as Paige's phone rang, and she pressed "answer" and put it on speakerphone.

"Guys," Andre called excitedly. "Are you free tonight?"

The three of them looked at each other. "Yeah, why?" Claire asked.

"I need to catch up on my sleep," Paige objected.

"Flee Wilson is playing tonight at Wembley."

"And you have tickets?" Paige cried. "Oh, I love you. She defined women in rock along with Joan Jett in the seventies. Oh Andre..."

"No Paige, she wants you to open the show. She's a fan, and she liked what you did in Southend. And her first choice pulled out. She wants you to..."

Andre didn't get to finish as three extremely excited teenagers yelled at each other. "Yes," screamed Paige. "We'll do it! We'll do it!"

* * * * *

"Pardon?"

"Paige says she won't talk to you unless you are naked," Claire replied as she held their dressing room door ajar.

"Why?"

"Because she is in an awkward mood," Claire teased. Paige hissed at her friend.

"It's not me that wants to see him naked," Paige exclaimed. "It's you."

"Ssssshhhhh!" The black-haired voluptuous girl moaned and pushed her hair behind her ear. She rubbed her mouth to remove the biscuit crumbs and even straightened her pubic hair. "Are you naked yet?"

"I'm in the middle of the corridor," their agent moaned. "I can't get undressed. I just need to speak to you. Let me in."

"Paige says no bare ass, no chat."

"Claire, please tell Paige that I can't get undressed here."

"Ahh Paige says..."

"Paige says come in," the red-haired girl cried and opened the door to their suited agent. She shut the door as Claire glared at her and then turned to face the well-presented man. "And now get those clothes off."

"But..."

"Just do as she says. Claire wants to see you naked." Claire blushed, and Paige just shrugged as she walked to the back of the dressing room where a make-up artist was finishing her craft on Jack. Paige picked up Jack's phone and took a picture of the stripping Andre and uploaded it to the band's social networking presence with the caption, "even our agent gets naked for us." Jack snatched his phone back as it finished uploading and Paige giggled.

"You are a naughty girl," he teased when he saw the picture.

"Leave it," Paige begged and looked across at Andre's frown. "What's up?"

"Christian Outrage are protesting outside the stadium," she was told. "Five hundred people are here, and the Police are worried..."

"What, that there may be a mass tea-and-biscuits session," Claire flippantly added. "Seriously, what are a group of middle-aged religious extremists going to do?"

"I don't know, but they are protesting and it has drawn news cameras. So please, Paige, Claire be on your best behaviour. We could really do with you not inflaming the situation."

"You should have been a school teacher," Paige moaned. "Every time you talk I think I am being told off." Andre shook his head and Paige sighed. "OK. I will be suitably behaved."

"It's not you that had to explain your little church stunt," Andre moaned.

"Andre, you're our agent. You get paid to take the flack," Paige replied and crossed her arms. "What's the point of an agent if he wants us to be school prefects. Your job is to explain away our silliness."

"Don't I know it," he grumbled and sighed, before wishing the band the best of luck.

"I'm nervous," Claire admitted and held out her arms to hug their naked agent, squeezing him tightly. "We've not played to this many people before."

"We played to millions on the 'net," Jack told her optimistically, but Paige was answering her phone and Claire wasn't listening as she hugged Andre.

"Hello?" Paige answered and then swore as Hazel's voice came through the handset.

"I'm sorry, we can't get to Wembley."

"Why not? I left tickets for everyone and..."

"Yes, it's not that," Hazel interrupted her. "There is a protest downstairs... about you."

"Christian Outrage?"

"Yeah. Them."

"They are outside Wembley not... why have two?"

"I don't know but the Police are here and they have told us to stay inside while they try and break it up, but it's been going on for an hour now so we won't make it."

Paige snorted. "Right. I'm not having that."

"Paige. It's fine," the voice of her mother cried. "You are doing another concert in a couple of days time. We'll see you then. This is just because of the silly stunt you did in Southend."

"No. I don't like them going for my family. They can do one if they think that's OK. I'm..."

"Paige, don't do anything silly." Her mother begged as Claire gestured towards Paige with a tap of her wrist.

"I gotta go. We're due on stage. I'll catch up with you soon."

"Paige..." Her mother cried, but her daughter was gone.

The three of them held hands as the compère spoke on stage, and they waited patiently. They had been waiting in the wings for five minutes and Paige squeezed both her friend's hands. "You OK?" Jack asked, and she nodded.

"It's scary," she told him. "I feel like I'm on the top of a whopping big rollercoaster. I know it's going to be scary, fun and incredible at the same time."

"Hey," Jack told her. "We've done this loads of times before. It's our music, we'll just follow your lead. We haven't done a bad gig."

"Always time for a first," she muttered. Jack gestured to her for a hug, and he squeezed her tight. She kissed him on the cheek and then embraced Claire.

Paige was deafened by the roar from the crowd as they strode onto the stage, looking more confident than they felt. She waved her hands and beamed as lightbulbs flashed around her and she picked up the microphone in the centre of the stage.

She turned around to display her bare ass to the crowd as she watched Jack and Claire get settled and then turned to face the audience. "Nice ass," a lone voice cried. "And a nice rack."

"Thank you," Paige said to laughter in the front row. "And nice coat." She shrugged, and there was some commotion at the end of the stage. She turned as a young woman, dressed in shorts and T-shirt squirmed past the security guards and ran onto the stage, aiming to hit Paige.

Paige ducked, and the woman screeched. "This is an outrage. You are all going to hell. Paige Simmons will be tortured by the devil himself. This is depravity. This is an outrage." The woman lurched towards Paige again, but the lead singer was able to subdue her with a well aimed blow to the stomach that caused a large cheer to come from the audience. She dropped the microphone and went to strike the protester again when the security guards pounced, and stopped her.

"This is Christian Outrage," Paige shouted to the crowd. "My family – my brother, sister, mother and father – can't be here tonight because this bunch of religious nutters have attacked our family home. They are locked inside their home because these lowlifes hate me. Not my family, but me. So they go after my family." Paige shouted and picked up the microphone from the floor.

"They preach hate," Paige yelled and opened her arms. "Outside you saw them as you came in. They don't understand naturism, and they don't understand me, so they do nothing but hate us and attack us."

"You are going to hell," the woman shouted as she was led away. "This is the work of Satan."

"I don't care about you, or Satan or anything about you," Paige yelled. "To Christian Outrage – the bunch of nutters – I dedicate this song to you." She nodded towards Jack and Claire. "Even My Dog Wants You Dead."

* * * * *

"That's on your best behaviour?" Andre shouted at Paige. "You are the first item of every news bulletin, and probably on Page 1 of every newspaper. And Page 3, is that what you want?"

"Well Flee didn't mind. She quite liked it. She is so awesome," Paige crooned. "Ahhh... she is just so... chilled. I want to be like her."

"Yes, I would quite like you to be like her too. And I know you have a lot of anger in you Paige, but seriously, if you want to make it to the top, you need to leave some of this teenage aggression behind."

"Well Flee thought it great," Paige snapped.

"You have got her show more publicity than she could ever imagine."

"Yeah... and?"

"Paige. You are playing Sue Garratt's game. She is using you to get publicity for her cause."

"But... she's attacked my family," the angry girl shouted. "She's wound me up. I am not having that."

"She's winning," Andre said calmly. "I see it all the time. She wanted a reaction, and you gave her one."

"She'll be getting a lot more if she does it again," Paige yelled back at him. "I'll..."

"No," Andre shouted. "Just listen. It's not going to get better while you are getting angry. She's... well, you are doing everything she wants you to." He looked at Claire who slipped her hand into his and squeezed it.

"We'll not do anything else," Claire promised. "We'll calm down."

"Just please do." His eyes met Claire's who smiled at him. "But apart from that, it was a great set. Just tomorrow, go and do whatever makes you calm. Flee has one more Wembley date and I can't face another day of angry Paige."

Paige seethed and kicked a chair across the room. "I'll take her out somewhere," Jack promised Claire and Andre in a quiet voice. "She'll be fine in a couple of days time."

* * * * *

Paige rolled her ball down the bowling alley and turned triumphantly to her companion. "Strike!"

"Lucky," Jack moaned and looked up at the board. He threw his hands onto the bench and cried out. "That's the second time you've beaten me on the last roll," he complained and Paige slipped her bowling shoes off.

"So that's two games to nil," she teased and rubbed her hands. "How good am I?"

"Singing, tent assembly, bowling. Is there no end to your talents?" Paige laughed at his coltish chortling, and he slid his feet into his trainers. "You hungry?"

"I'm starving," Paige moaned and took Jack's hand as they walked back across the bowling alley and deposited their shoes at the counter. She yawned and apologised.

"Hey," a voice called and they turned to face a young group of teenagers. "Can we have an autograph?"

"Us?"

"Yeah," they cried and pulled out pens. Paige looked at Jack, and they signed T-shirts, white shorts, and Jack was asked to sign one of the girl's rear end.

Paige giggled as he signed the teenage girl's bare bottom, and the group of fans fired a multitude of questions at the two members of their favourite band which Paige did her best to answer. "Come on," Jack gestured and waved at the small group of teenagers. "We gotta go."

"Why?"

"Because one of them will put a picture of the autograph on the 'net and we'll be inundated."

"That's a bit crazy," Paige shouted in response, but they ran down the street and went into a small café. "Is this safe?" Paige asked and checked under the table jokingly. "I don't see anyone."

"It's not funny," Jack moaned. "I still want a private life. Or how can I take out women for a quiet night out?"

Paige sniggered. "Yeah. Like that's gonna happen! Poor little Jack needs some groupies instead!"

"No. I didn't say that," he replied and picked up the menu and told Paige to pick what she wanted to eat.

Paige made her selection and went up to order, but Jack pulled her back so he could pay for, and order, their meals. Paige groaned, but he returned with a wooden spoon and a giant number on it. "The waitress asked could she take a photo of us with her. And I said yes," Jack told her.

Paige shook her head, but the young waitress was overexcited when she brought two coffees to the table. "Thank you," the young lady blurted. "I so love your songs, they are so... deep. And the guitar solos are just crazy and... oh , you haven't split up have you. Where's Claire?"

"Claire is not with us, but we haven't split up," Paige answered and the waitress hovered. "Excuse me," Paige called to a couple on a neighbouring table. "Would you mind taking a picture?"

"Oh yeah, right," the uniformed woman muttered and passed her mobile phone to the couple, and then crouched down in front of them, allowing Paige and Jack to lean onto the table.

"See what I mean," Jack said the moment the waitress had left. "I can hardly take a girl out on a date, knowing that most of the time I would be paying attention to other people." Paige shrugged.

"Maybe you need to find someone who knows what's like. Someone who would be understanding."

"Someone like..." Jack stopped as Paige reached for her phone.

"Sorry," she muttered. "It's Hazel." She pressed the button. "What is it? I'm with Jack having lunch."

"Paige!" The stressed voice cried. "It's Jeremy. He's been beaten up, and we are going to the hospital."

"Right, I'll be right with you."
  21. # Chapter XX

Paul straightened his tie and coughed. He looked around the small conference venue and sat down at the front of a table. Sue Garratt passed him and sat down, and she adjusted the microphone in front of Paul.

"Just as we discussed," the elderly woman suggested as she whispered in his ear. Paul nodded, and tapped the table, before taking a gulp of water.

He was not used to being in front of so many cameras and microphones, and there were hundreds of people in the room. Behind him was a board with Christian Outrage's logo, and around him were prominent members of the action group.

"Ladies and gentlemen," their press officer cried and clapped her hands together to get silence in the room. "Paul Rees-Montague, father of Jack Rees-Montague, and Sue Garratt, founder and leader of Christian Outrage would like to make a statement. There will be time for questions at the end."

Sue furrowed her brow and cleared her throat. "Thank you Jenny. Yes, we have called this press conference in response to the actions yesterday of the music band The Bare Necessities and... er... their continuing war against morality and the Christian faith."

Paul nodded as Sue spoke. She was authoritative and clear, looking directly at the camera as she spoke and gestured warmly towards Paul. "Jack's father is distraught. He is devastated that his son, his only son, would get involved with two of the nastiest elements of our society. Who care not, for other people's beliefs and who wish to spread their message of hate and immorality throughout our society."

Sue ranted about the naked protest at her church, Paige's uninvited appearance on Peter Moran's radio show and their arrest a few days previous while equating their performances as worthy of Satan.

"Mark Riordan, The Mirror. If you could say anything to your son, what would it be?" Paul was asked, and all eyes turned to the nervous father sat alongside Sue Garratt.

Paul sighed and rested his elbows on the table, in front of one of the microphones. "I'd tell him to come home. I'd tell him to stop all this silliness and to stop breaking the law. He will end up in prison, and it's just 'cause he is chasing the two girls. They are leading him on. They are bad influences. I mean, interrupting a church service, that's out of order. He needs to stop."

"And that is why Christian Outrage is calling on everyone to boycott their shows, their records, their tatty merchandise and their website. They only exist because people have given them attention. So a message to all Christians, boycott them."

Paul nodded, and a stray hand emerged from the end of the room. "Lucinda, Lucinda Rees-Montague. Friend of The Bare Necessities and sister of Paul. I'm writing for their website. What are your thoughts on members of your terrorist cell, rioting outside the young girl's house, frightening the life out of her family and another trying to attack her on stage? That doesn't sound all that Christian, does it?"

Lucinda looked at two members of the security staff move in behind her as Sue Garratt stuttered over the question. "We are not bad people here..."

"Most people think you are," Lucinda interrupted and smirked. "Most people think that attacking the family home containing minors to be the work of truly evil people. And my brother there, talking with you, he's done some evil things in the past. Surprised you want to share a platform with the dishonest little twat." There was a gasp as Lucinda spoke.

"You're the one leading my son astray," Paul shouted and stood up. "Arrest that woman."

"I'm not leading Jack astray," Lucinda snapped derisively. "That's Paige's job." The journalist pencils scribbled down the shouting match as Lucinda felt her arm get grabbed from behind.

"Get out!" Sue shouted. "This is an outrage."

Lucinda shook her head. "Once you've answered the question. Do you think attacking children is good?"

"Get her out, please. Trouble-maker." The figure of Jenny, Christian Outrage's PR lady, watched as Lucinda was dragged out of the small venue, kicking and screaming before the door was locked and Sue apologised.

Irrespective of what Sue had said, Lucinda's appearance and admission that Paige was interested in Jack, would be the only story from their news conference.

* * * * *

"See what you've done," the angry face of her father shouted at Paige as she walked into the private room.

"What have I done?" Paige asked and looked at Hazel and her mother, who were averting their eyes.

"This," he shouted and pointed towards Jeremy lay on the bed. Jeremy's face was swollen and red. He had a number of stitches on the side of his face, and his eyesocket was black and blue.

"This is nothing to do with me," the red-headed teenager shouted. "What the hell happened?"

"This has everything to do with you," he yelled, his veins throbbing in his face. He glared at his daughter. "What have I told you about our naturism, it is not something you shout about. People don't understand."

"Well I'm... This better not be Christian Outrage. Or else I am getting baseball bats and explosives."

"No!" He yelled. "This is not Christian Outrage. This is how some people react to naturism. And this stops. Now."

"I won't be forced to stop," Paige replied and crossed her arms. "This is my life, and if this isn't Christian Outrage or Peter Moran, then this attack has nothing to do with me. But I will..."

"Tell her." Jeremy bit his lip and his father had to force him to recount the story he had only recently divulged.

"Some lads at school have been picking on me since you went public. Saying you were a slut, and that we were weird for going naked. And..."

"And what?" A shocked Paige asked. "What?"

"That I must be gay for going on such holidays."

"Yeah, spend the day sitting around looking at naked girls. That sounds well gay," Paige replied sanctimoniously. "But what has you going naked got to do with this?"

"They found me this morning and beat me up. Three of them."

Paige played with her hair as she gulped and thought for a moment. "Names. I want names."

"It doesn't matter."

"I want names," Paige demanded. Jeremy hesitated, and Paige looked at him. "This will not go unpunished."

Jeremy hummed as Paige's eyes bored into him. "Leroy, Gavin and Dan," he admitted and buried his face in his hands before tearing them away as he came into contact with his bruises.

"Paige darling," her mother muttered. "Could we, you know, tone it down a bit. I've had people come into the shop and talk 'bout it. You're upsetting church folk as well and it's making it difficult for us. I know you like controversy and I bet your agent is happy with you, but just tone it down, please?"

"I thought you were proud," Paige shouted with tears in her eyes.

"We are dear but..."

"But you don't want me to do it?" Paige asked her mother but her father responded.

"Not naked, no. Time and place, dear." He sighed. "I've had half my factory come up and tell me that they've seen my daughter in the buff. You think I want to hear that? You think any father wants to hear that? Hear what they want to do with you." Paige gulped.

"It's not about sex."

"Yes, I know that, but they don't. And this is causing problems for Jeremy, here."

"I am not stopping," Paige told him. "I like it too much, and I'm not hurting anyone." Her eyes narrowed as her father pointed to the bed. "I am not responsible for this."

"OK. You gotta stop getting involved with the posh bastard," Robert Simmons demanded. "The Rees-Montague family are bad news. I said they would cause trouble."

Paige screwed up her face. "I know you don't like the upper class, Dad, but he's fine."

"He isn't. There is something wrong with that family." Paige scoffed. "But I asked you, and now I am telling you, you will do as you are told," her father shouted and Paige shook her head. "While you are under my roof..."

"I shall move out then," Paige spat back and pulled out her mobile phone. "I shall go if I am not wanted at home."

"Paige," Hazel shouted, but Paige slammed the door as she departed and called Jack.

* * * * *

"Paige," Andre demanded. The concert organisers have said you are not to go naked."

"And what does Flee say? It is her concert."

"I don't think it's relevant," Andre told her. "Not relevant at all."

"I think it is," Paige told him, and the naked girl crossed her arms.

"And you are not to do the whole get on stage with clothes and take them off."

Paige shrugged. "Would I do a thing like that?"

"They say they will cut you off if you start playing silly buggers, Paige. They've had complaints and legal letters. They don't want to lose their license, Paige. Just for once, please."

"Sorry Andre, we told you that. I can't be clothed. It just doesn't feel right."

"If you do strip, you could be arrested. All three of you."

Paige sneered. "What again? You think they could come up with something a little more original."

"How about jail," Andre asked her. "Just for once, please, try and not get yourself on the news. Let's just do a gig and get home at a decent time, instead of phoning for a lawyer and then the Press Association." Paige took a deep breath and groaned, grabbing her oversized T-shirt and putting it over her body. She shrugged and looked at Claire and Jack who reluctantly reached for their own garments. "Better," Andre told them in a patronising voice. "And you got five minutes."

Jack waited for Andre to leave their dressing room and looked at Paige. "How will you sing?"

"Naked," Paige replied back. "But I got a few things to say first! And Flee's concert is going out live again, did you know that?"

"Yes, we did," Claire told her, and they both glared at the grinning face of Paige. They didn't get any time to question their uncontrollable lead singer as she led them from their dressing room to the side of the stage and then onto the stage with a deafening roar, interspersed with a few boos.

"Hi," Paige said into the microphone and looked over the audience. "Bet'cha all wondering why I'm clothed. Well the organisers have had some complaints and have said that unless I am covered up they will cut our session, and I will be arrested." The few boos turned into a torrent of angry hisses and jeers, directed towards the concert organisers. "Of course, they are not the only people not to understand naturism. Christian Outrage, Peter Moran..." Paige waited for the animated booing and catcalling to die down before continuing. "My brother is in hospital at the moment because three guys beat him up. They are gay, and my brother said 'no' to them, but they thought he was gay as he went to naturist camp sites. This is stupid, but if any gay guy wants a piece of teenage arse, just ask for Leroy, Gavin or Dan in Croydon... and then maybe they will leave the rest of us alone." Paige giggled as the crowd listened and she looked towards her two bandmates. "They are as bent as you can get. Right guys, start with Hot and Cold?"

They nodded, and she turned back to the audience. "Just one more thing..." Paige put the microphone on its stand and pulled her T-shirt from her waist and over her head, before throwing it into the audience. "To every concert organiser, policeman, talk show host and religious nutter out there: I DON'T SING CLOTHED." She looked up at the sky and shrugged as the crowd whistled in delight and she waited for the intro for her first song as Jack and Claire disrobed behind her. "And I won't be told what to do by small-minded bigots," she said firmly before launching into her first song.

Paige managed the first half of the song before the power to their instruments was cut, and a harassed man ran onto the stage. "Get dressed!" He ordered.

"No," Paige shouted to cries of boos around them. "Listen to them. They came to see the Bare Necessities."

"You've got to get dressed. Your agent promised."

"Yeah well he lied. He's an agent. Get used to it."

"I cannot let you continue." Paige picked up the microphone and waved it in front of her.

"Paige," Jack called. "Perhaps..."

"I can't sing," the animated teenager shouted. "They came to see us sing. You want us to go home?"

He stumbled as the booing and jeering turned angry and he put his hands together. "Please."

"No," Paige shouted. "Turn our power back on or we go home." He backed away as Paige advanced towards him and the crowd's jeers turned to cheers.

A few moments later the power was restored and Paige's shouting towards a man at the front of the crowd was broadcast through her microphone. "... nipples can get a bit hard, but it's fine really." She stopped as the stadium erupted into laughter and Paige took the microphone again. "Shall we start again," Paige asked and looked towards Andre in the wings. "Now the concert organisers have said we can sing naked." Andre shook his head but Paige smiled. "A song for our agent I think, Don't Hate Us."

* * * * *

Jack pushed the newspapers towards her, but Paige was busy reading the tabloid newspaper to notice. "Are Jack and Paige the Bare Ne-kiss-ities?" Paige called out. "Oh my God. They think we are going out." She glared at Lucinda who sank into her seat.

"Yeah I said I'm sorry. It just sort of came out."

"Yeah well, that's got us on page four and five. I must say, Jack, I think they've done you a favour on the size of the star that covers your... ahem... little man. That star is unreasonably massive." Jack glanced over and looked at the picture where everything from his bellybutton to his knees was covered with a yellow star. "The things over my assets are, unfortunately, a bit smaller."

Jack laughed. "Well according to the story I am very fond of your assets," he replied. Lucinda peered over the top of the story and giggled.

"Well it's all very well having love stories, but look what they've written about me. That slimy Peter Moran." Paige took the cheap tabloid from their guitarist and scanned the page until she reached the bottom story on their nemesis's column. "Is Claire Baynes still anorexic?" Paige read. "What is that man smoking?"

"They've digitally altered the two photos," Claire moaned. The first was taken from their first video and the second taken a couple of days ago in concert, and it was clear Claire had lost some weight, but the effect had been magnified by the newspaper's editing suite. "I was never that fat in the first video. And I am not on a lettuce diet at all, I hate the stuff."

"Hey," Lucinda simpered. "Don't worry about it. Nobody believes what they read in the papers anyway."

"But it's not right. This is a lie and an invasion."

"We could go and see them," Jack offered. "Go in and give the editor a bollocking. I mean, Paige's had some experience with that."

"Or Peter Moran. I did say I would come after him if he touched Claire again," Paige replied. "This is just him trying to poke me."

"They just want a reaction," Lucinda told the three of them. "Don't rise to it. Get your agent to put out a statement that they will have to cover, or put a measured response on your website."

Claire snorted and picked up two more papers. "I see Christian Outrage have said they have filed a complaint with the Police," Jack announced. "Said that when we stripped at Flee's concert that we broke the law and that they will bring a private prosecution if the Police fail to prosecute."

"Oh for Christ's sake," Paige moaned. "Surely there is a way to stop these bastards. I mean, what is their problem?"

"You," Claire muttered. "You antagonise them."

"And why do all the pictures in the papers make us look like escaped criminals?"

"Oh look, we are in the Herald as well," Jack muttered. "And that's a far lovelier picture, apart from the small one there... you look so angry in that one!"

Paige turned to have a look. "I'd just had a row with my Dad at the 'ospital," she said with an aggressive lilt to her voice. "He had a bit of a go about something, and I, sort of, lost it."

"You never told me what was said. You just said you'd had a bit of a row and wanted to move in for a few days."

Paige sighed. "He hates your family, but I don't know why. Do you know why my Dad hates your family so much? Other than you being posh bastards."

Jack laughed at her expression, but he looked up as Lucinda gave a nervous cough. "You'll find out eventually," she supposed and looked down at the floor.

"Find out what?"

"Your Dad, Paige, was my first husband," she admitted. "The naturist, I told you about. And he didn't like my brother much."
  22. # Chapter XXI

"What do you mean, your first husband?" Jack asked loudly, and Lucinda shrugged.

"Well I sort of hoped it wouldn't come out," the woman muttered. "You know I said I had a husband who was a naturist. I did mention it."

"Yeah, but not my dad!"

"OK," she blustered. "OK, I'll be back in a minute," she promised and walked out of the room, coming back with a photograph album as Jack and Paige looked at each other. "Look." The pale blue album was tatty, and Lucinda passed it to her nephew. Jack looked up, and she shrugged. "I should have told you before, but I wasn't sure if you wanted to know."

Paige gulped. "I didn't even know my dad was married before mum."

Lucinda nodded. "It didn't end too well." She pulled out a glass from the cupboard and filled it full of alcoholic spirit, before sitting down at the table.

"Isn't that a bit much?" Claire asked, but Lucinda shook her head.

"I need it," she replied and watched as Paige opened the album of wedding pictures. Staring back at her was an extremely young Lucinda in a beautiful white dress standing next to her father. Young Robert Simmons had considerably more hair than Paige was used to seeing him with and he beamed at the camera.

"That's mum," Paige told her, pointing at one of the bridesmaids. "Isn't it?"

"Yes, she was a family friend of your father's family. He had no sisters, and... ummm... well I got shunned by my friends and family, so it was natural really. Funny that his future wife attended his first marriage." She gulped and watched as they turned page after page, gulping her fiery drink and squinting. The album contained many naturist photographs of the married couple, always beaming at the camera.

"So what happened?"

Lucinda gulped. "In truth, I was weak. He worked at the factory that Paul eventually took over from our dad. And I met him on the Christmas do. I was sixteen, and he was a couple of years older." She took a few more swigs of her drink and wiped her eyes. "He was great. But Dad was against the marriage, and that meant Paul was. We got married, and Dad boycotted the wedding. Our friends shunned us, and... and," she gulped and squeezed her hands together. "After a year, Dad withdrew his support. He told Robert that unless we divorce, he would lose his job, and I would lose my inheritance."

Paige rubbed Lucinda's hand and the woman squeezed it. "That's... awful."

"Yeah. And we had a few rows. I told him that I didn't care about my inheritance, but Robert said he couldn't do that to me, and within a few days Paul came to see us and Robert was gone. I mean, I cried for days. Weeks. Dad said he thought he knew best and set me up with some junior doctor."

"And that lasted how long?"

"Not very, Dad died shortly afterwards. But by the time I found Robert again, he was with your mother, Paige. And that was that. I spoke to him and he just lost it, telling me that my family were evil and he never wanted to see me again."

"That's terrible," Jack told her, and Lucinda nodded.

"It was. I just wished we'd both been stronger, but we were too young."

"So that's why Dad hates your family," Paige told Jack. "Well I hope he realises that I am not going to be like him, and you aren't like your grandfather."

"It was Paul as well. He turned into his father and as the supervisor he was always on Robert's case. He was itching to sack Robert. And after we got divorced, Robert was thrown out of the factory. He was a union leader as well, so they truly hated him." Paige took a deep breath and wiped her face.

"So I get it. But that was a long time ago."

"They did their best to ruin him," Lucinda said in a low voice. "You forget that the factory was the biggest employer in the area. If he was sacked from the factory, then he would struggle to get another job. Which is what happened and why you had to move away. He had to move a few miles away."

Paige gulped. "But that's evil."

"It was," Lucinda admitted. "And I saw it happening and tried to say something, but no-one would listen. And I just gave up once he left our little house."

Paige sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I guess I better go and see my Dad."

* * * * *

"I'm sorry," Claire's mother told her. "But it is just causing too many problems. And we don't want you to stop but..." Her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat. "It's Paul. He says that unless you and Jack stop I can't have my job back and..." She wiped her eyes. "I'm so sorry, but he's made an allegation that I stole some stuff from him."

Claire gulped. "You can't be... why would he do that?"

"Because he's nasty," Teri snapped, and tears flowed down her cheek. "He wants me to make you stop."

"But it's Jack's choice. I can't make him stop."

"He says that he wants you and Paige to throw him out the band. Replace him. And then he'll go back home. And he will withdraw the allegation's he's made. But until then..." Claire's eyes fell on a letter Teri has holding.

"What's that?" Claire asked and saw the "FINAL DEMAND" written in bright red ink across the top of the paper. "What's happening?"

"Oh, it's nothing. And I know you and Jack are friends, and you like his company," her mother started.

"I am not throwing him out the band. I am not doing that."

"Claire. I've never asked you for anything before. So please, I'm begging you. Help me. I need you to do this one thing for me. I know you don't want to stop, and that Paige is a delightful girl, but..."

"But we are good," Claire told her mother. She wavered, and Claire crossed her arms. "We are good. We get lots of radio airplay. People say we are just a novelty act but we are loved by the radio stations so it's not. You can't expect us to walk away from that."

Teri wiped her eyes. "Claire. Think about George and..."

"Is it money?" Claire asked. "We got money for doing the gig at Wembley and sales on iTunes and all sorts. It's all in a bank account at the moment, but we can get at it. If it's the money..."

"It's not just the money," Teri replied. "I am not a charity case. I just need you to stop antagonising my employer. Or I could go to prison." Teri's face contorted. "If he makes a complaint to the Police, who are they going to believe? I'm proud of you, and I hate myself for asking, but please, please Claire, just think about it."

Claire shook her head. "Sorry Mum," she said slowly and closed her eyes waiting for the reaction. When nothing was said, she looked up to see her mother sobbing in the armchair. "But we will help financially," she told her. "That's not a problem."

"I'm not a charity case," Teri shouted at her daughter. "I don't want your money." Claire said nothing and Teri threw the letter on the floor and took a few deep breaths. "Go on, go back to your band," she yelled.

Claire didn't waste the opportunity and dialled Jack as she left. "Jack, is there any chance I could stay with your Lucinda? Just for a few days?"

* * * * *

Paige stopped outside her family flat and hesitated. She wasn't sure what sort of reaction she would get, but slowly put her key in the lock and opened the door. She could hear the television from the front room and gently walked up the stairs. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but the young singer was in dire need of additional clothes and had returned to take a few more of her belongings.

"Paige," a voice shouted excitedly as she was about to go into her bedroom. "Oh my God, Paige, come here." Paige scowled at her sister bounding down the hallway, to embrace the girl desperately trying to maintain a degree of stealth.

"Paige?" Her mother cried and appeared in the doorway. "What are you doing here?"

"Just getting a few belongings," she admitted and Hazel threw herself into the arms of the eighteen year-old. "Bloody hell, Hazel. Careful!" Paige had been propelled against the wall and wiped her face as she pushed her sister from her. "I'm just short on a few things, that's all."

"Like what?" Her mother asked, and the frowning face of Robert Simmons appeared behind his wife.

"That Rees-Montague family done the dirty on you yet?"

"No," Paige spat and her eyes narrowed. "And I am staying with Jack's Aunt Lucinda. Ring any bells?"

Her father tensed, and he shook his head. "No."

"Liar!" Paige cried and opened her arms as she walked towards him. "I know you were married to her, and I know what happened when you got divorced."

"What?" Hazel asked.

"Dad was married before Mum," she told her sister. "And it was to the woman I am staying with. And she was told that unless she divorced Dad she would lose her inheritance. So Dad ran away because he was scared to fight for what he wanted."

"Stop this," Paige's mother cried.

"No," Paige yelled. "'Cause it needs saying. Your hatred of the family is what happened to you, twenty-odd years ago. And that has meant you hate Jack and Claire and me and its not fair."

"We don't mess with them," Robert told her. "They are nasty people. They will rip us apart like they've tried to do before." He gulped and clenched his fists. "I don't want you to have anything more to do with that Rees-Montague lad. Singing naked with Claire is fine but not with that family."

Paige snarled. "Oh, 'cause at the hospital, I was causing awkward questions for you at work. And Jeremy getting beat up. So that's all OK now, as long as I am not with Jack." Paige glared at her father and gestured wildly at him. "This is all about you and your hatred of Lucinda, of Paul, of that family." Robert shook his head at his daughter's accusations and Paige crossed her arms. "I'm eighteen now," Paige reminded her parents. "And I know you don't like it, but I won't be giving in. I am not you, Jack is not Lucinda." Robert took a step towards his daughter, and she backed away. "Twenty years ago you walked out on someone you loved because you were weak. I am not going to make the same mistake." She gulped and rubbed her eye. "I am not that stupid. And you should be proud of me for that."

"They'll destroy you."

Paige's eyebrows rose slightly. "Really? They can try. I don't give up. Life's too short to let other people run it for you." She watched the face of her father change. "Lucinda taught us that. She probably said the same thing to you, but you were too stubborn to listen to her."

"That's enough," Paige's mother cried at her daughter. "Don't talk to your father like that."

"When he stops trying to wreck everything I won't have reason to talk to him like that. He's as bad as Paul and his father." The angry Suzanne Simmons stepped forwards and slapped her daughter on the cheek, causing Paige to squeal.

"How dare you! Come back here and bring up what happened. You have no idea..."

Paige pushed her mother away. "I know enough," Paige yelled and opened the door to the lounge, stopping in her room to grab some underwear. "Paige, you're not going again, are you?" Hazel begged, and Paige turned to hug her sister.

"I'll be back, soon," Paige tearfully promised. "Real soon. But I can't stay here."

"But Mum and Dad didn't mean it," Hazel cried but Paige just shook her head.

"She did," Paige told her. "And I meant what I said too. They are weak."

* * * * *

Paul stood in the doorway of his sister's house, and she shook her head. "No, I am not letting you in," she said firmly. "Not until you embrace Jack's little project."

"You're drunk," he snapped at the woman with glazed eyes and a glass of wine in her hand. "You need help. Now I want to see my son."

"Do one," Lucinda cried and finished her drink.

"You always used to stay at my house whenever you needed to."

"So," Lucinda muttered. "I came into your house and caused no trouble. You are going to shout at your son and my guests, and I don't want it."

"Well I want to talk to him," Paul shouted. "I'm his father. It's my right."

"You give him any ultimatum and you're in trouble," Lucinda warned him. "Go around to the back, I'll send him out."

"What? I am not..."

"Shut up Paul. You may have been able to bully me twenty years ago but not now. Paige and Jack are doing what I should have done." Her eyes narrowed, and she pointed towards the back gate. She slammed the door angrily and walked to the lounge. "Your father is here and wants a word." Jack groaned, and she shrugged. "Go talk to him. Maybe he might listen to you. I doubt it."

"Yeah," Jack muttered and got up from the couch.

"Hey, before you go out," Lucinda called to her nephew and stopped him at the door. She took a tall glass from the sideboard, and filled it full of whiskey from the cabinet. "He'll need it," she told him and unlocked the back door. "If you are honest, he will. I'm relying on you."

The angry face of Paul was waiting for Jack on the little bench in the garden, and he called him over. "Lucinda said you would need this," Jack muttered and offered his father the large glass of spirit. He snorted and took a sip.

"This has to stop," Paul barked angrily. "And I know you think that it is all fine and dandy, but I ask you, how many bands are still going now and making money that were making money forty years ago. Practically none. This isn't a career, and it won't end well."

"I am not stopping. I like being part of a band. We played to Wembley. We opened for Flee Wilson. We are doing so well. Don't you find that exciting?"

"No," he shouted and took another gulp of the whisky. "It's no future. Do you think we paid fifteen thousand pounds a year to send you to one of the best schools in London for you to go prancing around naked on stage?"

"No," Jack admitted. "But Aunty Lucinda..."

"Oh stuff Lucinda. She's an alcoholic." He held out the whisky and snorted before taking another sip. "What the hell does she know?"

"She told me that she was once happy and let herself get railroaded into doing something she didn't want to do. And I am not like that. She says if you love me, truly love me, you will support me."

Paul spluttered and banged his fist on the bench. "Your mother and I do love you which is why we don't want to see you throw your life away."

"But I am not. I am doing my own thing. You always said I was intelligent so just see that I have made a choice, and it is my choice. You can't change that."

Paul took a few deep breaths and groaned. "Well this is my choice," he told him. "Unless you leave that band by this time next week I shall write you out of my will." He gulped and downed the whisky, throwing the glass into the garden. "I will not tolerate this. This madness has gone on for long enough. I expect you at work a week on Monday."

Jack looked at him stunned. "But..."

Paul shook his head. "And I will stop paying for anything I pay for. What? You think Lucinda will support you?"

"I expect our music to support me." Paul snorted. "I know what granddad did to Aunty Lucinda and I am not making the same mistake in giving in."

"Lucinda made a mistake and corrected it. I expect the same from you."

"I won't be giving in. This is my life."

"I am not joking," Paul shouted. "The company is worth millions. If you want to walk away from your family fortune, go ahead. But I will not be relenting. My will, it will be changed. I do not want you getting involved with that Simmons girl."

Jack gulped and got up from the bench. "This conversation is over," he told his father firmly and picked up the empty glass that lay abandoned on the grass. He took a deep breath. "And Paige and Claire are my friends. They will stay so. And one day, I hope Paige and I might be more than just friends so you better get used to it." He turned and walked up the garden path with his father shouting angrily after him. "This conversation is over," he repeated, and opened the back door and placed the empty glass on the table, before closing the door with a slam. "He told me what your father told you," he said to his aunt. "I'll lose my inheritance."

"He did what?" Lucinda asked Jack.

"He said that I need to cut ties in the next seven days or he will write me out of his will."

"The bastard," Lucinda shouted and looked at her brother walking out of her garden.

"Please don't tell Paige or Claire," Jack begged. "It's my problem, not their's."

"I won't," Lucinda promised and picked up the telephone with a smile. "Hello, is that the Police?" Lucinda asked. "Yes, I'd like to report a drink-driver. He has is just leaving my house in Purley and is driving to Barton Drive in Kingswood in a black BMW. Yes, he's all over the road." She looked at the shocked teenager in front of her and shrugged as she put the phone down. "What? Two can be underhand."

"But, that's mean," Jack told her, and Lucinda smiled.

"Yeah, I know. Very unclassy. I think I learned that from my nephew."

* * * * *

"Hey Claire," Lucinda called and passed her a glass of wine. "You OK?"

"Yeah," Claire muttered morosely and Lucinda closed the door to her lounge.

"Just that since you've moved in, you've been quiet. Everything OK?" Lucinda took a swig from her own glass of alcoholic beverage and then sighed. "I can see an unhappy teenager from a mile off."

"It's Mum," Claire muttered. "Jack's father has made an allegation against her that he won't withdraw unless I stop Jack being in the band."

Lucinda groaned. "The twat," she cried and shook her head. Claire sniffed and put her head in her hands, sobbing gently.

"Mum says she will go to prison and it caused a fight between us, and I don't know what to do for the best. It's not fair and it's all my fault."

Lucinda hummed and her eyes focused on the television. "I'll sort," she promised and picked up the telephone on the coffee table.

"No, Lucinda. It's..."

"It's nothing," Lucinda replied. "Taunting Paul is one of my favourite hobbies at the moment. In between masturbation and drinking."

Claire blushed as she laughed involuntarily and Lucinda dialled her brother who answered abruptly. "Ahh, dear big brother," the flamboyant aunt cried. "I have some news for you." She waited for Paul to complain and then gleefully continued. "I just heard what you are doing to Teri Baynes, and I thought that it was so nasty, I had no alternative but to rush to the factory tomorrow morning. And I am going to be doing a proper clear-out and... pardon?"

She rolled her eyes as Paul ranted and Claire held her breath. "What's that? I really don't like language like that. And yes I can keep making that threat because I don't mind doing it. I've done it before for six months and I will do it again." She coughed and looked at Claire. "That's one offer, but what about the injury to feelings, lost wages and stress." She laughed and blew air through her teeth. "Higher. And again. Come on Paul, make some effort. OK, let me check with my assistant."

Claire giggled as Lucinda put the phone to her shoulder and whispered to Claire. "He said he will withdraw the charges and pay your mother ten thousands pounds to settle the dispute."

Claire's face brightened and Lucinda cackled. "She says twelve and she will get me so drunk tonight I won't remember I got a fifty percent share in the factory for a week!" Lucinda giggled and sighed. "Excellent. I'll see you soon then, big brother. Make sure that cheque goes in the post tomorrow." Lucinda nodded at Claire as she pressed a button on the phone and shrugged. "Easy really."

Claire leapt up from the chair and put her arms around the scheming woman. "Thank you. Thank you, so much."

"You're welcome," Lucinda cried. "You should have just told me. I can't help you if you keep secrets."

"No," Claire muttered. "Sorry. I just didn't want Jack to know."

"That was probably wise. But you need to keep your end of the bargain now. Jack and Paige are in their room watching a film and I have a dozen drinking games to play with someone."

Claire hummed and nodded. "Sure."

"Go ring your mother first and I'll set 'em up," Lucinda cried. "And you can tell me about that belly button piercing you got. I want one," she added. "And I don't think Jack will approve."

"No," Claire murmured as she smiled. "And thanks. Really."

Lucinda blushed. "I'm sorry about my brother. He thinks he knows best, but he really doesn't. Jack takes after me, not his father, I'm glad to say." She sighed and blinked. "Go on, ring your Mum and let's play some games. It's called Truth, Drink and Dare! It's brilliant. Last one to get a liver transplant is a sissy!"

* * * * *

"Paige," Jack murmured warmly. "Paige, Paige. Oh for the love of ... Paige. Wake up." The naked girl stretched in the bed and slowly opened her eyes to see her bandmate holding a warm cup of tea and shaking her gently.

"Ahhh," Paige cried. "Aggghhhh, what the hell do you want?"

"Paige... wake up. Come downstairs. We are in the papers."

"We are always in the papers at the moment." She wiped her eyes and looked across at the alarm clock. "And it's eight in the morning. I don't get up at eight in the morning."

"Paige, come downstairs. This isn't good."

Paige snorted and adjusted herself in the warm bed. "Be down in a minute." She snarled at Jack as he left the room and looked up at the ceiling before grabbing her dressing gown and putting it over her shoulder.

The half-naked Paige sauntered into the dining room where the worried faces of Claire, Lucinda and Jack looked back at her. "What's up?"

Jack held out a double-page spread entitled "The Bare Necessities: The Naked Truth" and slid it across the table.

"Since I've had world-famous megastars staying with me," Lucinda said with a smile. "I've had all the papers delivered. Greg and Andre thought it would be a good idea."

"When did you speak to Greg and Andre?" Jack asked as he turned to face her.

"Yesterday. He said you three are an editor's wet dream. Three teenagers, all with great bodies performing naked, making popular music and getting into an argument with a Christian pressure group. It's got everything – nudity, talent, popularity and conflict. Plus the love interests. Ahh, they must reckon all their Christmases have come at once!"

Paige squinted and sat down. "They have just done a piece about our backgrounds and families. What new stuff is there? And where the hell did they get that family picture from?"

Jack shrugged. "It's journos ain't it."

Paige giggled. "They reckon we know each other through Lucinda's first marriage." She looked up at their host, and she smirked. "Can't believe you didn't tell us about that."

"It's awkward," the woman replied.

"Twelve divorces, you should know how to handle exes by now," Jack told her jokingly, but Paige interrupted the taunting.

"Oh my God, Claire, were you really suspended for stabbing someone with a compass?"

Claire muttered. "When I was eleven. And were you really arrested and cautioned for theft at thirteen?"

Paige muttered. "Well, yes, sort of." Her eyes continued to read the page, and there was a noise at the door. Lucinda left the room as Paige smiled. "Oh my God, my brother actually is gay. Listen to this," she said. "It is a common knowledge that Jeremy Simmons, fourteen year-old brother of Paige is gay and currently has a boyfriend in school friend Liam. Although Paige claimed he wasn't at the start of one of her concerts, it is clear that she knew and was trying to protect him." Paige looked up and tapped the table. "How can it be common knowledge when his own sister didn't even know?"

Claire shrugged. "Maybe... maybe it was your announcement at trying to get back at the attackers that was the clue."

"Yes, thank you." Paige snapped. "I know I may have arsed that one up, but how the hell didn't I know. And why didn't I know that my mother and father both had failed marriages. Or that..."

"Guys," Lucinda called as she came into the dining room. "You have half of Fleet Street in my drive. They sort of want a statement."

"About this?" Paige asked and pointed at the paper. "What the hell do they want me to say? Can I say what I want, 'cause I got a few things to say?"

"We should ask Andre."

"We don't need Andre," Paige spat as Claire's phone vibrated. "Let me guess, our agent?"

"Yes," Claire muttered and Paige shook her head.

"Why does he always ring you? There are three of us."

"Well you don't listen to him," Claire snapped as she answered her telephone.

"He doesn't listen to me," Paige muttered as their doorbell rang for the second time. Lucinda moved towards the dining room door, but Paige stopped her.

"It's me they want to see," she explained. "Let's give them what they want."

"Paige, do you want to get dressed first?"

"No," Paige shrugged. "I got an image to maintain." She smiled and pushed her hair back. "Everyone has seen me naked, it's a bit late to be getting all modest." Jack, dressed in his jeans and T-shirts, held out his hand as Paige tied her dressing gown. The doorbell rang again and the man hammered on the door. "Go away!" Paige yelled down the hall.

She gave Jack a kiss on the cheek as she approached the door. "Don't say something stupid," Jack told her and they saw Claire come up behind them.

"Andre says you are going to be arrested if..."

"Oh don't be so silly," Paige shouted. "I'm on private land. And I've tied my dressing gown. Honestly, you fret..."

She opened the front door to a battery of a bright lights and flashes. She squinted and shielded her eyes as a hand touched her hand. She pushed it away, and tried to focus.

At the end of the drive were dozens of photographers and journalists. "Paige Simmons, I am arresting you..."

"I am on private land," Paige shouted.

The Police officer grabbed Paige's arms and forced them behind her back, pulling her dressing gown open at the front and back into her shoulders. A pair of handcuffs were slapped around her wrists. "Oi, you fascist. I am on private land. Get your hands off me!"

"I am arresting you on suspicion of offences under Section Five of the Public Order Act. It may harm your defence if..."

"I heard it," Paige interrupted. "This is a disgrace."

"Get her to the station," the Police officer said firmly and Paige was led away, half-naked, past the photographers to a waiting Police van.

"I bloody told her," Claire shouted. "If she opens the door she will be arrested. Police told Andre. It's in response to the complaint Christian Outrage made."

"They paraded her past the hacks," Lucinda said. "They did that to humiliate her."

"I'll speak to Andre," Claire announced and picked up her phone. "And we need to get to the Police station. I'll tell him, we'll meet him there and..."

But Jack didn't listen and just snatched Claire's phone. "Andre..."
  23. # Chapter XXII

"Andre," Jack cried as he snatched the phone from Claire. "They've arrested her."

"I know," the smooth-talking agent told him. "They told me, they were going to do that."

"But why? And why just Paige."

Jack heard Andre take a deep breath. "The complaint was against Paige," the young agent replied wearily. "No-one made a complaint against Claire and you. And anyway, it was Paige that stripped and told you two to do so. She's the ringleader."

"But..."

"Listen Jack," Andre interrupted. "I know what you are going to say. It's not fair, and I agree. But the Police have had a complaint, and they have to investigate. And when they do, if there is a reasonable possibility that a crime has been committed they have to interview. And Paige admitted she had been told not to strip and did so, so you can't blame them."

"I can blame them for how they did it!" Jack cried. "They arrested her in an open dressing gown and paraded her in front of the cameras of the press. And how the hell did the press know that she was going to get arrested today?"

"I don't know," Andre admitted to him. "You know there are leaks to the press from the Police. There are back handers a plenty. I certainly didn't tell them."

"Yeah, I guessed that. You are always trying to get us out of trouble." Jack sighed and tapped the bottom step of the stairs with his foot as he thought. "I need to get down to the station."

"No, Jack. There is a lawyer en-route to the Police station. I shall get some clothes sent down as well." Jack snorted. "Just stay there until I get the word with what's happening. You turning up will just turn it into a media scrum."

"But..."

"Listen, Jack. Christian Outrage have only made the complaint to further their own agenda. You drawing more attention to the arrest is going to play right into their hands. Don't do it." Andre waited for Jack to hum. "But when you see her, we do need to meet up. I got some news for you all, and I need to talk about accountants and stuff."

"Yeah I know what Christian Outrage want," Jack snapped and sighed. He looked at Claire and passed the phone to her. "I'm going to have a shower. And then I'm going to the Police Station. Don't care what Andre says."

Claire shook her head and put the phone to her ear. "Andre says he heard that," she called out to him walking up the stairs.

"Good. I'm not leaving Paige on her own. And he really can't expect me to."

* * * * *

Paige signed the autograph for the custody Sergeant with a smile. "I'll go out the front," she stated to him. "I've not got anything to be ashamed of."

"We can let you go out the back," he announced. "S'only fair." Paige shook her head. "We'd prefer it, actually."

"I've got a few things to say."

"That's why we'd prefer it," the Police officer joked.

"We haven't agreed a statement," her lawyer reminded her. "I have said that..."

"I know," Paige interrupted. "But I got a few things to say that you will not approve of." Paige shook the hand of her lawyer and moved towards the doors of the Police station. "Cheers," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'd strongly advise against..."

"I am sure you would. But I have a life to lead. I will see you tomorrow. Maybe at a different Police station. Maybe this one. Who knows? Perhaps we could write a book about all the cop shops in Britain. I'd certainly give this one the full five Police truncheons!"

He gave a grin. "You should stop getting into trouble then, Miss Simmons." Paige shrugged.

"Sorry. I'm from South London. It's in my DNA." She gave a girlish laugh. "And anyway, you can't bitch 'bout it. How much ya earning?" He didn't respond, and the gaggle of photographers grew louder as Paige approached the door. She could see journalists dozens of rows deep and a plethora of cameras. "Am I really that interesting?"

"You're big news," she was told and slowly opened the towering glass doors to the Police station. Flashes of powerful bright white lights erupted into her eyes, and she bowed her head as she walked onto the steps.

"Paige, have you been charged?"

"What's happening with Jack?"

"Is this the end of the Bare Necessities?"

"Have you got a message for Christian Outrage?"

Paige raised her hands and patted the air to indicate she wanted silence. The cacophony ceased instantly and she had a dozen microphones thrust towards her.

"I would like to make a quick statement," she said forcefully and exhaled sharply. "As you know I was nicked this morning after a bunch of religious nutters made a complaint that I was naked at Wembley a couple of days ago. I have been interviewed and have been bailed pending enquiries. I have been advised not to comment further, and apart from saying that Christian Outrage are a bunch of intolerant bastards and the Police are a bunch of fascists who forced me to be naked in public when they arrested me, I shall say no more."

There was a murmur of laughter as Paige reached the end of her comment and she looked down at the journalists before continuing.

"It is no secret that all three of us have had pressure from our parents, families, moronic talk-show hosts, politicians and small-minded groups like Christian Outrage to stop. Some say, it's about sex, but it isn't." Paige gestured with her hands and spoke assertively as she did. "I can't begin to tell you how being naked, whether alone or with people, makes me feel. I am calmer, I sing better. It is me. We are not doing anyone any harm so why do people see fit to try and ruin it for us?"

She gestured behind her. "Why do the Police see it as so wrong for me to sing naked when it is clear I sing much better with nothing on? Why does it offend them? I am getting mightily hacked off that we are getting harassed so much for being naturists. Why does society hate us? What the hell have we ever done to you? How many people like Christian Outrage and Peter Moran and all that have actually tried naturism before condemning it?"

Paige cleared her throat and wiped her eyes. "All we want to do is to enjoy ourselves and make good music. Why was my brother beat up for me being a naturist? Why have all the skeletons been dragged out of our families' closets? Why are there lies printed about us in the papers? It's enough to make people angry. We just want to be left alone to make our music. So that's all I got to say. Sod ya all."

Paige looked beyond the hundred people in front of her and the satellite trucks behind them and into the distance. "Is it true that you and Jack are romantically attached?"

Paige snorted. "For that to happen, he would have to ask me out, and that hasn't happened. Now I have a bus to catch, and nothing further to say."

The gaggle of questions started again, and Paige had to push her way past the group of journalists, eager to talk to her, to get the comment for their newspaper or TV show."

"Paige, Paige," Jack cried from the back of the group, and she smiled at him. He held up the keys and called her again. "Want a lift?"

Paige pushed past another reporter and ran across the Police station car park to the BMW Jack owned. The two of them were photographed repeatedly as they tried to make a quick exit, but Jack pulled out onto the main road before the paparazzi could follow them. "Thanks," she muttered. "How long were you there for?"

"Long enough," he told her and smiled. "Andre told me you were being released. He's coming to the house and wants a word."

"Oh what the monkeys does he want?" Paige moaned, but Jack dialled their agent from his car.

"Something about some exciting news!"

* * * * *

"Hello stranger," Claire teased as she opened the door to Lucinda's house. There were a still several photographers and journalists at the end of the drive, and Claire shut the door as soon as Andre entered the room.

"Afternoon," Andre greeted her as he came into the house and Claire led him into the spacious lounge, with the curtains drawn across. He smiled. "Privacy?"

"They were coming up the drive earlier," she moaned. "Jack nearly mowed them down when he drove away."

Andre shrugged. "You're hot property," he said with a broad grin and then shrugged. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

Claire sat down and shook her head. "I feel like, it's out of control. Paige is just set on trying to beat everyone, Jack is trying not to upset anyone, and half of the media hate us. It feels, too manic."

Andre licked his lips. "And what do you want?"

"I don't want to be hated," Claire put her head in her hands and groaned. "I just want everything to be like it was when we first went on tour. We didn't have all this."

"But now you are selling tens of thousands of albums, playing to Wembley and... err... festivals."

Claire snorted. "It's not about the money. Hell, my mother was begging me to stop, Jack's father has made his position perfectly clear, and Paige won't tell me what her parents think, but as her brother got beat up because of us, I'd say it's not good. Maybe we are just too crazy."

Andre sat down next to her. "You're not," he soothed. "You lot are a bit different. Well so were the Sex Pistols when they played music, and they had problems. So were Black Sabbath and hundreds of other musicians. You are popular because you are good, don't forget that."

Claire smiled. "I know you have to say nice things to us because you are our agent."

"I have to look after my clients," Andre corrected her with a smirk. "And particularly my favourite clients."

"You mean the ones that make you the most money."

"The ones that are the most talented." He cocked his head as she blushed. "OK, we have mostly ex-musicians trading on back catalogues and fourth-tier footballers. It's not that difficult to be our number one client, but... well... all the work and requests and stuff for you, I've been working eight 'til eight. And we have a temp in working solely on your account. If this keeps up, we are going to need to get permanent staff in and possibly a new office. And it's all thanks to you."

"Me?"

"Yeah. Well all three of you. I'm working full-time on it, my uncle's working part-time and we have a temp in doing clerical work and... the 'phones have been ringing off the hook. We had a fault at the radio mast yesterday, and the 'phones went silent for two hours. Greg phoned O2 back up the moment they came back on and asked them to break the damn masts again so he could get some lunch."

Claire laughed, and she bit her lip. "Don't you want a break from it all? I mean, naturism was all about escaping everyday life and being at one with nature. It just feels that instead of taking the tranquility of naturism to our life, we've just added the manic-ness of life to our only escapism. We've done it all wrong."

Andre stared at her for a moment. "You sound like you need a break from it all. Go and recharge your batteries."

Claire smiled. "Yeah, I think I do."

"OK. Go."

"No, I mean it. Just cut off from the world. I know the place, but... I don't want to take Paige and Jack. They are my friends, but I need to get away from this. And if we go, it will turn into another media circus." She gulped. "And they will be annoyed if I go without them."

Andre sighed. "OK then. As a friend..." he flinched as Claire raised her eyebrows. "... OK sort of a friend. I would say, go. I've got a big festival lined up for you at the end of the month, it's days away. Have a few days away and chill. I'll envy you, but do it. You sound like you need it."

"I can't do it on my own," Claire muttered and then smiled. "But I'll do it with you." Andre stuttered, and Claire giggled at the alarm on his face. "Come on, you've not done naturism properly. And I reckon you need some time away too."

"I've got a very big account to deal with. And a client who insists on getting arrested every twenty minutes!"

"Paige is a big girl," Claire told him. "Well actually she's short and skinny. I'm the big girl, but Paige can look after herself. Come on, it might be the difference between me continuing and not. I need a break as these past few weeks have been relentless and if I can't find a way to switch off then it'll just kill me."

Andre suspired wearily. "You three are definitely the most demanding clients I have ever had!"

"And the most profitable?"

Andre laughed. "Yeah, I've got an accountant looking through that at the moment."

"Please Andre, just the two of us. Somewhere remote and quiet."

Claire's conversation with Andre was interrupted as Jack and Paige came into the house. "You should see them out there," Paige cried. "Ten deep. I thought we were going to have to run the buggers over, but Jack just used his horn." She turned to her friend and sighed. "Didn't you ever play Grand Theft Auto?"

"No," he muttered and Andre gestured for them to sit down.

"Very quickly, I have a contract for you to sign. The big Hyde Park Festival, they want you to open it."

"You're kidding," Paige cried and looked as her agent pulled a wad of paper from his briefcase. "Seriously. Why the hell... don't they know everyone hates us?"

"The sort of people that go to music festivals quite like you," Andre reminded her. "As do the people at Incredible Talents." His eyes wandered to Claire who blushed. "And they are going to pay fifty thousand pounds for you." He hesitated and then cleared his throat. "OK, they were going to pay thirty, and I beat them up to fifty! It's not a vast amount, but you are an addition to the line-up to boost sales, so it was worth it for them."

"What? Fifty thousand? That's like massive," Paige cried.

"You underestimate, Paige, how much money you've made," Andre told her with a smile. "I reckon you are looking at around six hundred grand."

Paige spluttered and gripped the side of the table. "That's over a hundred and fifty each after your cut! Wow!"

"No Paige, that's six hundred grand each, after expenses, and my cut," Andre replied with a smile and Paige spluttered and grinned.

"You better be teasing me."

"We got over two million owed or in an account with the music sales, and stuff. I need to get you talking to an accountant to sort this stuff out."

"Wow, Christ. I'm rich?" She asked with a scowl. "I'm actually rich?" She looked at Claire and Jack. "Did you know 'bout this?"

"Not the amount," Claire told her. "We need to get it all sorted with an accountant, pay tax and stuff, but yes, we are well-off."

"Yeah," Andre told her. "It can wait until after the concert though, I got to get away for a couple of days. But when we get back, get you chatting to an accountant."

"Oh," Jack muttered. "Isn't it important?"

Andre looked at Claire. "I thought Claire was off anyway seeing relatives?"

Paige glanced over at Claire who nervously bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah. Sick grandparents. South Coast," she gulped.

"Right, well," Jack muttered and looked up at Paige. "Guess it's just us two."

"Yeah," Paige muttered. "Oh, and Andre. Any chance of putting a complaint into the Police? The way those bastards dragged me to the car this morning. No dignity at all."

Andre nodded. "I'll get the solicitor to stop off and see you," he promised and then looked at the contract in Jack's hand. "You want to do the festival?"

He glanced over to Claire who nodded. "Yeah, it'll be exciting," she said, smiling as Jack flicked through the legal document. "Why not?"

"I'm not sure it's worth getting out of bed for a measly fifty grand," Paige teased and smiled. "Of course, I'll do it! I can be naked, can't I?"

"Yes," Andre replied. "I did check that. I do know what you are like, Paige."

"What?" Paige asked.

"Awkward!" Claire responded with a giggle. "Bloody awkward."

* * * * *

"Claire was very keen for us not to join her," Paige moaned as she put on her best dress and smiled at her "date" wearing a suit. "I mean, I can understand it. We've lived on top of each other for months."

Jack chuckled. "Some of us, more than others."

"Hey, you weren't complaining. Sharing a sleeping bag."

"No, I wasn't," Jack reminded her and held the door open for her. She snarled at him as she brushed her long, red hair and applied a few squirts of her perfume, before joining him on the landing.

"I won't wait up," Lucinda teased as they came downstairs and she watched them from her front room. Jack chastised her when he saw she had a whole bottle of wine to herself. "I'm not going to drink one bottle in an evening to myself," she moaned and pulled a second bottle from the floor. "I've got two."

"Aunty, we need to talk," Jack muttered.

"I'm fine," she said, dismissing her concerned nephew. "And don't keep your young lady waiting."

"I won't." He frowned and crossed his arms. "But you need to stop this drinking and..."

"I am not drinking it on my own," she snapped. "I am expecting company."

"Ohhhh," Paige taunted. "Anyone we know."

"It does not matter," she was told. "Now off you go."

Jack hummed. "Just don't do something stupid, like accept a marriage proposal!"

"I won't," she replied. "I've got enough toasters!"

Jack shook his head and escorted Paige out of their front door. They expected journalists to be waiting for them, but it was a cold night and they had decamped from outside Lucinda's drive to the subtler location of inside a handful of cars parked on the private road.

Paige grumbled as they drove past. "Can you stop for a moment?" She asked, and Jack looked at her as she did. "I just want a quick word with them."

"Paige, please."

"What? Stop. Please." Jack reluctantly slowed the vehicle and Paige got out the car, walking towards a little Ford Fiesta parked by the side of the road with blacked-out windows. She saw the occupants move as she tapped on the window and Jack got out of his car to watch. "Open," she barked and the car window slid down. "Just so you know," she shouted at the middle-aged man sat inside the vehicle so that the entire street could hear. "My band mate and I are going to a restaurant together because we are fed up being stuck in the house. Claire has gone to see her relatives and we are going to the Old Ship Inn, about five miles away. We have a table booked for seven, and I am probably going to order something unhealthy, and Jack will moan at me for doing so. I will have a double vodka and lemonade and chocolate dessert. I am wearing red knickers with a matching bra, and... er... I think that's it." She glared at him. "What no photographs?"

"Listen love, if you don't want the press to..."

"I am helping you," Paige said with an ominous smile. "So you can sod off outside the house. So sling your hook." She looked at Jack watching her and shrugged.

"Oh, and missy. Your friend ain't with relatives. She's gone with that agent of yours. We saw them buying tents this morning."

"You what?" Paige snorted and shook her head. "I don't think so." Jack watched as Paige walked towards him, shaking her hips from side to side and then getting into Jack's vehicle. "That showed them."

"You gave them everything they wanted."

"Yes, and hopefully they will go from outside our house. Well, your Aunt's house."

"I am not quite sure that's how it works," Jack muttered as he pulled away from where he was parked. "And I bet we are in the newspapers tomorrow as we leave the pub."

"I hope not," Paige replied. "You didn't really believe me when I said I would have one double vodka and lemonade?" It took Jack around fifteen minutes to drive to the pub in the tail end of the rush hour traffic, and he pulled up in the car park and scanned the other vehicles as he got out of his car. Paige's teeth chattered. "What are you looking for?" Paige asked as she waited for her date, and crossed her arms. "It's bloody cold."

"Should have worn a coat then," Jack muttered and turned to look at her. "Just looking for paparazzi," he whispered.

"They could be anywhere," Paige teased and grabbed hold of his hand. "So what if they are around? I think I look pretty nice tonight. And I think you look pretty good."

"It's just... weird. Why are we appearing in so many newspapers? So what if we have a best-selling album and a single and a..."

"A story," Paige told him. "That's what Andre says, we are a story!"

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" Jack suggested as he pushed open the door to the pub.

"Yes," Paige admitted. "I think it's exciting." She looked at her partner and grinned as she took his hand. "All my life I've loved making music and wished I could be successful. I never thought I would, and I would be too scared, but now people are listening. And they are loving it. Soon they'll get bored of us as a story, but our music will live on. Doesn't that excite you?"

Jack snorted. "I guess." Her eyes narrowed. "I just wish I could get some escape from it all."

"You sound just like Claire."
  24. # Chapter XXIII

Jack opened the door to his vehicle and inwardly groaned. There were several cars at unnatural angles in the pub car park, and he looked at Paige. "Not again!"

Paige squinted. "I'm too drunk to say anything," she told him but gave him a grin. "But come here." She fell against the car as she scooted around the vehicle and threw her hands around her band mate, kissing him on the cheek, in full view of the cars. "Thank you," she said loudly. "Thank you for a fantastic night."

"Paige, what are you doing?" Jack whispered into her ear.

"Teasing," she sniggered. "Let's not end it here," she broadcast loudly. "And Jack, where are your hands going!"

Jack rolled his eyes and pulled away from Paige. "Can we go home?" He asked in an annoyed voice and Paige blew him a kiss and trotted around his car to the passenger side of the car. "What the hell was that for?" He asked as she joined him in the car.

"OK chill," Paige spat. "You know what they wanted."

"But why do you insist on trying to give it to them?" Jack asked as he started the engine. "We are going to be all over the papers now."

"We were always going to be all over the papers," Paige replied. "At least this way we have some idea of the story they are going to run." She smiled and pulled a funny face at him. "Laugh!" She poked her tongue out and wiggled it as he looked away.

"Stop it!" He barked. "I'm driving."

"Angry Jack is boring Jack," Paige teased. "And according to the papers we are... what's the word... romantically attached." Jack grunted and swung the car onto the main road. "And probably we will be having a night of knee-trembling passion." She put her hands on his and stretched her legs into the footwell. "Of course, if we open the bedroom windows, I am sure I can fake an orgasm loud enough for them to hear," she teased.

"You will not," Jack demanded and looked at his band mate bursting into hysterics.

"S'ok, I wasn't really going to." She rubbed her hand along the back of Jack's hand, resting on the gear stick. "I don't know how to fake one," she said with a glint in her eye. "But thanks, it's been a great evening. I've really enjoyed myself. I mean, I know you are a posh bastard, and all that, but when you want to, you can actually be quite nice."

"I think that's a compliment," he told her. "But I am not sure it was meant as one."

Paige shrugged and watched the small town whizz past her window. They travelled and chatted warmly on the short journey before overtaking some ominously parked vehicles and pulling into Lucinda's driveway.

"Lucinda really did have company," Paige cried as Jack had to navigate around the large, rusting salon car with a smirk. "The old fox."

"That's my aunt your talking about!"

"Chill," Paige barked and grinned.

"OK, we better go in the back way."

"You must be joking!" Paige cried and got out the car. "I want to meet her new fella." Jack pulled a face at her, but the drunken girl just snorted. "She's hardly likely to be screwing on the rug in the lounge, is she?"

"Paige..." Jack called, but his date was impatient and she grabbed him by the hand and swayed from side to side as he unlocked the door. "You know, I think you are too wild for me when you've had a drink!"

"I'm too wild for you when I ain't had a drinkie!" Paige cried and burst into the hallway, looking towards the open lounge door, from where they heard voices.

"You're back?" Lucinda called out, and Paige bit her lip as her head poked through the open doorway.

"Paige," Jack hissed, but the tipsy girl ignored him.

"Hi," she muttered and looked at the table in the middle of the room. Three wine bottles sat on the table, and Lucinda followed Paige's gaze.

"Don't tell Jack," she pleaded.

"Don't tell me what?" Her nephew asked and crossed his arms as he came into the room and groaned. "That's a lot of bottles, Aunty and..."

"Don't start," she snapped and gestured towards Paige and Jack. "No need for introductions, right?"

Paige frowned as she looked at the balding man sat opposite Jack's aunt. "Why?"

Lucinda froze and looked at her partner and then at the two teenagers by the door. "You've not met?"

"No," they replied in unison.

Lucinda sniggered. "Paige, Jack. This is your agent, Greg."

* * * * *

"It's nice," Andre admitted as he held Claire's hand. They sat on the picnic rug by the lake, and she looked across at him, smiling.

"I know. It's one of my favourite places."

"It's where you met Paige, right?"

Claire shook her head. "No," she said as she opened the rucksack containing a sparse picnic. "That was... a different site. Umm, this is much smaller. That's why it's got fewer facilities. But it has this lake in the forest." She shrugged and smiled. "I got my first kiss, at this lake. Hell, actually. I got my only kiss at this lake."

Andre giggled. "Marie Jamieson. Year seven disco. Mind you, she kissed everyone. No-one ever forgets their first kiss. Soft lips." He rubbed his lip as he smiled. "She's now works in a prison, so I doubt she kisses quite as much."

"You never know," Claire joked and passed her companion a bag of crisps, an apple and some foil wrapped sandwiches. The naked man took them and looked back at her. "So how is your first proper naturist holiday?"

Andre took a bite of his sandwich, so he didn't have to answer immediately and then stretched. "It's... umm... it's a bit basic."

"They are a bit more basic in this country," Claire responded. "We've been abroad. Mum and Dad and me, and it's bigger over there. I mean, this is a nice site, and we come regularly, but they do whole Center Parcs style stuff abroad." Andre smiled as she spoke. "But what about it, you seem happier now?"

"So do you," Andre replied. "You're not as stressed."

"And neither are you."

"It's only you and your friends that make me stressed. You know, I am doing a serious amount of work for next to no commission." Claire glared at him. "OK, not as high commission as I am used to."

"That's better," Claire told him and leant across. "But you get the wonderfulness of my company."

Andre went to speak, but the look on Claire's face stopped him, and he sighed. "OK. I am very grateful you chose me. I know there were bigger agents out there wanting you."

"We went with the one who we felt we could trust," Claire admitted. "And I can't imagine any of the arrogant twats who visited us that day who would take their client to a naturist resort for a couple of days to help her unwind. They'd just check her into Champneys or the Priory."

"Yeah... well... that's umm... ahem," Andre stumbled, and Claire opened her bag of crisps.

"It is appreciated," she told him. "I'm glad we came. A rest is just what I needed. Paige just seems to go forever, and Jack will do whatever Paige says, but I like my slow pace of life." She leant back on the rug and looked up at the sky. "What can you see in the clouds?"

Andre looked up, and Claire beckoned her holiday partner to lie on the rug next to her. "That one there, looks just like a car," Andre suggested, and Claire hummed. "And that one is a guitar."

"Maybe," she said and put her hand in his grasp. "And if you look really closely, that one's cloud-shaped." Andre laughed at her and squeezed her hand. "I could lie here all day talking to you. And just chill."

Andre sighed and smiled at her. "I could lie here all day, too."

"Well you better, I'm not going anywhere," she said with a smile and touched his thigh with her hands. She adjusted herself on the blanket and sighed before closing her eyes. "Lovely," she whispered.

* * * * *

"Paige, this is a really bad idea."

"It's a really good idea," Jack was told angrily as Paige browsed the shelves of the shop. He pulled his hood over his head and glanced up and down the aisle.

"Paige, seriously..."

"Oh what?" Paige spat and glared at him. "I want to get some of this stuff without being noticed. This is the last thing I want to be on the front page of the sodding tabloids with. It'd spoil everything." Jack pulled his jacket hood further over his head, and Paige snarled at him. "You are really not blending in."

"Oh relax. Everyone is always shifty in shops like this. But this is a terrible idea. What if..."

"You know what was said last night. Before your aunt asking us if she needed to let you have any condoms."

"Don't," Jack told his friend. "That was embarrassing."

"I think it was more embarrassing when she asked me if I had a preferred brand or flavour," Paige sniggered. "And then recommending the ribbed ones for the ultimate in pleasure and..."

"Just don't remind me," Jack interrupted. "I've not been so embarrassed for years!"

Paige shrugged. "It's only natural, y'know. Can't believe you went so red!" She hummed and then looked on the shelf, taking a small box from the shelf and turning it over in her hand. "Looks fine," she told him and raised her eyebrows at him. "Do you want to check? It's got everything on the box, battery life sounds fine. I'll just have to turn it on when I am ready."

"Paige," Jack moaned. "I am really not comfortable about this."

Paige opened her hands and smirked. "It's the only way, Jack. And it will work, trust me," she promised.

"It better," Jack replied, sharply, and Paige reached over and kissed him on the lips.

"It will," she whispered. "I'm looking forward to it. I think we'll have some fun with this."

* * * * *

Claire passed Andre the collapsed tent in its bag, and he loaded it into his car. "You can't be doing that badly out of us," Claire suggested. "You have a new car."

"No," Andre admitted. "We aren't doing too badly from your success. Ummm... but we are working for it."

Claire rubbed her hair and smoothed the clothes on her agent. "I know. And I think it's good that you have done well. You deserve it." She batted her eyes at him as she smiled. "And as we are getting popular..." She started.

"Yes I know. The amount of people contacting us about representing them," Andre moaned. "You name it. Please do for us what you did for the Bare Necessities." Claire laughed.

"But... we did most of that."

"Maybe they should just employ you," Andre teased and then he bit his lip. "We've been so busy. We even had a couple think I was Max Clifford. I had a young lady come to see me and say that your biggest fan had been forcing her into sex since she was 14, and could she get herself into the papers."

"Our biggest fan?" Claire asked with a scowl. "Who? Paul?"

"No," Andre snapped. "Peter Moran. She came and said she had proof. I told her to go the Police but I don't know if she did. But that's not to go any further, because I don't know if that's true."

"Who is she?"

"Some neighbour or something. But this is not to go any further, Claire. I shouldn't have told you. And you are not to tell Paige; she'll only go and shoot her mouth off and we can't prove any of it, and she will get sued. You know how libel-happy Peter Moran is."

Claire smiled. "I won't tell her," she promised and hummed. "Are all your stories like that? Can't prove 'em"

"I can prove some of them," Andre replied. "But we choose not to."

Claire giggled. "Some of those stories you told me last night about wild clients. And would-be clients. You should write a book."

Andre sighed. "That would not go down very well with our clients. They value discretion. And the wildest ones, I can't tell even you."

"Ahh, and there was me thinking I could trust you," Claire teased.

"You can," Andre panicked. "You..."

"I know I can," Claire replied and opened the door to his brand new hatchback. "I wouldn't have let you sign us if I couldn't have trusted you. I wouldn't have come on this holiday with you. And last night wouldn't have happened." Her eyes lowered, and she bit her lip. "I like you Andre."

Andre shrugged. "I like you too."

"No, you don't get it. I like you as in, I really like you." Andre coughed, and Claire beamed at him. "I think Paige is really quite domineering, and you are always so calm when you deal with her. And, you are good at listening, and you are really genuine." Claire blushed and looked away.

Andre put his rucksack on the floor and opened his arms. "I really like you too," he said, embracing the teenager with a broad smile. "How the hell you can cope with Paige's energy, I will never, ever know!"

"She's just full of beans," Claire replied. "A lust for life."

"You weren't so bad yourself last night," he teased and Claire blushed.

"Yeah, don't tell the others 'bout that," she pleaded. "I don't want twenty questions."

"I am always discreet," Andre promised and he kissed his new girlfriend. "You know that!"

* * * * *

"Are you still moaning?" Paige told her companion as he pulled into the leafy Southend street that marked their destination "You heard what Greg said. This doesn't end until one of us stops it."

"But Paige, this is going to end badly. Trust me on this."

"Well have you got any better ideas?" Jack hummed at her. "See told you. Now shut up and park the car."

"Do you even know what number she lives at?"

"Yep. Oh, don't look at me like that. Her address is on the website of Christian Outrage. They are a charity or a non-profit or something. It's the law."

"Wow. You found that."

"No. Lucinda did." Paige smirked at her friend. "She's been very helpful. Once I explained our plan."

"Don't even go there," Jack moaned as he stopped the car next to a tree. Paige opened the box and took out some jewellery, fixing a broach to her T-shirt, and she winked at him.

"Let's go and sort this out," she said confidently, and the couple disembarked from the vehicle. They probably could have guessed which house belonged to Sue Garratt without the address as only one property had the Christian symbol by the front door and a psalm carved onto wood hanging over the porch.

"Nervous?"

"Course not," Paige lied and rang the doorbell of the property. They heard movement from behind the glass fronted door, and Paige grinned at her partner.

"What are you two doing here? It's harassment, this is?"

Paige gestured behind her. "There are no cameras, Sue. No paps. Just you and us."

"Our spat, Mrs Garratt," Jack said anxiously. "We want it to end."

"Well you know what you have to do to make it end," the Christian said firmly. "But I fear that you don't want to repent."

Paige beamed. "We want to talk," she said in an unnaturally sweet voice. "And come to an agreement."

"What she means is, is that we want to talk to you. This isn't a set up, there's no cameras, there's no publicity. Our agent doesn't know we are here. Neither does Claire. It's just us and you."

Sue whistled while she weighed up the faces of the two teenagers and looked at both of them in turn, clearly trying to read their minds. She sniffed, and the white-haired battleaxe opened the door. "Come in then, let's talk."

Paige smiled at Jack and entered the musty household. It was clean and impeccably presented, but there were an incredible number of ornaments and paintings on the old-fashioned wallpaper. Sue showed them to the red and cream living room, decorated in flowery wallpaper with over 100 figurines around the room.

Paige and Jack sat on the cream sofa, and Paige turned to face Sue as she lowered herself onto her chair. "We want to tone down, the rhetoric," Jack asked her. "I don't think it's good for you and I don't think it's good for us."

Sue Garratt considered this for a moment. "Are you going to keep making those abominable shows? Enticing our youth into immorality and depravity. Turning them against the Lord's words?"

Paige bit her lip. "We will be naturists, yes. But naturism isn't against the teachings of the bible," Jack asserted. "It's non-sexual nudity."

"Adam and Eve were ashamed of their nudity," Sue told them. "Isaiah Chapter 47 Verse 3. Your nakedness shall be uncovered, and your disgrace shall be seen. Ezekiel Chapter 16 Verse 35. O prostitute, hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord God, Because your lust was poured out and your nakedness uncovered in your whorings with your lovers, and with all your abominable idols, and because of the blood of your children that you gave to them."

"I am not a prostitute," Paige barked.

Sue laughed. "You are a prostitute in every way. Adhering to the nasty and vile demands of your puppetmasters for a few shillings of dirty money. And Revelations Chapter 17. And the ten horns that you saw, they and the beast will hate the prostitute. They will make her desolate and naked, and devour her flesh and burn her up with fire. You my dear, are already naked, you shall be made desolate and your flesh devoured."

"I do not know what to say," Paige muttered and clenched her fists.

Jack pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. "How about 'The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame. Can we not agree to disagree on the subject of our nakedness?"

Sue shook her head. "Not while you are spewing the dangerous images into our society. We are outraged."

"You are having a membership boost," Paige reminded her and smiled. "Your website says that membership applications, with the membership fee, are taking a bit longer to process because you've got too many."

"Unprecedented demand was what was said," Jack told her friend, and they looked at Sue with wide smiles. "So your outrage is just a marketing exercise, right?"

Sue gulped. "No. Now I think it's a good idea if you leave. I've heard enough. You have no wish to repent your sins and..."

"We are thinking are making a donation," Paige offered with a forced smile as Jack's eyes widened. "For your good work of course. I mean, there are hundreds, thousands of music bands who sing about worshipping Satan and all that. Why pick on us? If we give you some money, then you can go picket someone else."

Sue looked directly at Paige and pursed her lips. "What makes you think that we can be bought?"

"Because I looked... well Jack's aunt looked... at some of your press releases. They all follow a similar pattern. Get worked up, loads of releases, tail off and pick a new target. And shortly afterwards there is a Christian church, or school, or project gets a bundle of money from you. So who is it, and how much?"

Sue smiled. "Very enterprising. I'm almost impressed." Paige shrugged. "It normally takes a bit longer for the immoral heathens to crumble."

"Come on then, who and how much? We have to go back and sell it to Claire, so we need to know how much you want."

Sue bit her lip. "There's a... er... well there's a playgroup that's about to made homeless. They need to buy the centre."

"How much?" Paige insisted.

"I do not talk money in my house," Sue replied tersely. "But it is a sizeable sum."

"And if we don't, you will continue causing trouble for us?"

"You are violating the good word of God," Sue snapped at her. "I can't be expected to say nothing." Paige sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "The playgroup is on London Road. The site goes for auction in ten days."

Paige got up from her chair and looked at Jack. "We'll see ourselves out," she told their host and gestured for Jack to get up from his seat. "And we'll think about it. We'll talk to Claire."

Sue used the arms of her sedan chair to pull herself upright, and she looked at the fiery redhead. "You lot always settle," she told her. "It's easier that way. The pub did, the brothel did, the gambling den did. You will."

Paige smiled. "I am sure we will," she promised and strode down the hall to the front door. Paige practically ran to the car and looked behind her at Jack shaking his head.

"That wasn't part of the plan," he said to his friend fiercely as they entered the car.

"It was," Paige replied. "Your aunt and I had a chat last night after you went to bed. We just couldn't tell you, but it was always part of the plan. But the dodgy bitch. She's bent."

"Yeah, and..."

"... and we just got to tell everyone," Paige added. "Just tell the world what a nasty piece of work she is. And then we are done."

"Yeah, of course." Jack snapped. "How easy! Our word against her's."

Paige smiled and tapped her broach. "I'm sure we'll be believed," she said with a smile. "We are the Bare Necessities. We don't have any secrets, do we?"
  25. # Chapter XXIV

Jack and Paige traipsed through the front door of Lucinda's house, and Paige closed it firmly. "Can't they give it a rest?" She moaned and nodded towards the locked door. "Two of them outside."

"Price of fame," Jack muttered. "You wanted it."

Paige hummed and opened the door to the lounge, looking at their band mate sat on the chair. "A little birdie told me that you've been off with Andre." Claire bit her lip. "Is that true?"

She hesitated. "Well... sort of." She stretched her legs and smiled at the talented redhead who didn't return it. "I needed to get away and have a break and... well... Andre did too."

Paige snorted. "You didn't need to lie. You said you were going to see family. Was it good?" Claire nodded. "Was Andre any good?" Claire blushed, but the teasing Paige didn't see her embarrassment, as she turned to look at the letterbox that rattled open, and an envelope came through the door.

Paige reached down to pick it up and instinctively held it out to Lucinda, who shrieked."I bet it's from your father," Jack was told, and he groaned. "It's got your name on it. But I think I know what is in it, and I want you to throw it away without opening it."

Jack looked at the pale white envelope and ran his fingers over the top of it. "I think I know as well."

"Well I don't. What is it?" Paige asked anxiously, and Jack rubbed his nose.

"Errr... it will be my dad telling me to stop... well, this," he replied tersely."

"So, what's new?"

"No, Paige. You don't understand. It will be telling Jack to make a choice."

"I don't care about it," Jack hurriedly cried.

"No. It's his final ultimatum. This way or his way." Lucinda muttered. "I'll throw it away. And I'll tell Paul I never gave it to you."

"No," Jack ordered and held the envelope out of reach of his aunt. Paige grabbed the white piece of paper and backing away from Jack, tore it open. "It's mine," he cried and snatched the crumpled up page from his friend.

"Then read it," Paige demanded with a fierceness in her voice. "Read it. See what he has to say."

"I know what he is going to say," he spat. "And I don't want to."

Paige looked at him in his eyes and blinked. "You mean you don't want to read it in front of me."

"No. It will be him threatening to cut my inheritance," Jack murmured. "He told me last week."

"And you didn't tell us," Paige said with wide eyes.

He shrugged. "Why does it matter? It's not you, it's me."

"Oh, so you are going to walk away from your inheritance?" Paige sarcastically shouted. "And everything else?"

"Well I am here, not with him, so I guess that answers the question," Jack shouted back.

"Jack," Lucinda called. "It is not going to just be the inheritance. Twenty-seven years ago, your father gave me a letter like that from your grandfather and it was that which caused Robert to flee. So I know exactly what is in it."

"What? What's the worse he can do?" Paige asked the pale woman, and she gestured towards her nephew. "I can't stop him. I couldn't twenty-seven years ago and I can't now. I can only tell you that I wish I had stood up to my father."

Paige reached forward and grabbed the paper from her friend. Jack shouted in anger, but Paige put her hand out to stop the man from approaching her, and she read it out. "Jack. You will know that we all detest the stupid situation you are in and I have tried threatening to remove your inheritance, but you will not see sense. I know you are due to play at Hyde Park Festival tonight. I will be in the Emerald Hotel on Park Lane in suite 601 until midday tomorrow. If you are not there by then and promise to stop this stupidity, you will never be welcome at our home or to be with us again." Paige looked up at her friend and bit her lip. "The... bastard. It goes on about throwing your life away and stuff. How can he do this to his own son?"

Lucinda cleared her throat. "Because... he's turned into a bastard."

"Well it's easy," Paige replied as she passed the letter back to Jack. "Tell him to do one, it's not his life."

"It's a big decision," Lucinda replied and looked at her nephew. "A very big decision."

"Is it bollocks?" Paige shouted. She looked at Claire and Jack and then at Lucinda. "It all depends on whether Jack has a spine or not."

"You are asking him to sacrifice his family," Lucinda said a quiet voice. "It's... I gave in. Or more to the point, my partner gave in 'cause he could see what it was doing to me. That was your father, so I don't think you understand..."

"I do," Paige interrupted and looked at her friend. "So, OK, what's it to be? Us or them?"

"Paige," Claire called.

"No," she girl shouted. "I am asking Jack. Do we count for anything? Do I count for anything?"

Jack thought and wiped his eyes. "It's a... it's..."

"Oh for Christ's sake," Paige cried and stormed towards the door. "Spineless posh bastard," she muttered. She turned and looked at him. "I thought we really had something."

"It's so easy for you," Claire yelled back. "It's not you that has to choose."

"No," Paige shouted back. "But if I did, I wouldn't even need to think about." She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I need to use the laptop, and then we better go. If this is going to be our last performance we better make it pretty awesome."

* * * * *

"There's a problem," Andre told them. "The organisers have been told that if you are going to headline the act..."

"... We can't be naked," Paige finished for him. "Well they can do one."

"Paige, listen. I know it's not as comfortable for you, but they have told me that you will be arrested."

Paige shook her head. "Sorry. This could be our last gig, it's got to be perfect."

"Last gig?" Andre asked and looked at Claire.

"I'll tell you later," Claire promised. "I hope not. Jack has family problems."

"But you can do one thing for me," Paige said and pushed into Andre's hand a home-burnt DVD. "That big screen up there. We can use that while we do our act, can't we?"

"Err... I think so."

"Andre, this is extremely urgent. I read the contract, and there was a piece in it there. Now I can promise ya, this ain't got any nudity or swearing on it, but at the end of the show I will ask you to play it, and I want you to play it. With sound. It's a sort of thank you. Can you do that?"

"Paige, what is it?" Claire asked in a concerned voice and Paige smiled.

"Please, Andre. Just do it. It's really important to me."

Andre looked at her and hesitated. "Hey, Andre, you've made a pretty packet out of us, it ain't much," Claire told him, and he reluctantly agreed.

"If I get arrested..." Andre moaned, and Paige looked at him.

"You aren't going to get arrested. And it's up to Jack here. After the gig, he has to decide to come with us and do a tour, make a second album, and who knows what else. Or go and work with his dad." Andre blinked and looked at the man.

"I told you," Jack sighed. "I love being here."

"No offence," Paige spat. "But I saw your face. I'll believe you when you are with me at gone midday tomorrow."

Jack shrugged and ran his hands through his fair hair. A runner knocked on the door, and Paige grabbed a T-shirt that Andre held out for her. "I'd strongly advise," he started, and Paige snorted.

"I know," Paige interrupted, and Claire picked up a T-shirt from Andre.

"And thank you," Claire whispered to him. "I do appreciate your efforts."

"Well I'm glad someone does," he moaned and watched as his beautiful girlfriend put a T-shirt over her shoulders to cover her body to her thigh.

"Hey, Good Luck," Andre told Jack as he passed him the biggest T-shirt.

Jack sighed. "Cheers."

"Last gig?"

Jack shrugged. "Paige seems so keen for me to prove her right. I keep wanting to tell her how I feel, but I'm starting to believe she doesn't want to hear it." Andre's smile disappeared.

"I'm sure she does. She's just... Paige."

Jack smiled. "I better go," Jack muttered. "I'll see you at the Police Station."

Paige strutted on stage to raucous applause and waved across the park. There were several large screens dotted around the grounds and thousands of people in front of her screaming in ecstasy as the diminutive singer took the microphone. "Hi," she yelled and her voice echoed off several objects as it came out of dozens of speakers. She smiled. "This is the biggest audience I've ever played to," she told them, and there was a small cheer from the crowd. "And this could be our last gig." She gulped and looked behind her at Jack. "Someone has to make a decision. But I have never sung in public with crap on." She tugged at the plain white T-shirt and scanned the crowd. "So who here, wants me to take it off?"

There was a loud thunderous cheer from underneath her, and Paige smiled. She put the microphone back on its stand, pulled her T-shirt from underneath her and threw it into the audience. "I am so getting arrested later," she promised the crowd, and turned to face her band mates. They shrugged at her, and Claire put her guitar between her legs and took her T-shirt off, with Jack following the lead of his two band mates. "Hot N Cold?" Paige asked, and they launched into their rendition of Katy Perry's classic.

It was a warm night, and Paige managed to get several of her fans to strip to the waist, and a few to strip completely naked. She persuaded a young lady to join her on stage as they massacred Bad Reputation, but the Bare Necessities were permitted ninety minutes on stage, and that gave them ample time to complete their album, plus interact with the audience.

Paige had noticed four Police officers gathering at the side of the stage and she took the microphone, pointing to them. "I said I was going to get arrested, and I think I am," she said. "This is the end of our bit. There are some great acts to come. But before we go..." Paige skipped to the end of the stage away from the Police officers gathering in the wings. "... And before I get arrested," she said to boos from the audience. "Andre, press play please. This is what happened when we secretly recorded our visit to Christian Outrage." The Police officers strode onto the stage as a chorus of boos rang out, and Paige went behind Claire and Jack, still with the microphone. "This is taken from my special broach," she shouted. "It's got a video camera on it. And it shows what nasty people Christian Outrage are."

Paige was bundled to the floor as the inside of Jack's car came into view on the big screen and thousands of people turned to watch as the two teenagers walked towards Sue Garratt's house.

Paige kicked back at the Police officers and wiggled free, dancing to the front of the stage and away from their grasp. She swung her hips to the side as they came to get her, and Paige skipped free from their reach and ran towards the side of the stage, pushing another officer to the floor with her hand. She just made it to the edge of the platform when a fourth Police officer bundled her to the ground and took some handcuffs from his pocket.

"You're nicked," he hissed into her ear, just as Sue's voice came over the speakers.

* * * * *

"And sign there, please," Paige was asked and passed a pen by the Police Officer. Paige scribbled the document in front of her and she looked up at the solicitor watching her with Andre hovering behind. "Where's Claire and Jack?"

Andre sighed. "Claire is umm... well she's waiting for you in a side room."

"And Jack?"

"Ummm..."

"Bastard's left hasn't he?"

Andre shrugged. "Sorry Paige. His father came when Claire was released a couple of hours ago."

Paige turned to the custody sergeant. "Why the hell was I kept for two more hours?"

"Because only one of you was arrested for assault of a Police Officer and resisting arrest," she was told assertively. "Your two colleagues were more cooperative."

"Well colleagues is a bit strong now, isn't it?" Paige snorted and wiped her eyes. "Oh, and while I am here, I would like to make a complaint."

The sergeant sighed. "What is it now?"

"I would like to report blackmailing. That's against the law isn't it? Trying to get money to stop doing something."

"Paige?" Andre called, and the teenager held out her hand to her agent.

"DVD please?"

"What?"

"The DVD you played, can I have it?" Andre fished around in the side pockets of his jacket and passed it to her. "Evidence. I guess you may have seen it at the festival."

"I think he probably saw it on the news," Andre informed the indignant young lady. "Someone uploaded it onto the Internet."

"Oh yeah, that was me. But I want to make a Police complaint."

"I can certainly get someone to take a statement," he offered, but Andre stepped in.

"Another time. Paige, we have a press conference." Paige went to speak, and Andre looked at her. "I have already made a complaint and they will need to get a statement from you, but now is really not the time."

Paige grunted and tutted. "I'll be back," she warned the sergeant and snatched at her belongings that were taken from their dressing room when she was arrested. Claire leapt up from her chair and wrapped her arms around her friend when she entered the small "relatives room" and looked at the long T-shirt and shorts Paige was wearing.

"They don't go," she teased.

"Well blame your bloody boyfriend," Paige muttered. "I was arrested with nothing on, remember?"

Claire cocked her head at Andre who held his hands up. "Sorry. I just thought something was better than nothing." She snorted.

"Well Claire's are fine."

Andre shook his head. "Hey, and who said he was my boyfriend?" Claire asked her as it dawned on the curvaceous girl what Paige had said. "I..."

Paige just giggled and shrugged. "It's OK. I think you two are good together."

"Hazel was asking after you," Andre told the red-haired girl. "I sent her tickets to Hyde Park. And George for Claire and Harriet for Jack. I know Hazel came, 'cause I saw her."

"And you didn't tell me?" Paige thundered.

"Hey, look, I was busy getting your revenge on the screen, getting you legal representation, getting clothes down here, organising a press conference. I've not slept for 24 hours because of you," Andre replied, a little angrily.

"Well come on then, let's do this press conference. It'll be a horrible one to do. Where is it? On the steps of Police Station?"

"The Wandsworth Hotel," Andre told her. "And Greg is down there, and he said they cannot fit the amount of press in to the room. I have written a statement for you after Jack left and..."

"I don't need it," Paige said, dismissively. "I know what I want to say."

"Well I think something balanced. So you don't get lost for words and..."

"I never get lost for words." She pushed past him and shrugged. "Well come on."

Claire looked apologetically at Andre. "This could end very badly," Claire whispered.

* * * * *

The pained face of Jenny Ashridge took the stage a few cameras flashed. "This is just a short statement, from the trustees of Christian Outrage," she said and had to clench her fists to stop her hands from shaking. She blinked a few times and focused on the text.

"We are deeply troubled by the allegations of criminal conduct and subsequent arrest of our founder and leader Sue Garratt. It would be inappropriate for the trustees to comment further while there is an ongoing Police investigation."

The PR lady coughed and rubbed her nose. "It is our belief that Sue Garratt acted below the standards we expect of all our members, and it is with great sadness that we, the trustees, are to disband Christian Outrage."

There was a few further clicks of the cameras and Jenny took a sip from the glass of water on the table. "There is a great need for Christian morals to be presented to our mainstream media, who too often focus on the tacky, immoral and unhealthy elements to deprave and tarnish our society and the trustees will work to ensure any remaining funds are diverted to a good cause. Thank you."

Jenny got up from the chair and looked at the handful of journalists. "Printed copies of the statement will be available."

"What do you make of the news that Bare Necessities are splitting up?" A lone voice spoke.

Jenny turned to look at the gum chewing journalist with dirty fingernails and a stained jacket. She clenched her fists. "I... I... I... I think that they are dirty, scheming rat bags and will be forced into the fires of hell for all eternity," Jenny spat. "To be so underhand and nasty to such a nice woman. It's evil. No good will come of that girl," Jenny ranted, and the journalist smiled.

"Thank you," he said sweetly and stopped the dictaphone; he had his story for the paper.

* * * * *

Jack sat on the end of the bed watching the rolling news channel. "Hey, the rest of your life starts now," he was told. "I can't say I'm not disappointed in you," his father said and packed the last of his belongings into the bag. "I can't say I'm not angry. I mean, that Paige, she's a dirty little tramp, we can all see that. I can see why your head got turned. But hey, that's just growing up."

"She was wonderful," Jack muttered. "Absolutely wonderful."

"She was a..." His father stopped as Jack watched Paige, and Claire emerge from the Police station and Andre step in front of the two to tell the press pack that a press conference would be taking place in the next twenty minutes and Jack felt a tear come to his eye. "Stop this!" His father ordered and switched the television off as "BREAKING NEWS: BARE NECESSITIES SPLIT" appeared on the bottom of the screen. "It's over."

"But... why?"

"Why? Because they are going nowhere, you were making fools of yourselves, and there is a perfectly good job for you at my factory."

"Yeah," Jack said and sniffed, getting up from the bed. "Your factory, not mine. This was my band. Sorry, is my band. She was perfect." Jack mumbled and pursed his lips together. "Lucinda said it, and I never listened. Life's too short to let someone else run it for you."

"Someone needs to run it for you when you make such silly decisions," Paul barked aggressively. "I've always done what's best for you."

"No. You've done what's best for you."

"I gave you every present you ever wanted. Recording studio. Guitar. Car. Computer. Driving Lessons."

"You gave me those presents in lieu of a father," Jack shouted. "You did that so you wouldn't feel guilty about not spending time with your son."

"That's not true," Paul shouted back. Jack took a few steps towards the door, and Paul grabbed hold of his son's muscular arms. "Where are you going?"

"This life," Jack shouted and pointed towards his father. "Isn't me. I will not be the person you want me to be. I am an artist, not a businessman. I'm a naturist, not a prude. And most of all, I'm in love. And if I don't tell her now, I will regret it for the rest of my life. Just like Lucinda does. And I won't make the same mistakes she did."

Paul snorted and grabbed hold of his son's arm tightly, but Jack pushed him away and got to the door. "Don't throw your..." He started, but Jack was already racing down the corridor. He reached the stairs and jumped down them two at a time, before emerging into the lobby.

Jack dialled Andre's number on his phone, but it went straight to voicemail so he tried Claire and then Paige, before sending Andre a text message \- "Where is press conf? Urgent. Jack."

"Hell!" Jack shouted into the street and ran down the road, stopping outside an electrical retailer. "Where's the Bare Necessities Press Conference?" He shouted and looked around the shop.

"Can I help you?"

"Where's the press conference?" He pointed to the news channel on the unreasonably large television screens that adorned the shop.

"You want to buy a television?"

"Where's that," he asked as the helicopter view on the television screen showed the black car that Paige and Claire were travelling in. Along the bottom of the screen, there were numerous bullet points relating to their story and Jack panicked.

"That's Chelsea Bridge," he was told. "Can see Battersea Power Station there."

"Which way?"

The man pointed towards to his right, and Jack thanked him as he tore out of the shop, almost knocking over a suited gentleman as he left. Jack sprinted down the road, reaching the junction and heading for Battersea.

His sides started to ache as he dashed down each road, before having to cross another major road at an intersection. Jack felt his pocket vibrate. "Why? Wandsworth Hotel."

"Andre, you beauty," Jack told his phone as he reached Chelsea Bridge. The conference was probably starting, and he still had to find the hotel. He ran across the bridge and stopped on the other side, putting the hotel name into his maps application on his phone. "Come on, come on, come on," he shouted impatiently at his piece of consumer electronics. "You," he shouted at a woman walking past him. "Wandsworth Hotel. Which way, please?"

She hesitated. "Ummm..."

"Quickly. I might lose the love of my life."

"That way, turn right, I think. Third right?"

Jack shouted a "cheers" as he sprinted down the road and skidded as he approached the third road on his right. Facing him was the giant hotel and he ran to the end of small avenue before jumping up the stairs two at a time.

"Where's the Bare Necessities press conference?" He panted at the receptionist who was talking on the telephone. She gestured at him to wait, but the mild-mannered teenager reached over and took the phone from her. "Where is it? It's urgent."

"Oh my God," the receptionist shrieked and he turned to see Paige and Claire sat next to Andre on a television screen in the hotel reception. "In there," she said, pointing towards some double doors. "But it's started."

Jack walked away from the receptionist towards the double doors. "You can't go in," he was told, but he ignored her and stumbled into a long corridor. He could see dozens of people sat on the corridor with laptops and mobile phones and they looked up as he approached the end of the room where all the noise was coming from.

"Jack's arrived," voices whispered, but the keyboardist said nothing and burst into the large conference room at the end of the hallway. Sat on a stage at the end of the room, and lit by powerful spotlights was Paige, Claire and Andre, seated on chairs around a big, long table.

"So with regret," Claire told the audience. "The Bare Necessities are no more." Paige had a stony-faced expression and Jack coughed.

"I hope I'm not too late," he told the room, and Paige's misty eyes turned away from him. The journalists muttered under their breaths as video cameras were turned to face the third member of the band, and he walked down the side of the room to the end of the stage. "'Cause I let someone tell me what to think and do, and I may have made the biggest mistake of my life." He stared at his two former band mates, and he sighed. "And I hope I'm not too late."

He faced the cameras. "That girl. That Paige Simmons is one of the most talented and best singers this country has ever produced. You all know that, that's why our music shot up the charts," he said confidently. "But what you don't know is that she is also the craziest, wildest, most beautiful, kind spirited, charismatic, wonderful person I have met." He looked across at her, and she slowly shook her head. "Are you going to talk to me? Because I want to talk to you."

Paige sniffed. "You're just a posh bastard," she muttered, but her microphone heard it, and her insult was broadcast to the room.

"I was a posh bastard," he admitted. "But for the last two months, I've been just like you." She scratched her head, and Jack gave a smile to the room. He put his hands underneath his T-shirt and lifted it over his head. "I am a naturist, just like Paige. And I am proud to be." He looked at her. "Are you going to talk to me, or do I have to go further?"

Paige wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand and Jack kicked off his trainers. "Hey, Jack, this..." Greg started, and the experienced agent put his hand on Jack's torso, but the determined man searched Paige's face for an expression. He unbuckled his jeans and let them fall to the floor.

"I don't mind you using dessert spoons for your soup, or using me to trap religious fundamentalists, or embarrassing me in front of all the paparazzi," he told her and she looked up at him. "I like sharing double sleeping bags with you, or being dragged off to Southend or being hauled naked through the woods." He smiled at her and, without looking down, pushed his thumbs into his boxer shorts and slid them down to his knees, where they fell to the floor. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I'd love to keep doing what we do."

"You stupid..." Paige murmured and got up from her chair, sniffing.

"I only have Lucinda and you guys now for family," Jack told her. "And am begging for forgiveness. Please, can we go on tour, make a second album. I mean, I think we have a fan-base."

Paige smiled as she navigated around Claire, and put her arms around her well-toned band mate. "You're forgiven," she whispered into his ear. "Just don't do it again!"

They kissed, Jack running his hands over Paige's back as their tongues intertwined and caressed while hundreds of photographers eagerly caught the moment.

"I guess the Bare Necessities are back together," Claire told the excited press pack. "And... umm..." She looked at her boyfriend. "I guess you better sort us out a tour. I fancy, somewhere warm this time of year. The Caribbean, maybe? Oh, and a second album would be great." She looked up at the kissing couple. "And a couple of hotel rooms."

He groaned. "Can't I have just have some time to relax?"

Claire smiled. "Why do you think I asked for two hotel rooms," she said with a glint in her eye and squeezed his hand. "Both doubles, of course!"

* * * * *

"Ahh Paul," the voice cried, and the manager of the factory jumped. He turned around to see the figure of his sister in his chair and an unknown man next to her.

"What's this?" He thundered and looked at Lucinda. "What are you doing here?"

She laughed. "This is a bit awkward, really. I actually don't own 50% of the shares. I actually own 51%. We looked last night. Well Greg did." Lucinda scowled as she spoke and she rubbed her hands, before tapping the desk. "Remember when Dad died, you got 40 shares and Mum got 25, and I got 35. Well when you needed that fantastic new machine, and I leant the factory the money from my second... or is third... I don't know, anyway that divorce, I took Mum's 25 shares and gave her back 18 as the full payment wasn't made, remember?"

Paul hummed. "So?"

"When Mum died, she gave us equal amounts of her shares. It was Dad's idea for having 100 shares, seemed silly to me, but I have 51% of the shares. And I so I have decided to... umm... take control."

"But... but you can't."

"Why not?" Lucinda asked.

"Because you are an alcoholic."

"I am a free spirited drinker when I am not in a relationship," Lucinda reminded him. "But I was not the one nicked for drink driving two weeks ago. Remind me, when is your court date?" Paul snorted, and she turned to her partner. "This is Greg, he has managed one of the most successful agencies in London and is our new Management Consultant."

"I do not need a management consultant."

"No, not you. Me." She smiled at him and pulled out a small folder labelled "accounts." He coughed. "We've looked at these. Did you know that your house is actually owned by this company? Great little tax dodge. And that revenue has declined far greater than the average company in London during the recession. And that..."

"What's your point?"

"The point is that, I am the new big boss. I'm sure I'll get the hang of it. Greg is my assistant and management consultant. He is quite keen to pass his business onto his nephew and go part-time, so working here is fine. And you... well... that position you had for Jack. Supervisor, or Assistant Supervisor. You'll be perfect for it."

Paul's face went purple. "How dare you," he shouted.

"Errr... not a good way to talk to your new manager, is it?" Lucinda asked and smiled. "I can call an Emergency General Meeting. Actually shall we do it now. We have the right people. OK. I propose to sack Paul Rees-Montague. In favour?" She theatrically raised her hand and then nodded. "Carried."

"Why are you doing this? I am a good manager here. We've done all right. And I'm your brother, we're family."

Lucinda snorted. "When you can remember what a family means, I'll think of letting you have your factory back," she told him firmly. "What you tried to do to Jack was nasty. But in the mean time I think you have a factory floor to watch over." He hesitated and Lucinda stretched on the chair, not looking up from the folder. "Unless you want me to reassess our property portfolio and put a nice umpteen bedroom house on Barton Drive up for sale."

He tutted and turned to leave the room. "You're really enjoying this," he spat at his sister.

"Oh, and lunchtime, one o'clock. I want us to go for lunch. Have those brother-sister chats we've never actually had."

Paul didn't respond, and just left the room before closing the door.
  26. # Epilogue

Paige raised her hand and nodded, causing Claire to hiss. "We agreed no more than three hundred!"

"No worries," Paige whispered back. "We got an advance for the tour, we can cover it."

"Paige, I know that." Claire whispered anxiously as her friend raised her hand again with a smile. "Jack's going to kill us."

"No, he won't," the red-haired girl said with a grin. "He won't at all. He will be most annoyed with me, and I shall kiss him and tell him what a marvellous boyfriend he is and get on my knees..."

"You are so vulgar," the curvy teenager snapped.

"... And beg," Paige added with a smile. "And don't tell me you haven't been on your knees around Andre," she added and Claire shook her head.

Paige nodded towards the auction-master as Claire whispered. "I really wonder how you two ever work."

Paige smiled at her friend. "Because he loves me and I love him."

"Three days," Claire reminded her. "That's it. Three days."

"Ahh well," Paige blushed and she held up her board again. "So what, it's..."

"Paige, that was for three fifty."

"Yeah, I know. I am listening," the girl snapped at her friend and bit her lip. "I want that place. Jack wants it too."

"What about me?"

"What about you? OK, this is our money, but you have spent some too. You made a bid for that florist yesterday for your mum." Claire screwed up her face into a frown, but Paige continued. "And you are looking at houses for your folks. My mum used to work in childcare, and there is a lovely little house around the corner. And Jeremy wants out of South London after what happened, so a new start in Southend is just fantastic. We all want our families to get a leg up from our success."

"Yeah, I know," Claire muttered as Paige looked around the room; the last bid by herself was at £360,000 and no-one was prepared to go any higher.

"And I happen to know that little Miss Claire and little Master Andre were looking at travel agents together."

Claire sighed. "OK. I just know that our accountants will be annoyed that we went over budget."

"This is nothing. Just wait until I get decorators in," Paige teased and grinned as the auction-master announced that The Bare Necessities were the new owners of the "Christian Light Childcare Centre" in the centre of Southend. "Excellent," Paige cried with a giggle and nodded towards Claire. "I guess we should go and pay them! I got so many ideas for that place. This is going to get so expensive!"

* * * * *

"What's this?" Paul shouted as he burst into the office. "Are you taking the mick or what."

"Paul Rees-Montague. I advise you to moderate your language in the presence of your managers," Lucinda goaded him as she looked up from the general ledger. "And yes, I meant to tell you about that." He held out the T-shirt in his hands, and she smiled. "We got the contract to make or assemble all the Bare Necessities merchandise. How good is that?"

Paul's face went a bit purpler, and he scowled at his little sister. "This is..."

"Saving fifty jobs and opening up another fifty. I have put an offer on a warehouse a few miles away. We are buying in the stuff we can't make here so clothing, badges, posters, etc. And the toys which can be assembled here will be ..."

"But we make machinery."

"No, we have several assembly lines which can make machinery. But in the recession, you have to be flexible. So we are being flexible. It's Greg's idea and..."

"You let that thieving little..."

"Don't finish that sentence," Lucinda shouted and stared at her brother. "Sit down." She pointed at the chair in front of her, and Paul shook his head.

"I've had enough of this, sod you Luci. I've had enough."

Lucinda licked her lips. "Your house is on the books of this factory. Walk out of this factory and it will go on the market this afternoon." Paul stopped as his hands reached for the door knob. "Now sit down," she ordered and gestured for Greg to leave the office.

Her management consultant put his pen down and sighed. "I'll get lunch. Fancy anything?"

"I'll get myself something later. But, do us a favour, talk to the sandwich shop about putting a buffet on at the end of the week here for everyone." Paul snorted and Lucinda turned to him, hovering next to her desk. "Sit down."

He gulped and pulled the chair roughly from underneath the table. "Haven't you humiliated me enough?"

"I haven't humiliated you at all," Lucinda replied icily. "You are my big brother, and I love you." Paul shook his head, and Lucinda leant back on her chair. "I know you don't like what Jack is doing, but I promise you, it is making him happy. And that Harriet girl of yours is bright and sharp, but she is going to take after you. This deal with the Bare Necessities is good for the firm. Yeah, OK, you might not like it, but financially it's pretty special. I had an opportunity, so I've taken it. Now, this expansion, reopening up the two assembly lines, plus not closing the two you were planning to shut, plus opening the warehouse, gets our name in the local paper. Here's a company doing well. Plus, we're clearing around 30% at least after costs on each product, which is then being sold on by the group at another similar mark up. It makes business sense, can you see that?"

"I don't want to encourage..."

"Ignore that," Lucinda interrupted. "It makes good business sense, can you see that?"

Paul gulped and sighed. "Yes," he snapped. "If it all works out."

"It will work out," Lucinda responded with a smile. "I'm very excited about it. As should you be, because when you get control of this business back it will be twice as profitable." Her eyes widened.

"And when will that be?"

"When I have taught you the art of humility," Lucinda said, rubbing her hands. "How much better do you know your staff as a supervisor?" Paul grunted angrily.

"I see what you are trying to do, but it'll just make me angry."

"I don't care," his sister replied. "Now I was hoping to take you to lunch." Paul bit his lip and sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I really don't want to fall out with you," Lucinda promised. "I want to quit this as a solo role and give you back the factory after twelve months, with it being in safe hands, and me as a part-time co-managery thing. You're not a bad manager, but you are cold and aloof at times, and you rule with your heart, not your head. I know I'm not perfect, but neither are you, and I will shake that arrogance out of you." She licked her lips and took a deep breath. "You might be rampantly arrogant at times, but I still love you more than anyone, because you are my brother. And there are times when you really hate me, I know. Now, being one of them maybe, but if I hadn't have done what I did, Jack would be here miserable and you would be cutting staff as you had this tunnel, narrow vision of what we should do as it's what our dad said we should do. Now, are you coming to lunch 'cause I'm starving?"

Paul grunted angrily. "It's not your place..."

"I have a vested interest in the success of this company," Lucinda replied. "And so it is my place if I think your beliefs and emotions are harming the prospects of the factory. Now, are we going to lunch?"

Paul sighed. "Yeah OK," he said wearily. "But I don't like this contract thing one bit. It's just encouraging him."

"That's why I'm running the factory for the time being," she teased and smiled. "But I bet you like the money we'll make of it, right? Just think of that. You might have a wedding to pay for anyway. That Paige is a lovely girl and Jack is obviously smitten with her," she added with a broad grin as she picked up her coat.

* * * * *

Paige clapped her hands together in the evening dusk and looked across at her sister. "Hello? Hello? Can I get everyone's attention please?" A few commuters stopped and looked across at the beer garden where the red-haired singer was sat with her sister, and a sizeable number of her sister's classmates and friends. "Hi," she shouted and coughed. "I'm Paige, member of the Bare Necessities and my sister here, Hazel, made a bet with her friends that if I got to number one in the singles' charts, she would sing naked in town." Paige turned to face her blushing sister and told her to stand up. "Isn't that true?"

Hazel nodded and the small group of commuters began to swell. "Yeah," she muttered as a handful of her friends sniggered behind her.

"And what happened to I Am Free a few days ago?"

Hazel pursed her lips and sniffed. "Reached number one," she muttered to whoops of delight from her friends behind her.

"So what do you need to do?" Paige teased with a giggle.

"Sing naked," Hazel admitted to Paige's wild gesturing.

"So Hazel Simmons," Paige asked, playing to the ever expanding group of commuters stopped outside the pub and in the small beer garden. "I believe you have to sing my song that got you to number one!"

Hazel squeaked. "Yes." Paige passed her the imaginary microphone and all eyes fell on the anxious teenager. Paige looked to see her shift from one foot to another and her classmates began to giggle and taunt her little sister.

She saw Hazel's hands shake and the nervous teenager rubbed her nose and took a few deep breaths. She was getting anxious and Paige looked at the younger girl in the eye, and smiled warmly at her, but it was not reciprocated. "Don't," Hazel cried as one of her classmates pulled at the waist of her trousers from behind her. "I can do it."

"Well do it, girlie," the heavy accent of her friend called back. Paige glanced over at the assembled commuters and saw a restlessness in both them and Hazel. Paige had suspected that her sister would have doubts at having to sing naked in front of a group of strangers and unbuttoned her own skirt, pushing her underwear and tartan clothing to the floor.

A few wolf-whistles punctuated the lecherous encouragement that Hazel was experiencing and, as Paige's bra joined her pile of clothing on the pub table, she looked at Hazel. "Come on, let's sing it together. Just us sisters. Unless anyone want to join us?" Her eyes glanced towards the assembled crowd, and then watched as her sister slowly stripped, to cheers and claps.

"Thanks," Hazel whispered. Paige simply smiled and held out her hand that was taken by Hazel, before starting the introduction to her song that was proudly sitting at the top of the singles' charts in seven countries.

Hazel's hand stopped shaking as they reached the chorus and dozens of people joined in singing, although none were prepared to lose their clothes. Paige watched her sister as she smiled broadly during the second verse and, although the two girls were far from pitch perfect, they got a round of applause at the end of their rendition.

Paige nodded towards her friend's classmates, most of whom were filming Hazel's show. "Cowards," she cried, as her sister frantically got dressed. "The lot of you. Should have joined us."

"Ahhh... we aren't like you," a teenage girl cried.

"What?" The naked Paige asked as she stared at her sister. "Brave? I know!"

"I don't want people seeing me naked," the slightly podgy girl spat back. Paige sneered and shrugged.

"You've got nothing to be scared of," Paige snapped with raised eyebrows. "You've got way bigger assets than me!" The crowd laughed at Paige's indignation, and she turned to her sister balancing on one leg as she put her trousers back on. "It was fun, right?"

Hazel pulled her jeans up to her waist and sniffed. "Yeah, a bit" she muttered and Paige reached forward to hug her.

"Then now you understand," she replied.

* * * * *

"I declare the Bare Necessities Naturism Centre open!" A naked Paige cut the ribbon as dozens of flashbulbs lit up the hall, and she looked at her naked band members either side of her. "We have spent a lot of time doing this up," she announced to the small crowd of naturists. "And we have activities and fun for everyone. Let's Party!" There was a small round of applause and Paige jumped down from the stage.

Paige was not lying; the old childcare centre that Christian Outrage had wanted to save was on large, but crucially secluded premises and Paige's eyes had lit up the moment she had seen the property a couple of days before the auction.

The vast majority of their new "Naturism Centre" was a newly opened childcare centre, offering excellent value-for-money childcare for those parents happy to have naturist experiences for their children and the band had installed Paige's mother as the manager. Jack had wanted to call it the "Kinudergarten," but Paige had said the play on words was too subtle and they instead named it "The Bare Necessities Kids Club."

Paige had installed a well equipped naturist youth centre consisting of games, a lounge, activities and a cinema room at the front of the building – and separate from the childcare part of the business – as well as the promise of plenty of garden parties and events in their expansive green space at the rear of the property.

Paige's dad hugged her as she helped serve champagne to their guests. "Looks amazing," he told her as glanced around the colourful big hall that lead out into the garden. "Proud of you. Should be a nice little home-from-home."

"Yeah," Paige agreed. "And let's hope we can get some people to try naturism, eh? We are thinking of putting a hot-tub on the patio for Spring next year."

He nodded and smiled, looking around the room. His eyes fell upon Greg and Lucinda, and he bit his lip. "What's she doing here?"

"Oh Dad, please don't cause trouble," Paige muttered. "She is Jack's aunt."

"I know who she is, but..."

"Go and speak to her, make some peace with her," Paige suggested and pressed her naked body against her father as she hugged him again. "She'll be spending a lot of time around us." Robert snorted, and Paige cocked her head and looked into his eyes. "For me? I don't want to have to separate our families, and if Jack ever asks that question and I say yes, then you two will both be at the top table."

"Hey, but..."

"It's OK," Paige interrupted. "If he was to ask tomorrow I wouldn't, but one day he might and I would probably say yes. So please, go and speak to her, just say hello."

He caught Lucinda's eye and forced a smile at her and she rubbed her eyes, looking back at him. "I'll go say hello," he muttered, and the naked man strode over to see his naked ex-wife.

"Hello stranger," a voice whispered from behind Paige. "You miss me?"

"It's only been five days," Paige replied and purred as he kissed her neck. "But yes, I've missed you."

He spun Paige around to face him and licked his lips. "Now I know why you spent four hundred and fifty thousand," Jack teased his girlfriend with a grin. "We better extend our tour by another twenty dates to pay for it." Paige giggled, and she turned around to face her partner.

"We don't need to," Paige said airily and stroked her hair back. "It came out of the advance. As well you know!"

"Yeah, I don't mind. But I was hoping that we might be able to get a place together and put a recording studio in it as well," he suggested and watched Paige smile at him. "And I know Claire will want to get a place with Andre."

"Not necessarily," Paige replied and Jack's eyes twinkled. "OK, what's that look for?"

"Nothing. Well, not until Claire tells you."

"What? Tell me what?"

Jack's resolve crumbled under Paige's withering stare, and he sighed. "Just that Andre and I were in Hatton Gardens last week." Paige's scowl turned to confusion, and he scratched the back of his head. "The jewellers."

"What?"

"He was looking at engagement rings," Jack whispered, and Paige gasped.

"Like diamonds and stuff! She didn't tell me she was engaged and..." Paige scanned the room for her bandmate and Jack had to grab her by the arm.

"She's not. And Andre didn't buy one. But he wanted to go and have a look, so we did. And I think he is going back. Really does it surprise you? They've moved into Andre's new flat, been on holiday together. Always being photographed out together."

"Are they?"

"Yes. Don't you read the gossip columns I leave lying around the house?"

"No," Paige snapped. "Well, not since they printed photographs of me in a bikini." Her eyes looked at Jack. "I promise you, that bikini was photoshopped onto me. I would not wear something like that. It's a disgrace that was. I was swimming naked, I swear."

"I know, you wouldn't wear one," Jack teased and looked around the colourful hall. "It's a good use of space," he complimented her. "I think it will be busy."

"Of course," the fearsome young lady replied. "We will be playing here as a free gig to the local youth. "It's out first stop on our new tour."

"You never told me."

"I did!" Paige answered back. "Just now." Jack laughed, and Paige kissed him on the cheek. "You know. We took the childcare group off Christian Outrage. We should have gone for the church as well."

"They aren't selling the church," Jack told her, but Paige just snorted. "And I don't think they would sell to us."

"Maybe not."

"Oh, and did you know that Sue's court date is in the New Year. I got a thing through asking me give evidence yesterday, but we'll be in Australia then. But they have the video, so I don't know why they need me. It's with the lawyers"

"Just after your good looks and charm," Paige sycophantically replied with a broad smile.

"I suppose you heard about Peter Moran?"

Paige hummed. "Sort of. Claire mentioned something about him being arrested for being a nonce. I knew there was something up with him."

Jack rubbed his nose. "Yeah, looks like he's been up to no good with a neighbour's daughter. Quite a scoop for the Herald. They beat the Police to the story."

"Amazing," Paige said with a barely-concealed smile. "Where do they press get their information from?" She looked across at Claire talking to Andre and then back at Jack. "You know, Claire's family has a new house, and her mum has a florist to run. My family have a new house and my mum is running our childcare centre, and my dad'll be looking after the youth centre. Andre has Incredible Talents and Lucinda has the order for the factory for all our merchandise. Don't you want to get Harriet anything?"

"No," Jack snapped and scratched his chin. "Not at all."

"She's still your sister."

"I know, but I don't want to. Maybe when she has kids I can be a good influence on her offspring."

"Like Aunty Lucinda was to you."

"Yeah," Jack muttered and nodded towards the naked Deputy Mayor of the town. "But at the moment, I might love her, but I don't like her." Paige tutted, and he shrugged. "And anyway, you haven't sorted out Hazel."

"Ahh," Paige muttered. "I was meaning to talk to you about that..."

* * * * *

Paige put her hands together above her head and clapped her hands. "Give it up... for the Bare Necessities!" She blushed as she ran naked onto the stage to a rapturous applause.

"Hi. Hey, this is our first time in Jamaica," she shouted. "And this is the second stop on our worldwide tour. And it's our second one that's free-eeee-eeee!" There was a cheer, and she smiled. "The first one was in Southend, and it rained!"

Paige lapped up the delight from thousands of attendees of the naked beach party and beamed. "We're gatecrashing your party," she shouted and looked towards the dozens of local artists who had performed, or were due to perform during the day. "And we are the only non-Jamaican act here, so from the bottom of our hearts, we thank you." Paige nodded towards her colleagues.

The three of them had taken the eight weeks Andre spent hurriedly arranging their "Xposed tour" by perfecting their sound and writing a handful of new songs, as well as sorting out their families' futures. Andre had told them that just turning up naked "didn't cut the mustard," so he had enlisted a couple of set designers to help the trio perfect their stage with some colourful boards.

The crowd loved their performance with the assembled audience knowing dozens of their songs. Paige lapped at the adulation and beckoned a couple of enthusiastic fans from the crowd. "You want to sing with us?" She asked, and they looked shyly at each other. "Ahh, you've been singing along all afternoon."

The audience roared with exuberance as Paige demanded that the two girls – who were no older than she was – strip naked, before she sang Cotton Tails with them. They were noticeably off-key, but they had wide grins as they finished and Paige hugged them both, before getting the crowd to give them a deafening cheer as they left the stage.

As their allotted time drew to an end, Paige stood confidently on the edge of the stage as she lapped up their excited cries and appreciative whoops. She signed hundreds of autographs as she leant over the stage while the band posed for photographs and followed their performance by joining the audience naked, to appreciate the local Jamaican music.

As tea-time approached, Paige disappeared backstage with her partner and met up with her teenage sister. Hazel passed Jack his rucksack with a grin as Paige looked around their small beach shelter, that had become their dressing room. "Where's Andre?" Paige asked their agent's new assistant and "Bare Necessities Band Manager".

"He's with mum and dad," she replied. "After the show they wanted to go back to the hotel. Mum wasn't feeling too good in the heat and Jeremy was hungry."

"And Claire?"

"Oh she's with her family. They went half-an-hour ago." Paige looked at Jack. "She wanted to go for a meal with Andre and her folks."

"I guess that's just us alone then."

"Err... what about me?" Hazel asked.

"Oh come on then," Paige moaned. "I want to get something to eat. I'm starving."

Hazel smirked. "It's OK. I'm winding you up. I've already got a dinner date." Paige's eyes widened. "He played before you. Nice guy, asked if I could get him a record deal."

"Hazel, we are off to America tomorrow to start the tour properly. And as Band Manager..."

"Yeah, I know. It's only a date." She sighed and brushed her red hair back. "If you weren't with posh-nuts here, you'd be on the lookout too. And, I'm a career agent now as well, it feels good. I'm looking for new talent. And I think he's supremely talented. In every way."

"Oh Hazel," Paige snorted derisively. "Did you have to tell me that?"

"What?" Hazel muttered. "You told me to lighten up, enjoy myself and not care what people think of me. So I am going for a date after I have overseen the packing up of the set and it going off towards the States. Which is my job and then it's funtime."

"Just be careful," Jack warned her and she smiled. "Not everywhere is as safe as home."

"She's from Croydon, I'm sure she'll be fine," Paige added, and shook her head as her sister skulked from her with a grin and a wave. Paige turned to Jack. "So I guess that really is just us two then. And I think you are supremely talented too! Do I get a date?"

"Yes," Jack replied. "The moment you are dressed, we can go to a restaurant." Paige looked down at her bare body and sighed.

"I almost forgot," she gasped and looked around the small shelter for her clothes. "You forget don't you."

"Well you do," Jack teased, and she smiled. "But I love you for it." Paige beamed, and the naked girl held out her hands and hugged Jack tightly.

"Yeah, and I love you too," the teenage singer cried. "Even though you're a posh bastard!"
  27. # Note from Author

Hello there again,

Thanks for reading my book – or at least getting to the end of it. I hope you enjoyed it. Whatever your comments are, then I would like to hear them, good or bad. Please take the time to drop me a line at my website, or post a review to wherever you downloaded my work. It is the only way I can hope to improve as an author. Thank you.

My website: <http://jdhardingbooks.wordpress.com/>

I am a new member of British Naturism and wrote about my first naturist experience in a free book called "Going Bare!" where I took my family to a naturist resort in France for the week.

I appreciate this novel requires suspension of disbelief, but there is an undercurrent of truth to the harassment Paige, Jack and Claire suffer. There are many examples of naturists being hauled through the justice system for being naked, even though nudity was decriminalised ten years ago. Instead, the Public Order Act, designed to stop riots and threatening behaviour, is being used. This is unfair and has to stop.

I intend to do the World Naked Bike Ride in Manchester in June 2013; it'll be great to see as many people there as possible! Only then can attitudes change.

I have a few ideas for Bare Necessities 2, and if there is enough interest around this book I shall write it. Until then, here's to a clothing-optional world.

Kind regards,

John

