Gaining Traction. Chapter 6 of 9

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Part 6

Sunday, we had a day at the beach at Lyme Regis, with the parents. It was the first chance that Dad had to be where we could talk quietly. He spoke to Angelica as we walked along the foreshore, eating ice-creams. Whatever he told her, it must have been good, as she gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Then, he walked between us while Mum steered Angelica away.

“Now, kids, this last couple of weeks has been a big upheaval for the family. I had expected to kit out two boys for the next term, not two girls. Your sister told me that she could spare some of her old things and I told her that I would give her some cash for them so that she could buy more things suitable for a girl in fifth form. The two of you will be fourteen in a few weeks, and I’m afraid that your presents are likely to be school kit. However, a lot depends on what the doctor tells us, next week. Is there any one thing that you would like that we would never have thought of.”

“I’d like a sewing machine,” said Janet. “One I can set up in the hut so that I can learn to sew. Mum has promised to teach me. I’d like to be able to make any new stage outfits that we might need.”

“I’ll talk to your mother about that. If she wants a new one, will you take her old one?”

Jan nodded and smiled so Dad turned to me.

“I’m going to take some guitar lessons, to see if I’m any good at it. If I am, I would like a guitar of my own. I don’t mind waiting until after my birthday.”

“All right, I’m glad that you both are so level-headed. I told your sister that we will get her a small car when she turns sixteen, so she can get used to driving it around the property. She can’t get a full licence until she is seventeen, but, by then she should be able to look after it and will breeze through the test. By then, we’ll all know how your future in music will pan out. There has to be a future for you after what you showed us, I can’t tell you how proud you made me. I could hardly believe that my children were there, on stage, entertaining a huge crowd.”

It was a lovely, family day. We had fish and chips, sitting on a seat and looking at the waves. There’s not a lot of things better for settling you down and allowing you to just think. That made me wonder about any future shows.

“Angelica, if we are asked to go on stage at the steam rally next year, do you think we can do it with our own songs, plus one or two covers. We could get a few guys to be the band; there are a few in school who play. I’m sure they would be happy to help out.”

“We have to get our own songs, first. They don’t fall out of the sky.”

“I know, but we have a year to get something we can do. We may get something from Cleo’s friends, or there may be people who saw us, on stage, and could be busy writing stuff that they’ll post to us. Since that weekend, I’ve been thinking about lyrics myself, and have a few ideas running around in my head. If I’m any good at the guitar, I may be able to sort out a rudimentary tune. I do have tunes in my mind, I just have to learn how to let them out.”

The next week had us settling into a rhythm. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we went to see Miss Harris. We were joined by Lucy and Janine, and we all had lessons in leaping and a little introduction to tumbling. She had a hook, in the ceiling, where she attached rubber cords which we had hooked to a belt. This allowed us to start trying to do summersaults without falling flat on our faces. It took a while, but by the time we went to school, we could all do a forward one, and we had all had limited success with a backwards one. We were told that only the most accomplished gymnasts can do those successfully, with grace.

Before school started, I went to guitar lessons on Tuesday and Thursday. Mum took me in and came back for me three hours later. In the first lesson, Martin, my teacher, asked me what sort of music I wanted to play. I told him that I wanted to play rock and pop music, so that I can write songs, and maybe play in a band. He thought that I was a little young to have such lofty ambitions, so I asked him if he had a copy of the latest Hit Music magazine. When I pointed me out in the picture of us on stage, he was amazed.

“Some friends of my daughter had gone over to the steam rally on the Friday. They said that some local girls had put on a great show as a cover group with a backing tape. What’s this, you with Cleopatra and a band behind you?”

I had to give him the shortened version of the weekend, telling him that I may have a CD to play for him, sometime. We then got into the first lesson, with him seeing how flexible my fingers were, then starting with simple chords. With one chord, he got me to use the plectrum on certain strings, and I was amazed to hear the tune of a well-known song. He explained that this was how you learned to keep what you want to play in the right key. That ‘key’ thing was a bit of a worry, and he told me that it was something that came naturally, and not to force it.

Towards the end of the lesson, he showed me three common chords, calling them a ‘three chord trick’ that a lot of songwriters use. When Mum came to pick me up, I had the guitar in its case, on loan until I got my own. That was something he told me that I should do as soon as I could. I started sitting in my room, in the evenings, practicing playing the chords, then strumming them, and moving from one to another, sometimes keeping my fingers in one place and playing individual notes.

One of the things that had an effect on my future was when I found out that Miss Harris played piano, and sometimes did so for dance lessons. I had seen it, in the corner, but it hadn’t sunk in until I began noticing things. Sandra had been playing from an early age. This led me to cycling over in the mornings of our dance lessons, helping with the bees, and then sitting next to her as we played around with tunes. She, of course, had to follow what I could play, but we had fun, which usually ended with a kiss, unless her mother was with us.

At the end of the week, we had our visit to the doctor, who took enough blood to feed a vampire for a month. He got us to strip off and examined us, one by one, putting a Texta spot on Jan so that we couldn’t pretend we were the other. At the end of that, after we had redressed, he got Mum into his room and told us his findings, so far. It seemed that I had all my tackle, if a bit small, while Jan still had hers caught up inside. He knew the family history, and he wasn’t alarmed at this, saying that if hers didn’t descend in a year, there would be the option of having a minor operation, to bring them down or remove them completely. He said that she was much further advanced in her feminine growth, so the latter would be likely, along with hormones. That, he told us, was up to the bloodwork to decide.

When we got home from that visit, Dad joined us for lunch, bringing a sheet of paper from the office fax machine. It was the Press Release, which he read out to us.

“This came in today. It’s nice that they thought of you. I wondered if they would pass the whole show off as a flash in the pan, but this is what they say.”

“There has been much speculation about the Cleopatra show at the Great Dorset Steam Rally. The band had been booked for some weeks, but two of the Higgins sisters became too ill to perform. The band was helped out by the addition of the three Gaynor sisters, Angel, Jan, and Luce, who had performed a show of their own on the Thursday evening, as a cover band using a backing tape. Their rendition of a couple of Cleopatra numbers was so good, they came to London to be tested out to see if they could fill out our normal sound. The result was what you saw on the Saturday night, and we thank them for their help in our hour of need. The resulting show was so good, the four new songs destined for our next album, and release for the media, will be recordings that happened during rehearsal. The next CD will have the Gaynor Sisters credited for their input, and we have to stress that this is a single event, which in no way changes the usual Cleopatra line-up. We hope that these songs will be well received by our fans and the critics.”

“That’s that, then,” sighed Mum. “A one-off event.”

“Not so quick to write it off, Mum,” I said. “The release says that the four songs will be sent to the media. To me, that means that they are destined for airplay. If the radio stations pick them up, and they go up the charts, I’m pretty certain that the phone is going to start ringing. It will then be driven by the fans. We may find ourselves on stage for a short time at different shows. Who knows, they may allow us to do the four songs in our own show, just like we did on the Sunday evening.”

Just before we went back to school, Jan and I had a session with Mum and Angelica, trying on the hand-me-down outfits. There were enough correct green-grey skirts and slacks, and white blouses for two sets each, but only one blazer. As all we had were boys ones, that prompted a visit to the shops to get one. I was happy with the old one and I knew that Jan would be happy trying things on. Also, around that time, we had two deliveries.

The first was a package from Cleo that contained a box of ten CD’s. Five had the full show on, as we did it on the Saturday. It was titled ‘Cleopatra at the Steam Rally’, with the stamp ‘Limited Edition’, and a picture of us all, taken from the photo session. We were credited as being part of the line-up. There was also a card, signed by all four sisters, wishing us well. The other five CDs were similar on the cover, but only contained the four songs. It had ‘For Demo Use Only’ stamped on it. The back had a list of all the singers and band by name, with the sound technicians, including Archie. This, we supposed, was what had been sent to the media. It was this one that changed our future.

The second delivery was several boxes, addressed to Mum. We all gathered in the kitchen as she opened one to reveal bundles of tee shirts. They all had a picture of the three of us, taken by Dad with our original silver dresses, shown from the waist up. On the dresses were our signatures that we had used on the magazine. Over the top was ‘Gaining’ and underneath was ‘Traction’. The back had a picture of all of us on the Saturday night with the sentence ‘Gaining Traction with Cleopatra’ in a circle around it. Mum told us that it was hard for her to keep it secret but wanted us to have something to hand out to friends, thus getting a circle of them to help us at school. The boxes had small, medium, and large sizes.

On The Thursday, at my guitar lesson, I wore my ‘Traction’ tee shirt and showed Martin the four-song demo CD. He put it on a player and called in the others that were taking lessons to listen to. I felt proud, at first, but could see a couple who showed something in their eyes that I didn’t like. Jealousy, maybe. On the weekend before we went to school, we heard one of the songs being played on the radio. It sent shivers up and down my spine. On Sunday, the phone rang. It was the local radio station, Vale FM, wanting to see us, at their studio, on the Wednesday evening for an interview. We agreed, even though it was a bit of a drive to get there in Shaftsbury.

First thing, however, was to get through our first week at school. We had seen the headmaster, who wasn’t all that happy to have two transgenders in one class, and he told us that he couldn’t guarantee our safety. What he didn’t know about was the group of girls, starting with those we had gone shopping with at Exeter, that were happy to be considered friends, as well as fans. They ranged from the third to fifth years. They all had friends who would, so we were told, be happy to be considered friends as well.

Miss Harris had spoken to some of the teachers to treat us as girls, because she told them, that’s what we were. Archie had a group of boys that we knew of, but we hadn’t met as girls, who he had played his copy of the demo CD to. They were on board, so he told us, as long as we welcomed the boys into our circle. I thought that it was a sneaky way for them to be with a bunch of girls, but, if it worked for them, it worked for us.

Our first day back was a little frightening, but we were surrounded by helpers from the moment we left the car. Sandra was now considered normal by the others, and not frozen out. It helped that both of us were passable enough to be accepted. We were both welcomed in the female toilets, as long as we didn’t flash our boy bits. A couple of teachers were not happy, but settled down when they saw that we were not targets for snide remarks and jokes.

Our first gym session had us changing with the other girls, if in the corner, and we did enough to fit in when we had a game of softball. In fact, I wondered what I had been bothered about. We did, however, keep a strict routine of not being anywhere remote or secluded, and Mum was there as we came out to take us home, instead of being on the bus. She had enough room for Sandra, but Brenda opted to go on the bus with her friends. On two days a week, we would be doing after school training in the gym, and Miss Harris would be taking us home.

That now meant that we stopped our sessions in the dance room, in favour of more strenuous ones in the Gym. I now had my guitar lessons on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, with Dad taking me over and coming back for me. One day, close to our birthday, he came back early and listened to me as I played a simple tune. He asked Martin if I was ready for my own guitar and Martin showed him some pictures of what was available, with an idea of where to go for one. I was given a little input and followed Martin’s advice to get an acoustic guitar with an internal pick-up and jacking to play through an amplifier.

The evening at the radio station was a whole new experience. They were a little put out when we turned up with our parents, but soon realised that we were still underage. The discussion went down the now-usual track of how we got to be part of the Cleopatra line-up and what we thought of it. They played two of the tracks from the demo CD, and before we left, they were getting callers who wanted to talk to us. We did do about five minutes answering questions, usually about when we were next on stage. As we left, Dad was given a message slip by the producer, who told him it was from a man who told him that he managed groups and would like to help us, just leaving his phone number.

When we arrived home from school on Friday, Mum said that there was a letter addressed to Angelica. When she opened it, she took out a cheque from the Steam Rally organisers. It was for nearly two thousand pounds and the payee section was left blank. Dad reminded us that it was supposed to be given to a worthy charity of our choice. After some discussion, we decided that it should be given to the Crowshute Centre, a Chard community centre where Mum went to play bingo and where we would go for dances. They did a lot of good with the older folk, but still had time for us ’youngsters’.

When our birthday came around, Mum got a new sewing machine, with a new cabinet, and Jan got her old one and cabinet. I now had my own guitar, with case, spare strings, a small amp and a tuning unit that plugged into the jack. After tea, we all helped carrying the sewing machine and cabinet over to the hut, and, once we were all there, I was asked to play a few things I had learned. I plugged in and played the whole repertoire in less than ten minutes. What I could do then was to strum the chords I was now good with, and sung a song from years ago, much to the delight of my family.

As the term moved towards Christmas, Jan started making her own clothes from material Mum had in store. I got better with the guitar, and we all got better with our gymnastics. Miss Harris was now talking about getting us a spot in the county competition, purely as a demonstration, seeing that they didn’t have any sections for group floorwork, only individual on apparatus.

One weekend, I had been helping with the bees and then we were messing about with the piano and guitar. I saw us in the big mirrors, and it caused something to click in my brain. Over the next week, in my spare time, I wrote my first song. I called it ‘Mirror’. It went like this….

“You see me every morning. You see me every night.
You see me when I look good. And when I look a sight.
As I look into my eyes. I can see my soul.
When my heart just wants to cry. You reflect my all.

Mirror, Oh mirror. You never lie, you just reflect the truth.
Mirror, Oh mirror. Without you I’d die. For you provide the proof.

With every day I see the changing, that time has wrought on me.
With every day I see the ageing, as I reach my puberty.
I paint my face, I hide the signs, of adolescent life.
I smile as I think I could. Be a woman, and a wife.

Mirror, Oh mirror. You never lie, you just reflect the truth.
Mirror, Oh mirror. Without you I’d die. For you provide the proof.

You will be there, a friendly face. To make me smile each day.
As long as you are there for me. No harm can come my way.
As life goes on. And reflections change. Your support will never falter.
Until that day I see myself, getting ready for the altar.

Mirror, Oh mirror. You never lie, you just reflect the truth.
Mirror, Oh mirror. Without you I’d die. For you provide the proof.

By now, I had enough skill to work out a tune. I plugged the cassette recorder into the output socket of the amplifier, and recorded myself singing, with the guitar. When I played it, the first time, I grimaced and recorded a second attempt over it that sounded much better. That evening, after tea, I played it to my family, expecting derision. I wasn’t ready for an outpouring of hugs and kisses when it finished. Angelica wanted the words, so I went and got them for her. We then played the tape again, with her singing and Jan and I adding backing on the chorus. All it really needed was some instrumental breaks and it would be long enough to do on stage.

When we settled down, Dad told us that he had rung the chap who had left the message at the radio station. It turned out that he was a cousin of one of our customers that we did deliveries for. That allowed Dad to double-check the man, which took a little while. He told us that he had been waiting for a moment like this, where we showed the first steps at being serious performers. He rang the guy that evening and made an appointment to see him the following Saturday, at his home in Shaftsbury. Angelica wouldn’t wait, she dragged the two of us into the hut, and we set up the recorder to tape her singing the song, with the two of us doing back-up and me on guitar. It took a while, but by the time we all went to bed, we had something we could play to this man that showed what we could do.

As I tried to sleep after the excitement, I suddenly thought of a dance concept that would go with it. Jan and I could dance mirror image steps either side of Angelica. As I drifted off, I pictured a scene in the gym, with the tune playing and Jan and I doing a gymnastic routine as a mirror image. It made me smile and I had a wonderful dream about dancing with Sandra.

I mentioned the routine to Jan the next day, and she was very supportive. She started talking about flowing skirts that would sway in opposite directions and that it would look good if we used streamers. We put the concept to Miss Harris one afternoon, in our late gym session, and she thought that it would be a wonderful demonstration piece, She immediately saw that us two blondes could be opposite, with Janine and Lucy, two brunettes, at ninety degrees to us. Angelica, she said, could stay in a central spot, doing the streamer moves, or – and her face lit up as she thought of it – actually singing the song to a backing track.

All we needed, now was the easy bits. We just needed to record it, finding a band in the process, and having it on the airwaves so that it made an impact when we did it live. A lot would depend on our discussion, on Saturday. Who knows what the guy would offer, or what demands he would have. Dad said that the reports were that he was an upright guy and had several other bands that he managed in the Bournemouth area.

I started trying to think about another song. I had discovered that song writing is like any form of writing, if you have a concept the words may flow, but, without the concept, the page remains blank.

Marianne Gregory © 2024

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Comments

It’s always about……..

D. Eden's picture

Inspiration and perspiration.

Interesting difference between the two twins at the doctor.

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

The page remains blank.

Patricia Marie Allen's picture

like any form of writing, if you have a concept the words may flow, but, without the concept, the page remains blank.

Been there, done that and have the plain white tee shirt.

Hugs
Patricia

Happiness is being all dressed up and HAVING some place to go.
Semper in femineo gerunt

Where can I get a recording of Mirror?

Lucy Perkins's picture

For a fourteen year old, that is a pretty mature song. Just the right level of introspection and hope, a perfect song for a soon to be star to write.
I am loving this journey.
Lucy xx

"Lately it occurs to me..
what a long strange trip its been."

The front at Lyme Regis is called the Cob

Angharad's picture

It was made famous by Meryl Streep playing the 'French Lieutenant's Woman', a film of John Fowles novel. He was the curator of Lyme Museum for several years.

Angharad