Dearest Kit

Chapter Twenty Six

   “It’s great here,” I smiled, as James sat down across from me, unwrapping the layers of clothes; the scarf and gloves and coat. 

   “I know, hardly anyone comes here too!” He whispered, as if it were a secret. “It’s nice at the end of my session, to come and have a coffee, try to wake up so I don’t fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon.” 

   “I wanted to talk to you about music,” I mentioned, biting my lip and moving out of the way as the waitress came and put our drinks down. 

   “Oh yeah?” James raised his eyebrows in surprise, as I lent forward and cupped my fingers around the large mug of steaming coffee. I took a sip, before picking up a teaspoon and skimming froth off the surface. 

   “I just wanted some advice, you know?” I explained, “About what would be best to do, where to gig, how we should do things and get the biggest exposure?” 

   “Well, talk to me about your band, the genre, the members,” he asked, leaning back in his seat and sipping at his small, black coffee. “I’m curious,” he grinned, shrugging and making me giggle. 

   “Well, we’re called The Lost Boys,” I started, crossing one leg over the other, “it’s me on vocals and guitar, and one of my best friends on lead guitar. We went to junior school together, he’s kind of like my brother, and he’s already been in a band so he knows exactly what to do, to begin with anyway.” I paused and took another sip of my coffee, “The bassist is a little more complicated, we used to date,” I stopped then and looked up at him worriedly, “please don’t tell anyone that.” 

   “I won’t,” he agreed, raising up his hands to show me his palms. 

   “He’s the most egotistical person I know,” I sighed, “and bloody minded, and a pain to be around, but he’s a fucking amazing bass player. And, in any case, the person I wanted to play bass is already in a band,” I frowned. “Then there’s Seb, who’s lovely and intelligent, and probably the most sensible of all three of us. I haven’t known him as long, but we’ve grown close extremely quickly.” 

   “It’s good to have close relationships with the other members; that’s why bands that have been put together by labels etcetera don’t often end up doing as well compared to ones where the members have known each other since they were kids.” James opened the small packet containing a piece of biscotti, resting on the saucer of his coffee. He popped the biscuit into his mouth and crunched loudly. “Have you done any recordings? Are you playing your own stuff?” 

   “Yeah, I write, and Jimmy writes, and we’ve been writing together too. It’s kind of indie pop, or rock, really catchy guitar riffs and melodies,” I spoke, the steam from the hot drink steaming up the reading glasses I’d slipped on, in order to read my texts when James was ordering our drinks. I slipped them off and wiped the condensation off on the hem of my thick, wooly jumper. 

   “Do you have a website? Somewhere where I can listen to your stuff?” 

   “We haven’t started recording properly yet, I think Jim has booked sessions at a studio for next week. We have a twitter page and a facebook page, and soon we’ll have a band camp,” I explained. “We have a youtube channel though?” I suggested, “there’s only a few tracks on there, but it will give you an idea.” 

   “Well, I’ll definitely have a listen, and I’ll tweet your twitter page and stuff,” he beamed. “But, I mean, in terms of gigging, there are places in London I’m sure would have you, open mic nights, for new musicians? I can text you the name of a few I’ve been to; most of them are in Notting Hill I think.” 

   “Okay, yeah, that would be great,” I nodded, grinning. 

   “I think you’re gonna’ do well,” James shrugged, twitching his lips. “I wouldn’t be worried, or stressed over trying to make it, I think one day, you’ll wake up, and it will just,” he paused and lent forward in his chair, making dramatic hand gestures, “be.” 

   “That would be nice,” I smiled dreamily, looking out onto the street, as it began to rain. 

   “Hey, are you going to be in London tonight?” He looked as though he had been suddenly struck with an idea. 

   “Umm, I can be,” I said curiously. 

   “It’s just, there’s this album launch party,” James started, brushing his quiff back off his face, “for Johnny Flynn’s new album, it’s at the Dorchester Hotel, starts tonight at eight thirty. It would be great for you to network, I could get you and the rest of the band on the list?” 

   “Oh my God!” I squealed, “Can you really do that?” 

   “Yeah!” James laughed, “And, I mean, if your friends can’t come, just come on your own, I’ll meet you there.” 

   “Okay, that would be great,” I beamed. “You would not believe how much of a Johnny Flynn fan I am,” I confessed sheepishly, beginning to blush. 

   “Well, today’s your lucky day!” He exclaimed, and I just nodded, giggling. “I have to go get a shower before meeting a friend for lunch,” he finished off his coffee and stood up. I did the same, slipping on my coat and following him out of the coffee shop, onto the damp street. “Call me if you can’t come,” he gave me a hug and I squeezed tight. “You’re going to do just fine, Lana O’Rourke,” he chuckled, before walking off into the distance. 

   As soon as I’d made my way down to the tube station, fighting my way past the crowds of people trying desperately to get to their desired destinations, and found a seat in the train, I took my phone out of the pocket of my jeans and dialed Jimmy’s number, holding the handset to my ear. 

   “Yello?” He answered, elongating the vowel sounds, his voice husky. 

   “I have news,” I said eagerly, covering my mouth so the strangers in the carriage didn’t see me grinning like someone psychotic. “Come to London.”   

   “Come to London?” He replied, “When?”  

   “Now, this afternoon, we’ve been invited to a private album launch,” I had to try to contain just how excited I really was. 

   “Are you kidding me?” Jim laughed, “Yes, I’ll be there!” 

   “Can you call Patrick and Seb?” I asked, “Get the train, text me what time it’s coming into Victoria, and I’ll come meet you.” 

   “Okay, this is, well, this is surprising,” he sounded a little shocked. 

   “Bring suits, we can change at Kit’s apartment,” I explained. 

   “Alright, alright, I’ll see you later then,” he laughed. 

   “Bye!” I laughed, hanging up, before ringing Kit and asking if we could use his apartment for the night; of course he said yes.