Now, it was sink or swim time for me. My choice!

We were so hyped up over the success of the gig earlier in the evening that we celebrated big time when we got back to Simon’s and lost all track of time. When finally, fatigue got the better of me and Clare and we decided to go to bed it was 3.30am. We woke early at around 8.30 because there were children in the house and they were excited about beginning a new day.
I realised then that I had made a mistake about going to bed so late. I was exhausted and we had another gig to do, we are not used to having one gig after another these days, normally it’s a single gig on a single weekend so we over did it last night considering what we still had to do.

Don left early to go back to London, and after a morning of chatting and drinking coffee, Clare and I packed the car and headed for London. Chris, our sound engineer and Paul Howard made their way to London on the train and Simon drove up later.

Clare and I intended to get to my sisters house in Hackney and then have a nap for awhile but that never happened. We made the mistake of going through Central London on a Saturday when the roads were at their busiest (not a wise move, shows you we were not thinking straight) and then we got lost in the City. I think we passed every tourist attraction in Central London that day and by the time we found the right roads to get us to Hackney there was no time for a nap. We pulled the equipment out of the car, called a cab, loaded the equipment into the taxi and then made off for the Spitz.
I had spent the entire afternoon sitting in a car and had no chance to have a snooze.

I was now beginning to worry that the band would all be too tired to pull this gig off and then I would blame myself for not getting some decent sleep the night before.

As we approached the venue I started ringing the band to see if they had arrived yet. Don was five minutes away, I checked Simon, he had met up with Paul and Chris and they too were in a taxi and were also only five minutes away. Ok, I didn’t find out if the main band ‘The Men They Couldn’t Hang’ had finished their sound check and the PA guy was waiting for us to turn up but I did find out that we were all close to arriving.

There was a wonderful moment were everything seemed to come together like magic. A dream moment that had never happened to me in all the years I have been playing music.

The dream moment was when I finally got my equipment in to the venue and stopped to relax for a moment. All of a sudden Don arrived, Simon Chris and Paul walked in behind him and ‘The Men They Couldn’t Hang’ who were sound checking at the time said ‘yeah that sounds fine, we’re done’. Never had I played a gig where everyone turned up at the same time and just at the moment we were to start our sound check, immaculate timing meaning no hanging around patiently waiting of the headlining band to finish, no bored band members wandering off and then can’t be found when the time comes to set up on stage.

Little did we know that this moment was as fragile as a soap bubble on a breeze. It hung for a moment as we savoured it and then just popped!

Then it turned into a nightmare.

1963

None of this was my fault, it was only because of Billy, I was in Bush Fair at all, it was all because of Billy I did his stupid dare and jumped into that cab with his matches and his fireworks.

I was always meant to take the rap, Billy done his worse work through the actions of others, I was being manipulated.

This was really all to do with Billy.

It wasn’t much more of a leap of imagination to come to the confession that was needed to end this.

I jerked up my head.

“I was there” I said, “but it wasn’t me, it was Billy who set light to the lorry”.

Another lie…

The strings loosened and my head fell limply back into my lap.

I had cracked, and from that point on I jabbered out a tale woe that was almost true but subtly moved the blame on to others.

Then, the inevitable!

The main policeman now standing over me asks “Now, tell me exactly where does this boy live?

I didn’t need to move my lips, my mum replied for me.

“He actually only lives only a stones throw away, in the square across the road in Spinning Wheel Mead, last house in the corner on the right.”.

As they left my home I pulled the net curtain back in the living room to watch their backs disappear into the sunset. They paused to let a 804 double decker bus pass by and then continued across the road. It reminded me of a thousand cowboy films where a Sheriff and his Deputy pause to let a stage coach by and then continue to cross the dusty main track through the town. They would be heading for the saloon and a showdown with some unhinged killer.
My policemen were not seeking out an adult protagonist, they were going for a mere boy.

Billy the Kid.

Before I could be grounded I ran into the hall, opened the front door, ran down the path, turned right and carried on running.

Now I was in real trouble and I was running for the ‘Hills’.