Page 32 of The Last Love Song
‘Superb as always, my lovely.’ She kissed him on both cheeks.
‘Thanks. Who’s this?’
A pair of intelligent eyes gazed at Sorcha with interest from behind the glasses.
‘Sorcha, Con’s girlfriend.’
‘Ah, our possible bassist, discovered languishing in Carnaby Street by Derek.’ Todd smiled. ‘Good to meet you, Sorcha. I really hope Con works out. The band can’t move forward until we have a fourth member who’s as committed as the rest of us. I’ll catch you later, sweetheart. I want to chat to Con and let him have a tinker with our bass guitar. Bye, Sorcha, great to meet you.’ Todd blew a kiss to Lulu and left.
‘That man just oozes sex, doesn’t he?’ murmured Lulu.
Fifteen minutes later, Todd was back behind the microphone.
‘Right, let me introduce you to Con Daly, recently arrived from the Emerald Isle, though we’ll try not to hold that against him,’ Todd chuckled, ‘and fresh from fronting his own successful band over there. As always, I want you to help us decide if Con is our new man. Con Daly, ladies and gents!’
Con climbed onto the stage, gave an embarrassed wave, then put the bass guitar strap over his neck.
‘Good luck, Sonia,’ Lulu cooed. ‘This crowd can be tough.’
‘Thanks,’ Sorcha replied through gritted teeth. This was hideous. Con, who could knock the lot of them into acocked hat with his talent, was being treated like some dumb apprentice.
‘We’re gonna play “Can’t Buy Me Love”! We all know that one.’ Todd smiled, and counted the band in.
‘Come on, Con, show them what you can do,’ muttered Sorcha under her breath.
The audience whooped and cheered. Todd led them straight into another Beatles hit.
‘Now, not only can this man play bass, he tells me he can also sing. I give you Con Daly!’
Con came forward and stood in front of the microphone.
‘Thanks,’ he said, and began to play the haunting, familiar guitar riff that signalled the start of ‘House of the Rising Sun’.
Sorcha watched as Lulu suddenly sat up straight and stared at Con. The song was a perfect fit for her man. A wave of pride washed over her.
As the band brought The Animals’ hit to a close, applause rained around the pub. Con bowed and took his place behind Todd.
‘So what do we think?’
‘Yes! Yes!’ came the reply from the audience.
‘Well, Con, looks like you’re in. Welcome to Todd Bradley and the Blackspots.’
‘With a bit of training your guy could really sing.’ Lulu was looking at Sorcha with new respect.
‘I think he’s after doing okay without the training.’
Lulu furrowed her brow. ‘Don’t get defensive. He’s good. Anyway, he’ll only be backing. Todd’s the singer in the group.’
‘Sure,’ replied Sorcha morosely.
An hour later, after declining an offer to join the rest of the band at a club in Soho due to lack of funds, Sorcha and Con went strolling through Regent’s Park on their way home to Swiss Cottage.
Con was on a high.
‘We’ll be rehearsing three afternoons a week. They’ve got over a dozen gigs in pubs lined up for the next month. Todd’s dead set on going to the top. Your man has a really professional attitude, Derek’s shit-hot on rhythm guitar and Ian, the drummer, is exceptional. I really think it could happen for them. Well, us!’
Sorcha nodded silently.
