Dream On Read Free Page B

outfit playing at the larger caravan sites along the east coast, and
was fed up with doing commercial crap, he'd said -  he was looking for a worthy
band to whom he could offer his percussion skills.
    A professional drummer had appeared. Dave had been
given a glimpse of his own Inner Viking.
    The signs were all there.
    Thor had arrived!
     

***
    The back room of Shane's Uncle Vic's pub, The Bandstand,
where live bands featured twice a week, became the venue for band practice.
    The acoustics weren't all that, Shane said, but, as
he pointed out, it was free.
    "I reckon we've got to keep it pretty mainstream,"
said Ritchie, "if we're going to get a following."
    "What, mainstream like The X Factor?" Shane said,
and laughed. "Bagsy I be mentored by Dannii Minogue, right?"
    "No, not like The X Factor," said Dave. Why
had such a great idea become an uphill struggle? At least Ritchie was taking
it seriously, albeit in a rather uninspired fashion, but Shane seemed to be
treating the whole thing as a bit of a joke, more interested in getting his leg
over a load of rock chicks than achieving critical acclaim. This Chris Boswell
chap - Boz - was likely to have a more professional approach, though the whole
Boz business was a worry in itself. Dave wanted him in the band, because he
was an accomplished drummer and had a few good contacts, but there was always
the worry that he might go off and find himself a proper drumming job. Boz
hadn't actually committed himself to Thor, not properly.
    "Aye, I'll give it a go, I haven't got much on
right now," he'd said, when the proposal was put to him. "I could do with
playing a bit of decent rock music instead of all that holiday camp shite I'm
stuck with at the moment."
    "So you're in, then?" Dave had said, trying to sound
casual. It was important that Boz saw him as an equal, not some amateur who
was desperate to have him on board.
    "Aye, I'll give it a go, I haven't got much on
right now," Boz had said again, which didn't really tell Dave anything.
    But at least he'd agreed; he'd just walked through
the door, drumsticks in hand.
    "We'll need a MySpace page," Ritchie was saying. "That's
what our Pete told me. All unsigned bands have them these days."
    "Oh yeah, my sis, she's always on MySpace," Shane said,
grinning. "She posts them sparkly pictures of angels all over her mates' pages
and gives it that 'lol' stuff all the time." He laughed.
    "No, I mean MySpace Music," Ritchie said. "They've got a
special section for bands and singers and that. You can put your actual
music on it. You've got to have an online presence these days, our Pete
says."
    "Why aye, man, he'll be telling us we've got to
tweet, next!" said Boz, grinning and shaking his floppy dark hair out of his
eyes, then throwing a drumstick up into the air and catching it.
    "Shall we just wait until we've actually practised the
songs?" Dave said.
    "Might be an idea!" Shane laughed again. "I like that one
about the young Viking guy who's got to leave his Mrs and kid and doesn't want
to, that's good, that one."
    "'Cross the Sea'," Dave said. He was particularly
fond of his second powerful rock ballad; he'd felt quite emotional when he was
writing the lyrics. They'd made him think about the night Janice had chucked
him out, and the look on Harley's face when he'd packed his bag. Not a good
day at all.
    "As long as we can do a few covers too," Shane
said. "
'Livin' on a Prayer'
always goes down well with the ladies!" He struck
a pose. "I quite fancy meself giving it a bit of the old Jon Bon!"
    Dave closed his eyes in despair. Why didn't Shane
understand? He didn't want this band to be a tenth rate Bon Jovi, or a second anything. They would be the first Thor, like nothing else that had gone before.
     

***
    A few days later, Janice Brown watched Dave walking
down the road, away from the house he'd once shared with her and Harley. As
always, she felt tears prick at her eyelids, though she was never quite sure
why. She was always one