Whispers of a Lesser God Read online

  She’s catching the last train from Ghost Town

  With a free ticket that she didn’t buy.

  Love dropped her off at the station.

  First-class seating, for her heart to ride.

  Ghost Town once was a boom town.

  Bright and cheerful, with joy and pride.

  She’s waiting, cold, on the platform

  With icy winds and clouds in her sky.

  Here comes the last train from Ghost Town,

  Slowly rolling like it has come home to die.

  Doors fly open, leave people abandoned.

  She climbs on board, breaks down and cries…

  Duncan just stood like a statue, with tears welling up in his eyes, then trickling down his cheeks. He quickly composed himself and tried to articulate his thoughts as perfectly as he could.

  “Well, ladies, I think we all agree on what the album will be called.”

  Last Train from Ghost Town had been born. And it had been a painless and magnificent birth.

  They piled off the train at Liverpool Street, still laughing and joking about the train living up to its name. Duncan had planned everything like a military operation, because he did not want Dorothy and Caroline to have to think about or be stressed out by anything. He was a man with a mission and he was going to make every move, every plan as perfect as he could to accommodate them. The string of phone calls that he had made were to alert the band and Roger that Daphne Devine was arriving and it was all systems go. He had booked both women into a hotel on his credit card. But Dorothy had insisted that she paid for herself and the girl. She was not going to let him have everything his own way, and he reluctantly agreed that she would foot the bill.

  Dorothy did not mind sharing a room with Caroline at all. Not just to save money, but without really understanding why, she was growing attached to her. They had bonded spiritually, emotionally and musically. The girl knew and sensed this, and she and gratefully knew the reasons how and why. When they had settled down and unpacked, Duncan phoned to say that he had booked a table in a nearby restaurant that he used regularly. His next game plan was that they would all meet up at Roger’s studio at 10am the next day. The band had been briefed and all of their instruments had already been set up for action. Duncan was in control now. He was focused, decisive and full of daring energy.

  The recording studio was small and compact, and as the three of them entered, Dorothy looked around at all the gadgetry and electronic equipment and realised that all of this was completely foreign and new to her. Then she saw him approaching them. He was so tall that his head was nearly touching the ceiling. He was wearing a purple suit and a bright green cravat with orange polka dots. Immediately she noticed that he bore a striking resemblance to Vivian Stanshall. This must be Roger, she thought. When he saw Duncan he became animated and hugged him and lifted him off the floor. Dorothy thought that Roger may be tall and thin, but he wasn’t lacking in strength.

  “Duncan, old boy! Glad to see you. How are you, you old bugger?”

  When he put Duncan down, he looked over towards Dorothy and the girl. He gracefully swept forward, took Dorothy’s hand and kissed it, then took a step back, with his hands on his hips.

  “The famous Daphne Devine, I presume. I’ve been like a cat on hot bricks since Duncan phoned to say that I would meet you today. I simply can’t tell you how excited I am.”

  He then took Caroline’s hand and went through a similar routine, then clapped his hands with delight.

  “Well, the band are already waiting in my office. Let’s go and meet them.”

  Dorothy was impressed by Roger’s exuberance and completely open manner. He reminded her of a throwback from the ’60s. She could see why Duncan liked him, and she thought that she would probably like him herself. As they passed through the studio she noticed all of the instruments and an array of small speakers and amplifiers set up in a glass-fronted soundproof room. She felt a sudden rush of excitement and anticipation run through her solar plexus.

  Roger led them all into a small back office where the band were waiting. When they saw her, they all stood up so quickly that their chairs nearly fell backwards. They all knew Daphne Devine through old video footage and the vast collection of photos that Duncan had taken. But what they were looking at now was a very smart and elderly woman, and they had not been prepared for it. The roles had been completely reversed and Dorothy was now an old woman in the company of a young band, whereas forty-five years ago she had been a young girl with an ageing band. She immediately noticed the looks of surprise on their faces, and of course knew why. She quickly decided to disarm their surprise with her own brand of sardonic humour, which was another aspect of her Daphne Devine image.

  Her latent doppelgänger kicked in and took over. She put her hands on her hips, let a beaming smile illuminate her face, glowered at them and said, “Well, what were you expecting, sweetie-pies? An eighteen-year-old, half-naked, fat-arsed diva?!”

  The burst of laughter was led by the tall, black and strikingly beautiful Lorraine Lester. It was the cleverest and most spontaneous introduction that Dorothy could have made. Caroline laughed along with all of them, because everything this woman did – her every act, every word, every pose and posture – was a work of art. Daphne Devine was a living masterpiece and now Caroline really understood why Duncan truly loved her. Duncan, who was looking on with Roger towering above him, was gauging the looks on their faces with guarded interest. Yes indeed, they were all going to like Daphne Devine. As the introductions were being made, and while Dorothy was asking them all about themselves, Duncan and Roger slipped away to set up the recording studio.

  The only real difficulty was delivering the grand piano, through an old loading bay at the back of the building, without damaging it. Then Roger had to open and realign partition doors to accommodate the piano, while giving Caroline plenty of room to move and play. But eventually everything fell into place and it was time for work to begin. Right from the start, Roger made it clear that the recording sessions would be long, arduous and sometimes frustrating. He had worked in several recording studios as a multifaceted technician for over twenty-five years before opening his own, and was considered a bit of a genius and maverick. He had a reputation for experimenting and trying out his own ideas that nobody else had even thought of, and this is what he intended to do now. He had got one of the most celebrated and famous jazz singers of all time in his very own studio and he was going to make his own mark, his own brand on the project. Another cog in the Daphne Devine machine was in place.

  Roger had been correct in his predictions about the initial recordings. It was indeed hard work and long hours. Because the band had never played together before, with the exception of Steve Edwards and Dave Martell, it had meant long and sometimes frustrating jamming sessions. But after about two weeks the band began to come together, knowing, feeling and touching each other in unison. And finally the beautiful songs began to take on a life of their own. Dorothy patiently coaxed Lorraine with her own voice range and techniques, and Lorraine listened carefully to the advice of a master. The only one who appeared to be having no problems whatsoever with any of the songs was Caroline. After all, she had written and composed all of them.

  Then after six weeks, the whole album began to take shape. Dorothy’s voice had become so mesmerising, so magical that the whole band listened and watched her in awe. The band started to gravitate towards their own style of playing around this charismatic voice, as if Dorothy’s voice was drawing them in and around her. Lorraine had not only become a gifted and talented jazz singer; she had come of age. Her haunting voice could dance, duck and dive around Dorothy’s like a synchronised swimmer. Roger had spent all of his time mixing, improvising and tweaking various dials, switches and gadgets to produce the sound that he was looking for. And he, along with the rest of them, began to smile when that sound, that ambient vibrat
ion that he was looking for began to engulf and caress the whole studio through the ether.

  The last song to be recorded was, of course, Last Train from Ghost Town. And as Roger played the whole final recording back to them, they all smiled and nodded with pride to each other. They had very good reasons to be proud. They had made an absolute masterpiece together and they all knew it.

  The only one who had not been present during the recordings was Duncan. He had popped in and out during sessions, but his time had been spent on what he did best: putting to work his promotional and advertising talents. And he already had an action plan and ideas that he wanted to put forward. His theory that visual and well-presented photography could be vital to their image was going to work beyond his wildest dreams. He believed that he could bring his own input into the project to bolster Daphne Devine and her band on their initial presentations. He even had a name for the band which he was about to let them all know about. He had an idea for the first promotional photo shoot, which he would do himself, of course. Just like Roger, he had become a vital cog in the wheel of project Daphne Devine, and his soon-to-be-realised genius was about to put the project on the map in dazzling glorious colour.

  They were all sitting on plastic chairs, huddled closely together inside Duncan’s main office. He had bought the cheap white chairs especially for the occasion. Dorothy was thinking that he was looking rather proud of himself, and remembered that he had danced a jig when he heard the final recording, because he literally could not believe the quality, the pure magic of the end product.

  “Right, ladies and gentlemen. While you’ve been working in the recording studio, probably thinking, What’s that lazy bugger been doing? – well, he’s been working too. I’ll get right to the point. With your go-ahead, of course, I would like to put Plan B into action. You need glaring, in-your-face publicity and promotion to pitch a particular image to the public. I’ve kept my ideas strictly private, because I don’t want any bloody poachers to know what I’ve been up to. Pitch number one: the group’s name. Daphne Devine and the Ghost Towns… How does that grab you?”

  They all looked at each other in agreement and then back at Duncan. Duncan grinned from ear to ear when he saw their reaction. He looked each one of them in the face and Dorothy nodded.

  “Any objections to the name?”

  There were none, because they all knew where he was coming from. But he explained anyway.

  “New name, brand-new image and a new style of pitching the image of a very famous singer to the public. This is to add to the mystique of the return of Daphne Devine, with her new young band the Ghost Towns. Now we don’t want to burn our boats with your old fans, but what I’m gunning for, with both barrels, is a brand-new young audience. Do you all understand where I’m coming from? The songs speak for themselves; there is no doubt about that… But the bomb has to be primed together, thrown at the public and then explode. Daphne Devine presents her brand-new album Last Train from Ghost Town, with her sensational new band the Ghost Towns. Ta-da!”

  They all burst into laughter. Duncan had indeed been working doggedly behind the scenes while they had been recording. But he was far from finished. When the laughter died down, he continued.

  “Now for the image. The boys will be rigged out in ’50s-style suits, in bright colours. Lime green, sky blue, bright purple and scarlet, with matching bow ties. The ladies will be in evening dress, designed to their liking. I don’t want any black regalia, because I don’t want for you all to look as if you’ve turned up to do a rendition of funeral dirges, instead of a classy jazz act.”

  They all laughed and nodded in agreement. Duncan really was impressing them with his style.

  “If you don’t already know, my intrepid partner Louise is a fashion designer. Only a modest one, but she is good at what she does, and she’s waiting for the go-ahead to take all of your measurements. Now for the photography and posters. That will be done by none other than me. The idea for the main promotional poster, for concerts and shows, has been haunting me like a ghost right from the start of the project. Get this. All of the band, dressed in their new gear, standing in a close line, one behind another. Peering over each other’s shoulders at Daphne, who is facing them, with a hand on her hip and pointing at them, smiling. This is to give the impression to the public that, Here I am. I’m Daphne Devine and look who I’ve brought for you: my new band the Ghost Towns. Ta-da! How does that grab you? I ain’t finished yet. But any objections, so far?”

  There were no objections at all. Realising that this could be an act of pure genius, they all cheered and applauded a thoroughly delighted Duncan. The Daphne Devine machine was now firing on all cylinders and, barring any unforeseen disaster, it was going to be a juggernaut.

  “Right, Roger has contacted a record producer friend who has just started out on his own. He has heard the final product and as it happens, he has been looking around desperately for a talent that can put Burst Balloon Records firmly on the map. And Roger tells me he cannot believe Last Train from Ghost Town. I’ve kept everything low-key for a reason: I want to keep it pure; as clear as mountain spring water. All poachers, schemers, users and crooked fast-buck business slimeball types are not boarding this vessel. I’ve been robbed, wrong-footed, mugged, duped, used, abused and laughed at all of my life. And I’m not going to let it happen to you.”

  On that note, they all looked at each other seriously and nodded in acknowledgement. And for the first time Dorothy realised that Duncan had been hiding his pain and suffering under a veneer of stoical, devil-may-care bravado for many, many years. In fact, he was protecting them and nurturing them.

  The photo shoot for the album cover and poster took place at the back of Roger’s studio, with the backdrop of cold, grey brick and broken windows, and nothing but blackness beyond the glass. This added to the effect by making Dorothy and the band stand out strikingly, dressed in all of their bright regalia. Dorothy found it amusing, posing in front of her band, with one hand on her hip, while pointing at them with the other. She did not have to put a smile on her face, because it was already there. Duncan flew around with his camera, instructing them to change positions in the line with a ‘surprised to see you’ look on their faces. Then he instructed them, like a military commander, to all face the camera, standing shoulder to shoulder with Dorothy in front of them, with both hands on her hips. The only one who looked slightly awkward and a little bit shy in front of the camera was Caroline. By contrast, Lorraine was thoroughly enjoying every minute of it. She had never experienced attention like this before and Duncan fuelled her enthusiasm with his own. He knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what he was aiming for. He was adding his own touch of magic to project Daphne Devine. With Duncan, Roger and Burst Balloon Records about to mass-produce the album, everything was now in place to be released and unleashed on an unsuspecting public.

  As soon as the posters and album cover had been printed, Duncan hired Louise’s nephew and a couple of his friends to commute all over London, to every main train terminal and underground station, and literally plaster the posters everywhere they could. They even risked crossing the tracks in underground stations, so the posters would be difficult to access and remove.

  Apart from some jamming sessions and honing their skills, it was now time to relax. Dorothy Dodd told Daphne Devine that she was feeling rather pleased with herself. It had been like going back in time for her. Her backing band were easily as good as her old band, and she felt comfortable and relaxed knowing that she was performing with young musicians who were hungry and dedicated to the job in hand. And fortunately, they had all got on very well so far. But she also remembered that her old band would start to irritate each other after long tours, and some trivial bickering and bad feeling could erupt among them, towards the end.

  Duncan’s hunch paid off beyond everybody’s expectations. The posters had been like the musketry. Commuters entering and leaving Lond
on simply could not miss them. Plus, the songs being aired on local radio stations had added the equivalent of air support dramatically. But the real kicker, the real artillery barrage was that Burst Balloon Records simply could not keep up with the demand. The small staff at the company were working flat out. Duncan’s secret fear of piracy never materialised because the public wanted to own, possess and celebrate that they owned the album Last Train from Ghost Town. It was a sensation and a phenomenon. It leapfrogged everything in the album charts, including Darren Delaney’s horrendous drivel Luv Puppy at number fifteen, much to the delight of Duncan and Roger.

  No sooner had the album rocketed to the top of the charts than Duncan became inundated with concert bookings. But before he made any move, he wanted and indeed felt obliged to consult the band about his plans. After long telephone conversations with Dorothy and even longer ones with the Ghost Towns in his office, he was ready to move forward. They would start off by playing a few small venues, perhaps ten or twelve, his theory being that the album had exploded onto the music scene like a massive bomb, but the shock waves from it were yet to come. Last Train from Ghost Town was not going to fade away for a long time, by any measure. The new young audience, who had never even heard of Daphne Devine before, needed time to comprehend the full gravity, the full beauty of this woman’s magical and mysterious voice. They would not have to hear their ageing parents say to them, “Oh yeah, I remember Daphne Devine; she was big when I was a kid”, because Daphne Devine would be singing to them loud and clear over the airwaves. She would be indelibly stamped on their conscious and subconscious minds.

  Duncan had anticipated that when the tickets for the small venues went on sale, they would quickly sell out, so he had only issued limited numbers. And as he had once again rightly anticipated, disappointed fans were demanding in their thousands to know how and when they could buy tickets for other shows in the future. He then used this data to let loose his knock-out punches. He would start with big venues, up and down the country, starting at the Glasgow Apollo, across to Edinburgh, then zigzagging down through every major city in the country. But he would avoid London until the very last. He was receiving feedback from record dealers and venue promoters that Daphne Devine already had a fanatical fan base in Scotland. Hence, Scotland was a good place to kick off the tour. But the real icing on the cake was that London venue promoters were hounding him by phone and email, and literally sending messengers to his agency to vie for bookings. They would get their bookings in the end, but Duncan was biding his time on this one.