How I Left the National Grid Read Online Free

the whiteness of her knuckles, as slowly she began to clench her hand.
    ‘Come on, have whatever you want, Elsa.’
    Sam didn’t recognise Elsa’s expression.
    ‘You’re not really worried, are you?’ he asked.
    She looked up. ‘Of course I am. It’s not worth the risk. Sooner or later you’re going to see that going after him is walking into your own damn grave.’
     
ROBERT WARDNER
    People say that after
Top Of The Pops
it’s never the same, don’t they? Well, they’re right. Bonny called it ‘our first assault on mass consciousness.’ You can push for years, playing for a promoter who doesn’t even turn up, in bars where they think you’re a bunch of hairdressers just because you’ve got a keyboard. But once you’ve grabbed the world by the collar it keeps looking up at you, with morbid interest.
    After our performance we had so much energy. Theo was running up and down the BBC corridors. I asked him, ‘What are you doing?’
    He said ‘I’m looking for Legs And Co.’
    ‘What will they want with you?’
    ‘I’m dangerous now.’
    ‘What, for using curling tongs in the bath? Sit down.’
    Me and Simon went for a swig at the fire exit. Trying to come down in the freezing wind. Still in our onstage gear, security guards in eyeliner. Knocking back a flask of cheap vodka.
    ‘You’re not going to believe this,’ Simon said, trying to light a damp fag.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Julio Iglesias is only hanging around drinking bottled water in the corridor.’
    ‘Who’s that?’
    ‘That lounge-lizard who knocked me guitar out of tune before we went on. No word of an apology.’
    ‘That bloke singing in Spanish?’ I zipped up my jacket.
    His eyes got wider. ‘No, Rob. Don’t.’
    I flexed my fingers.
    ‘What you going to do?’
    ‘I’ll think of something. The Volvo’s out the back. Maybe we can kidnap him for ransom? Get the Latin market to pay us some attention.’
    I was down the hall before he could stop me.
    Iglesias was there. Wavy hair, white-capped teeth, and water that had probably been cooled on the thighs of a virgin moments earlier.
    ‘Julio, do you recognize us?’
    It’s quite a talent to be scared by someone and completely ignore them at the same time.
    Simon wasn’t far behind me. ‘Yeah, Rob. He’ll be a massive fan of our single about the Manchester commute,’ he said.
    At the end of the hall I could hear Bonny shout ‘Rob. You’ve got to be shitting me. Leave him alone.’
    ‘Do you recognise us Julio?’ I asked.
    He flashed a smile, just for a second. Took in the nail varnish and eyeliner and then with one pristine loafer took a small step back.
    ‘Julio Iglesias, I’m arresting you for crimes against Latin culture. You do not have to say anything…’
    Iglesias dropped his water. It landed on the floor with a muffled thump and started pouring out of the nozzle.
    ‘Are you security guys?’ he said. Eyes wide.
    Bonny appeared out of nowhere. An ambassador’s wife crossed with a stick-woman.
    She pointed at her head, twirled a finger. ‘They’re from Manchester,’ she said. ‘They can’t arrest anyone.’
    Our next gig was a sell-out. When we pulled up in the decommissioned coach Bonny had got for us, this chorus-line of girls were waiting. Clutching thermos flasks and green pens.
    Watching.
    Theo thought that made us The Beatles. ‘We’re as big as The Beatles,’ he’d say. ‘Being this famous is scary.’
    ‘We’re nowhere near as big as them,’ I said.
    ‘You sure you want to be?’ Jack asked. Look what happened to Lennon.’
    Theo looked at the girls out of the window and said ‘How are we not famous? All revolutions start with the hearts of teenagers.’
    ‘Jesus. Shut up, Theo,’ Simon said.
    ‘I could sleep with any one of them,’ Theo said. ‘It’s blowjob city out there.’
    I took in the cardigans, pigeon-toed feet and spiral-bound notebooks. ‘Where?’ I asked.
    I looked out at the crowd. It was like someone had gone around every