This is Only the Start

Mike Holden

Description

When Chuck Denbury, an iconic pop star of the 1960's is brutally murdered, the police find it impossible to charge the perpetrators with anything more serious than Grevious Bodily Harm. His son, Kevin, a musician himself, is infuriated by this. However a shadowy organisation contacts him and tells him that they can help to avenge his father's death. He reluctantly agrees to their help but there is a cost. Kevin ventures into a world he never knew existed and where all the members take the names of famous film stars. He bites off far more than he can chew with devastating consequences not only to himself but to many others including his own girlfriend.

Sujets

• Adventure (Guyana)
• Adventure

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 24 février 2014
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781783336531
• Langue: English

Extrait

Title Page
This is Only the Start


by
Michael Holden



Publisher Information
This is Only the Start published in 2014 by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
The right of Michael Holden to be identified as the Author of this Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998
Copyright © 2014 Michael Holden
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any person who does so may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.



Chapter 1
The music in the town centre pub was in full swing and reaching cacophonic proportions. It was a popular venue on Friday and Saturday evenings as the entertainment appealed to all ages, and thus, all ages turned up, whether they be teenagers or the more progressive pensioners. There was usually a singer or a small-sized band with the middle section of the evening devoted to karaoke, not your average karaoke with hopeless drunks constantly singing “Waterloo”, “My way” or “Like a virgin”, but quality singers who, with a little coaching or more self-determination might have made it at one time onto the minor professional circuits.
This particular Friday evening was no exception and the audience was comprised of regulars, some of whom were looking forward to performing, some who visited infrequently and some who had never been before. One reason as to why the evening was a success was because the landlord, one Ronnie Cook and his wife, vetted most of the aspiring artists and those who were too drunk, too out of tune or too thick to read the correct words were banned from going anywhere near the microphone. And so it was tonight.
One of the “volunteers” was a person by the name of Clive Denbury who was a regular karaoke performer. The regulars knew Clive’s history but newcomers would probably not remember him especially if the were under a certain age. For Clive Denbury was a member of the popular ‘sixties group, The Neutrons, who had a string of hits during that period including three Number Ones. In those days he was known as Chuck and was adored then by thousands of teenage girls and probably a few boys as well.
When the group disbanded in the early ‘seventies, his solo career was nowhere near as successful as that of his fellow group member and friend, Eddie Jackson whose solo career lasted well into the ‘nineties, particularly in the States where the group as an entity had been very popular. He had no particular hang-ups about it and had been content to tour the Sixties nostalgia circuits with his Chuck Denbury’s Neutrons group. He had little financial worries as his wife, the beautiful and sexy Carol, as he always called her, saw to it that his high earnings at the time were wisely invested.
Clive always appreciated the talent that was on show and showed his appreciation very enthusiastically. Occasionally he was asked to duet with some of the regular female singers.
It was soon to be his turn and besides taking on one or two of the more familiar tunes, he would also sing a couple of his old hits. Tonight the old Neutrons favourites of “Perhaps you were right” and “Please don’t let the morning come” were belted out along with Bohemian Rhapsody where Clive had the opportunity of several voice changes including the Geordie accent. He was greeted with enthusiastic applause but that applause evaporated into abuse from a corner of the room.
“Oi, fat bastard, you’re fuckin’’crap” shouted someone hiding inside a hood. He was copied by his three friends who were also shouting similar abuse at him and similarly attired. Clive decided to ignore them and returned to the table where his wife and some friends were sitting. As he sat down, he noticed that the four scumbags were being addressed by two “door technicians”. Door technicians, he thought to himself, in his day they were called bouncers and didn’t need a university degree to get the job. They were judged in those days on how far they could throw the scumbags and the further they through them, the more in demand they became. No one even cared about the injuries that they may have inflicted. Nowadays, thought Clive, they daren’t even touch the swine for fear of being arrested.
He put the incident behind him and went to the loo for a pee. Whilst washing his hands, the four scumbags came into the gents
“Look, who’s here, the old fart who can’t sing.”
Clive decided to ignore them but noticed that they had blocked the exit. Before he was able to consider the possible consequencies, the door was pushed open and the two “bouncers” nonchalantly walked in. Looking at the scumbags, one of them asked
“Everything all right? Mr Denbury”
“Yes, I’m OK.” He replied heading towards the door, “Perhaps you should tell these kids that you don’t sell ice-cream here”.
As he was taking his seat besides his wife he saw the bouncers, who had now doubled in number escorting the kids from the pub in a somewhat less than gentle manner. Clive said nothing to his wife about the incident in the toilet.
The landlord had always regarded Clive as “top of the bill” and thus, the karaoke session soon ended. Carol and Clive bade farewell to their friends and left just before eleven o’ clock. As they approached their car, parked in a corner in the car park, the four scumbags appeared from behind a people carrier, shouting further vile abuse as they rushed at Carol and Clive. Two pushed Carol to the ground whilst the third bear-hugged Clive from behind to allow the fourth one to rain punches to his face and stomach. They were interrupted by shouts coming from the pub entrance. The scumbag leader who was throwing the punches, said to his mates,
“Just one last go” before reaching for a knife from his trouser pocket and thrusting it into Clive. As Clive crumpled to the floor, the four scumbags ran off towards the centre of the town.
Carol rushed over to her husband and saw the blood pouring from his stomach. She shouted to the people who had assembled
“Someone call an ambulance, quick. Clive’s been stabbed”
Both the police and an ambulance had been summoned by the landlord and were soon on the scene. The heroic efforts of the paramedics were all in vain as Clive Denbury; known to the world as Chuck and idolised by thousands had drawn his last breath seconds before the paramedics had arrived.



Chapter 2
Some two hundred or so miles away in a trendy pub in east London, Clive’s son, Kevin had just completed the arrangements for a booking and was quite pleased with himself. Like his father, Kevin had a great love and appreciation for music and with being brought up with contemporary music of the last few decades, it gave him that special feel for that genre of music. He always knew that he could never be as good as his father but that was no deterrent. He ran a band of four people and concentrated on “tribute” acts mainly those of the Sixties where the Beatles and Rolling Stones were most requested. He would always throw in his father’s bands renditions to an appreciative if sometimes bemused audience. He was regularly asked to do “Abba” and, of course, this required female additions to the band. These additions usually manifested themselves in the form of his part-time girlfriend, Leah and her friend, Osweena. Neither looked anything like Agnetha or Frida or even sounded like them but when belting out Waterloo or Dancing Queen, they made a passable noise.
The amount of work that they were offered was insufficient to provide any of them with a living, even a very modest one, so gigs had to be scheduled with full time jobs that the members of the band variously held. For Leah and Kevin, these jobs could be different every month or so as neither really wanted to work for anyone other than themselves particularly if that work was boring.
Kevin was currently working as a guide, courier or tour manager, or whatever title was currently in vogue, on a casual basis, for the many companies in London. He was able to show his various employers, the certificates and qualifications needed even though they were fake. He had never been found out because he was good at his job with no one ever needed to check on them.
Not that the lack of money was a real problem to Kevin. His earnings both as a musician and singer or any other jobs that he secured, were never enough to keep his head above water but he had the financial cushion that his apartment in Canary Wharf had been purchased by his father and he was living there rent free. He had this secret agreement with himself that he would include as many Neutrons songs as possible into his gigs which would then create a demand and this ultimately would provide his father with more royalties. Not that he ever told his father of this agreement.
Kevin was in his early thirties but looked younger. He was not a very tall person and was not very remarkable in his build and looks. He was fortunate that he rarely put on weight in spite of his lack of dieting and his craving for chocolate and ice cream. Whilst he was not blessed with the most handsome features that man could have, the opposite sex generally spotted that he had that certain something and that attracted them to him. His eyes were deep blue and his hair, worn short, was an indeterminate colour somewhere between fair and light brown
The job situation and prospects of either Kevin of girlfriend, Leah, was not indicative of their limited intellectual ability, quite the opposite. Both wer