Light Up My Life

Done the film star, now it's the rock star. All song titles don't exist (except 'Wish You Were Here')I haven't actually written any lyrics for any of the songs, they wouldn't be as good as they should be.

***




Excerpt from the interview with Dave Barrett in the Magazine ‘New Rock’.
NR: You seem to be coping with your increasing fame rather well?
DB: I suppose I am. I’ve always just taken things as they come, not taken them for granted. I’m happy to be well known, but if it all went away I hope I’d still be happy.
NR: No tales of booze, pills and groupies from you then?
DB: (Laughs) That’s because boringly, there aren’t any. I won’t deny I like a drink now and then, but never to excess. As for drugs, well, I find the buzz from performing more than enough.
NR: And the groupies?
DB: They’re still around of course, but not as many as in the days of the rock giants. Some unbelievably pretty girls have made it obvious what they’re offering but unfortunately for them I’m still hung up on a girl I went to school with.
NR: Does this girl know?
DB: (Shaking his head in sorrow) No. I never told her how I felt.
NR: Any idea if she is going to be at the special concert you’re holding in your hometown in a few weeks?
DB: Unfortunately I don’t know. But I can hope. (Wry smile)

***

“Hello out there.” I said as I came out onto the stage, peering out through the evening gloom at the thousands of attentive faces, one or two I thought I recognised. “It’s good to be home.” This elicited a huge cheer from my fellows. The free outdoor gig in the park where I had hung around as a kid had been my idea. One reason was that I wanted to give something back to all those fans who had been there at the start: The people who went to the tiniest places just to see me play and set me on the road to fame. That was the explanation I gave to everyone who asked, but there was another reason.
“Lets start with something I know you all want to hear.” I told them. With that we launched into ‘Torn Between Pink And Led’ the song that got me noticed. A song about two rock behemoths and how they inspired me.
We went through most of my back catalogue from the loud ‘No Line Between Rock And Roll’ to the quieter ‘No Fool But Me’ with one or two Floyd and Zeppelin covers thrown in for good measure. We played for over two hours and then did a couple of encores before we played ‘Wish You Were Here’, our usual finale.
Everybody expected the stage lights to go out at this point and most of them did, but one spotlight stayed on, focused on me. I had one more song I wanted to play; a new song, sort of.
“That last song doesn’t quite say what I want to say. What I actually want to say is ‘Hope You Are Here’ and it, and the new piece I’m about to play for you, are both for a girl who is special to me, who I really do hope is here. She doesn’t know who she is, because I never told her back then, but maybe someday I will. This is called ‘Light Up My Life’.”
I began to play it as I’d written it, just me and an acoustic guitar, how I’d started more than fifteen years ago. It wasn’t a long composition, just four verses and no chorus; a simple ode to an unrequited love.
As I finished, the last note hanging in the still night air for a moment, I looked down at the stage. The crowd was silent for a second then exploded into cheers and whistles and calls to hear the song again.
“Glad you like it.” I looked up and smiled. “But the curfew is up, no more time allotted I’m afraid. Thank you all and goodnight.” The spot went out and I left the stage, the cheers still ringing in my ears. I was immensely proud of the reception that ‘Light Up My Life’ had got. That song was the other reason I’d wanted to do this gig. It wasn’t really a new song; I’d written it a long time ago, before ‘Pink And Led’ even, but I felt that I wanted it’s first outing to be special, at the right time and in the right place. This was definitely the right place and I’d decided that tonight was finally the right time.

***

I had invited as many old school friends as I could contact to a club after the gig. I moved around greeting most of them and they all had the same question: Who was the girl in the song? It seemed to be the main topic of conversation. I just shook my head, telling them that it was a secret for now. Apparently there was no real consensus as to her identity, but a lot of suggestions. Some serious, some ridiculous, but no one mentioned the one name I knew it was. Eventually I sat down with what most people would have realised were my ‘core’ friends: John, who had introduced me to the freedom of playing a guitar; Andy, his younger brother, who had been the drummer in a short-lived band we’d had at school; And Gary, an old neighbour who had been the singer in the same band. The band had broken up because the other three, Andy, Gary and a bass player called Rob, thought they might be holding back the guitarist; me. I would have been happy to keep gigging with them even now, but they insisted I was destined for greater things and encouraged me to strike out on my own.
“I reckon if anyone can work out who this mystery girl is, it’s us three.” John said with a smile.
“Go ahead, you’re welcome to try.” I smiled back. I had known it would be like this when I’d introduced the song that way and was determined to keep quiet.
“Okay then,” He paused, “She’s most likely a copper-top, you always seemed to have a thing for a redhead.”
“No point in denying that.” I laughed.
“Probably in your year at school.” He continued.
“Maybe, but not necessarily.”
“And most likely someone we’d not suspect.” He finished and rubbed his chin in thought.
“Never in a million years.” I smirked, but thinking ‘Not bad, he’s nearly there’.
“I know! It’s Mad Mandy!” Gaz shrieked.
“Mandy Ellis? The girl who thought it was funny to kick every boy on the shins at least once a week? You’re kidding right?” I laughed. “And she was a blonde, you berk.”
“Sounds like true love to me!” Andy added.
“Pillock.” John said before going back to his original line of thinking. “It isn’t Miss Harmsworth the music teacher is it? You seemed to spend a lot of time with her.”
“That was because she was helping me write music and teaching me to read it as well. Though I will admit she did have red hair, she was a good ten years older than us, well me, anyway. She was just pushing me in the right direction.” I said.
Not long after I’d first begun to play the guitar I’d gone to see Miss Harmsworth, the junior music teacher, to ask for her help with an early version of ‘Light Up My Life’. She had been delighted to assist me, showing me how to read and write music; she had helped me get ‘Light Up’ finished and even gave me the idea for ‘Pink And Led’. It was also Miss Harmsworth who suggested I try performing some local gigs on my own after the band had split up, even finding the first few for me. If any one person was responsible for setting me on the road to music as a career it was her, so I suppose John’s guess hadn’t been that wide of the mark, but for her it had always been about spreading the love of music, all sorts of music. I was still in contact with her and she kept telling me about children with one musical talent or another. In fact I had dedicated my first album ‘Sunshine After The Storm’ to her, but few people realised that.
“I thought I had it then.” John said ruefully.
“An interesting guess, but I knew this girl way before then.” I gave them a clue before I could stop myself, I did want to tell them.
“Hey! It’s not my little sister is it?” Gaz exclaimed. “She had red hair.”
“Ha!” I laughed. “Your sisters hair was every colour under the sun at one time or another.”
“But you used to walk home with her.” Gary persisted.
“We lived next door to each other Gaz.” I reminded him, rolling my eyes to the ceiling before the four of us collapsed to the floor laughing. As we recovered I saw one of the club’s doormen trying to catch my eye. “Oh well, much as I’d like to hear more of Gaz’s strange suggestions, I have to circulate some more. I’ll catch you later guys.” I got up and walked over to the doorman.
“You requested to be informed if a particular lady arrived sir.” He said in a low voice. “Well I’m pleased to say she gained admittance five minutes ago and is now in the bar I believe.”
I had to know one thing. I asked.
“Was she alone?”
“Her ‘plus one’ was not taken up sir.”
My heart leapt.
“Thanks. There’ll be some drinks for you guys later on.”
“We will appreciate that sir. And I thank you in advance.” He said and then returned to his post. I smiled to myself; she was here!

***

I’d known (perhaps not the right word in the circumstances) Elizabeth Mary Patterson since my early school days, attending the same schools as she did without ever being in the same classes. To begin with she was just part of the background to schoolboy life, one of those kids who didn’t play football and who ran funny; a girl. As we reached our teens and passed through puberty (although not necessarily in that order) I began to look at girls differently and at Elizabeth Mary in particular. However I was shy of actually going up to her and asking her out. Talking to her was manageable; I’d been doing that for years now; but asking her out on a date? No chance. That’s not to say I didn’t go on dates with other girls. There were a fair few I did date at one time or another, but always my thoughts returned to Elizabeth Mary Patterson. She was a redhead of course, and probably the cause of my long-standing fascination, John had been spot-on there. She was a little bit on the short side but with everything in proportion to her height. By the age of fifteen she was to me the most gorgeous creature on the entire planet but I found I couldn’t tell her that. Instead I got tongue-tied and tried to make witty remarks that instead came out as banal and unfunny. I persisted with my attempts for a while but, to me at least, it became obvious that all I was doing was alienating her. I stopped because I couldn’t bear the imperceptible glazed look of ‘not him again’ that flashed across her face. She was still polite to me though, long after other girls would have told me to shove off. That politeness endeared her to me even more but I had to give up for my own sake if not hers. However she was still the girl my mind defaulted to when I was writing a song; I had to make an effort to imagine someone else. Now I wondered if I might finally be able to talk to her properly so I went to the bar area to find out.

She was standing away from the bar looking a little lost and lonely, but observing those around her. She still looked as beautiful as I had always pictured her.
“Hello Elizabeth Mary Patterson.” I said and kissed her hand. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” There was no reaction so I felt safe in assuming she wasn’t married.
“I wasn’t sure I should.” She smiled her heartbreakingly pretty smile, her green eyes lighting up in the way I was fond of recalling.
“Why on earth not?” I asked.
“To be frank, I didn’t think the big rock star could possibly remember me and had just picked my name out of some old records or something.” She looked a little ashamed at the thought. This also seemed to be good news to me.
“Elizabeth Mary, you don’t know how far from the truth you are.” I grinned.
“My parents are the only ones who still call me that.” She grinned back.
“Well, you did tell me that’s what your name was.”
“Twenty years ago, at our first school.” She giggled. “And look at you now, famous and everything. It’s hard to believe that the writer of that beautiful ‘Light Up My Life’ is the same person who couldn’t string two coherent sentences together.”
I blushed at the praise from an unexpected source.
“So you were at the concert then?” I asked to cover up.
“Not as close to the front as I’d have liked.” She said nodding.
“No.” I smiled. “Somebody at the site told me that those at the front had been camping out for two nights to make sure they got good spots. I don’t think I would have. Not just to listen to me. AC\DC maybe, but not me.”
“Oh I don’t know. I might have if I’d thought about it.”
“You? I don’t remember you as a rock chick?”
“I’m not really. But the guy who was playing guitar went to school with me.” She smiled.
“There is that I suppose.” I grinned again, I couldn’t help it, she had that effect on me. “So you enjoyed the new song?” I asked.
“A lot.” She nodded. “I felt that it was as if it was written about me, but I can’t see why.” She laughed nervously. “I suppose a lot of girls say things like that?”
‘NOW!’ My sub-conscious screamed. ‘TELL HER NOW!!’ But I bottled out.
“Well, we did go to school together for a long time, maybe some of it rubbed off on me.” I said instead.
“You wouldn’t care to hint about who that song is really about would you?” She smiled.
‘She knows, she knows’ the inner voice said.
“I don’t think I ought to, it might cause problems.” I told her.
“I suppose.” Elizabeth Mary grudgingly agreed, disappointment in her tone.
“Listen, can we talk later? After everyone has gone home?” I asked. “I’d like to catch up with you, but at the moment I sort of have to circulate.”
“Well…” There was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
“You’ve got someone waiting for you? I understand.”
“No, it’s not that. I just think I shouldn’t be hanging around with a rock star.”
“How about hanging around with an old school friend?” I countered but Elizabeth Mary still seemed unconvinced. “I promise I’m not going to whisk you off to some secret sex dungeon.” I smiled.
“Another illusion shattered!” She laughed. “All right I’ll wait here for you.”

Everyone was leaving noisily via the front door of the club now. I found Elizabeth Mary waiting for me more or less where I’d left her.
“Hi!” I said.
“Hi back!”
“I don’t suppose you know of somewhere we can go to talk?” I asked. “Only I wouldn’t feel right taking you to my hotel room.”
“That’s not proper rock star behaviour.” She laughed.
“No, but it is Dave Barrett behaviour.” I grinned back.
“I suppose we could head to my place, if you don’t mind a walk that is. We can cut through the park, and talk as we go.” She suggested.
“Sure. It’ll certainly fox the paparazzi out the front.” I said with a smirk. “Lead on Elizabeth Mary Patterson.”
We slipped out the rear of the club and into the park unobserved. The cool night air was invigorating as long as we didn’t dawdle.
“So then Elizabeth Mary, no romantic attachments to speak of?” I asked as we followed one of the paths through the park. It was one of the things I was still concerned about.
“Why do you say that?”
“Apart from being nosy? Well, you came alone, you’re not worried about taking me to your place, and you have no wedding band on your finger.”
“Well, you’re right; there is no special person in my life. Congratulations, very Sherlock Holmes.” She grinned. “But it still sounded like you were fishing.”
“I was I suppose.” I went red.
“Any reason?” She asked mildly.
‘Now or never’ the inner voice said. I took a deep breath.
“Because Elizabeth Mary Patterson ‘Light Up My Life’ actually is your song. I wrote it for you back at school.”
She stopped suddenly, a look of shock on her face. For a brief moment I wondered if I should have kept quiet, but I wanted, no, I NEEDED her to know at long last.
“You’re kidding right?” She said finally.
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m serious. At school I could never tell you how I felt, that was how all those ridiculous conversations came about.”
“If that’s the truth...?”
“It is.”
“…Then why wait until now to tell me? You’ve been getting famous for a while now.”
“I told you; at school I couldn’t express my feelings for you, now I’ve learnt how. And I actually have something to offer you other than pipedreams.”
“You’re offering me fame and money? What sort of woman would that make me?” She was genuinely upset at the suggestion and I knew I’d said it all wrongly. Some things never change. “I’m not some sort of gold digger. Go to hell!” Elizabeth Mary shouted and stormed off.
“Wait! That’s not what I meant at all.” I called out into the now empty night, but she was gone. ‘ You’ve buggered it up again’ the inner voice said quietly.

***

I was heartbroken and mortified by inability to say the right things in the right way to the woman I loved. I contemplated slipping into a world of despair but I realised that I had work to do. ‘Light Up My Life’ had to be got ready for release. I was going to use the live recording from the park, its debut performance. My original intention had been to leave the spoken introduction on the release but instead I edited most of it out. The producer thought it should stay. I wondered if my state of mind was clouding my judgement on the issue so we compromised and released two versions; with and with out the intro. Download sales seemed to indicate I had been wrong as the version with the intro outsold my edited version by two to one, aided no doubt by the concert footage. Still feeling sorry for myself I began to work on some new songs for another album but it became clear I needed to cheer up or I was going to end up with a totally depressing record. Then I got into a spat with the music press because I still steadfastly refused to talk about ‘the light up girl’. And was getting fed up with having to find off questions about her identity. I still felt that I had to protect Elizabeth Mary; it wasn’t her fault that some idiot guitarist had written a song about her.
I’d been trying for the past six months to get in touch with Elizabeth Mary so that I could apologise and try to explain what I’d really meant, but it was all to no avail. She refused to reply to any of my various attempts to contact her. I felt I had to do something and soon. My malaise was worsening and I was turning more to alcohol for relief. I recognised that was a downward spiral that I needed to avoid. To that end I decided that I must do something dramatic or inventive or both. The ‘all or nothing’ approach appealed greatly to me. Add in some old fashioned romancing and I might have a shot. I had found Elizabeth Mary Patterson’s address (I’d tried writing to her) so I decided to go for broke. I knew there was a good chance that I was going to make a complete and utter fool of myself at best and a very real possibility I could end my career at a stroke; but Elizabeth Mary was worth chancing everything for.
I had been investing my money in property for a while now, buying buildings, fixing them up and selling them on or renting them out, so I had bought the house where Elizabeth Mary lived by the simple expedient of offering twice what it was worth. It did cross my mind to just knock on the door and introduce myself as the new landlord but that wasn’t the effect I wanted to achieve. What it did mean was that in my plan the question of trespass became moot, or at least debateable.

***

It was a cold November evening when I finally put my grand scheme into action. Elizabeth Mary’s front room light was on as I pulled up in a battered old van that I had borrowed, so at least she was in. A possible hiccup suddenly occurred to me: Perhaps she had a boyfriend? I shrugged it off; it wouldn’t make me any bigger a pratt than I felt I was already. I pulled my old guitar and the battery-powered amp that I’d used at the start of my gigging career out of the back of the van and set them up in the front garden. It took me back to those early, simple days when I had to set up my own equipment; sometimes in rooms that were even colder than this garden! I switched the amp on and checked it was connected up properly, slightly amazed that I could recall how, and then I spoke into the microphone in the guitar.
“Hello in there!” It didn’t exactly boom out, but it was louder than I remembered. A curtain twitched aside and I saw Elizabeth Mary’s face appear. “This is most definitely just for you this time Elizabeth Mary Patterson.” I said and then began to play ‘Light Up My Life’ just for her in her front garden. I grinned inwardly as I saw a look of complete and utter astonishment appear on her face but didn’t let that stop me from finishing the song. Other residents had heard me and several of them had come outside to see what was happening, one even recognising me. After I finished I waited, hoping that Elizabeth Mary would open the front door, even if it were only to tell me I was an idiot and to get lost. That would at least provide me with some closure. So it was with some relief I saw the door open and Elizabeth Mary poke her head out.
“What are you doing you bloody fool? Get in here, people are staring.” She snapped.
I picked up my gear and followed her inside. She shut the door behind me and span around.
“Are you deliberately being embarrassing? What are you trying to achieve here?” She frowned.
“Actually I’ve achieved my aim.” I said smugly. “I’m talking to you.”
“Pardon me?” She looked confused.
“You’ve been ignoring all my attempts at communication so I devised a little scheme that I thought would do the trick, even if it was only for you to tell me to take a running jump. Again.” My smug grin began to sag as I saw the discomfort on her face.
“I’m… I’m sorry about that. I needed a couple of days to get to think about things. You telling me I was the subject of ‘Light Up My Life’ caught me off guard; shocked me in fact.”
“And then?” I probed gently.
“And then I realised what an ass I’d been.” She went red. “I said some stupid and hurtful things and I was too embarrassed to get in touch with you and say sorry.”
“No. You shouldn’t feel bad. I didn’t say what I wanted to say in the right way, it came out twisted and was easy to misunderstand.” I hung my head.
“Thank you for that.” Elizabeth Mary said, lifting my chin and looking into my eyes.
“Friends again?” I asked.
“Friends.” She said, hugging me.
“Could…could we be more than friends Lizzie?” I asked nervously, using her shortened name for the very first time.
“Maybe, if we work at it.” She smiled. I’d missed seeing that smile in person for a long time. “Hey! What gives? You called me Lizzie!”
“Everyone you know seems to call you Liz or Lizzie so I thought it was about time I did too. If that’s all right with you Elizabeth Mary Patterson?”
“Of course it is, you nitwit.” She threw back her head and laughed.
I smiled with joy. I’d finally got something right. A thought that had been teasing me popped up into my mind.
“Lizzie, how would you like to come and sit in for a while when I record my next album? I still need to finish off writing a couple of songs but that won’t take long now.”
“Won’t that reveal your secret?” She asked matter-of-factly. “I know you’ve been keeping my name out of the press.”
“That was more to protect you than me. And I think I’ve rather let the cat out of the bag with tonight’s little escapade, don’t you?”
“Very probably I suppose.” She giggled.
“So, are you interested?” I persisted.
“Well, I would like to see how it works, the whole process I mean. It’s always interested me.” Lizzie said thoughtfully.
“It’s a deal.” I said. “You do know my studio is at my home, don’t you?” I asked, the thought suddenly coming to me.
“Aren’t they always?” She smiled back.
“I mean you can stay over, if you want. No hanky panky, I swear.” I added as I saw that look cross her face again. “My housekeeper won’t allow it.” I grinned.
“Who is your housekeeper then? Your Mom?” Lizzie laughed, the green in her eyes sparkling in amusement.
“Funny you should say that…” I reddened.
“It is?” She burst out laughing. “Are you sure you’re a rock star? You’re supposed to be throwing TV’s out of windows, not looking after your Mom.”
“Says who?” I grinned now.
“Isn’t it in the manual?”
“There’s a manual?” I managed to look dumbfounded, but couldn’t keep it up. The two of us burst out laughing.
“Why do you call your Mom your housekeeper Dave?” Lizzie asked after we’d recovered.
“It’s an in-joke. She wanted a job title when I put her on my payroll.” I shrugged. “She said if she was being paid she should be doing something. I told her she didn’t have too, but she wouldn’t accept it unless I made it official. In any case she’s there more than me so it works out nicely.”
“It sounds logical when you put it like that,” She mused, “just not very ‘rock star-y’ I suppose.”
“Not really if you put it like that.” I held out my hand. “ “But is it a deal? You come and see how I record an album.”
“How long? For the whole record I mean.”
“Depends. Sometimes we can get most of it down in a few days, sometimes it’s longer.”
“Well, I think I can take a few days off soon, so the answer is yes.” She gave a shy grin.
“Great!” I could hardly contain myself, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ll let you know when as soon as I know.”

***

It was barely three weeks later when I pulled up outside Lizzie’s place in my Aston-Martin. As I braked she was already out of her door with her suitcase.
“Nice wheels.” She said as she dropped her case in the boot.
“Courtesy of your song.” I smiled. “I always wanted one, so I thank you.”
“Hey, you wrote the thing, not me.” She grinned at me. “Come on then, show me how you do it.”

I had to leave Lizzie to settle in and be shown around by my ‘housekeeper’ mom, as I had to take a call from my manager. Apparently a couple of magazines had heard about my little performance in Lizzie’s garden and were keen to interview me. They hadn’t wanted to get in touch directly as they usually did because of my previous attitude about anything concerned with ‘the light up girl’. After a moments thought I told him it would probably be okay but I would call him back; I had to check on something. What I wanted to check was Lizzie; would she be prepared to be revealed formally as ‘the light up girl’?
I found her still in the room that was to be hers for the next week or more.
“Elizabeth Mary, I need to ask you something.” I said.
“Oh dear, that sounds ominous: I’m back to being Elizabeth Mary.” She smirked.
“Sort of serious.” I started, and then paused for a second. “I want to ask if you’d come to a magazine interview with me. I’d like to tell them who ‘the light up girl’ is.” I managed to explain.
Lizzie’s brow furrowed.
“Well,” she said slowly, “revealing all: Not a problem, carry on. But I’m not sure I should be there.”
“Why ever not?”
“Because… well, because they may think we’re more than friends, and that makes me uncomfortable.”
“The ‘gold digger’ thing?”
“Yes.”
“We could always tell them the truth; that we’re just starting to work up a relationship. But you shouldn’t worry about what people think of you Lizzie. Some of them will think the worst whatever you say or do, but we know the truth and so do our friends and family. They’re all that’s important.” I took her hand to reinforce my reassurance.
She looked at me for a long moment, obviously running through things in her mind.
“Okay, I’ll come with you. I’d like to learn as much about your life as I can.”
I smiled.
“Me too. Maybe I can come and watch you at work?”
“At the bank?” She laughed. “You’d be bored in five minutes flat.”
“I never get bored around you Lizzie. Never have, never will.”
“Oh!” She said, taken aback a little. She recovered. “When is this interview then?”
“In the next couple of days.” I shrugged. “I just need to confirm it. But first I want you to come and meet the guys in the band. They should be here by now.”

The three guys who made up the rest of the band; John Henry the drummer, Jonny Twist the bass player and Jimmy Turner the second guitarist, were already in the studio setting up their instruments. Steve Topp, my long time roadie, was there too. He also ran the recording desk for us and was checking it over. I introduced Lizzie to them before I popped back outside to confirm the interview with my manager, telling him there would be two of us present. When I re-entered the studio a couple of minutes later I found Steve showing Lizzie how to work the mixing desk. One look was all I needed to tell me that she wasn’t going to be content with just watching!
I was proved right on that count: Lizzie was soon helping Steve run the desk and quite successfully. However, having tried for most of the day, we found that we couldn’t get the right sound for the song we were trying to get down.
“I can’t put my finger on why, but it just doesn’t sound right.” Jim said as we listened to yet another playback.
“No, it sounds sort of thin.” I agreed.
“The sound?” Jonny asked.
“Yeah. It needs something else.” I said. “Something light and twinkley.”
“How about a piano?” Lizzie suggested.
“That’s right!” I exclaimed. “It needs a piano in the background.”
“Pity none of you can play one,” Steve said, “cos we’ve got a keyboard.”
We all looked over to the rarely used instrument and gave a variety of sighs.
“I played piano at school if that helps.” Lizzie piped up.
The rest of us looked at each other, considering her offer.
“If nothing else, it’d give us an idea.” Jimmy said slowly.
“It would, wouldn’t it?” I mused, rubbing my chin. “Okay then Lizzie, if you want to give it a shot.”
“Weeelll…” Now she sounded dubious. “It’s been a while you know.”
“If it don’t work we ain’t lost nothing Miss Patterson.” Steve said reassuringly, patting her on the shoulder.
“All right then,” Lizzie made up her mind, “I’ll give it a go as long as you don’t expect too much.”
It wasn’t a perfect rendition, but it was good enough to tell us we needed a piano in the mix.
“Sorry, but I am out of practice.” Lizzie apologised.
“But you nearly nailed it.” I said enthusiastically. “If we gave you some time to sort it out, you could play on the track.”
“I could? Would that be okay?” She was goggle-eyed at the suggestion.
“Guys, what do you say?” I asked them.
“Sure.”
“Why not?”
“She’s practically there already.”
“Go for it.”
“There you go Lizzie, you’re voted in as a guest artist.” I turned back to the band. “You lot go and get some grub, I’ll stay and help Liz with the tune.”

***

That first session started something I hadn’t anticipated but was happy to accommodate: Not only was Elizabeth Mary integrating into my personal life she was integrating into my professional life with the band as well. That integration became almost complete a few days later, the day before the interview was scheduled. Lizzie and I were having a morning cup of coffee, waiting for the others to rise (“Like real rock stars.” Lizzie sniggered.) When she asked me to look at something.
“Sure, what is it?” I asked.
“Over the years I’ve written some bits and pieces, poems,” she said nervously and blushing a bit, “and I was wondering if any of them might be worth making into songs.” She gave me a wane smile.
“Let’s have a look and see.” I smiled.
She pulled a sheaf of papers from a bag by her side and, still reddening, passed them to me.
“I doubt that they’re very good, but I’d still like you to see them, tell me what you think.” Having brought up the subject Lizzie was now looking hot and flustered, possibly wishing she hadn’t.
I read through the first few papers that she’d given me, not saying anything as she sat opposite me nervously chewing her lip. I looked up.
“Some of these are really good Lizzie.” I said, looking up.
“You sure you’re not just saying that?”
“No, I’m not. These first two are nearly perfect. Got any ideas for how they’d sound?”
Slightly disbelievingly she looked at the two sheets I was holding up.
“That first one I saw as a gentle song, like ‘Light Up’ is.”
“Yes, I can see that working.” I said looking back at the lyrics.
“That second one I imagined as drum-driven, slowly building up to a climax. Finishing with a bang.”
I nodded. Again I could see what she meant.
“Oooh kaay then. Lets go see.” I said and stood up.
“What? Go where?” She said, startled.
“Down to the studio. To see if we can fit some tunes to these words.”
“You sure? I only wanted to know if they were decent rhymes you know?”
“Liz, these are excellent lyrics. I’m sure with a nudge in the right direction you can put them to music.”
“What do you mean?” Now she was puzzled.
“I mean if you hum it, I’ll play it. And then when its right, we’ll write it down.”
“You’ll write it down you mean?”
“I can’t teach you how to write music that quickly, but I can write down what you want it to sound like.” I smiled. “Though we might have to wait for John Henry to get the second one right. My drumming isn’t that great.”
“Are you being serious?”
“Yes. My drumming sucks.”
“Not that nitwit! Are you serious about turning these poems into songs.”
“Sure. They’re good lyrics. Good enough to go on the album.”
“Now I know you’re pulling my leg.”
“We can wait and ask the others if you like, but they all know a good lyric when they see one.”
“Don’t they just do as you say?”
“I suppose I have the last word, but they have to be able to play this stuff live don’t forget.”
“Look Dave, I don’t want you to put these on your album as a favour. It’s going to have your name above the title.”
“And your name as the composer don’t forget.” I reminded her with a smile. “But only if we can get the tunes right.” I held out my hand. She took it and stood up.
“What are we waiting for?” She grinned as she stood. “Lets get to the studio.”

By the time Steve and the boys in the band arrived Lizzie and I had put together a reasonable demo of the ballad and sketched out some ideas about how the other song should sound.
“You two have been busy.” Steve said with a smile, knowing my work ethic of old.
“Hey, I don’t remember seeing these before.” Jim said, picking up Lizzie’s words.
“What do you think?” I asked, shushing Liz as Jim passed the two pieces of paper around.
“Bit different to your usual stuff.” Jonny said. “Damn good all the same.”
“I like them.” John Henry added. He never talked much unless he felt he had something to add to the conversation.
I smiled and then swept my arm around towards Lizzie.
“They’re not mine. May I present the author.”
The guys all looked to a beaming but blushing Liz.
“Good grief girl, is there anything you can’t do?” Steve asked incredulously.
“I can’t write music.” She giggled.
“Yet.” I added for her.
“So you say.” She became serious again. “Look, I don’t want to put anyone’s nose out of joint. You guys have all been with Dave for years.”
“There’s something you should realise about all of us Liz.” Jim said. “That is that we’re all in this for the music, not the fame and the money.” The others nodded in agreement.
Liz looked at me.
“Miss Harmsworth?” She asked.
I nodded.
“You remember too?”
“I do.”
Steve clapped his hands together.
“So Liz’s songs are in. Lets get them recorded.”

***

Lizzie had been nervous before the interview with the two journalists, asking me what she should say. I told her to just answer the questions they asked, reminding her they weren’t expecting her to be there so any prepared questions they had would be for me. And all they really wanted was the story behind ‘Light Up My Life’.
In the end it was the two journalists who were the most nervous at the start of the interview. They had been thinking I was going to stonewall them again and they’d struggle to get a decent article out of the process. As it turned out it was a very pleasant couple of hours for all of us. Right at the start I had introduced Elizabeth Mary Patterson, telling them that she was ‘the light up girl’ and after answering a few questions about the song; my reasons for writing it and why I’d taken so long to unveil it, it became more or less an interview with ‘the light up girl’ herself. Despite her initial trepidation Lizzie soon settled down, talking easily to the journalists. However when they asked about our feelings toward each other she seemed to become a little twitchy.
“My feelings for Dave are still a bit confused.” She started. “I’m certain of our friendship; we’ve known each other for a long time now. And I’m certain that he wrote a beautiful song about me, and sang it just for me. I would be foolish to deny the depth of feeling Dave has for me, but to me it all happened so quickly; I’m still trying to process it. I have to say that I’m feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment, but bit at a time I’m sorting my feelings out. So all I can say for now is that I do have feelings for Dave, but I’m not sure how deep they are compared to his for me.”

After the journalists had gone Liz and I were sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee.
“I didn’t say anything silly did I?” She asked.
“Not at all.” I smiled. “Although I was happy to find out you had feelings for me.”
“Fool! Of course I do. I’m just not prepared to say how deep they are.” She grinned back. There was a mischievous sparkle to her eyes. During our schooldays I had spent a lot of time looking into those green eyes. Always looking for some hint of benevolence towards me that until recently had never been there. Now there was generally a more caring look; probably not actual love, but caring at least and that was enough for me.
“Why are you staring at me?” Lizzie broke into my thoughts.
Caught off-guard and suddenly flustered I said the first thing that came into my head. Not usually a good idea.
“Sorry. I was lost in the depths of your eyes.”
“Very poetic.” She grinned. “Your next song perhaps?”
“Been done before.” I laughed. “To be serious for a moment, would you like to come and work for me? You’re wasted at the bank you know.”
“As what?” She asked a little suspiciously.
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought it through yet.” I replied helplessly. “You’re still worried about being labelled a gold digger?”
“I am. So unless you’ve got a job that I can do it’s not happening, okay?” Now there was a steely determined look on her face. She meant it. The word ‘wife’ suddenly presented itself to the front of my brain as an alternative, but, attractive as the idea was, I discarded it. It was still too soon to make that suggestion. Instead I changed the subject again.
“Are you going to stay until we’ve finished getting the album tracks down?”
“How long will that be?”
“Maybe five days.”
“Too long. I’m due back at the bank on Monday.” I could tell she was tempted though. “I think I’ll have to stick to the original plan of a week.” She sighed.
“We’ll miss your help.” I suggested.
“You managed before without me, so I know you’re trying to entice me.” She smiled. “But I thank you anyway.”
“You know you can stay as long as you want Lizzie.”
“I think it’s time I returned to the real world.” She gave a shrug.
“Been there, didn’t like it much.” I laughed. Lizzie joined in. The easy laughs of people comfortable with each other. “How about if I take you out to dinner before I run you home Sunday then?” I asked.
“As long as you promise not to try to make me stay on.”
“Promise.”
“Then you’re on.”

***

I was going to take Lizzie out to dinner as promised. She was getting ready in her room and taking her time so I went to chivvy her on a bit. I was about to knock on the door when I heard her singing through the shower door in her room. She was singing ‘Light Up My Life’ and was word perfect. But what really caught my attention was the quality of her voice. It was exquisite. I knew I had to find a way for the rest of the world to hear it; Miss Harmsworth would never forgive me if I didn’t. A sudden recollection hit me: I had never mentioned Miss Harmsworth to her, but she knew about the music teacher’s devotion to all forms of music. Lizzie had played piano at school; that probably meant Miss Harmsworth had taught her. So why had she been working in a bank? The only thing I could think of was that the redoubtable Miss Harmsworth had been unable to inspire Lizzie the same way she had me. Liz obviously had musical talent, but also tended to be realistic. Music hadn’t been the haven for her that it had been for me. Nonetheless I wanted to find a way to get her to sing. Hoping that the band hadn’t left yet, I went to find them. They needed to be in on this as well.

“Guys, I want to find a way to get Lizzie to play at least one concert with us. Any objections?” They shook their heads. “The best way I can think of is for us to play a warm-up gig for the next tour in my and Lizzie’s hometown; get her to play the keyboards as a guest star.” Now they nodded.
“You think she will?” Steve asked.
“I hope so, because that’s not all I want. I want her to sing ‘Light Up’ with me. I’ve just found out what a beautiful singing voice she has.”
“I could’ve told you that boss.” Steve grinned. “She was singing to herself half the time we were recording. I thought you knew.”
I looked at him mildly stunned.
“I wish you’d told me earlier Steve. Now I’m going to have to make something up off the cuff rather than have time to think it through.”

***

The dinner was… well, a bit strange. For a change Liz was doing most of the talking; chattering away about how much fun she’d had ‘watching’ us in the recording studio. This was because I was trying to think of a way to ask her to play with us but couldn’t come up with a way to broach the subject without sounding like I was breaking my promise not to nag her about staying on. Instead I let myself be pulled along by her enthusiasm. By the time we ordered dessert Lizzie was running out of things to say and had noticed my lack of involvement in the conversation.
“What’s the matter?” She asked. “Have you had a relapse and can’t speak to me again?”
“What!? No! Its…” I spluttered, caught off guard by the question.
“Spit it out Dave.” Liz said patiently.
“All right.” I sighed. “Me and the guys really want you to play with us, at least for the warm-up gig we’re planning at home, and I can’t think of a way to ask you without it sounding like nagging.”
“Me? Play with the band? In front of people?” She looked at me in astonishment. “I don’t know if I could Dave.” She said, frowning.
“That’s what I thought you’d say. But I’m not giving in that easily. I’m going to keep on asking for the next couple of months.”
“Why a couple of months?” She asked, smiling at my intensity.
“Because that’s when the album is due out and the tour starts.”
“Then there’s time for you to convince me.” She grinned evilly.

***

It was the warm-up concert for the tour we’d called ‘Green Depths Of The Universe’, the title of the new album. We were in my and Lizzie’s hometown. I’d finally convinced Lizzie to be part of the band; we knew she could play the keyboards and two of the new songs were hers, so I’d kept asking her, almost begging her to join us, at least for this one show. Ever since I’d heard her singing ‘Light Up My Life’ in the shower that evening I did have that other reason. She’d finally said yes, although I was beginning to think she’d been teasing me since the dinner date.
“Hello again!” I called out to the packed theatre, receiving the usual cheer in response. “Shall we start?” I asked. Another cheer greeted the question, so we launched into ‘Pink And Led’.
Two hours later and we were just finishing ‘Wish You Were Here’ having run through most of the new album and our other crowd favourites. Lizzie’s songs had been well received and I caught her smile of satisfaction at their reception. Now was the moment to spring my surprise.
“I know what you’re waiting for.” I smiled to the crowd. “And it’s coming. But it’s going to be a little different.” I turned and motioned for Liz to come and join me at the microphone. Somewhat dumbfounded, she came over. “I thought ‘the light up girl’ herself could help me out.” There was a barrage of applause.
“You can’t be serious!” Lizzie said quietly, her words masked by the cheering.
“Deadly.” I grinned. “I know you can sing it, I’ve heard you.”
“But it sounds wrong when I sing it. The thing is written from a male point of view.” She protested.
“I’ve tweaked it. Your words are on the card on the mike.”
“I can’t…”
“You can Lizzie. You can. Just wait for the noise to drop then we’ll start.”
She gave me a helpless look but took up position behind the mike. The crowd quietened and I began to play. Lizzie began to sing ‘Light Up My Life’ with me joining in. We sang alternate verses; girl version and then boy version. By the time we finished the audience was watching open mouthed at the sheer beauty of the revised song. Lizzie had tears in her eyes as I sang the last verse, joining me in the last lines. There was something else too; the thing I’d been hoping for since childhood, a look of love. We finished and I wrapped my arms around her.
“Thank you Elizabeth Mary Patterson.” I whispered as the audience erupted once again.
“For what?” She sniffed, the tears in her eyes now running down her cheeks.
“For lighting up my life of course!” I said softly. Then, for the first time, and in front of my home crowd, I kissed her properly.

***

Excerpt from interview with Elizabeth Mary (Lizzie M) Patterson in the magazine ‘New Rock’.
NR: So, what’s it like joining a famous band and being the only girl?
EMP: (Laughing) Not as intimidating as I’d feared. All the guys, not just Dave, wanted me to join and I found them to be very protective of me, particularly where the negative reactions to my joining were concerned. There was a fear amongst the fans that I was going to be some sort of ‘Yoko’ figure.
NR: Those fears were dispelled straightaway at the warm-up gig in your hometown though?
EMP: Yes. ‘Light Up’ again. When Dave got me, tricked me really, into singing the revised version with him everyone could see what it meant to both of us. I have a lot to thank that song for: Dave too. He does ‘Light Up My Life’.