Weeping Willow. Book 3, Chapter 11 of 23

Chapter 11

Jill was not a promoter, more of an arranger, and she talked Willow through the process of store appearances and the like. She explained that some events would not be able to have all eleven band members, due to logistics, so any performances would have to be tailored to the size of the band, with, at the moment, the quartet being the easiest to move around.

Anywhere within a three-hour drive could be done by coach, with Friday night in a hotel, Saturday in a store, with an afternoon matinee performance and home again Saturday evening. Because of their central location, there were a lot of stores in the Midlands that could be visited. Further afield, though, it would be the quartet flown to the venue with a similar process on the Saturday.

They agreed on a tour, in the first few weeks of the summer holidays, with all eleven playing. Jill would work with promoters to create a loop that wasn’t too strenuous and would be the band likely playing the soft-rock and smooth music. Then, the label would issue the Other Side album, and Willow told her that they would be working to make it a double.

“A comment was made on the weekend about that tour. Have you seen the Other Side disc?”

“Not yet.”

“You need to. It’s very different to what we’re doing now. The comment was odd. I was told that Blastmasters are just a three-chord rock band relying on the big sound to get the message across. We had just played three tracks off the album and told that it was complicated enough to make Blastmasters sound less than us. Do you think that you could look into that. I would hate to have us kicked off the tour because we make them sound bad. I’d rather not be on it in the first place if that’s the case. Our promoter, at the time, was, I think, clutching at any straw he could find. He’d even booked us for a week in the Winter Gardens at Blackpool!”

“All right. I’ll go back to town, talk to Clive and watch the DVD with the sound up. Then I’ll take it around to the promoter of the tour and see if he realised the implications. When he pencilled you in, you were just unknowns, but now have two hit albums and Platinum awards. Where are you the rest of the week?”

“Tomorrow we’re here to finish the round robin. I have the Village Choir practise at the Community Club in the evening. Thursday depends on how we go, and Friday we’ll be getting ready for Saturday evening, when the band are playing a big charity event at the football stadium, and Sunday morning I play the church organ at St. Marys. We normally have lunch in the club.”

“Some school holiday!”

“Busy, but not at school!”

Willow went back to cheer on the other teams and Jill drove back to London, trying to match the netball playing schoolgirl with the star with a Platinum record.

Wendy was waiting at the school when the coach arrived and took Willow home. After dinner, Willow had a relaxing bath with salts in to ease the muscles and went off to bed. Next morning she was ready with breakfast for her parents and Wendy took her into the school. At work, Wendy called the doctor at the clinic to ask about Willow and her sleeping.

That day, the first years were beaten in three of their games, and the second year won three. At the end of all the playing, the second, third, and fifth year were all through to the next round, where eight teams would each be playing two games, in a knock-out semi-final in the morning, and would play the final in the afternoon. That afternoon, Willow emailed Gina to ask if she could take over the keyboard that evening, as she was too stiff and needed another relaxing bath.

On Thursday, the coach was leaving later, so Willow was dropped off at the normal school time, with her uniform from Tuesday washed and ironed. It felt a lot softer now. The team had to wait while the first-year teams played their knock-out semis. Then they were on for their first game. It was a cut and thrust affair, which had her team winning by one point, with Willow needing some dressing on a graze when she had been steamrolled by an opponent.

A drink and a pep-talk later, they were back on the court, against a highly fancied team. They had learned their lesson from the first game, and showed no quarter, knocking out the favourites by two points. The third-year team also made it through to the finals by the barest margin. Because there were another two years to get through, both teams were sent back to the coach and taken to a local café for lunch. While they were away, the fifth-year team lost their semi.

Back at the tennis club, they waited for the first final to be completed, now lasting the normal time period. Then Willow joined her friends on the court. Over the course of the game, she was knocked on her back a few times, but managed to stop a lot of shots at their net. The game was even, with a minute to go, and Willow was able to harass the attacker enough to make her miss. Willow grabbed the ball and threw it over half the length of the court to her Centre, who passed it to the Goal Attack, who had been left in open air. From there, it went to the Shooter, who scored. They were in the lead and didn’t allow the other team any space until the final whistle.

They all jumped up and down and hugged. Next, the third-year team went out, and buoyed by the success, played with a lot of energy, winning by three points. They had to wait until the other two teams played off. With the facilities now much clearer, both teams had showers and changed into going home clothes but were all asked to put their uniform tops on, over the top, for the presentations.

After the last game, all ten teams were gathered in the large marquee, with the losing team given runner-up medals, and the winning team getting medals and a cup to hold until next year. With every presentation, the teams were posed for the official pictures, as well as the teachers taking their own pictures. The coach going back to Blue Coat was full of joy. They had two teams into the finals, and both were going back with cups. Someone must have phoned the Head, as she was there to welcome them and take possession of the cups to display in the school for Monday.

They were still milling around when Wendy arrived. Willow put her sports bag in the back and got in the front.

“How did it go, sweetie?”

“We won, Mum. And so did the thirds. It got a bit brutal at times and I need a bath and some disinfectant on a few scrapes. I’m bushed!”

At home, Wendy put the uniform in the wash while Willow was soaking. Then she went to have a look at the scrapes for herself. She dabbed them with disinfectant and rubbed them with cream to help them scab over. Willow dressed for bed and went off as soon as she had eaten.

Friday morning, Wendy woke her up.

“Time to get up, love. I called the doctor about your tiredness, and she organised a visit to a specialist today. She’s an endocrinologist and will take your blood and the pathology lab will test it. The doctor said that it’s usual for transitioned girls to have the odd problem and that a test is normal. Your father will be taking you in and you can get a taxi home.”

They had breakfast and put the dishes in the washer. Willow went and got ready to go out, gave her mother a hug and a peck on the cheek, and was then driven to the clinic. When she got out, she remembered the other times she had stood there as her father carried on towards work. She just hoped that this time wouldn’t be as drastic as before.

The appointment wasn’t long to wait for. The specialist reviewed the records and took blood.

“Pop down to the café for a while, Willow. I’ll put this through the pathologist with an urgent note. There are several reasons why you need to sleep, but I’m not going to talk about any until we see the results. I’m only asking for a few tests so if you come back in an hour, I’ll be able to tell you what we can do.”

She went to the café and sat with a coffee and raisin toast. She looked at her phone for the first time in days. There were a few messages of congratulations on the team win yesterday, and one from Gina.

‘Went to your place this morning and you weren’t home. Give me a call.’

She rang Gina.

“Hi, friend. I’m in the clinic waiting for the results of tests. Mum booked me in because I seem to be tired a lot.”

“I can believe it, friend, with all the things that you’ve been doing. I heard that your quick thinking in the last minute put the team in front. You’ll be the girl of the day on Monday.”

“I just did what I had to do. It was full-on; seven games in three days. The third year won as well, so it won’t just be us being spoken to at lunch.”

“Have you checked your emails lately?”

“Not since Monday. I’ve been at the carnival, in the bath, or sleeping since then.”

“Ring me when you leave, and I’ll be on your doorstep.”

Wondering what was so momentous that Gina needed to see her, she finished her coffee and toast, then scrolled through the other messages, deleting all those that were just taking up space. She got herself another drink, finished it, and went to the toilet before heading back to the specialist’s office. The receptionist noted her return, and she read an old fashion magazine while she waited. The first time that she had been at the clinic, she would have only looked at the pictures to check out the women, now she only saw the clothes.

When she was ushered in, the specialist smiled as she sat down.

“Willow, I have the results back and I can tell you that your problem is that you have an onset of anaemia, from a lack of iron and vitamin B-twelve. If it was left to go further, you would be starting to have problems, and your blood would be in a far worse state, possibly leading to Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. What we can do is very easy. I need you to see your doctor who will give you vitamin B-twelve injections. Weekly for a month, and then get blood taken for a path test. You can have the injections and blood taken at your school, with the resident nurse. I will email her a pathology request form. I’ll call your doctor to expect you and give you a script for the first six injections. Her nurse will give you the first one and you should take this note and the rest of the ampules to the school nurse. The other thing is to try and eat more meat or take iron tablets.”

Willow took the script and went to the pharmacy to get it filled. Then she reported to her own doctor’s office, where she was given the first injection. As she was waiting for the taxi, she rang Gina to say she was on her way home, and then rang Wendy to tell her the result of her clinic visit.

When the taxi dropped her off, Gina was waiting and gave her a long hug.

“Did they find something?”

“Iron and B-twelve deficiency. I was given an injection before I left. Come on in and tell me what’s up.”

They went in and Willow put the kettle on. Then went upstairs to get her laptop. She turned it on and there were several emails about the win yesterday, including one with a photo of the team with the cup, and another one showing her, hair flying, as she reached up to block a pass from an attacker. Gina waited patiently, until she reached the one from Peter, with her statement attached.

“Stay calm, friend. It was quite a shock to me.”

Willow looked at the statement, then sat back.

“I see what you mean.”

She read it again, slowly. The statement showed that the original album downloads had dropped to fifteen thousand, the original CDs had only sold two thousand, and the DVD download had dropped to eight thousand.

“That’s understandable, with the actual album being bundled with the second album.”

The Belgrade shows had earned a hundred and twenty-seven thousand, plus merchandise sales of twenty-two thousand. Hire of the hall was five thousand for each of the four days, and other expenses was another five thousand. The other bands had been paid five thousand each.

“That shows you why there’s so little live music these days. We were in the biggest available theatre and the seats weren’t cheap, yet the return, for three days, is less than a bad month of downloads.”

There were small amounts for playing in the club and at the cathedral, and forty-two thousand in costs, twelve thousand for security and another six thousand for admin. The amount for the school had dropped to three thousand.

“That fits. When we sold a lot of mailable items, it cost a lot in post and packaging.”

The next page had her money from the Hikers sales, which was also going down at two thousand five hundred. It was the next entry that had revved Gina up. The ‘Journey’ CD had sold seven hundred and sixty thousand to give a total of forty thousand over three million.

“Wow! I thought that it would be big, friend, but that blows me away!”

The final income line was the sale of the DVD, which had sold four hundred and fifty thousand. That had earned another two and a quarter million. The bottom line was that all seven members of the band had earned over six hundred and fifty thousand that month, after the commission had been taken. The wind players had each earned around a hundred and sixty-five thousand.

“This is great Gina, but it doesn’t last forever. You can see how quickly the website business has dropped, although a lot of that was our fault by putting out an actual disc. We can all put the hundred thousand into the property syndicate, with enough left over to do some serious damage to mortgages. I expect that Jacob may pay for the work being done on the barn, or even get a house of his own later on. Rick is in line for around four hundred thousand as his share of the Hikers album sales alone.”

“The numbers are so huge, Willow. This has to be the best birthday month ever!”

Willow looked at earlier emails, seven of the band has sent back a music track to her songs and four of Herb’s songs. She took her laptop upstairs and printed off the statement and the carnival photos. Then she set up with the computer, the screen, and the songs, showing Gina how to use the editing software to record a track and overlay others. By the time that Wendy got home, they had combined all the input to the songs, ending up with something they could listen to.

Gina went home with a disc they had burned, and Wendy started preparing dinner, helped by her daughter.

“You said that they gave you an injection today?”

“Yes, Mum. B-Twelve. I have more that I have to give the nurse at school on Monday. She will be giving me another three, one each Friday, and then will be taking a blood sample to send to pathology. After that, it will be once a month until the blood is more normal, followed by the injection every three months. Hopefully, I’ll get the advantage of not getting so sleepy.”

Ashley arrived home and was brought up to date on Willow’s health. They sat and had dinner. When they had cleared the table, and were sitting with hot drinks, Willow looked at her father.

“Dad. How big is the mortgage on this house?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Humour me, please.”

“About five fifty, I think. Why?”

She pulled the statement out of her bag and passed it to him. She watched as he read it and when she saw his eyes go wide with the second page, she grinned.

“Can we pull the balance of the mortgage out of that account and have our own home, please?”

He passed the papers to Wendy.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Dad, I’m sure. Whatever happens next, we’ll have our home, free and clear. If the music business rejects our change of sound, then what I’ve done will ensure our future. You’ll both be able to enjoy your salary, with just the usual payments to make. I’ll have more than enough to take me to university and beyond, as well as getting a share in the returns on one, or maybe two by now, commercial properties. The syndicate will have enough to create a recording studio in Leicester, which we could always hire out to others as a secluded hideaway to practise and record. It will make me feel safe to have a home that I can totally rely on.”

Her parents both stood and Willow stood to be enveloped in the loving arms of her mother and father, with more than a few tears. Ashley went to check the mortgage balance, and Willow sent a message to Peter to transfer that amount to her father’s account on Monday. It would still leave over three hundred thousand in her account. She sent another to Peter, asking him to transfer two hundred thousand to her WR Holdings account. After that, she spent an hour with her violin before going to bed. It had been a very big day.

Saturday morning, she woke feeling more refreshed than usual, but thought that it might be mainly in her own mind, seeing that the injection was only the day before. She took her time dressing casually, and had a breakfast with her parents, all thinking about the ramifications of what they had done the previous evening.

She checked her phone, to find that she would be picked up at five-thirty, by the security detail, to go to the venue. There were also more texts about the win. She went up to her room and brought down the two pictures that she had printed off. She gave them to her mother, who gave her a long hug when she looked at them.

“Send me the email, love, and I’ll print these on photo paper at work, and get a pair of frames for them. They mean as much to me as your news last night. Having my girl in a winning netball team is almost a rite of passage. The school will be interesting for you on Monday.”

Willow went to the church that morning and worked through the hymns for Sunday and met her parents in the club for lunch.

After lunch, Willow listened to the songs that they had worked on and saw that more of the band had sent their added tracks, which she overdubbed to the tracks she already had. They were sounding good, in a ‘big arena rock’ way. ‘Dummy Spitter’ had been given quite a good treatment and would only need some work to be recordable.

She stripped, showered, and made ready for the dinner dance tonight. Her parents had tickets, on a table with Maisie and a few other parents of band members. She dressed in her good underwear, tan tights and the blue dress, with the blue shoes. Wendy did her hair and helped her with her make-up suitable for a performer. Near the pick-up time, she checked that she had everything she needed in her bag and put her school jacket on.

When the people mover came down the road, she hugged her parents.

“See you tonight and have fun. This is the most prestigious event that we’ve played at and should be interesting.”

When she got in the vehicle, she noticed that Sebastian and Max were both in suits.

“Going somewhere tonight, lads?”

“The four of us are doubling as security for you tonight. There’s been a lot of talk in the newspapers and on social media about tonight. Peter and the school are worried that there may be some who want to gatecrash. It’s a good gig, and we get to hear you lot again.”

They picked up Gina, who had her own blue dress and school jacket. Jacob was in a blue shirt, black trousers and his school jacket, and carrying his guitar case.

“Hello, girls. Big do tonight. I would hate to have to wear this as stage costume.”

“We will look good tonight, and that’s what matters.”

“Dad got a phone call today. The vendors at Leicester have agreed with the sale, and it will be finalised next week. Then we can get quotes for the extra work. Dad’s really fired up about this. It’s so different from driving a tractor up and down all day. I helped my parents move into the other house during the week. A week where you covered yourself in glory, my love.”

“Not only glory, but a few cuts and scrapes in the process. What do you think of the new songs?”

“Really good, a step in the new direction, but not over the top, with loud heavy metal. We only need a few more and we’ll be heading for the second disc. I liked the idea of calling it ‘Homegrown’. Hopefully, it can be our first recording in our own studio.”

When they arrived at the football stadium, the vehicle went down a slope and to a parking area. There was spaces next to the lifts and they all went up to the function room. When they walked in, they stopped to look. It was a huge space, with the stage way at the far end. Between them and the stage was a sea of tables and chairs, with silver cutlery and fancy napkins, all with a vase with red roses at the centre of the tables.

“Wow, this must be costing a lot to set up. I hope that the diners are generous with their donations.”

The walked to the stage area, taking off their jackets and putting them out of sight behind the amps. The two girls from the wind section were already there and they hugged the three friends. Nancy was almost beside herself.

“Thank you, thank you. We got our first statements yesterday and my parents had to sit down while I made them a cup of tea. They couldn’t believe what we had been paid. That, alone, has paved my way to university or a music school.”

Willow gave her a hug again.

“It was the same for us, the first payday was like a bolt from the blue, but you get used to it. The seven of us have formed a syndicate to buy leased commercial property, as you now know. Perhaps you four could club together for something. You just need to form a holding company and not go off buying flash cars or holidays. We all have a few more years in school to get through, and I hope that there’ll be a lot more for you. With you on the next album, you should all go for an equal share.”

The other band members started arriving, all in school colours with their jackets on. As they began to set up, they saw that the equipment wasn’t the school amps and keyboards. The four guitar amps were all fifty-watt Vox amps, and the two keyboards were Nord Stage Three with eighty-eight keys and Peavy sixty-watt amps. They all had microphones, including the wind players.

They had time for a sound check before the doors opened, so Willow and Gina tried the new keyboards out, able to master the extra features. The boys tested out the Vox amps, with Jacob and Herb seeing if the sounds through their pedals were any different. Brent moved the cymbals and snare drum to suit his usual placements. A man came in and told them that he was the sound mixer and to play something loud. They played a Moody’s number which used all of them, and he stood in the middle of the room with a tablet in his hand, moving digital sliders.

“I have that setting. When you play background music, I have a master volume which I’ll turn down. I saw you at the Belgrade, so I have a good idea of your range. I sit by the kitchen door and will be there all night. If you want me to boost you, look over and make the ‘higher’ gesture.”

The boys put the guitars on stands and they had a meeting on the stage. Willow took the lead.

“If you look at the room, although it was touted as a dinner dance, there is very little space for dancing. We will need to treat tonight as if we’re in a night club, or on a stage like the Belgrade. We’ll take two breaks, about an hour apart. First section all background and smooth dance tunes, as usual. Second section will be things from the albums, and the third section will include Moody’s and other oddments that we do. When we come back for the second session, I’ll go up first and play three songs solo, with just the piano. We can repeat them later as a group. There will be people that we want to show how versatile we are, so bring your best tonight. We have nothing big booked next month, just a dinner dance at the club in the middle of the month. Now, let’s go and eat.”

Marianne Gregory © 2025