Simon went to the OZ trial at the Old Bailey partly out of a
sense of solidarity but mainly to see who else turned up. The active elements
of the Underground were well represented in the spectator’s gallery and
revolution was in the air. He turned down an offer from Felix Dennis to
participate in a planned disruption of the David Frost Show. Its effect on the
system, he decided, would probably be minimal and it isn’t the kind of career
move he needs at this stage anyway.
The editor’s job at Tin Pan Times is working out nicely.
Simon now has his own office and he quite enjoys the power that goes with it.
New young writers are being hired and Simon is the one who interviews them. He
has a major say on cover design. The book about Rod Stewart…just a collection
of photographs really, Rod in a kilt, Rod kicking a ball, Rod having his hair
done, Rod in a Celtic shirt, Rod in compromising situations taken with a
Polaroid camera by Rod himself (not used in the book), all interspersed with
gossipy stuff about Rod, Rod’s clothes, what Rod has for breakfast, Rod’s
favourite colour and so on…is selling like hotcakes. Similar books about the
Small Faces and the Kinks are being rushed out and Monty has an idea for a
magazine or two aimed at teenage girls. Good money in it he thinks. So all in
all Simon is feeling pretty flush.
But he quickly realizes that his job at Tin Pan Times
depends largely on his relationship with Samantha. Nobody ever says so in as
many words but it is mutually understood. He likes Samantha of course but opportunities
for infidelity are everywhere, which means he has to be careful. One weekend he
takes Sam to meet his parents. While she is chatting with his mother in the
kitchen Simon tells his father about the recent trip to America.
‘Oh, how was that?’
‘Bloody amazing. I went with the Stones. It was non-stop
craziness. The Americans loved us.’
‘Us?’
‘The tour. The Yanks went crazy. It was as if we’d taken
over the whole country.’
This was not strictly true. The tour had been badly
organized. Many mistakes had been made. California had been crazy all right. No
need for hyperbole. All those people driving on freeways, hanging out by
swimming pools had struck Simon as quite bizarre. The tired palm trees, the
stucco, the smog, the unchanging weather. There they were sitting on the edge
of the Western world, with a fault line running through the middle. But in a
strange way it worked. And it wasn’t all crass materialism. There was a
definite spiritual side to it too. Californians were searching but for what?
And what about that Leary character at Laguna Beach? Mr.Turn on, tune in, drop
out. He certainly seemed to know what’s going on…or was he just another
salesman?
His father resists the temptation to caution him about drugs
and asks about Samantha instead.
‘Nice girl,’ he says ‘You seem keen. Are you two actually
cohabiting?”’
He knows about Simon’s little pied-a-terre in the Chelsea
mews. He should. He lent him the money for the down payment. Even claimed it on
taxes. They hadn’t mentioned it to Simon’s mother.
‘Samantha’s on the pill is she?’
‘Think so Dad.’
‘Right. Only reason I ask is because sometimes life makes
decisions for us. How’s the bolt-hole coming along?’
Simon tells his father about progress on the Chelsea mews
house. All is well. Some excavating was done. A new damp-course was installed
and the next step will be to get a I beam files this . Simon has filed the
thought about pregnancy away for later.
On the drive back to London he raises the subject of birth
control. Samantha asks why does he ask. Oh, no reason, just thinking.
The more he thinks about the ‘bolt-hole’ the more he likes
it. He needs a bigger place anyway. His wardrobe seems to have grown
considerably since Sam came into his life. It was Samantha who got him started
on the unisex clothes. Velvet, satin, that kind of thing. Quite a selection.
It’s the androgynous look as popularized by Anita Pallenberg whose authority in
matters of fashion goes unquestioned. Anything Anita wears is OK with the
beautiful people. Simon likes most of it but he draws the line at trailing
scarves and Jimmy Page trousers. Sam chides him for being straight. He says he
feels like a twerp. She has even tried to interest him in lipstick and a dab of
kohl. It’s all good-natured domestic banter. There has been talk of Simon and
Samantha getting a place together.
At the moment we find Simon in the process of getting ready
for an expedition to the Speakeasy. He is seriously considering a bright red
paisley jacket made out of some kind of upholstery fabric, recently inherited,
he can’t quite remember how, from Brian Jones. It’s trippy but perhaps a little
flamboyant. He looks at a denim jacket but it’s a bit on the scruffy side. He
settles eventually for a lacy white shirt, navy-blue frock coat and
quasi-military trousers.
How do I look he asks the girl on the bed who is not
Samantha. “You look fab.” She says pausing momentarily in the search for her
underwear.
Fab!! Did she say FAB? And without a hint of irony? She’ll
have to go.
