Conversations With Rock Stars

Knights And Moonlit Climbs

Mid - Late September, 1974

I boarded the small motorboat that was going to ride in front of the ship that Robert would sail on. He had on white long johns, a belt, tall brown riding boots, and a full-length blond fur cape.

I was taking pictures of the ocean, admiring how the sun glanced off the waves that crashed on the shore. I heard feet crunching on the sand and turned to see Peter Clifton approaching. He reached me and said, "Virginia Parker has caught a cold and won't be joining us here. We need a maiden to give Robert the sword from horseback and you generally fit the part. Do you want to do it?"

"Alright," I said, following him back up to the hillside. The costume designer put me in a short dress with long sleeves, spread a glittery highlighter on my face, and brushed out my hair, adding a few hair extensions in where necessary. It was some time before the sky turned dark so I waited and watched the ocean, while they filmed Robert disembarking the ship and praying to the gods on shore. Stars twinkled out and I got on the horse. One of the crew handed me the sword and I waited for the signal. I didn't have any lines, but it was exciting to be part of a movie.

"We're rolling, in three, two, one. Action!" Peter shouted out. I nudge the horse forward with my knees, aiming towards the camera, and held the sword up with one hand. Robert walked over to me with his arms raised up. I carefully handed over the sword and he took it, keeping it raised over his head, and I turned the horse to ride away.

•••

In one of the scenes, he was supposed to be eating what looked like roasted rats on a stick, but I could be wrong. I was still in my dress and went to go sit by him.

"Bevie, this is delicious. You need try it," he said holding a strip out to me. I shook my head. "No?" He took a bite and munched away. The fire crackled and the heat burned my face. 

•••

October 3rd, 1974

I dropped by the Wick one day, just out of curiosity, to see what Woody had talked me up about. Woody greeted me at the door and lead me to his basement-turned-recording-studio. George Harrison was there, jamming on the guitar with Willie Weeks.

"Gentleman, this is Beverly Madden, famed photographer." I blushed a bit at Woody's introduction and shook hands with Willie and George. "She's quiet and won't bother us," Woody added.

"It's cool, she can stay," George said, going back to his guitar. As the day wore on, all kinds of people dropped by. At one point I went up to the kitchen to get a snack and found Mick Jagger chatting with Ian McLagan. Rod Stewart came, lounging on the couch with me, with a glass of brandy in one hand and the other wrapped around me. Woody and Mick bounced song ideas off one another downstairs.

Keith Richards was laying near me, playing the guitar and humming. Mick had left about two hours ago with Bianca, leaving Keith, Woody, Jimmy Miller (American record producer), and me. Upstairs I heard the front door open and close, then a swift pattering of feet down the stairs to the basement studio. Jimmy appeared and there was a general greeting from the guys. Keith moved to a sitting position, connecting his guitar to an amp, and started strumming. Jimmy was talking to Woody and Jimmy Miller, but inclined his head when the strings whispered to him. He borrowed a guitar from the back wall, plugged it into an amp, and started tuning. Krissy could be heard shouting from upstairs and Woody disappeared. Soon enough, Jimmy and Keith started jamming. Jimmy Miller put on a pair of headphones and disappeared behind the sound booth. Keith had closed his eyes and was playing rhythm, but Jimmy was intently focused on his strings. I sat in quiet astonishment, looking at the musicians before me. I crept over to the sound booth to watch Jimmy Miller in action. Before too long, Woody reappeared and the three of them fell to talking, strumming, and taking cocaine. I lit a cigarette and puffed away on one side of the room on a cushion, writing. Keith had crashed on the opposite side of the room, cradling his guitar in one arm and Woody had disappeared again. Jimmy crawled over to recline next to me.