Tender (A britpop era fiction)

Bring It On Down

"Compared to the amount of stuff they did on their own? Seriously, that doesn't mean anything. I'm not a part of Oasis, I never was."

"Some people would disagree with you on that."

"Who?"

"Noel, for example."

...

I stare at him.

"What do you mean?" I ask with a trembling voice. Matt grabs his iPad.

"I probably shouldn't show you this" he says as he swipes around on it. "I'll let the matter be after it, I promise." He hands me the iPad and I see the frozen frame of Noel. Todays Noel. I study his features for a moment. Normally I avoid everything that has his or Liams name on it so it's been a while since I saw a recent picture of him. He looks good. Healthy. Happy. Still has great hair that fucker. Subconciously I touch the screen and start the video.

"How important do you think it was for Oasis in those days to have people that supported them?" It's Matts voice asking.

"How important? It was fuckin essential. Without Coyley, without Phil we probably would've given up. They believed in us from the first day." Noel hesitates for a moment.

"And our kid Claire. She probably was quite important too."

"How do you mean?"

"Always encouraged us. Not with a lot of lovey dovey words ya know. We never were that kind of people. But I know she helped us get some gigs. And she gave me money to record some songs. Ehm..." He rubs his ear. I can feel my eyes dwell up with tears. He always does that when he's in loss for a clever answer.

"Ya know, our kid never told me but I think she took one job or two so she could help. And she came to gigs whenever she could, helped to built the gear an' everything. There was a time when Oasis had not five but eight members. Us, Coyley, Phil and our sister." Noel smiles bitterly. "Well, at least before she became a different person."

Thrown off the course, I hand him back the iPad.

"Is that from his interview?" My voice is still trembling. I feel like someone has punched me in the gut. Matt nods.

"I think you would be surprised about the way he talks about y-"

"Please" I interrupt and struggle to hold back the tears. I close my eyes. "Fuck."

"Claire, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Could you do me a favor?" I ask.

"Of course!"

"Don't give me hope. Don't make me believe this whole thing could lead to anything more than me telling my side of the story. I've hoped to often for me brothers and me to reconciliate. It never happened. I found my peace with it." He looks at me in silence. I sense he doesn't believe me and indeed, it was a foul and weak lie. My reaction alone tells a different story.

At last, Matt nods and points to his notes.

"Should we continue with the first weeks at Creations?"

"Yes, please." I collect myself and straighten my back. I think of me mam. A woman with nerves of steel. I hope there is at least a bit of that in me.

"The band got on brilliant with the Creation people. How could they not? A bunch of mad drug monkeys they were, brilliant and funny people but just as fucked up as us. God knows how they got stuff actually done, it seemed that everytime I was there everyone was high as a kite. Me brothers included. Me included.