Plum Nellie’s dressing room was large and clean, with big mirrors surrounded by Hollywood lights, and a fridge full of soft drinks. “This is better than what we’re used to,” said Lenny. “There’s even toilet roll in the bog!”

Dave put on his red shirt, then went back to watch the filming. Mickie McFee was performing now. She had had a string of hits in the fifties and was making a comeback. She was at least thirty, Dave guessed, but she looked sexy in a pink sweater stretched tight across her breasts. She had a great voice. She did a soul ballad called “It Hurts Too Much,” and she sounded like a black girl. What must it be like, Dave wondered, to have so much confidence? He was so anxious he felt as if his stomach was full of worms.

The cameramen and technicians liked Mickie—they were mostly the older generation—and they clapped when she finished.

She came down off the stage and saw Dave. “Hello, kid,” she said.

“You were great,” Dave said, and introduced himself.

She asked him about the group. He was telling her about Hamburg when they were interrupted by a man in an Argyle sweater. “Plum Nellie onstage, please,” the man said in a soft voice. “Sorry to butt in, Mickie, darling.” He turned to Dave. “I’m Kelly Jones, producer.” He looked Dave up and down. “You look fab. Get your guitar.” He turned back to Mickie. “You can eat him up later.”

She protested: “Give a girl a chance to play hard to get.”

“That’ll be the day, duckie.”

Mickie waved a good-bye and disappeared.

Dave wondered whether they had meant a single word they had said.

He had little time to think about it. The group got onstage and were shown their places. As usual, Lenny turned up his shirt collar, the way Elvis did. Dave told himself not to be nervous: he would be miming, so he didn’t even have to play the song right! Then they were into it and Walli was fingering the introduction as the record began.

Dave looked at the rows of empty seats and imagined Mickie McFee pulling the pink sweater off over her head to reveal a black brassiere. He grinned happily into the camera and sang the harmony.

The record was two minutes long, but it seemed to be over in five seconds.

He expected to be asked to do it again. They all waited onstage. Kelly Jones was talking earnestly to Eric. After a minute they both came over to the group. Eric said: “Technical problem, lads.”

Dave feared there was something wrong with their performance, and the television appearance might be canceled.

Lenny said: “What technical problem?”

Eric said: “It’s you, Lenny, I’m sorry.”

“What are you talking about?”

Eric looked at Kelly, who said: “This show is about kids with groovy clothes and Beatle haircuts raving to the latest hits. I’m sorry, Lenny, but you’re not a kid, and your haircut is five years out of date.”