I didn’t know many of the songs in their set, and to be honest I didn’t enjoy them. The German Genius were heavily influenced by punk and I had no idea what they were trying to do. I wasn’t the only one; after fifteen minutes of their set the punters were getting restless.

‘Play something by the King!’ someone shouted.

Roland rolled his eyes and muttered something to his bandmates. They started making a discordant noise and then Chrissy, eyes closed, started wailing.

Someone booed.

‘It’s Teddy Bear,’ Roland said. ‘Our version. You ignorant fuckers.’

‘Get off,’ someone else shouted. The boos grew louder.

A short man in a brown suit pushed his way to the front and stepped onto the platform. Roland leaned down and listened to him; they evidently knew each other.

‘All right,’ he said, when the man in the suit was gone. ‘The landlord says we’d better play something you lot like if we want to get paid. So, any suggestions.’

‘“Sailing”,’ a woman shouted. ‘By Rod Stewart’

Roland shrugged. ‘“Sailing” it fucking well is, then.’

I have to say the set improved from then on.

I knew better than to tell Roland that, though. Halfway through he spotted me and gave me a wink; when they were finished he came over.

‘What did you think?’

‘It was great. Especially at the start.’

‘Yeah. Well, these ignorant fuckers don’t know what’s good for them. They just want to hear the same old shit and get drunk on Friday and Saturday nights. Not the life for me, man.’

No, I guessed it wasn’t. He preferred to be strung out on heroin seven days a week. It may have been more glamorous, at least in his mind, but it was hardly a way to live.

‘Here.’ Roland handed me his drink. ‘I get free drinks. That – and the money – is the only good thing about doing this.’

‘Is Chrissy in the band for good?’

‘Sure is. She just joined. She’s an amazing singer. Too good for this shit. She could really do something. Go places, you know?’

I looked around. I wanted to talk to her, but she was nowhere to be seen.

‘Where’d she go?’

‘Back home. She’s got a curfew.’ He shook his head. ‘Pain in the tits, that is. She’s old enough to do what she wants, and Mo’s going to have to swallow it.’ He punched me on the arm. ‘Gotta go. I’ve got shit to do, man.’

‘When are you playing again?’ I suddenly missed Roland. I wanted to see him. ‘I’ll come and watch.’

‘I dunno. Not for a while. I’ll let you know.’

‘Cool.’

‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Can you do me a favour?’

‘What?’

‘There’s a watch in the top drawer of the chest of drawers in my bedroom. Can you fetch it for me?’