England's Rose
PART THREE

Chapter Fourteen: Doing London

"I don't know what's with 'er today. First she's all chirpy an 'appy, then she's bein' a spoiled brat an' tryin' to control everyone again." Jetta tossed her dirty clothing down into her case, towelling dry her long black hair with a frustrated sigh. "C'mon, Stormer. You 'ave the answer to everythin' psychological. What's the deal with 'er? English food don't suit 'er or somethin'?"
Stormer, who had come to reclaim her hairbrush sat down on the bed, a thoughtful look on her face. Misfit heart to hearts were not common occurances, and, as she had said to Laura, they were hard to break down, but these days she had more or less gained both Jetta and Roxy's full trust, and as much of Pizzazz's as she was ever likely to get. Of all of them it was Pizzazz who was most wary of trusting anyone - Stormer knew this was a throwback to when Mrs Gabor had walked out on her family when Pizzazz had been a child - and her intimidating character meant that the synth player was often not brave enough to push things any further.
Jetta, however, since their heart to heart some months ago regarding the fiasco at Wissex had begun to use Stormer more and more to air her grievances to...she was sharp enough to see that it was Stormer's sensitivity that kept the band functioning and together, and though she did not wholly understand how to transmit that kind of emotion herself, she knew that the synth player had a better understanding of any of them than they could hope to have of each other. It was that strange understanding which had kept Stormer with the band, though other opportunities had come her way, and these days she was grateful for it. Roxy had become like a surrogate sister, despite the bass player's tough front, and if it hadn't been for that closeness to Roxy, Stormer was sure that she and Jetta would have developed a relationship on an equal wavelength.
But Jetta had always held back just that little bit. Friends they were most of the time, but sisters...that was another step entirely.
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe Pizzazz doesn't like Laura?" The synth player said now. Jetta paused, sending Stormer a confused glance.
"Why would she care? Tisn't like I want Laura to join the Misfits or anythin', it was jus' cool to see her."
"I know that, and you know that. But maybe Pizzazz doesn't see it that way." Stormer shrugged.
Jetta sat down on her bed.
"Okay. Explain. 'Ow does Pizzazz see it?" She asked.
"Well, it might be a long shot, but you and she have always gotten on pretty well, haven't you? She lets you speak to her pretty much as an equal...I'd go so far as to say she respects you. And then Laura appears..."
"Wait a minute." Jetta was nothing if not bright. "You tellin' me she's jealous?"
"Could be." Stormer nodded.
"Pizzazz?"
"Yep. Think about it. You have Laura...but who does Pizzazz have outside this band?"
"Her father."
"I mean, to hang out with and all that."
"She doesn't, I guess." Jetta looked thoughtful. "But...Stormer, Pizzazz ain't into friendships. And nor am I...Laura's an exception, you know that, we kinda grew up together, but I ain't in this business to make friends...what you're sayin' is that Pizzazz considers me 'er friend and doesn't want anyone else interferin'. Isn't it?"
"That's what I'm saying." Stormer nodded. "I think you both have to reassess your opinions of friendship. You see, Jetta, we are friends. All of us." She winked. "Now, if you're done with my hairbrush..."
"These days, you talk way too much." Jetta told her. "It was much simpler when you were meek an' quiet and didn't get involved in stuff."
"You asked my opinion." Stormer shrugged.
"You never used to 'ave an opinion." Jetta sighed. "Oh, I don't know, Stormer. You've got me confused now. Pizzazz an' I are friends? Is that your final psychiatric evaluation?"
"Yep." Stormer nodded. "You and she are friends, you and I are friends, Roxy and I are friends...take today, for example. You and Pizzazz teamed up against Roxy...she had a go at me for not backing her up. That's how it usually is. Roxy doesn't like me being friendly with you any more than Pizzazz likes you being friendly with Laura...it's the same situation."
"You still talk to me, though." Jetta pointed out.
"Of course. Why shouldn't I? Roxy doesn't own me any more than Pizzazz owns you. Thing is, I think Roxy knows that I won't abandon her if she needs me...I don't know if Pizzazz knows the same about you."
"Okay, that's enough psychobabble for one night. I only asked a simple question!" Jetta put up her hands. "Enough of the deep stuff, Stormer, please!"
Stormer laughed.
"Okay, I'm done." She relented. "I only came for my hairbrush anyway."
"Here. Take it and for God's sake go!" Jetta exclaimed. "You're givin' me an 'eadache with all this sensitive rubbish!"
"Whatever you say." Stormer grinned, scooping up the brush. "See you at dinner, Jetta."
"If my brain 'asn't exploded first." Jetta muttered, watching her go. "Pizzazz and me are friends? She's talkin' nonsense...we don't do friends! She must've got 'er wires crossed...mustn't she?"

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"Are you sure that it's her?"
The tall dark man glared at his companion across the barren steel table that stood between them, idly fingering the cuffs of his regulation uniform.
"Positive. Look." The visitor pushed a flier across the table. "Need any more proof than that? This Saturday night. It's the biggest deal to hit the capital in ages, everywhere you go people are talking about it."
The dark man scowled, clenching his fist and bringing it down hard on the tabletop, causing the people around him to turn and stare.
"I don't need it rubbin' in, that she's made a success of herself." he snapped. "Listen. She's got to be taken out. I don't care 'ow you do it - Saturday night's show is not allowed to go ahead."
"You mean...you want 'er killed?" The visitor lowered his voice, his expression one of surprised. "Look, mate, I know she an' 'er friends 'ave been trouble for you, but ain't you gettin' carried away? I mean, we're talking about Sheila 'ere...she's your..."
"She's nothing to me." His companion interrupted. "Nothing, you got it? Now, you just find a way of getting her out of the way so that she's indisposed come Saturday night, okay? If she's killed in the process, well, so be it. Sometimes there have to be sacrifices. Just don't fail me! And for 'eaven's sake don't let 'em trace it back to me! My case comes up to review in a couple of months from now, an' I just about 'ave the idiots in 'ere brainwashed to the fact I was a victim of circumstance when I last crossed their wires...if I play me cards right I can avoid them addin' time on for what 'appened in the States, maybe even get 'em to drop the charges altogether. I can't risk 'em gettin' wind of this. I just want 'er dealt with...I just wish I could do it meself." His eyes narrowed. "But it doesn't matter. Inside or outside, I'll still make the Misfits wish they'd never set foot on English soil!"

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"So where exactly are we going tonight, Pizzazz?" Jetta asked as she glanced out of the car window at the speeding scenery. "Anywhere I might know or is it just a wild goose chase we're on?"
"Very funny, smart mouth." Pizzazz snapped. "We're going to find some life in this dumb city, okay? There's a little club we played in one time...I wanna know if it's still here."
"If it's the place I think you mean, it ain't far from where I used to live." Jetta responded, casting her companion an irritated look. "But I dunno about life, Pizzazz..."
"Look, quit tryin' to tell me what to do!" Pizzazz interrupted her, screeching the car violently into a parking lot and hammering her foot down onto the brake. "If you got a problem with my ideas you can always go hang out with your friend, can't you?"
"Oh, drop it." Jetta rolled her eyes. "You're bein' a brat and Eric said no bad publicity."
"Well, Eric doesn't own the company. I do. You better remember that." Pizzazz replied petulantly. She flung open the car door. "Stormer, Roxy, you comin'?"
"Uh yeah, sure." Stormer turned to exchange looks with Roxy, then slipped out of the car, the blond in tow. "Are we playing tonight or just socialising?"
"Catching the vibe." Pizzazz replied. "That hotel was startin' to get to me, and Eric was on our back...so we got a photo shoot tomorrow, so what? Doesn't mean we gotta go to bed early like good little holograms." She turned, leading the way towards the club entrance.
"Brat, brat, brat." Jetta muttered under her breath, getting out of the passenger side and slamming the door with some force, stalking across the carpark after the singer. Roxy raised an eyebrow, shooting Stormer a confused look. Stormer shrugged.
"Don't ask." she said dryly.
"If something's goin' on I wanna know." Roxy frowned. "Is Pizzazz in a mood with Jetta or somethin'? Is she gonna kick her out?"
"Nothing like that." Stormer shook her head. "Just...temper tantrums, that's all."
"What's new." Roxy rolled her eyes heavenwards. "Okay. So we ditch them tonight, right? And we go find somethin' to eat and some action of our own. Yeah?"
"Well..."
"C'mon, Stormer, don't wimp out on me." Roxy instructed. "You wanna spend the night with those two?"
"No...actually, I don't." Stormer admitted. "Okay. Count me in. But I don't have much money on me, Roxy..."
"That's ok. Charge it to Eric or Pizzazz's darlin' daddy." Roxy grinned. Stormer shook her head slowly.
"You're impossible." she decided.
"So?" Roxy shrugged. "You gotta take advantage of things, Stormer, otherwise you don't get nowhere in this crummy world. You get me?"
"Yeah, I think so." Stormer nodded. "Okay...I think food is over that way. Let's go now, before they realise we've split."
"Works for me." Roxy nodded. "C'mon."
"Well? So? What now?" Jetta had soon caught up with her temperamental bandmate, putting her hands on her hips. "You gonna sit an' sulk all evenin', or what? You ain't no fun in this mood, Pizzazz."
"I told you, you don't have to stick around." Pizzazz retorted. "You don't even have to be a Misfit, if there are other things you'd rather be involved in."
"Oh, grow up." Jetta snapped. "Threats ain't pretty, Pizzazz, an' I don't react well to 'em, so don't bother. You might scare a lot of people with 'em, but you ain't scaring me."
Pizzazz pulled a face.
"I don't like being talked back to." She snapped.
"Well, sometimes you need it." Jetta folded her arms. "Listen. We got a big deal concert on Saturday. Ain't that more important than the fact I got a friend 'ere in London? You gonna tell me you ain't never had one friend in your life that you trusted in? Not ever?"
"We're Misfits. Why are we even having this conversation?" Pizzazz demanded.
"Because I'm sick of this attitude." Jetta responded. "I've known Laura since we were tiny. If it 'adn't been for 'er I'd most likely be servin' a jail term now for a crime I didn't commit...an' I ain't ashamed to say that she's me mate. She always 'as been a mate to me."
"Friends are soft, Jetta." Pizzazz's tone was cold.
"Maybe." Jetta paused. "You know, Stormer refers to the band as 'er friends."
"Stormer's soft as they come." Pizzazz shrugged. "You think I need friends, Jetta? Well, I don't. Never have. I'm tough and I get through by myself just fine. That's how it is."
Jetta stared at her.
"Stormer was right." she breathed. "You really don't have anyone!"
"What's that wimp been spreadin' about me now?" Anger in her green eyes, Pizzazz grabbed Jetta by the shoulders.
"I asked 'er advice. You were buggin' me." Jetta replied, pushing the other girl's arms away. "Get your paws off me, will ya? She said you were jealous of me 'avin' a friend since you don't got one...except...well...except me."
Pizzazz snorted.
"And what makes you think she's right? I mean, what makes you think I give two hoots about you, Jetta? Any of you? It's business, that's all. Music."
"Hmm." Jetta paused. Then, "Is it?"
"Isn't it?" Pizzazz looked startled. Jetta shrugged.
"Sure, if that's what you want." She agreed. "I'm goin' to get a drink. Be back in a mo."
"No, you wait a minute." Pizzazz grabbed for her again, this time getting her by the wrist. "I want to know what you meant."
"By what?" Jetta turned a level gaze on her companions. "The Misfits don't do friends. You said it yourself."
Pizzazz was silent for a moment. Then she let out a cry of frustration.
"Oh, whatever!" she exclaimed. "Quit talkin' nonsense, will ya? Bein' in this country's turned your head goopy."
"Maybe." Jetta nodded. "But seein' Laura again made me think some, that's all." She winked. "Who knows? Maybe Stormer is right."
And with that she was gone into the crowd, leaving Pizzazz staring after her. So stunned was she by her companion's words that she forgot to be angry at Stormer. Instead she found herself turning the conversation over in her mind. And, as she did so, she realised that there was an element of truth in it. Jetta meant more to her than just a business associate - she was a friend. True, a strange kind of friend, but she hadn't liked Laura encroaching on the group earlier that day. Her world had always been insecure, and she had a deep, subconscious fear of being abandoned in the same way as when her mother had left. Usually she used her intimidating and fearsome temperament to keep people in line, but that had never worked with Jetta. She sighed, heading off in the direction her bandmate had gone. It all made little sense to her.
As she spotted the dark-haired girl under the bright lights, out of the corner of her eye she saw someone also heading her way, someone tall and shifty and meaning business. Somehow Pizzazz knew that he meant Jetta harm. He was dressed in thick dark clothes, with shades concealing his eyes and his hair slicked back from his head beneath a hat. Jetta had not seen him, but he grabbed her by the shoulder, startling her as he did so.
"What the?"
"Silence, princess. I ain't playin' with you. You an' I got business." His voice was low and husky, and though it was vaguely familiar to Jetta's ears, she could not place it, and quickly dismissed it.
"Get lost, creep!" Pizzazz had seen enough, descending upon the scene with her usual lack of subtlety and shoving the man aside.. "If you want an autograph, write our office."
Jetta took the opportunity to get free of his grip, but afraid to be recognised the man had quickly disappeared into the darkness, his attire helping him to blend into the scenery.
She took a deep breath.
"Creep." She muttered. "Ta, Pizzazz. I 'ate losers like 'im."
"What do you reckon he wanted?" Pizzazz asked. Jetta shrugged.
"Who cares? There are a lot of shady people round this area, Pizzazz. That was why I didn't want to come back 'ere. Sure, I grew up in it, but I'm a stranger 'ere now, an' people see strangers as easy money. 'E probably thought 'e could get a few quid outta me by threats."
"Jerk." Pizzazz snorted. "I'd like to see him try it on with me."
Jetta laughed.
"I think 'e already got a taste of what you can do." she said dryly, realising as she did so that the earlier tension was gone. Neither of them had said as much, but the fight was behind them. Pizzazz nodded, folding her arms decidedly.
"You bet." she agreed. "C'mon. Let's get a drink and enjoy ourselves, huh? We got work to do tomorrow and it's gonna be a major drag - I wanna enjoy myself while Eric isn't nagging at us!"
"Works for me." Jetta agreed. "'Ere, where did Stormer an' Roxy go?"
"Who cares?" Pizzazz shrugged. "Their loss. Now come on!"

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"It would have to rain!"
Roxy peered out of the rain-soaked window of her hotel room, a grimace on her face as she pulled on her jacket, tucking her hair behind her ear. "This whole thing is gonna be a waste of time, Stormer. We'll never get any good shots if this goes on an' I hate gettin' wet!"
"I think Eric said we'll be in a studio most of the shoot. It's just that they'd like some shots of us at famous London sights too, and maybe the weather will have cleared by then." Stormer, who had gone to see if her friend was ready for breakfast smiled in amusement. She knew Roxy disliked early morning starts more than anything.
"Well, I still say it sucks." Roxy folded her arms. "It ain't no fun at all if we gotta work all the time! How long we gonna be there for, huh?"
"Don't know. You know Eric, he never tells us anything." Stormer shrugged helplessly. "C'mon, Roxy. They're waiting for us downstairs for breakfast."
"Come on, Roxy, do this, Roxy, do that, Roxy." Roxy mimicked with a frown. "You're turnin' into my mother, Stormer!"
Stormer laughed.
"Am I?" She asked, looking slightly sheepish. "Sorry. I didn't mean to nag."
"Sometimes you're a real drag, you know that?" Roxy told her. Stormer raised an eyebrow.
"Why do you hang out with me, then?" she asked playfully. Roxy rolled her eyes.
"Quit it, or I won't." she warned. "Now, you said breakfast was ready? I'm starving!"

The studio was bustling with people when the girls arrived, and they were hurried into make-up at top speed in order to get as long a time as possible on the set that was being specially constructed outside.
"So when do we do the interview?" Pizzazz asked Eric once they were primped and ready. "We doin' that today as well?"
"After lunch, that's the plan." Eric responded. "It won't be anything too in-depth. Just your general 'who, what, where, why, when' kinda spiel and then anything else they happen to think might appeal to the brainless masses. Play along, Pizzazz, you girls are doing great here. The more exposure you get, the better. And no more food fights in restaurants, please!"
"We are playin' along with you and your boring schedule." Pizzazz pouted. "We're here, ain't we? And as for the food fight, we have to have some fun, don't we? We haven't wrecked the hotel!"
"Yet." Eric intoned dryly. "But I'm sure it's next on the agenda. I have noticed that the room service bill is already kinda high."
"Probably Roxy." Pizzazz shrugged. "She eats like a pig and you know it. Anyway, the company can afford it. Relax, Eric. Money is not an issue here."
"Yeah, well, you don't have to balance the company's accounts." Eric rolled his eyes skywards. "Why do you never take these things seriously, Pizzazz? This is a business, not a game!"
"And you're my employee, not my father." Pizzazz's eyes narrowed. "The company can handle it and that's final. Don't argue with me."
"Misfits?" A girl with a clipboard hurried over to the group at that point, a flustered expression on her face. "Can we have you on set please? The photographer's arrived and they want to get going straight away...busy schedule, he said."
"We have a busy schedule too, you know." Pizzazz got elegantly to her feet, indicating for her bandmates to follow her. "C'mon, girls. Let's go look pretty for this guy's cameras."
"How many pictures to they want? It's just for an article, right?" Jetta asked. Pizzazz shrugged.
"Don't know. Think so. Eric said this morning, definitely, that there was an interview and he just told me it would be this afternoon, so I guess that's what's gonna happen." she grimaced. "They'd better feed us good. I don't like working full days."
"None of us do. Especially when we've been out on the town the night before." Jetta responded dryly. "We didn't get in till 'alf three this mornin'...then we were up at nine for this. We'll be dead by Wembley."
"A girl's gotta have fun." Pizzazz shrugged.
"Oh, definitely. It was the early mornin' photos I was complainin' about." Jetta replied. "Still, if it's good for our image...just seems like we're always 'avin' our photos taken by strange blokes in bad sweaters!"
"You noticed that too, huh?" Pizzazz smirked. "Guess they chose a career behind the camera since they'd break the lens if they were round the other side of it. C'mon. Let's see what kind of weirdo we got this time."
Two gruelling hours later, hot and tired, the Misfits found they had time for a fifteen minute break while the stage was re-set and, grumbling about being shunted around, the four girls located the studio cafeteria, ordering coffee.
"What a morning. I'm aching from standing still." Roxy groaned, resting her head in her hands. "And we gotta go to makeup again before we shoot the next roll? They kiddin'? What is this, some kind of six part exhibition?"
"They sure are doing a lot of shots." Stormer agreed. "And the lights are so hot...I swear I was feeling dizzy under them. At least they gave us a break."
"We were getting a break whether they wanted us to get one or not." Pizzazz said with a shrug. "I was about to walk right off that dumb stage if they hadn't called for a time out when they did. Talk about overkill!"
"Misfits? We're ready for you in makeup now." The girl with the clipboard was back and with a loud groan the group got to their feet, traipsing off after her.
"Wait till I get a hold of Eric. I'll get him for this." Pizzazz muttered as they returned to the little make up room.
None of them noticed that they were being watched from the lighting gallery, across the far side of the studio.
"All right, ladies, can I have you back up on the stage in the original poses, please, just to get a feel of how the set and lights look." The photographer waved his hand to illustrate his point. "Oh yes, that's just fabulous, the colours are a dream! But the alignment..." he indicated Jetta. "Miss, could you move over, just one pace to the left? That's great, wonderful! And you," he indicated Roxy. "You come in to the right..."
"That way." Stormer hissed under her breath, indicating with her finger as Roxy glanced helplessly at her friend. Not knowing left from right was something else she had long kept secret, but every so often she came close to being caught out. Relieved, she took her pace to the right, turning her attention back to the camera.
And then, it happened.
As the photographer adjusted the focus on his camera lens, there was a creaking sound, and before any of them could move, one of the lights came crashing down onto the stage, missing Jetta by mere inches, the bulb shattering into thousands of tiny shards. Jetta inhaled sharply, taking a step back from it amid the squeals of her bandmates. Numb with fear, she could only stare at the object which had come so close to causing her harm.
There was immediate pandemonium as the backstage crew hurried to ascertain the cause of the incident. The group were hustled off the stage by an anxious Eric, and found seats as men and women swarmed over the equipment, checking every screw and nut and bolt twice over.
"Strange that it should come down like that. I'm positive all of them were firmly fixed when I checked them over this morning." The man in charge of the lighting frowned, jumping down from the stage to speak to the group's manager. "Must have been a weak fixing, just gave way. I'm very sorry about all of this...are your girls okay?"
"No thanks to you." Eric was angry. "It was a little too close for comfort. That kind of negligence is not the kind of thing we're used to."
"I promise, Mr. Raymond, that it won't happen again. It passed inspection this morning, I don't understand how it could have come away like that..."
As the two men moved away from the group, Stormer sent Jetta an anxious glance.
"Are you all right?" She murmured. Jetta looked up, startled.
"Huh? Oh, yeah. I ain't 'urt. It missed me."
"You're bleeding!" Pizzazz exclaimed. "Look, Jetta, your leg!"
Jetta glanced down at her torn tights. Sure enough, the glass had scraped her leg and drawn blood, though the fear of the situation had numbed her to any pain. She bit her lip.
"It's okay." she replied quietly. "Just scratches. It's no big deal."
"You could've been killed, of course it's a big deal!" Pizzazz retorted. "Listen, we'll sue the studio for negligence, and then..."
"No!" Jetta held up her hand. "Pizzazz, let it go!"
"Why should she?" Roxy demanded. "It could've been any of us under that stupid light!"
"No...it was meant for me." Jetta shivered involuntarily. "I just know it."
"What?" Stormer stared. "You mean...it was done on purpose?"
"Well, it crossed my mind." Jetta admitted. "I don't know who or why...but you 'eard the guy. He said it was fine and passed inspection earlier. But if the screw was weak as all that it would'a gone earlier. Strange that just after break, just after the men 'ave been adjustin' the position of the bars that it should fall."
"Maybe they knocked it loose by accident." Stormer suggested.
"Maybe." Jetta did not look convinced. "I don't know. I 'ave the creeps about it, though."
She turned back to the stage, shivering once more. "That photographer guy probably saved me life. Whoever loosened it knew our stage positions and worked it out from there...if that guy 'adn't've made me move over then...then..."
Stormer leant over to hug the dark girl and for once there was no mocking remark from either Roxy or Pizzazz. Both girls were equally shocked at the implications of Jetta's words.
"You're okay." The synth player told her gently now. "C'mon. Let's go get you a drink, huh?"
"Sounds good to me." Jetta agreed. "If...if you don't mind, Pizzazz, I ain't in the mood for no more photos today."
"We ain't doing any more photos in this deathtrap studio." Pizzazz told her. "We'll do our interview, then we're going...and we're gonna get to the bottom of this, make no mistake. If someone set that up on purpose..." She clenched her fists.
"But who would set up a stage light to splat Jetta over the head?" Roxy demanded, her choice of words causing Jetta to visibly flinch. "And why?"
"Jetta?" Stormer asked.
"I told you, I don't know."
"Then how do you know it was deliberate, then?" Roxy pressed.
"I don't know. But I 'ave a feelin'. A kind of...creepy feelin'. Before it fell I felt somethin' was goin' to 'appen, and then it did...I just knew. And now I can't shake the feelin' that it was meant for me." Jetta paused, getting a grip on herself. "Okay, let's go grab a drink or somethin'. Anyone else thirsty?"
As they headed off, Eric returned to the group.
"Well?" he said. "Pizzazz, what now?"
"No more pictures." Pizzazz said, her tone unusually serious and lacking it's normal petulance. "Jetta coulda been killed...any of us coulda been killed."
"She said..." Roxy began, but Pizzazz sent her a glare.
"She said she didn't want to do any more pictures." she said, her expression warning Roxy against contradicting her. "And nor do I. We do the interview and then we blow this dump. Got it?"
"That's my thought too." Eric nodded "And legally...shall I stick the lawyers on the case?"
"No. Let it go for now." Pizzazz replied. "We don't want bad publicity, remember?"
"Yeah, true." Eric sighed. "Is Jetta okay? You girls have a big concert in a day or two."
"She's fine. Just gone for a drink of water or something." Pizzazz nodded. "She's not soft, Eric...she's no wimpy Hologram, you know."
"Thank goodness. I could not deal with a bunch of hysterical women." Eric said dryly. "I'll go speak to the magazine's people, tell them what the deal is."
Once he was gone, Roxy turned confused eyes on Pizzazz.
"So why didn't you tell him what Jetta said?" she demanded.
"Because, dumb brain, we haven't any proof and we can't afford the bad publicity!" Pizzazz snapped. "So keep your mouth shut, all right? We don't know anyone did try and hurt her...she's just creeped out, that's all."
"You think she's wrong?"
"I think she'd better be wrong." Pizzazz replied. "Because that's the last kind of trouble we need right now!"
In the peace and quiet of the cafeteria, Jetta took a tentative sip of water, setting the cup down on the table.
"You sure you're okay? You're white as a sheet, Jetta!" Stormer looked concerned.
"I'm great, considerin' someone tried to mash my brains with a stage light." The old sarcastic irony was back in her companion's tone, and the synth player was glad to hear it.
"You don't know that they did. It could be an accident." she chided.
"Maybe. But I doubt it somehow." Jetta shrugged. "Ah well. Who knows, huh? Lot of weird people in the world. Maybe some nut thought it'd make good publicity or somethin', beats me. Anyway, I'm all right now, Stormer. Shook me up a bit, is all. I'm fine, really I am...you don't 'ave to fuss."
"Well, if you're sure." Stormer shrugged. "But to be honest I won't be happy till we're well away from here."
Jetta grimaced.
"If I'm honest, love, neither will I." she said grimly.
 
 

PART ONE: SHEILA
Chapter One: Life in London
Chapter Two: The Saxophone
Chapter Three: A Friend In Need
Chapter Four: Never Again...

PART TWO: A DESIGNING WOMAN
Chapter Five: Sheila's Decision
Chapter Six: A Band In Crisis
Chapter Seven: First Night
Chapter Eight: Making It Happen

PART THREE: BACK IN THE CITY
Chapter Nine: The Misfits In London
Chapter Ten: On Every Screen...
Chapter Eleven: A Musical Reunion
Chapter Twelve: Jealousy
Chapter Thirteen: An Old Acquaintance
Chapter Fourteen: Doing London
Chapter Fifteen: Sabotage!
Chapter Sixteen: The Final Straw
Chapter Seventeen: Opening Night
Chapter Eighteen: Jetta

(The Misfits and Holograms and other animated Jem characters are copyrighted to Hasbro Inc. All characters who do not appear in Jem episodes are my own creation. This story is copyrighted to E.A Woolley (2001)