TT 33 - Dave has a Plan.

If Michael Glebe, who is only now beginning to question his anglican upbringing, finds some of the Christmas stalls in St Maggies contemptibly familiar, Dave Gill, after a life-time of biblically proportioned sin, finds the whole thing not just charming but positively exotic. He has stopped at the home-made cake stall with his youngest daughter Jemima, who is 6, and his son from his first marriage, Xag, who is 39. Xag's own son, Octavian, is strapped to his chest in a high-tec rig that allows the baby to look outwards, his arms raised at his side as though he's enjoying the view from the helm of the Titanic. The knot of curious villagers who are now loitering in front of the stall to eavesdrop on their local rock-guitarist, are surprised to find that the recent subject of Hot Riff's 'Senior-Hitizens of Rock' feature is discussing the relative merits of Dundee and Fruit Cake.

"What would you like, darling?" Dave asks Jemima.
Jemima, who is wearing stripey tights, a fairy costume, and a $300 cardigan from Wooky-Wah of Greenwich village, holds Dave's hand and surveys the goods laid out before her on doily-covered paper-plates.
"I think we should have these ones, Daddy." She points at a plate of Joyce Kettle's parkin.
"You like the look of those do you babe?" Dave says, delighted. "My old gran used to make them."
"The one that lived in that funny white hut with bits of wood on the front?" Says Jemima, looking up at him with her striking pale green eyes.
"In the bungalow, yeah. How d'you remember that?" Dave says, impressed. He only showed Jemima the photograph once, when she was about four.
Jemima shrugs and plays with her nephews toes.

Dave tucks the parkin into the pocket of his patchwork leather coat. As they turn to go he spots Reverend Carduggan chatting to a rather nerdy-looking young blond guy.
"Word up, Vic!" He ambles over with Jemima.
"David! Nice to see you here. And hello Jemima." Douglas leans forwards and puts his hands on his knees. "How are you?" Jemima holds onto Dave's hand and huddles into his body.
"I'm fine." She says, shyly, then recovering slightly, adds "Daddy bought me Parkin. That's what people used to eat in the olden-days."
"That's right, they did." Douglas smiles at her, then returns his attention to Dave.
"Um, David. This is Michael Glebe. Michael is a research student at the University."
"Ah, a scholar!" Says Dave, warmly, and shakes his hand. "Good to meet you, man."
Michael, suddenly confronted by the cool, slightly bleary self-assurance of the sixty-year-old rocker, retreats into his 'elegant young intellectual' posture.
"How do you do?" He smiles one-sidedly and lets his fringe flop over his forehead.
"I do bloody good, thanks." Says Dave, and gives out a laugh that sounds like water sucking on gravel.

"Hey Vic!" Dave puts his arm round Rev. Carduggan's shoulder, an expansive gesture that exceeds Douglas' capacity for physical spontaneity and forces him to clasp his hands self-consciously behind his back. "I've been thinking about our idea for a Sacred Rock Spectacle."
"Oh yes?" Says Douglas, who has no clue that they have shared an idea for a sacred rock spectacle.
"I met up with an old friend of mine, Jay Mitchell." Dave continues. "Great bloke. Used to do the special effects for our shows. Bloody wizard with the old electrics. He's a healer down in Dorset now - very spiritual guy." He nods earnestly and holds Douglas' eye. "I love him."
"Oh well that's nice." Says Douglas.
"Yeah." Dave gives Douglas' shoulders a squeeze. "But here's the really wierd thing, man. He says to me, Dave, I'm thinking of doing some kind of spiritual event. A festival, sort of thing, but with a really beautiful, spiritual kind of vibe, yeah?"
"Sounds interesting."
"And I'm like, that's amazing, cos I've been talking about exactly the same thing with a mate of mine."
"What a coincidence."
"Cos, you know, Vic, we don't need the money, right?"
"Well, no..." Douglas has lost track slightly.
"But it's such a bloody joy just bringing people together, through the music, you know?
"Indeed, music is a central part of worship."
"Oh well, yeah." Dave pulls his craggy, drug-addled features into something approximating pious. "Your lot got there, first, of course."
Douglas laughs modestly.

Dave can feel Jem starting to hang off his arm with boredom.
"Anyway, we'll have to talk about it some time."
"Absolutely." Says Douglas.
"Right then, angel." Dave looks at his daughter. "Let's go find Xag and Tavey. He looks at Michael, whose been standing by with a fixed grin on his face the whole time trying not to mind that Dave hasn't made eye-contact with him once. "Nice to meet you, man." He struts away, clicking his heels slightly on the ancient tomb slabs and whilstling an old blues number.
"Likewise." Says Michael Glebe.