Telstar: The Joe Meek Story Page #10

PHONE CONTINUES RINGING

They want to take my boys away.

Who?

The Krays.

They saw The Tornadoes at the relief gig

and they want to manage them.

Joe...you should take Sir Joseph's offer.

Work at Abbey Road.

Let them worry about the bills and the tax.

You've had enough bad luck in this place.

You've proved your point. You should move on.

My real name is Robert.

Robert George Meek. RGM.

My nan named me Joe after her son.

Uncle Joe was killed in the Great War.

An officer...a boy

ordered him to take up a Maxim gun post

where he knew he'd be shot, and he did it and he was, shot.

Right through the face.

This officer, he ordered the next soldier to pull the body down

and take up the post. Well...the next soldier was...

..my father. And he did it.

Oh, he fought like mad.

But he was hit. Lucky though, he survived.

He had a piece of shrapnel lodged in his skull.

He had to convalesce for years, but it was a shock, you see, the shock,

the shock did the damage.

Then he met my mum.

But all our lives, he could never work for anyone else.

He could never take an order from anyone ever else again,

it would drive him mad.

T-T-T-The shrapnel would move in his skull

and he would smash up the village and spend all night screaming.

So he had to be his own boss, you see, he had to be.

Anyway, that's why I'm called Joe.

I can't work for someone else.

Everything I try to do is here.

I'll make tea.

BIRDS SING:

You, Joe, are a very special boy.

You have a little sparkle in you.

I used to look at you and I would be so glad to see you.

No matter how I felt, you would...lift me up.

Now I can't help seeing you bearing down on me with all those other bastards.

- I need the money you owe me.

- Please, go home, I don't owe you anything.

Bollocks.

You had hits all over the world. The Tornados and my solo stuff.

You cost me.

Every picture you had took, every record that got pressed and never sold cost me.

Half the time you were in the charts cost me, and I paid for that.

Well, if you'd done a better job, you'd have had more hits.

I did everything for you.

- I sweated blood for you.

- It weren't enough.

It didn't work.

I've got a job, Joe.

Jesus, a job, I'm painting f***ing buses!

You lied.

The Palladium this,

America that...

You f***in' lied!

I'm a mug I believed all your bullshit.

I loved you.

When I think about us, I'm actually sick.

I knew you was a bender. I had your number from the start.

- You're the mug.

- That's a lie.

- No, you're the f***ing liar!

- No, I know what I am.

Yeah, sick bent old crook who owes me money!

I...

SCREAMS AND SHOUTS

I've seen it before, Joe. I've seen it all before. Come on, then!

Yeah, you f***ing...old f***.

Yeah, yeah, I'll f***ing kill you.

I will f***ing murder ya!

I made you.

You're not supposed to be like this.

- It's not supposed to be like this.

- If I see you here again...

- You don't understand.

- ..I'll kill you.

Bender.

What are you talking about?

You want me...

So am I.

Astorina an Domini...inferni.

An Domini inferni...

Please, hear me.

Someone is stealing from me, and from my mind, my ideas.

I know I'm not myself, you see.

And I've tried, I've tried not thinking,

I've tried not speaking, but it always seems to find a way of...

f***ing having me, and it's taking me somewhere,

and I know you understand, so where does it go?

I wish someone loved me.

But you love someone, they just take from you.

They ruin you from inside, and everything else gets ruined.

It's easy to get famous and now my music's no good.

Please tell me what to do to make it stop. Please...

..make it stop!

I understand.

Joe?

Oh, God!

There's a couple of kids downstairs here to stack some tapes.

Tell them to f*** off.

We don't need you today, boys.

Get Mrs Shenton up here!

I don't know what it's about, Mrs Shenton.

- He just really wants to see you.

- Oh, he's been busy.

He recorded me singing last night.

It's always been a secret ambition of mine, singing.

I'm sure it'll sound lovely. What sort of mood's he in?

- Oh, he's in a pretty bad mood.

- Oh, well, I'll cheer him up.

Will you hold this for me? I don't like to smoke up there.

- I want a word with you.

- Oh, my God, is that real? Is it loaded?

Don't talk, answer the question.

- What question? You haven't asked a question.

- I'm not stupid.

Come on, Joe, you're really frightening me.

Who is he?

- Who's who?

- I've told you once, I'm not stupid!

If I was stupid, people wouldn't be able to ruin me.

Who is the man, our friend in the Crombie coat?

Him? He's just the agent.

Agent?

He's the estate agent.

We're not as young as we were, and you've been terrible with the rent.

- The business has been poor.

- Estate agents?

Give me the book, the rent book.

Let me find the book.

I think it's downstairs.

Why don't we just pop down and have a nice cup of tea.

Just give me the f***ing book!

Your lease is up at the end of the month.

The bank next door wants to expand.

We are retiring, it's nothing to do with the rent.

I didn't want to tell you like this. The shop is our nest egg.

- I said, didn't I...

- You let an estate agent in here.

Well, he had to see the place before he could make an offer.

Yeah, I knew something was wrong. I knew something.

I thought everyone was out to hurt me,

I thought all these people wanted to get me

I thought there was a curse.

I didn't know, I thought it might be Phil Spector or George Martin

or any of those thieving pigs, but no, no, it was you!

Just...you!

Selling my home when I was in it.

The place I built from nothing.

The place I lived and toiled in for six years,

the place that everyone else got fat off.

That made millions and millions and millions of people happy.

And you, you was trying to sell it.

You was trying to kill it.

It was you, Violet.

She's dead, Joe.

I think she's dead.

What have you done, Joe?

No, Joe, please, don't! Please, please!

- Stop, stop.

- No, Joe, please!

- It's all right, it's all right.

- Please!

What's the date?

- What?

- What's the date?

It's the 3rd, it's February the 3rd.

Bye, Patrick.

Joe! No!

No, no!

No, no, no!

No, no, no, no!

No, no!

If I got down on my knees

And I pleaded with you

Not to go, but to stay in my arms

Would you walk

Out the door

Like you did once before?

This time

Be different

Please stay

Don't go

If I call out your name like a prayer

Would you leave me alone in my fear

Knowing I

Need you so?

Would you still turn and go

This time

Be different

Please stay

Don't go

Please stay

I loved you before I even knew your name

I wanted to give you my heart

But when you came back

After leaving me one time

Oh, I knew, oh, how I knew

That the heartache would start

If I call out your name like a song

Which was written for you and you alone

Would you still

Hurt my pride

Baby, till

Till I cry

This time

Be different

Please stay

Don't go

Please stay

You know I'll always love you, darling

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