Telstar: The Joe Meek Story Page #9

BLOWS RASPBERRY:

Sour grapes, innit?

You just don't want to lose half the business

because you know how big it's going to get.

I hope you're right, Joe.

I know I'm right, Wilfred.

- Geoff says the song was stolen from him.

- Let him sue.

I'm number one again and that's just the start.

Look after your men, Joe. They're the only thing looking after you.

Thanks for the advice, Major.

Now f*** off.

- What now, boss?

- Bigger and better things, Patrick.

Play it properly or I'll blow your f***ing head off.

I'm recording.

MUSIC STARTS:

What do we have here? These dire cash problems.

With the Telstar money frozen,

simply, there is not enough money coming in

to pay for the tax on the previous high earnings.

You have a strong heart.

And I sense that your guide is Rameses the Great.

The mightiest of Pharaohs!

Operating under pseudonyms.

Reneging on royalties to individuals.

Breaking union pay laws.

These are very serious matters!

And I see great doom.

Tax must be paid!

Her Majesty's Board of Trade.

I look down with terrible anger.

Seize your assets.

You work for us.

We own your very soul.

ECHOES:

- Please don't come back! Please don't come back!

- Joseph, it's OK.

It's all right. Sit down. Get your breath back.

You're all right. Here. Put your head between your legs.

- You're all right.

- F***ing nutter. Where did he get that from?

Heinz used to have it on the tour.

- Used to get a lot of gyp threats and that.

- Wanker.

- I'm going to be sick.

- You're all right, mate, it's over now.

Oh, I've f***ing pissed myself. Pissed me f***ing pants, man!

He's been under a lot of stress lately, with the bank,

the Board of Trade, the French courts...

- Good boy, Patrick, I can trust you.

- Sick wanker!

- I'm sorry, mate.

It's just tunes, mate. It's supposed to be a laugh.

- I've got to get some air.

- I think we all have.

Supposed to be fun.

He wouldn't have pulled a gun on Clem, would he?

Bunch of girls. I would have shot Clem.

And here, with the Beatles, is their famous manager, Mr Brian Epstein.

It's hard to believe...

Joe. Joe. I don't understand all that palaver.

I just don't understand why I don't get my rent.

I'm so sorry, Biddy.

I mean Violet.

Knives are out for me on all sides.

I am being ripped from pillar to post. People just...

I don't know what to do.

I don't have anything to give you.

Oh, here you go. You'll be fine.

Don't worry. As soon as the money comes through from Telstar,

you'll be rich as Solomon.

That French bastard has ruined my f***ing life.

I'm sorry, Violet.

- "Pardon my French," you should say.

- Yeah!

'Pushing Telstar from the Guinness book of records.

'And now with an MBE for services to Great Britain, it seems

'that the fans really do have something to scream about.'

Listen, I only do autographs at shows, all right?

- Where are you going with my car?

- Heinz Burt. Repossession order.

You f***ing what?

What's all this? Oi!

Don't look at me, I don't know!

- I want it back. You can't stick me with your f***ing debts.

- And the car!

- I don't know nothing.

- And what about the boat?

What about my boat?!

'Stop shouting. I know you're outside.'

I go down the jetty and there's nothing there.

All I'm left with is a handful of paper.

You know Larry Parnes, you know we've had a terrible rift.

Sort of.

So your secret chats behind my back

have done nothing but give him something to hurt me with.

I asked him for advice, that's all.

How dare you try and creep out of your contract after all I've done?

You put me on that shitty seaside tour and I am sick of it.

And when I get back, I've got f***ing nothing.

I've got no car, no boat, and no follow-up!

I've had a row with Geoff.

Well, he's a prat anyway.

What about them two that wrote for the Honeycombs? Yeah?

I liked all that.

'Really, Joe. You can't be serious.

'I mean, he is awful! You really must move on.'

- They're not right.

- Can't you write some?

No point, if you want to leave me.

No...

I just thought something funny was going on, that's all.

That's why I called Parnes.

It's Della, yeah.

Just gets a bit, you know, jealous. Silly, really.

- I don't mean to hurt people.

- I just want my car back.

- I'll see what I can do.

- What about my follow-up?

I just don't want to lose you.

I'm going now.

Things will get better, you'll see!

What happens to people like us, Patrick? Music people?

When all the hits have gone, when they've all been dried up.

What do we do when we can't do this any more?

Get proper jobs, I suppose.

I think we're just supposed to disappear.

'Dear Mr Gillard.

'As my lawyer, there are certain things

'I would like you to know about me.

'So that you are not influenced

'by things other people are saying about me.'

'I know there are some things I'm not good at - numbers, paperwork -

'but that don't make me bad.'

Excuse me.

'It seems that all the things I'm no good at is what people use to hurt me with,

'and all the things I am good at...don't matter.

'All my time is spent catching up.

'But every time I look up, everything's changed.

'And I have to catch up again.

'Why does everyone want to hurt me?

'Please...

'be my friend.

'Please, help me.'

Yours sincerely, Joe Meek.

Why are you having parties? You can't afford this.

If I can buy my way into those pirate ship top tens, I bloody well will.

You can't afford to pay bribes.

They're not bribes, they're investments.

- You can't afford them.

- Right, read the letter.

Go on, read the letter.

Go on, read the letter, read the letter.

"EMI Records, EMI House, W1.

"Dear Mr Meek, EMI re, Have I The Right, by The Honeycombs.

"Thank you for submitting your record. We feel that this record is of no commercial value.

"Yours sincerely, Sir Joseph Lockwood."

Well, that one sold half a million, so someone knows what they're doing.

DOOR SLAMS:

Now, now, sir.

Robert George Meek, we are officers of Her Majesty's Board of Trade and Commerce,

and after several requests for receipts of trade and income,

we are now authorised to seize...

Don't go in there! I don't have the books. Tony Shanks has the books and won't give 'em back.

- Open it!

- It's full of junk.

You put that back. You put that back!

It stinks in here.

Don't you ever think to open a window?

My lawyer, Mr Gilhead, he'll tell you.

No, don't do that. No, don't do that!

Don't...

Don't do that!

No, don't do that! Don't do that!

No, no...

RADIO CRACKLES:

Joe.

Wake up, Joe.

Joe, it's Patrick.

Oh, sorry, was I off again?

Miles away.

RADIO CONTINUES CRACKLING

You shouldn't take those.

- They help me think.

- And the others?

They stop me thinking.

You should see Dr Crisp about those trances.

The last thing I need is another doctor's bill.

You don't get them any more, silly.

I pinched a bit of steak from Mum's larder. We've got some spuds, I thought I'd do us some tea.

You're so very kind.

PHONE RINGS:

Leave it. Patrick...

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