Jake Arnott - The House of Rumour

What’s with this Female Pope?

Well, you know, there was supposed to be a woman pope. Sometime in the eleventh century. Pope Joan.

Wow.

Yeah. And you can imagine how Jenny loved that idea. She came up with this mad belief system of her own. She called it matrianarchy. It was all about the reversal of power. The Female Pope was like a direct assault on patriarchy, attacking it at its highest point. The world had to be turned upside down, she insisted, then we’d have utopia.

Sounds interesting.

And suddenly you feel angry. At Jenny. At yourself.

Oh, yes, it was interesting. There is a catch in your voice. It was interesting when she was picked up babbling incoherently to the ducks in Regent’s Park at four o’clock in the morning. It was interesting when I found her in a pool of her own vomit after she’d OD’ed in the squat.

Another pause.

It must have been hard for you.

Yeah.

And you realise now how much grief you still feel about Jenny. It was so clear at the time. Rational. You want to explain to Anna how it all made perfect sense. That after Jenny’s last suicide attempt failed she asked for your help. And you promised that you would help her do it properly. But you can’t tell Anna that. Not yet.

You were close to her? she asks you.

Yeah, you say with a smile, trying to make sense of the idea. But she was far away from me.

How do you mean?

I was always somewhere in the background. Her shadow, if you like.

And what is it like now?

What?

Now that she’s, you know—

Officially missing?

Yeah.

Well, Jenny never did anything completely officially. Not even her disappearing act.

Were you jealous of her?

Oh no. If anything it was the other way round.

You hope that Anna will be able to understand what happened. You need a bit of time to unravel it all for her. To unroll the scroll. You decide to tell her about Danny. Everybody wants to know about Danny Osiris.

It was Danny who helped her through the worst of those bad times, you say. He’d got himself a manager and a solo record contract. All that street credibility and bohemian chaos had never really appealed to him. He’d seen enough squalor as a kid. He wanted real success. And he knew that he needed Jenny to help him get there. They spent the first winter of the new decade writing what would become the Up Above, Down Below album. Musically, Danny knew exactly what he was doing; I mean, the album sounds pretty middle of the road now but it was so, I don’t know, calculated. It’s the lyrics that make it special. They have a deep romantic melancholia that was way beyond him. And there’s a tone and vibration in his voice that he got from her. Before that it was all technique. She taught him how to sing like a man, the real sadness of that sound. He got something else as well. It’s hard to explain in any terms other than the metaphysical. This will sound slightly ridiculous.

Try me.

Danny needed someone to sell his soul to. See? I told you. When I say this, people think that I mean selling out, but that never bothered him. Danny was clever enough to know that there was going to be two types of eighties — you know, the squats, the riots, the warehouse parties, and then the yuppies, the big bang and selling off the family silver. And he was sharp enough to know it was going to be a one-horse race. He knew all about compromise, but this was more than that. It was an energy he needed. A magical energy.

He believed in magic?

Oh, they both did. Jenny always said she merely respected the Western esoteric tradition but there was plenty of ritual and hocus-pocus with those two. I mean, pop music is so tricky, so seemingly insubstantial. A good recording session is always a bit like a seance, you’re channelling something. And when it works it’s like casting a spell. Danny definitely needed Jenny’s energy. I mean, he was having his own problems with identity.

Really?

I suppose you want to know all about that.

No. Not really.

Oh, come on. The enigmatic Danny Osiris. The press are always speculating, you know: is he or isn’t he?

I’m not really interested in that, honestly.

Well, most people are. Of course Danny knew, when he became a big star, especially when he moved to LA, that the important thing was to keep a sense of mystique. America is essentially a puritan nation. Besides, the great artist who’s a little bit repressed, that’s always going to be more interesting than someone who’s completely open about themselves. It’s all about dreams, isn’t it? Hidden desires. Jenny always wanted more than that.

And what did happen to Jenny?

Oh, well, that is a mystery. But anyway, most people want to know about Danny. He’s the one that became the superstar, after all.

I’m more interested in Jenny.

Well, they parted company, her and Danny. Sometime in the mid-1980s. On Tottenham Court Road, as it happened. They were both walking past that Church of Scientology place, you know, where those disciples hustle outside and try to get you to go in for a free personality test. Well, they both went in. Just a laugh. Or so Jenny thought. Turns out Danny took their bullshit seriously. Signed up on the spot.

That was the end of it. Jenny thought it was all just too ridiculous, while Danny didn’t need Pirate Jenny any more. He didn’t need the Female Pope. He’d found a more established religion. Always had an instinct for the main chance, Danny, even when it came to the paranormal. And it turned out to be very useful for him in the long run. Especially when he got to LA. Fantastic for contacts in the business, and especially when he started getting acting work. And now with these rumours about Danny’s sexuality, Scientology’s been a kind of protective network. Anyway, back in 1987, Danny goes off to the States, and Jenny disappears somewhere else.

You really don’t know where she is?

Nope. That’s enough of Jenny for now. Let’s talk about Johnny. And Anna.

She smiles. And you have this happy feeling of anticipation. You can get to know her better. Then you’ll be able to tell her the whole story.

There is just one thing, though, she says.

What?

There’s someone else Jenny knew then that I’m really interested in.

Oh yeah? You feel a sudden stab of dread from somewhere. Who?

Vita Lampada.

Oh.

You try to keep calm, not to react, but she’s bound to see the panic in your eyes.

Vita, yeah, you mumble. Well, Jenny knew her, yes.

And you think: oh Christ, she already knows. So she knows all about what happened to Jenny. For all this time she’s been playing some sort of game with you. You force a laugh and try to make light of it all.

What do you want to know about that old tranny?

You try to smile but you know. She’s on to you.

She died in suspicious circumstances, says Anna.

So they say.

And Jenny was close to her near the end.

I don’t know about that.

Don’t you?

Anna’s curiosity has narrowed into an inquisitive squint.

I don’t understand, you protest.

She smiles and her face opens up once more.

Look, Johnny, she says with a sigh. I should have told you before. I’m doing a story on Vita Lampada.

I thought this was about the New Romantics.

That’s a part of it, of course. But it’s Vita’s story I’m interested in.

So you know what happened to Jenny.

No, I—

Come on, you knew all along. And I actually thought you were interested in me.

What?

I thought you wanted to get to know me. Instead you’ve just used me for your own purposes.

No. I really like you, Johnny.

I’m just part of your research, you mean. I suppose this has been a lot of fun, hasn’t it? Digging up the past. My past. But I do exist now, you know.