A group of young men who decided in the early 1980’s to try and make an impact. And that too for one night only.
You can follow the lives of: The Sultans of Soul here, exclusively on AIM.

by Ravi Mangat
Writer

[Earlier chapters: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9]

Ramesh was once again standing outside Jas’s flat. Once again he was nervous. This time it wasn’t so much how Jas was going to react at seeing him on her doorstep that was worrying him, but more what her ex-boyfriend, Sanjay was going to do if he found him there. He didn’t have to wait long for the answer. Sanjay appeared, carrying a bunch of red roses that had been carefully wrapped and had a bright yellow bow around the packing.

Sanjay glared at Ramesh. It was the glare of a man who was both confused and angry at the same time. “What are you doing here?” he bellowed. “Didn’t you get my message?”

Ramesh took a big step towards him and spoke with an authority and determination that he had never experienced before. “I’m here to see Jas…and yes, I did get your message”.

“So if you got my message, you know that I don’t need you to do anything anymore. I’m here to get Jas back”.

“Get Jas back? She’s not some sort of property you can just claim like a piece of lost and found”.

Sanjay thought for a moment and then smiled, almost sinisterly. “So…the chicken man thinks he’s going to win my girl”.

“She’s not yours. And I’m not a chicken man”.

“Oh really. Well, as soon as I’ve finished with you, you’ll be stuffed like one”. Sanjay took a large step forward and stood over Ramesh.

Ashok was standing at the school gates watching his sister, Rupa walk out. She would normally run down the path and greet him excitedly. But not today. Not since that visit from Detective Harris had set some doubts in her mind. Was her brother really a thief? Wasn’t he the big brother that she had always looked up to and confided in? Ashok felt as
if he had betrayed her. Although he had pleaded his innocence at home, he knew that Rupa could sense his guilt. Even his mother, who had to this day tried to convince herself that her son was a law-abiding citizen, realised that he was skating on very thin ice.

Ashok had contemplated going to see ‘The Man’ but knew that would probably land him in further trouble, especially if the police were keeping an extra special watch on him. Rupa walked home in silence, save for the occasional yes or no answer. When they reached home, she went straight to her room and started her homework. She didn’t even bother to watch her favourite programme, Grange Hill.

He stood outside her room for about ten minutes and then knocked on the door. “Rupa, can I come in?”

There was no reply.

“Rupa?”

“If you want to”, came the unenthusiastic response.

Ashok walked slowly in and looked at Rupa. She glared back. It was the glare of someone who was confused and angry.

Bernie looked at his watch and saw that it was 4pm. It was going to be another four hours before he would see the guys again. What was he going to do? Malkit had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to ensure that the guys didn’t get their plan into motion. Bernie had other ideas. The night before had given him a flashback of his youth. It had taken him back to the time when he had really felt as if he belonged. What’s more, he thought he could actually help the guys in their quest to become entertainers.

The trouble was that he didn’t know what Malkit would do when he found out that Bernie was going to become the bands ally instead of their enemy. Malkit may decide to take care of matters himself, in which case the cat would be out of the bag and Bernie would be cast as the villain.

Bernie had been in many situations in his life that had tested him. He had been caught cheating with his best friend’s wife. He had been caught with drugs. He had been caught with his finger in the tills. Now…he was caught again. This time it felt different. This time it wasn’t so much that he was wrong…but the prospect of being found out as a liar. Although his intentions now were more pure, he couldn’t be sure how things would turn out
if the band found out that he had originally had an ulterior motive. He looked in the mirror and his eyes stared back at him. It was the stare of a man who was confused and angry.

Ashok had spent twenty minutes trying to explain to Rupa about himself. He hadn’t actually confessed to anything, but he had tried to explain that he wasn’t as much of a saint that she may have thought him to be. Rupa had listened without questioning anything. At the end, she looked at him and asked, “You are my brother though aren’t you?”

“Of course”, he replied.

“Good. I don’t want another brother. Even if you have done something wrong, you can stop can’t you? It’s not too late is it?”

“No…it’s not too late”.

“You know it’s not too late!” Sanjay was shouting from outside Jas’s flat. There was a torn yellow ribbon at his feet. Rose petals were littered along the lobby and there were obvious signs that a struggle had taken place. “Jas! Jas, let me in”.

After a few more seconds, he decided to give up and kicked the remains of the flowers. More petals sprinkled the air as he left.

Inside the flat, Ramesh was lying on the sofa while Jas was tending to his nosebleed.

“This is getting to be a bit of a regular thing isn’t it?” he said.

“Don’t worry”, Jas smiled. “I’m getting the carpet colour changed. I was thinking of blood type O…would that be about right?”

Ramesh smiled. “I wouldn’t be much use to you as a bodyguard would I”.

“Who says I want a bodyguard?”

She leaned closer to him and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

“So how did you ever get involved with a guy like him?” he asked.

“Don’t know. I guess I have a habit of attracting strange guys”.

It took a moment for the comment to register with him, before he smiled back at her. “I see I’m going to have to be careful what I say around you”.

They kissed again.

On the street below, Sanjay strode away brushing the dust off his trousers. He stared at the road ahead of him. There was no longer any confusion in his eyes…just anger.

————–
This serial is fictional and any similarity with existing groups or individuals is unintentional.
Ravi Mangat is contactable on: rav38man@yahoo.co.uk