Both Roads Lead to Home
Part 3

By David Conlin  

Nicky, Faron and Paddy at the Plaza, St HelensAfter the trauma of the break-up of Faron’s Flamingos, I thought that I was going to be at a loose end for a job, but within a very short time, I had been offered a new job with the Big Three, whose new line up was Faron, Paddy Chambers and Johnny Hutch. I must admit, at the time, I was so relieved at getting a new job so fast, that I never considered the somewhat undue haste at which Faron and Paddy had joined Hutch. It was not until much later that I realized that something had happened of which I had been totally unaware. 

I telephoned Joyce in Roby to tell her my news, and she informed me that Trevor and his girlfriend Pat were already at her house, so she had been made aware of the situation. It was a little strange, but I felt just a touch embarrassed telling Trevor about my new job, and I will admit, in retrospect, and even though I enjoyed the majority of my time with the Mojos, there have been times when I wished I had refused the offer and tried another road. But you know the old saying, ‘The past is a foreign country – they do things differently there’. 

Trevor went down south and I later heard that he was with a band called the Peddlars. We completely lost touch and I’m afraid I never saw him again until the night we celebrated the formation of the Merseycats just a few short years ago. On that night, we went to a restaurant called the Armadillo or some such in Liverpool. To my disappointment and chagrin Trevor didn’t recognize me when I was pointed out to him: you see, when we last saw each other, I was clean shaven and had a few early grey hairs; I was, I think, 22 years old. In that Liverpool restaurant, I had a beard and very white hair. Then again, Trevor had also grown a beard and a few grey hairs himself. 

Peter (Lee Curtis) was at the end of the table, and when the roast spuds finally got round to him, there was only one left. He broke into a solitary paraphrased chorus of Mash potato, singing, ‘Last potato yeah’. The meal was quite enjoyable: we renewed old acquaintances and chatted to people we met more often.

A lot of us went down to the Cavern after the meal: the new Cavern, that is, and we managed to get thrown out at about 2:30 in the morning. D’you know something, I don’t ever remember getting thrown out of the real Cavern in the sixties – not once. I took the picture on page 6 of the first episode of this story, of the Flamingos sitting on the stairs, that night. That was the first time all five of us had been together since the break-up of Faron’s Flamingos so, so long ago. 

Back way back when, after leaving the Big Three, I was asked to swell the numbers of the Mojos by one: as their new road manager and electrics bod. I was picked up at home by Spencer Mason, their manager, and taken to Liverpool airport, where I boarded a Starways aeroplane, (two propellers and as far as I know, no loo), my first time in an aeroplane, in fact, and flown down to sunny Lundun where I was picked up by a Rolls Royce, no less, and driven directly to Dartford, in Kent.

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