Chapter Text
“I’m cold” Jimmy muttered and pulled his black hemp jacket closer around his slender body. It set a beautiful contrast to his silky, snow white hair and his soft, pale skin. Robert smiled as he joined the love of his life on the balcony railing, overlooking the breath-taking view across to the highest peaks of the high Atlas Mountains. The craggy valley below looked shady and deep. An eagle soared high above in the endless blue sky, letting out sharp cries every now and again which echoed through the shadows and up to the sunny heights above.
So many memories. Robert had forgotten how long the two of them had been staying in the little holiday cottage in the Atlas Mountains, with no other visitors than their food suppliers, since they had decided to join up once more and relive their colourful past together. Days and nights blended into each other as they had reflected on their childhoods, on the magical day that they had met. The day Jimmy realised that some angels are real, and that Robert was the brightest star he had ever encountered. Robert’s confusion about a growing feeling for his new guitarist and bandleader, a feeling he did not know he could ever develop for another man. And the sharp sudden propulsion to super-stardom with their incredible band, Led Zeppelin.
And here they were, old and marked. With adult children and growing grandchildren. They had lost each other, and yet, neither had ever been able to banish the other one from their heart.
“Well”, Robert said, “I know how to keep you warm!” Jimmy smiled instantly, a glint in his dark eyes: “you always did! My sun! Do you remember, the second time we went up to Bron Yr Aur? In November! We were mad! It was freezing!”
*
Three booming knocks shook the sturdy black wooden door of Jimmy’s boathouse. The three adults inside turned their heads sharply. Neither had expected any visitors.
Charlotte went pale: “oh shit, what if my parents have tracked me down?” Robert patted her arm comfortingly and Jimmy built himself up as high as he could, looking about as menacing as a butterfly as he proclaimed: “I won’t let anything happen to you, I’ll fight them if I have to!”
Since Charlotte had arrived at their home a few days ago, in a terrible state after having fled the convent her parents had put her in when they learned that she was expecting a child of a Rockstar, the three had soon accepted their unlikely little community and both Jimmy and Robert had done their best to make Charlotte welcome and looked after. Jimmy had called his private physician who had brought a kind midwife and they had found Charlotte in need of a few good meals but otherwise all well with her pregnancy. They had created a warm little bubble in the boathouse, keeping inside as much as possible whilst frost and ice covered the meadows outside and froze the edges of the river Thames.
Another three knocks, louder and more insistent. “Wait, I recognise that knocking…but what the hell is he doing here? Unannounced?” Jimmy wondered, but before the other two could ask, he had gone down the hallway and left them behind. Robert wrinkled his forehead. Yes, he had recognised it too. Only one man he knew had hands large and strong enough to knock like this. He turned to Charlotte: “Erm, would you mind maybe going upstairs?” she instantly looked terrified, but Robert added quickly: “nothing to be afraid of, hon, just…business, you see? We’ll need a little time to explain…” Charlotte looked confused but as she heard the front door open and a gust of icy air blasting into the cosy warm living room, she swiftly left and went upstairs.
“G, good to see you!” Robert exclaimed, as brightly as he could, with a wide but not entirely genuine grin on his large, friendly face. “Fucking good to see you too!” Led Zeppelin’s manager, Peter Grant, or G as everyone called him, thundered. He was so large that he filled the door frame as he entered the living room and so tall, he nearly hit his head. The frost seemed to cling to him, and he brought a plume of ice with him that made Robert shudder. Peter maneuvered himself to the nearest sofa and Jimmy groaned inwardly as his precious antique sunk dangerously under G’s mighty proportions. Jimmy and Robert looked at each other briefly. G could be really good fun and company when he was in a good mood. But he felt like a thunderstorm approaching with lightening striking any minute when he was not. And today, he seemed more than a mighty super-cell than he had for a long time.
“Uhm, would you like some tea?” Robert asked carefully, but G just glared at him. “Beer? Whiskey?”
“Just fucking sit down!” He thundered and Led Zeppelin’s frontmen simultaneously sank down unto the nearest armchairs as if they had been felled by an axe. “Right”, G cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “Right. Do you realise the pandemonium out there? I have to deal with it every bleeding day whilst you are all cuddled up here! Did you know that the third album was called ‘weak’? Oh, Led Zeppelin have lost their way and gone all soft and fucking floppy!” His large face took on an unpleasant shade of purple and his large moustache trembled. He quickly wiped his forehead. “I trust you two have been working hard on the next album! You better have! They’re after our heads if we don’t deliver…” Robert felt sudden anger raising inside himself. They were allowed a break every now and then. And he had followed the sales figures. Admittedly not as high as the last two albums but still beating most of their competition. “G, its been less than a month that the album was released! What exactly is your fucking problem?”
G rose up, surprisingly fast for such a large man, and walked straight up to Jimmy’s elegant old-fashioned telephone. “See that? Do you know what this is?” He lifted the receiver and pretended to take a call. “See? You lift it up! You hold it to your ear! Guess what, you dial a number and you can talk to someone! Cool, eh?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Oh yes, and best of all, sometimes, you don’t even need to find a number! They make that pleasant little bell sound! And all you have to do is lift the bloody receiver and say hello and…” he suddenly stopped himself. Put the receiver down and up again. Much calmer, and with genuine embarrassment in his voice, he said: “oh, um. I can’t hear anything…did you know that your phone line is down?”
Jimmy looked at Robert and they couldn’t help themselves, as they started to giggle. “And we thought it was just really nice and quiet and everyone wanted us to have a little break!” G scratched his nose. “Hm…sorry…I thought you were ignoring my calls. But didn’t you notice? I mean, surely you must have tried to make phone calls in the last three or four days?” Jimmy sighed. He moved closer to G but turned to Robert. “Could you get us those beers, please, love? We’ve got to tell him.” Robert nodded and once all three were seated, Jimmy and Robert took turns to tell G how Charlotte had turned up at their doorstep. “But you are easily conned my unworldly friends! She’s a fucking groupie! That baby could be just about anyone’s!” “No, it couldn’t G.” Jimmy sighed. “Charlotte isn’t as, well, wild as you think. Whilst we were together, she stuck by me. The gods know why, I was horrible to her, but still. She has a damn good heart. And I trust her. She is carrying my child and I’ll do anything to protect them. I want my child to have the best start in life!” G reached over and punched Jimmy’s shoulder in a friendly way, chuckling excitedly, in a way only G could. “Well, well, congratulations, haha! Still, music is calling! I’ve spoken to Bonzo and Jonesy. Time to get the four of you together and working again. Show the world that Led Zeppelin are the best, the fire and the flame!”
“You wanna get us in the studio?” Jimmy asked, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Truth be told, between the bad atmosphere between him and Robert after their last tour and the arrival of Charlotte, he had done very little work in his home studio and he knew that whilst they did have concepts and some great songs in the making, they were a long, long way from being properly recorded. And he knew that the cold and pressurised working environment of a studio wasn’t really conductive to their creativity.
“No” G replied, smirking. “Oh, are we going back to that big old mansion, Headly Grange?” Robert asked, suddenly feeling rather excited. He had quite enjoyed their stay in the old work house last June. “Nope” G said, and paused for dramatic effect. “I’m sending Bonzo, Jonesy, and you two up to Wales. No families. Just a few roadies and me but we’ll be staying in the next village.” Robert grinned as realisation dawned. And this time, his smile was genuine and excited. “Yep, Robert. I’m sending the four of you up to Bron yr Aur!”