Chapter 36

From 1957 to 1959 aged 22 Tubby Hayes joined Ronnie Scott in co-leading a quintet, The Jazz Couriers. Subsequently, Hayes reformed his own quartet, and toured Germany with Kurt Edelhagen. Then in 1961 he was invited to play at the Half Note Club in New York; a new transatlantic Musicians' Union agreement meant that, in exchange, Zoot Sims played at Ronnie Scott's. While in America, Hayes recorded (Tubbs in NY) with Clark Terry, Eddie Costa, and Horace Parlan, and in 1962 he returned for another visit, this time recording “Return Visit” with James Moody, Roland Kirk, Walter Bishop Jr, Sam Jones, and Louis Hayes. He played at the Half Note again in 1964, and at the Boston Jazz Workshop the same year, and at Shelly Manne's Manne-Hole in Los Angeles in 1965.

                                                            **************

The Ronnie Scott Spot on The Moon is identical to the one in Frith Street in Soho London circa 1970, down to the under street toilets  painted a deep red. Beneath the main room down a very steep flight of stairs was an annex to the band room, with a small bar, and open to the public. Here the fans can meet with the musicians. The room is no bigger than a corridor with seats down one side and black and white photographs of musicians, mainly taken by David Redfern, on the walls. I am relaxing here with Jimmy Ducar, a talented and under rated trumpeter, when Doil walks in. He is on his own, or maybe Smith is prossed up to look like one of the punters, and hiding somewhere in the vicinity. Anyways I am not pleased to see him. He brings trouble, or bad news or both. He buys a beer from the Madeline Bell look-a-like behind the bar and comes over. I have another set to do and don’t want any hassle before it, but Doil has other plans. He is blocking the way to the band room at the back of this bar. I am resigned to my fate and give him my best Tubby smile.

He takes his time, enough time for Jimmy to excuse himself. Once we are alone, he speaks.

‘Don’t get too close to Veronica. We may not be able to save her next time.’

‘Tell her to stay away from the piano.’

‘You know what I mean Buddy Boy, don’t get emotionally involved.’

You know something when I think about it, Veronica is the one who is chasing. I don’t know where she lives, what her contact number is, even who she is. She has done all the running in the emotional stakes. I get a message through Brian, to see her in hospital, and off I go like a good lap dog, or she just turns up in my apartment and leans on my shoulder. Admittedly my heart does flips when I see her, but initially the thought that I could be close enough to her to count her war wounds, was wishing for the moon. Jimmy Deuchar returns and says it’s time for the second set. Doil moves aside and says he’ll be waiting.

The original Ronnie Scott club was in Gerrard Street, in London's Soho. It was a small basement where the patrons sat on odd dining chairs salvaged form anywhere and any one. To begin with, the plan was simply to provide a place where British jazz musicians could jam. Pete King his partner and fellow saxophonist and Ronnie quickly developed a reputation of bringing the best of British modern jazz musicians to the club. Soon, they would persuade the American federation of musicians to lift the blanket ban on American performers in the U.K., paving the way for many legendary performances. In 1965, Ronnie Scotts moved to its last location in Frith Street, only a short walk from the 'old place'. The first American to play at the club was Zoot Sims who had been exchanged for Tubby to play in NY.

The copy of the club I am playing in is the one on Frith Street, we start with a Jimmy Deuchar number called  “IPA Special” from an album Tubby cut with him called “Pub Crawling” The place is packed and people are standing around the walls behind the seating. To my left are banks of seats with dimly lit tables and in front, in the stalls, the tables are crammed with couples talking and ignoring the fantastic music we are making. In this the club is very authentic. We finish to scattered applause then launch into “Half a Sawbuck” and end the set with “Pedro’s Walk”, which starts with a Spanish influenced piano lead in at a gentle walk, then the base and finally me and Jimmy. It is a hoot. We have finally got the punters to listen and they shout for more, but they’ve had their chance to hear us and we want to get home.

We depart via the back of the stage and back to the band room. I carefully pack my sax away cleaning out the crook and mouthpiece. You would be surprised at the amount of grot that can accumulate in these bits.  I am loath to go into the bar knowing that Doil is in there. I don’t have anything against him apart from the fact that Doil is never good news. I think of doing a runner and leaving him to sweat. But he would only turn up at my apartment or worse at the agency. I say my goodbye’s to Jimmy or whoever is playing him. He did tell me his name and that he was from the other side of town but it didn’t go in as I had other things on my mind. He could certainly blow that horn though.

Doil is standing by the bar chatting to the Madeline Bell look-a-like. He buys me a beer and motions me over to the nearest table.

He is a big man. Broad shoulders and well over six foot. Handsome in an Irish way. He has been in a few fights, or maybe it is a swipe from a hurling stick that has bent his nose. I am still in my full Tubby Hayes form. Tubby as the name suggests and baby faced. I am wearing a sharp suit, made to measure by Maesh Golberg, it says on the label, over a white shirt and stripped tie. We make an odd couple he could be my father.

‘We own the agency’, he says. ‘That is how I know who you are and where you are gigging. The IGBI has its fingers in many pies, not all legit.’

‘I don’t know how high up in the IGBI you are, but can you keep Smith away from me. I don’t like him. He is shifty bastard.’

Doil laughs. He’s not in the IGBI he’s been attached to us from Navy Intelligence. I can’t tell him not to do anything. They have their own investigation into Super Nova activity and have come to the same conclusion. Fats is the key.’

‘You mean I am the key as Fats,’

‘Yup. You and Fats’s podgy fingers.’