Playlist for a Broken Heart

by Cathy Hopkins

  ‘Switch that television off,’ said Aunt Karen to Jake, the eldest. Reluctantly he did as he was told then slumped back on the sofa. They’d obviously all been told to be there to greet us. Uncle Mike poured tea and Dad looked as miserable as I felt as we sat together on the other sofa in the room making weak attempts at conversation, though Mum looked happy to see her sister. I noticed that Uncle Mike had odd socks on, one blue, one grey. The room looked lived in, with games, DVDs, books, magazines and school-books on every surface.

  After fifteen minutes of catching up on each other’s latest news, Uncle Mike insisted on taking Dad down to the pub.

  ‘You look like you need a stiff drink, mate,’ he said to him and whisked Dad away, leaving Mum and I to my cousins, more tea and biscuits. The boys were sweet enough – Jake with his mother’s wavy hair was twelve and clearly going to be a heartbreaker; Joe, who was ten, was more shy than the others; and Simon, the youngest at seven, was full of energy and enthusiasm for our stay.

  ‘And are you going to stay here forever?’ he asked. ‘Mum said you’re homeless. Have you been sleeping on the streets in London? I have a tent you can borrow if you like.’

  ‘Shhh, Simon,’ said Aunt Karen. ‘They’re not homeless. They have us.’

  Mum looked at the floor during this exchange while I tried to gauge how my cousin, Tasmin was feeling. It was hard to tell because her face showed nothing but boredom. As Mum and Aunt Karen caught up with family gossip, the boys began to look restless and soon drifted away upstairs. Tasmin kept looking at her mother, who ignored her. I got the feeling that she’d been told to stay and be sociable, although she wasn’t making any effort to talk to me and I wasn’t in the mood for being chatty either. I felt shell-shocked at the speed with which my life had changed. In the last few weeks in London, even though the house was being packed up, it felt unreal. Now we’d done the drive and were sitting in Aunt Karen’s house, our suitcases in the hall, there was no more denying the reality and I felt overwhelmingly sad about the loss of life as I’d known it.

  Finally Aunt Karen took notice of the awkward silence. ‘Tasmin, can you show Paige where she’s going to be sleeping,’ she instructed.

  ‘Umpf,’ said Tasmin. Or some word like that. She got up and with a jerk of her chin indicated that I should follow her upstairs.

  ‘Shall I bring my bag?’ I asked.

  ‘Well I’m not carrying it up for you,’ said Tasmin. ‘I’m not a servant.’

  ‘Tasmin,’ said Aunt Karen. ‘Don’t be rude.’

  Tasmin looked pleadingly at her mum then back at me. ‘Well there’s nowhere for you to put stuff but you can bring it up, I guess.’

  ‘Tasmin, I told you to clear some space in the wardrobe and a couple of drawers,’ said Aunt Karen.

  ‘I tried, but where I am I supposed to put my things?’ asked Tasmin. ‘We’re short of space as it is in this house.’

  Aunt Karen glared at her but she shrugged and went up the stairs that led off the sitting room. I got my case from the narrow hallway then followed her up. I got the message loud and clear. She was no happier with the new arrangements than I was.

  On the first-floor landing, she pushed open a bedroom door. It had a sign on it in black letters. KEEP OUT ON PAIN OF DEATH. PRIVATE. Underneath was a skull-and-bones image. I went in after her. It was a small boxroom, painted pink, with a chest of drawers, wardrobe and full-length mirror which was surrounded by pages showing fashion shoots that had been cut out from magazines and Blu-Tacked to the wall. It smelt sweet and girlie – of strawberries and hairspray. There were clothes everywhere, on hangers behind the door, piled over the end of Tasmin’s bed, strewn on a chair behind the door. I saw that a campbed had been made up for me on the right of the room opposite hers on the left.

  ‘Home sweet home,’ said Tasmin. ‘Your five-star luxury accommodation.’

  ‘Look. I’m really sorry about this,’ I said. ‘It’s only for a while. We’ll be gone as soon as Dad sorts something.’

  Tasmin raised an eyebrow. ‘Yeah right,’ she said. ‘We’ll see. But as long as you’re here, there are some ground rules.’ She pointed to her bed then mine. ‘My side, your side. There’s room on a couple of hangers in the wardrobe but I suggest you keep most of your stuff in your case. And I don’t want you borrowing anything of mine, OK?’

  As if, I thought and nodded, then slung my bag on my bed.

  Tasmin didn’t hang around. She changed her trainers and five minutes later I heard the front door slam. I looked out the window to see her tottering out the gate and along the road. She didn’t look comfortable in the strappy high-heels she’d put on. I thought about calling Allegra, but to say what? ‘I’ve landed in Loserville, get me out of here.’ I didn’t want her feeling sorry for me. I decided to wait until things were more settled, if ever.

  While the others were downstairs, I decided to have a look around the top floors. Although we’d visited Aunt Karen a few times when I was younger, they moved to this house only last year so I wasn’t familiar with the layout.

  There were four bedrooms. Aunt Karen’s and Uncle Mike’s had a double bed but, like Tasmin’s, there was stuff on every surface and a keyboard, guitar and amp in the corner of the room. The instruments must belong to Uncle Mike. He worked as a music teacher and used to be in a band when he was younger.

  The third tiny bedroom, which had clearly been used as a study, was the tidiest of the rooms so far and had a futon on the floor, which I presumed was for Mum and Dad. There was no room on either side for even a chest of drawers, so God knows where they were going to put their stuff. I felt tears sting my eyes at the thought of them squashed in there on the fold-out bed. How different to their beautiful room back home with its marble en-suite bathroom that was three times the size of this tiny make-do room. But the house in Richmond wasn’t ‘back home’ any more, was it?

  I sniffed back my tears. I am not going to get upset over this, I told myself as I looked in the bathroom. It was simple enough; white with a wooden floor, a bath with shower and curtain in it. The loo was in a separate room next door. Thank heavens for that, I thought. It would have been awful if the loo had been in the bathroom, with the number of people living here. Up another narrow flight of stairs was the fourth and largest bedroom with bunk beds at one end and a single bed under the eaves at the other. Like the sitting room, there was stuff everywhere: books, toys, games and clothes all over the place. It smelt of unwashed socks. Must be the boys’ room, I thought as I closed the door.

  Going back down the stairs, I felt angry about our situation and sad at the same time. I didn’t know what to do with the feelings and they seemed to have locked inside of me, leaving me numb. I couldn’t be angry with Mum or Dad. I could see how hard this move had hit them and we’d always been told at school that to be miserable because things weren’t going your way was a waste of time. If times were tough, you could sink or swim. It was true. I could be miserable as hell but it wasn’t going to change things. I had no option but to swim, to make the best of it, and that’s exactly what I was going to do, Tasmin or no Tasmin, rotten luck or not.

  I went back onto the ground floor and saw Aunt Karen was looking at Mum with concern and holding her hand. On the coffee table in front of them was a bottle of wine and two glasses. I could tell from the way they were sitting close on the sofa that they were having a heart-to-heart. Not a time to interrupt, I thought and tiptoed into the kitchen. It wasn’t as bad as I’d expected and was a large light space, with a dining table to the right, next to glass doors that opened out to a terrace and small fenced-off garden. I could see Simon and Joe kicking about a football with a small dog trying to join in and barking at their heels. A cat came out from under the table and meowed pleadingly. I looked around for cat food, found a box of dry food and put some out. God, there’s nowhere to get away from anyone here, I thought as I wondered what to do with myself next. I’d had enough tea to last a lifetime so I decided to creep back upstairs and unpack what
I could.

  When I got back up there, I went over to look out of the window. I’d fallen asleep for the last half-hour of the journey down so hadn’t really noticed where we were or seen anything of Bath as we drove through. The weather had changed since we’d arrived and it was grey and dismal. I noticed a sudden movement below to my right. Someone was on the path leading out of the house next door. I drew back so that I couldn’t be seen. A tall slim boy with tousled brown hair who looked about seventeen or eighteen was walking a blonde girl out to the road.

  At the gate, they stopped, then after saying something, she wrapped her arms around him and they kissed goodbye. She seemed reluctant to leave and, after a while, he pulled back, looked at his watch then playfully pushed her away. She pouted as if she didn’t want to leave, so he kissed her again, briefly this time, then said something. I couldn’t hear, but from his body language, it looked like he was telling her he had things to do, had to go. She finally went on her way and the boy disappeared back into his house. I watched the girl walk off down the street and soon she disappeared too. I was about to turn back when I noticed that the boy had reappeared.

  He crept along the path back to the street and checked that the girl had gone. Then he waved at someone coming towards him. Hmm, he’s cute-looking, I thought as I watched. At first I thought the girl was returning but, when I looked closer, I saw that it was a different girl. This one had long titian-coloured hair. Her face lit up when she got closer to the boy, who was also grinning at her. They put their arms around each other and went for a passionate snog.

  When they pulled back, he took her by the hand to go inside his house. I noticed that he checked the road again and, I couldn’t help it, I leant forward to see if girl number one might be returning. My movement must have caught the boy’s eye because he suddenly glanced up at the window. I quickly drew back and hoped he hadn’t seen me. When I peeked back, seconds later, there was no sign of him or the girl. Hmm, interesting, I thought. He might be cute but he’s clearly a love rat and two-timing those girls.

  I went back to looking at the landscape in front of me. In London, we had a stunning view of trees and the river Thames winding its way towards London. Here, the land was flat, a row of semi-detached houses opposite. I vaguely remembered from visits when I was little that Bath had hills around it. Maybe that was somewhere else, I told myself. My main memory of here when I was small was of playing in a park with swings and slides, but it was so long ago I can’t remember too much about that either apart from the fact that Tasmin was sweet back then.

  An ambulance raced by, sirens blaring. Mum had said something about Aunt Karen’s house being near the hospital so that must be where it was headed. I turned away from the window, went and lay on my bed and looked around Tasmin’s room. How have I landed here? I asked myself as I took in the scarves hanging on the wardrobe handle, the make-up, nail polish and hair straighteners cluttering the space in front of the mirror on the chest of drawers. This is so clearly someone else’s room, someone I don’t know that well any more. I don’t belong here. No wonder Tasmin stomped out.

  I got up, unpacked a few things and looked for somewhere to put them. There didn’t seem to be any room anywhere so I put them back in my case and shoved it at the bottom of the bed.

  A moment later, Mum came up and sat opposite me on Tasmin’s bed. ‘You OK?’

  ‘She hates me,’ I said.

  ‘No she doesn’t. She’s a headstrong girl, always was, and if you see it from her point of view, she’s just lost her privacy.’

  I indicated the room with my hands. ‘Duh.’

  ‘I know, you have too.’ She looked around the room and sighed. ‘We won’t be here long, I promise you that. I mean, it’s a perfectly nice house and everything . . .’

  ‘But not what we’re used to,’ I finished for her. ‘Let’s run away and get a room in a five-star hotel. There must be loads in Bath.’

  ‘There are a few,’ Mum replied, then she smiled wickedly. ‘It’s very tempting isn’t it? And to think, only a few months ago, we’d have booked in without batting an eyelid.’

  ‘I feel like we’ve landed in a parallel universe,’ I said.

  ‘I know. We have, my love, we have,’ said Mum.

  Dad and Uncle Mike had arrived back at eight with flushed red cheeks and reeking of beer. They were both snoring on the sofa half an hour later, much to the amusement of Jake, Joe and Simon. Jake tried to put a piece of rolled-up paper up his dad’s nose until Aunt Karen saw what he was doing and told him to leave him alone.

  Tasmin didn’t come home at all.

  ‘Having a sleepover with a friend,’ Aunt Karen explained as she made us all hot chocolates later that night before bed.

  Can’t say I blame her, I thought as I manoeuvred into a corner of the sofa next to Simon and Jake. I might have done the same if some alien had landed in the corner of my bedroom.

  Later, I checked my Facebook page and there were loads of messages from friends back in London, wishing me luck and telling me to stay in touch. Already it seemed a million miles away. I did a search to find Alex Taylor’s page. I just wanted to see his photo and remember the way he’d looked at me the last time I saw him. We weren’t Facebook friends, and my finger hovered over the Add Friend link but I didn’t. He’d probably forgotten all about me and, anyway, now some other Juliet was getting to look into his eyes and snog him in rehearsals.

  I checked my mobile next. There were seven messages from Allegra getting increasingly insistent that I call her. She seemed a million miles away too and the thought of not seeing her every day made me feel desolate. I switched the phone off without replying. I was grateful that Tasmin wasn’t coming back so I had at least one night alone in the perfumed, pink bedroom. There would be no one to hear me sob into my pillow.

  Chapter Six

  I woke to find the cat curled up on my bed. On seeing me wake, it got up, stretched, then came to nuzzle my nose. I noticed it was wearing a collar with an identity medal. Snowy, it said, which struck me as funny because the cat was black. It was comforting to have it purring softly in my ear.

  I hadn’t slept well. The pillows were lumpy and the duvet too heavy for the spring weather. Back home, Mum had always bought Egyptian cotton for our beds, with pillows and duvets made from Hungarian goose feathers, which were as light as clouds. They’d gone in storage with the rest of our things, but maybe Mum could retrieve the bed linen at least. But that would probably make us look ungrateful or snobbish, I thought as I lay there and stroked Snowy. Maybe not such a good idea.

  There was a knock on the door. ‘You decent?’ called Aunt Karen.

  ‘Yes,’ I called back and the door opened and she came in. ‘Is the cat a boy or girl?’

  ‘Girl. She’s a bit friendlier than Tasmin, hey? I am sorry about her behaviour – Tasmin’s, that is, not the cat’s!’ she said. ‘She’s a good girl at heart and she’ll come round. She’s just a bit put out at having her space invaded.’ She looked around the room. ‘Usually no one’s allowed in here. It’s her very private hiding place from the rest of us.’

  ‘Will she be back today?’

  ‘She better had be. It’s school tomorrow. Talking of which, I’m going to show your mum more of the local area so she can get her bearings – your school, the local shops and so on. Want to come?’

  I shook my head. I felt a need to spend the morning on my laptop and Facebook seeing what my friends back home were up to, and I had to reply to Allegra. I couldn’t avoid her forever. She’d sent another text this morning. Task of the day, it read. Find 4 fit boys. Report back. Send photos on iPhone. Typical Allegra. She probably thought that would cheer me up, but even if I did find any attractive boys, it would only remind me that my chance with Alex had gone with the rest of my old life, and if I did meet any new ones, I’d be back to being my usual tongue-tied self without Allegra there to break the ice. ‘Maybe later?’ I said to Aunt Karen.

  ‘OK. Help yourself to breakfast wh
en you’re up,’ she said. ‘There’s cereal and toast. Juice is in the fridge. And text us when you want to join us later.’ She was about to leave, then turned back. ‘I want you to make yourself at home, Paige, so please do. In the meantime, your mum needs a bit of a distraction so I might taking her shopping in town this afternoon too.’

  ‘OK, that will be good,’ I lied. Not that Mum didn’t like shopping. She did. A lot. However, going round the shops might just rub it in that another aspect of our new life was that she could look but no longer buy what she wanted. ‘Is Dad up?’

  Aunt Karen nodded. ‘Ages ago. Mike’s taken him out in the car to help him get to know the area better and I think they’re going to check out a few letting agencies too – see what’s available, how much and so on. When you’re ready to join your mum and me, turn left out of the house and keep going to the main road, then cross over, turn right and there’s a row of shops. They’re the nearest. We’ll be somewhere along there – text me and I’ll be more specific.’

  The kitchen was a total mess when I got downstairs. They obviously don’t believe in keeping things tidy, I thought as I began to move dirty dishes to the counter above the dishwasher. There were plates with half-eaten pieces of toast, jam jars with their lids off, cereal boxes, a milk spill. By the dining table was a shelving unit with just about every cereal on the market: porridge, muesli, Weetabix, Shredded Wheat, Cheerios, Kellogg’s Crunchy mix, Coco Pops. Something for everyone, I thought as I began to stack the dishwasher.

  After that, I put stuff away in cupboards then wiped the surfaces down. Having something to do and establishing some order made me feel slightly better. Maybe symbolic, I thought. My whole life seems out of control but tidying up this small chaotic corner makes me feel like I do have some say after all. I opened the back door and threw the uneaten toast out for the birds. The sun was shining and it felt good to feel its warmth on my face. To my right, I spotted Snowy who, on seeing me, rolled on her back and wriggled on the stone slabs of the patio. She was clearly enjoying the good weather too. As I stood in the garden, I noticed the boy from next door come out. I quickly darted back inside but I think he saw me before I could move out of sight.