“What about the barriers…?” I begin, but my words are drowned out as suddenly people start screaming.
I’ve never heard noise like it. There’s shrieking and people shouting and yelling the names of the band. All because a black minibus has driven up nearby.
The doors open. I can’t see exactly who it is from my frantic jumping, but it’s definitely not anyone I recognise. The crowd sags in disappointment as the man who exits waves at us, shouts “Sorry to disappoint you!” then flashes a pass to get inside the building.
But then another minibus pulls up. The doors slide open, the crowd starts screaming again, and this time, there’s no doubt it’s them. Around me, everyone’s going nuts. I jump up and down manically, trying to see through the forest of arms waving phones, posters, banners. I get a brief glimpse of a baseball hat, and what I think is the tip of Nate’s waving hand, and then we see them properly as they head up the steps into the building. I grab onto Millie’s arm as we jump and scream too, forgetting for a moment that we didn’t get to talk to them, because we’re so excited to catch a glimpse of the boys in real life.
It’s so weird to see them, these people who’ve only existed to us on TV screens or posters before. Millie’s screaming so hard I don’t think she’s even breathing properly – she’s got a humongous crush on Nate Devlin, the lead singer, and seeing him in the flesh is blowing her mind.
It’s The Drifting. The Drifting are standing right there in front of us!
It’s kind of weird how normal they look. Just like ordinary people. And a bit shorter than I’d imagined.
They turn and wave before they go inside, then the door swings shut and they’re gone.
Around us girls are crying and hugging their friends. The boys amongst them are trying to look like they’re way too cool for such hysteria, but I can tell they’re pretty excited by it all too.
“That. Was. Amazing,” Millie says, sighing happily.
Around us, a few members of the crowd are leaving, but most of them seem to be staying put. And then the excitement of what we’ve seen wears off and I remember exactly why we’re here. We need to talk to The Drifting. Or at least get a message to them.
For the next hour we stand in the cold, hoping that the crowd is going to disperse. But no luck.
“I’ve just had a text from Jamie, they didn’t manage to get through on the phone-in. I’m going to have to do something drastic,” Millie says. “We’ll never get to them like this. I’m going to try and get down the front.”
Before I know what’s happening, Millie and her banner are shoving through everyone, leaving me standing helplessly at the back.
I wait for what feels like forever before the band come back out. This time they stay a little longer; I can’t see properly but I guess they’re signing autographs and posing for photos. I can only hope that Millie’s made it to the front.
The band eventually leaves and everyone starts to drift away. I scan the crowd, starting to get a bit nervous – after all, right now I’m currently stuck all by myself in the middle of London. And that’s a teensy bit scary.
Eventually I see Millie’s bright red jacket and sag with relief.
“Did you manage to speak to them?”
Millie shakes her head. “’Fraid not.”
My heart sinks.
“I’m sorry,” Millie says, giving me a big hug.
“It’s okay,” I say quietly. “At least you tried.”
“Those girls at the front were hardcore. Not surrendering their spaces for anything or anyone. But I did pretend to feel faint to get the attention of one of those minder guys, and gave him my letter. He said he’d give it to the band for me… if we wait until everyone’s gone we can ask if he did it or not. Mum’s not coming back for another twenty minutes.”
Soon we’re the only two left standing in front of the building, and the minders are dismantling the barriers.
“I gave the letter to that guy,” Millie says, pointing. She runs over.
The man looks up. “The band have left,” he says shortly. “And no, I can’t get you their phone numbers or their email addresses. I work for the radio station, not The Drifting.”
“I gave you a letter for the band,” Millie says. “It was in a red envelope. Did you manage to give it to them? You said you would…”
The man reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a bundle of letters, pictures and postcards. Millie’s red envelope is easy to spot amongst them.
“But you said…” Millie’s voice trailed off.
“I say whatever I have to, to keep things under control,” the man says. “I get given all kinds of junk.” He turns and throws the handful of papers into the bin. Millie’s letter disappears with them. “Sorry,” he says, shrugging.
That’s it then. Our last chance, blown.
The Drifting won’t be coming to our school. It’s time to accept that I’m finished at Collinsbrooke.
Game over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Everyone ready?” Mum says chirpily.
“Yes!” Harry squeals, running down the stairs at top speed, phone in one hand, videoing as she goes.
I wish I could be as excited as Harry about Bonfire Night. But to be honest, the last thing I feel like doing right now is celebrating anything.
Maybe it’s time I started looking into boarding schools in Timbuktu, or something. I bet they’ve never even heard of The Drifting there.
“Where’s your dad?” Mum asks.
I shrug. “Shed, probably.”
Mum shakes her head. “Honestly, he’s never out of there these days. I thought he’d miss the TV, but apparently not. Can you go and get him please, Suzy? Tell him we’re ready to go.”
Outside, fireworks are already exploding in the sky, even though it’s still pretty early.
I’ve put my hand out to pull open the shed door, when I hear Dad inside, speaking softly to someone.
“There, there, it’s fine, it’s nothing to worry about…”
Eh? Who’s he talking to? Especially in that voice. I hesitate. All sorts of things are going through my mind. Dad’s not in there with another woman, is he? Oh God. My stomach’s actually churning at the thought. Too gross for words. And what about Mum? Oh, poor Mum, busy planning him a surprise party, roping us all in to do things for him when he’s off canoodling with someone else. What if they get divorced? Aaaargh, this is horrible!
I take a deep breath. Rein it in, Suze. You’re getting totally carried away.
But even so, I’m still not charging in there. Just in case.
I go round the side of the shed and cup my hand to the glass, peering inside. Then a firework lights up the sky above me in a shower of pink and I get a better view. I can’t see anyone apart from Dad. So who was he talking to then? Is he on the phone to someone? It doesn’t look like it…
Dad glances up at the window and jumps out of his skin.
“Aaaaaargh! Who’s that?” he yells, leaping up from his chair. There’s a horrified yowling noise.
I rush to the door and charge in. “It’s me!”
Dad clasps his hand over his chest in shock. “You almost gave me a heart attack. What on earth are you doing, sneaking around?”
“I, um… I heard you talking to someone. I was trying to see who it was.”
Dad looks sheepish. “Oh. That.”
“So who was it?”
Dad clears his throat. “Um. It was the, er, dog.”
“The dog?”
I’m seriously confused.
“Come here, boy,” Dad says, making a clicking noise.
Out of the corner of the shed, tummy so close to the ground he’s practically belly-crawling, comes Crystal Fairybelle. Dad picks him up and cuddles him close, stroking his head affectionately.
“Er, what’s going on with you and Crystal?” I ask. “You two are always together these days. I didn’t think you liked him?”
Dad immediately puts his hands over Crystal’s
ears. “Don’t say that,” he hisses. “The dog was scared, weren’t you?”
Dad holds Crystal up in the air, and Crystal licks at his nose affectionately. “The fireworks were terrifying him. I was only trying to make him feel better. Us boys have got to stick together, haven’t we?”
Who is this man, and what’s he done with my father?
“What did you want, anyway?” Dad asks, still stroking Crystal, who’s wriggling with delight.
“Um, Mum says we’re leaving soon for Amber’s.”
At the mention of Amber’s name, Crystal Fairybelle pricks up his ears and starts whining, struggling frantically to escape Dad’s clutches.
“Whoa, whoa!” Dad says, putting him down onto the floor, where Crystal runs and starts scratching at the door to be let out. As soon as it’s opened, he races off towards the house.
“I think the fireworks have really unsettled him,” Dad says, following me towards the back door where Crystal’s now sitting whining. I’m about to turn the handle when Dad puts his hand on my shoulder.
“Um, there’s something I wanted to ask you,” he says. “It’s about your mum… she is okay, isn’t she?”
“Why are you asking me this again?” I say, slightly defensive. I don’t want to accidentally give anything away. There’s no way he can find out about the surprise birthday party now. Not after all the work we’ve done. Mum will go mad!
“It’s just she’s seemed, I don’t know, very distant lately. I’m a bit worried about her. Has she said anything?”
“She seems absolutely fine to me,” I say.
“Right. Maybe it’s only me she’s being weird around then.”
“Maybe!” I say brightly, and open the door.
“There you are,” Mum says, shoving her purse into her handbag as we come into the kitchen. “Were you in the shed again?”
“He was hanging out with Crystal,” I say, ignoring Dad’s ferocious scowl.
“I thought you hated that dog,” Mum says.
“That’s exactly what I said,” I say, grabbing my coat.
“I wasn’t hanging out with Crystal,” Dad protests, as Harry walks in.
“Don’t you hate the dog?” Harry says.
“Will everyone stop saying that!” Dad shouts. “I was in the shed. Crystal was in the shed. Crystal got scared by the fireworks and I picked him up, trying to make him feel better. That’s all!”
“Seemed like more than that to me,” I say, deliberately stirring. It’s proper funny how wound up Dad’s getting by all of this.
“Right, are we all ready?” Mum says, jangling the car keys. “Let’s go… We need to stop at the shop on the way to pick up some sparklers. Harry, put Hagrid back in his cage, please.”
“Aww, I wanted to show Amber and Mark a new magic trick I’ve been practising,” Harry says.
“You know how Amber feels about Hagrid being around her babies,” Mum says. “Put him back, quick as you can, please. And you’re not coming, either.” Mum directs the last comment at Crystal Fairybelle, who’s still sitting hopefully in front of the door.
The dog stares up at her mournfully.
“I mean it. You’re not coming.”
Crystal turns his gaze to Dad.
“No can do, Sonny Jim,” Dad says. “Off to bed.”
Crystal actually sighs, and then skulks away, passing Harry on the way back into the hall.
“Are we finally ready?” Mum says.
I’m about to shut the door behind us when the phone starts ringing.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, who’s that?” Mum says.
“Leave it,” Dad says, but Harry’s already run back to pick it up.
“It’s Angie, from Aunt Loon’s nursing home,” she tells us.
“Stop calling her that,” Mum hisses, picking up the phone.
As we wait around it’s clear from Mum’s end of the conversation that we’re going to be doing a detour via the nursing home to visit Aunt Loon. Ugh. That woman’s a nightmare. Annoyingly Mum feels really responsible for her as she’s practically the only relly left in her family. Aunt Loon rings – or rather, gets her helper to ring – all the time, complaining about something or other. And people say teenagers are high-maintenance – they’ve got nothing on stroppy old ladies.
“I promised Aunt Lou some magazines,” Mum says when she gets off the phone. “I meant to drop them in earlier, but didn’t do it because I got held up at work. Apparently she’s kicking off, you know what she’s like. We’ll have to pop in. Poor Angie sounds terribly upset.”
“Ugh, that woman,” Dad says, rolling his eyes. “She terrorises those carers.”
“I know, I know, she’s impossible,” Mum says. “But she’s old, and I don’t want her to have another bad night. I’ll drop these bits in, it won’t take long, then once she’s calmed down we can go on to Amber’s.”
“Okay, okay, fine,” Dad says. “But we’re already running pretty late.”
“Well, at least it’ll give them a chance to get supper ready,” Mum says. “Guaranteed they’ll be running later than us.”
So we stop at the nursing home. Mum dashes in with the magazines, and is inside forever, finally returning to the car looking flustered.
“Sorry, she insisted on looking through them with me, telling me she’d missed me and that she hadn’t seen me in such a long time,” Mum explains, clipping in her seatbelt.
“You shouldn’t let her guilt-trip you like that,” Dad says, as he pulls out of the car park.
When we finally arrive at Amber and Mark’s house, over an hour later than we said that we’d be there, we ring the doorbell and stand outside for ages waiting.
“Aren’t they in?” Dad says, frowning. He reaches forward and presses the bell again.
Then, suddenly, the door flies open and Amber’s standing in front of us.
“Shhhhh!” she hisses, flapping her hands wildly.
I hardly recognise her, she looks so awful.
She’s wearing slobby joggers and a T-shirt that’s covered in what can only be baby puke. Her hair has been scragged back in a clip, strands falling all over the place, and there are huge bags under her eyes. And she’s not wearing any make-up. I don’t remember ever seeing her without mascara and lippy before.
“What are you all doing here?” Amber says.
“Er, you invited us over for supper?” Mum says. “I’m sorry we’re so late. Are you all right? You look… um…”
“Rough as a badger’s bottom,” Harry suggests helpfully.
Amber makes a face, and then sees the phone Harry’s holding up. “Are you trying to take a photo?” she shrieks, grabbing for the phone. “Don’t you dare!”
“I’m filming my life story,” Harry says, ducking out of the way.
“Stop it,” Amber says, turning to Mum. “Make her stop!”
“Put the phone away, please!” Mum says. “I mean it,” she adds firmly, seeing that Harry’s about to protest.
“I didn’t think you were coming until tomorrow,” Amber says. She huffs a piece of hair out of her eyes.
“We did say Bonfire Night,” Mum says.
“Isn’t Bonfire Night tomorrow?”
A huge rocket goes off behind me and explodes in the sky with an enormous bang. And then from inside the house comes a furious crying.
Amber’s shoulders slump. “Oh God, they’re awake again.”
“Can we come in?” Dad says.
Amber moves aside and we all shuffle through the tiny stairwell, past the buggy and a teetering tower of unpacked cardboard boxes into the lounge.
It’s nice here. Or at least it would be, if it wasn’t such a tip. There’s stuff chucked everywhere. There are more cardboard box towers in here; it doesn’t look like much has been unpacked. There are also baby clothes, muslins, bottles, nappies, changing equipment, toys and half-drunk mugs of herbal tea all over the place.
Dad’s tripped over the baby gym when Mark emerges from the kitchen looking seriously fr
azzled. He’s holding Uni, who’s screaming at the top of her voice. She’s usually the quiet one.
Mum rushes over. “Shall I take her?”
Mark hands her over gratefully. “Thanks. We didn’t know you were coming tonight. Are you just passing through?”
“You invited us for dinner,” Mum says. “It’s Bonfire Night, remember?”
Mark slaps his forehead with the palm of his hand. “We totally forgot. I’m so sorry. Things have been a bit fraught round here today.”
“So we see,” Dad says, gazing around.
Mark collapses onto the sofa, putting his head in his hands.
Everyone looks at each other, not really knowing what to do.
Well, this is all kinds of awkward.
Mum walks Uni back into the kitchen for a bit and eventually her cries die down, just in time for a high-pitched wail to come down the stairs.
“Oh lordy, that’s the other one. Why won’t they stop crying?” Mark says in despair. He takes a deep breath and pushes himself up to standing.
“I’ll go,” Dad says. On the way to the door he successfully avoids the play gym this time but stands on a stripy cow that lets out an indignant squeak. He reappears a few minutes later, holding a very grumpy Chichi.
“I’ll go and make a start on dinner,” Amber says. “Markymoo, why don’t you give me a hand?”
“Harry, set the table, please,” Mum asks.
Harry grumbles a bit but does as she’s told.
A few moments later, Amber’s calling us through.
There are a few spaghetti hoops on each plate, and that’s it. And I mean a few. Like, about eight. It looks like Amber’s split a single tin of hoops between the six of us.
“Is this it?” Dad says. His tummy growls loudly.
“You’re bringing in the toast, right?” Harry says.
“We don’t have a lot of food in,” Amber says apologetically. “I’ve been doing the banana and avocado diet this week. You can have some avocado with it, if you like?”
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