‘Sick in the head, more like,’ says another girl, looking angry.
‘What are you on about?’ says Nadine.
‘What’s the matter with Claudie?’ I ask.
‘She’s got this boyfriend, right? It was all over the papers last month. Some yobby football player not good enough to kiss her fingertips,’ says a third girl, pulling at her Claudie T-shirt in distress so that Claudie’s image lengthens into a comical grimace.
‘So? It’s not a crime to have a boyfriend. It’s Frankie Dobson, isn’t it? I think he’s pretty tasty myself,’ says Magda.
‘Oh right, so I suppose you think he’s just being all masterful now he’s told Claudie she has to quit singing,’ says the T-shirt girl.
‘She has to quit?’
‘Because he says so?’
‘But why?’
‘He went to her concert in Manchester last night and it was a big success. One of my friends was there and she phoned me up and told me all about it. The hall was packed out with fans, and Claudie sang all her most popular numbers, the really stirring stuff. Everyone cheered their heads off. This stupid Frankie couldn’t take it. He thought all the songs were an insult to him because lots of them are about independence and women not needing men, so he gave Claudie an ultimatum. If she didn’t pull out of her concert tour and stop singing all her very best songs he’d leave her.’
‘So why didn’t she tell him where to get off?’ says Magda.
‘Exactly! But astonishingly she said he meant so much to her that her career wasn’t anything without him.’
‘Claudie wouldn’t say that!’ I protest. ‘She’s a total feminist icon. It would go against absolutely everything she’s ever sung about.’
‘That’s what I thought – even though it was front-page news in the tabloids this morning. So we came along to the concert hoping it was all some stupid rumour, even a publicity stunt. But it’s true. The concert’s off. She’s pulled out the whole tour, just like he said.’
I still can’t believe it. We go to the concert hall to see for ourselves. There’s just little stickers on every Claudie poster saying ‘Cancelled due to illness’.
‘Perhaps she really is ill,’ I say, because Claudie is my heroine and I’m word perfect in every song and I’ve taken on board everything she’s ever said and I feel as if she’s deliberately let me down.
But when Magda goes to the ticket office to try to claim a refund the guy behind the desk confirms everything those other girls said.
‘You’ll have to write in for your refund. Claudie’s left us in the lurch and we haven’t got enough cash to give out to everyone. The girl’s crazy, wrecking her career for that Frankie. He can’t leave the girls alone. He’ll be off with some new trophy blonde before Claudie has time to turn round and then where will she be?’
‘How can she do this to herself?’ I say, practically in tears.
‘Cheer up, Ellie. We’ll find you someone else to go crazy about,’ says Magda.
‘What are we going to do now?’ says Nadine. ‘I want to listen to some music. There must be something else on somewhere.’
‘How about coming to listen to us?’
We all spin round. There’s a group of boys looking at us, reasonably hip guys, though one’s very Gothic, with long black hair and chunky silver jewellery. Nadine stares at him, dazzled.
‘So, like . . . you’re a band?’ Nadine says.
‘Sure.’
I’m not so sure.
‘Come on, Nadine,’ I say – but it’s a waste of breath. Magda’s smiling too, her head on one side.
‘A band, eh?’ she says. ‘What are you called?’
‘Well, we’ve gone through a lot of changes. We’re just this little indie band at the moment. We’ve toyed with the name Indie, because I’m Dave and he’s Ian and he’s Ewan so we’re almost there with our initials. I’m lead guitar, he’s bass, and Ewan’s the drummer. We just need to find some guy called Neville or Neil or something to be the lead singer.’ He looks at Nadine. ‘Or a girl, of course. Called Nadine.’
Yuck! I can’t believe his corny old chat-up line – but Nadine seems to be falling for it. She’s tossing her hair and looking up at him through her long eyelashes.
‘Are you really looking for a singer?’ she says.
‘Sure! So why don’t you come back to my place and have a little jam session with the band?’
‘I can’t sing!’ says Nadine.
Too right she can’t. I stand next to her in singing lessons so I should know.
‘I can sing OK,’ says Magda.
‘So you come too, Scarlet,’ says the fair guy, Ewan the drummer.
‘What’s your singing like then, babe?’ says Ian, the bass guitarist, looking at me.
I can’t stand guys who call you babe, like you’re the pig in that sweet little kids’ film. Ian looks a bit like a pig himself, with a snub snouty nose and a bit of a belly.
‘We’ve got to get home,’ I say firmly. ‘Come on, Magda. Come on, Nadine.’
Magda shrugs and waves at the guys – but Nadine is still staring awestruck at Gothic Dave.
‘I like your rings,’ she says, nodding at the big silver skulls.
‘Do you want to try one on?’ he says, offering it to her.
‘Wow! It’s wonderful. I’d give anything for this sort of jewellery,’ says Nadine.
‘I’ve got all sorts back home, crosses and stuff. Come and see. And we could try out your voice. You certainly look the part, doesn’t she, you guys?’
Nadine looks pleadingly at me. ‘Shall we, Ellie? Just for a little while?’
I shake my head at her, astonished.
‘Go on. Our van’s just round the corner.’
‘My van,’ says Ewan, as if he thinks we’ll be impressed. He looks hopefully at Magda. ‘Dave’s gaff is only ten minutes away. You’ll come, won’t you?’
Magda’s starting to see sense now. ‘Maybe not, fellows,’ she says. She links into my arm and jerks her head at Nadine. ‘Come on, Nad.’
Nadine looks at us. She looks at Dave. She nibbles her lip, hesitating. She looks down, her long hair falling over her face.
‘Nadine!’ I say.
‘You do what your mates tell you, do you, Nadine?’ says Dave, and he gently pushes her hair back so that he can see her face.
‘Not always,’ says Nadine, going pink. ‘I’ll come to your place then, Dave.’ She stares defiantly at Magda and me. ‘How about if I meet you back at the station at eleven, OK?’
We stare at her as if she’s gone completely crazy. Is she really serious? She’s willing to go off with these three complete strangers in a van???
‘Nadine, please,’ I hiss – but I know just how stubborn she can be. And she’s always been so mad about weird indie bands. I suppose this is like her dream come true. Only she can’t see that it could easily turn into a nightmare.
‘We can’t let her go off in this van on her own,’ Magda whispers to me. ‘She’s totally nuts. We’ll have to go with her to make sure she’s all right.’
‘Oh Mags, this is crazy.’
‘I agree! But if we can all stick together we should be OK. Well, sort of.’
‘Magda!’
‘It’s kind of a chance of a lifetime though, isn’t it? I mean, suppose they eventually make it big. And Nadine gets to be the lead singer. Or . . . or me.’
I don’t know what to do. They’ve both gone completely loopy. Nadine’s already walking off with Dave Skull and Magda’s smiling at Ewan drummer, asking him where his van is parked. I ignore Piggy Ian and slope after the others miserably.
The van is an awful old thing, really bashed-in and filthy dirty. Magda looks a bit put-out and even Nadine wavers. I grab her quickly.
‘Nadine, we can’t go in that van with them. We haven’t got a clue who they are,’ I hiss at her.
‘We do know who they are. They’re these guys in this band,’ says Nadine.
‘They’re probably making it
all up. And even if they have got a band they’ll never let you sing in it, idiot.’
‘I don’t see why not,’ Nadine says, looking hurt. ‘Anyway, I want to see all Dave’s stuff. Isn’t he fantastic? I’m crazy about him.’
‘You’ve only been talking to him two minutes!’
‘Look, Ellie, you were the one telling me I’d meet someone special soon! You predicted it!’
‘Yes, but I didn’t predict you’d let yourself get picked up by a complete stranger!’
‘You did. With Russell.’
‘That’s different. He’s different.’
‘Exactly. He’s a silly little schoolkid. These guys are amazing,’ says Nadine.
I don’t know how to get through to her. What little brain she has seems to have shrunk to pea-size, rattling round in her obstinate skull like the silver ones grinning on the Dave guy’s fingers. He’s got hold of Nadine now.
‘Come on, babe,’ he says, and he holds open the back door of the van for her.
She smiles up at him – and climbs inside.
Magda shakes her head up at me. ‘We’ll have to go too,’ she says.
‘I know. But it’s mad. We’re mad if we go.’
‘Come on, Scarlet! In you get,’ says Ewan, brushing his fair hair out of his eyes. I suppose he’s quite good-looking if you like that type. Magda’s starting to look like she does.
‘Maybe it’s time to live a little dangerously,’ she says, and she gets in the van too.
So I follow them and get in the van, though I know this is a BIG mistake.
Dave doesn’t live ten minutes away. Ewan drives for at least half an hour. I haven’t got a clue where we are. I can’t believe this is happening. Magda is reasonably OK because she’s sitting in the front of the van with Ewan and he’s got to keep at least one arm on the steering-wheel. But I’m in the back with Ian and Nadine and Dave.
Nadine and Dave start acting like a couple almost straight away. Nadine’s proving she’s no marble pillar. I don’t know where to look. I definitely don’t look at Ian.
He doesn’t seem very interested in me – and yet when I fall against him as Ewan rounds a corner too sharply he hangs on to me, trying to pull me close.
‘Don’t!’ I say, trying to wriggle away.
‘What’s up with you? I only want to be friendly,’ he says.
‘I don’t want to be friendly! I’m in a relationship already,’ I say primly.
‘So? I am too. Come on. Let’s get cosy, eh?’
‘No thanks!’
‘OK. Be like that. You’re just a silly little kid. Why can’t you be more like your mates? At least they’re having a bit of fun.’
What a pig! I imagine his snout rootling in the mud, his big pink pig-belly smeared all over.
Magda isn’t having fun anyway. She laughs at stuff Ewan says but then she looks suddenly outraged and flounces away from him, as he’s obviously gone too far.
Nadine’s starting to look worried too. She keeps trying to wriggle free.
‘Where on earth are we?’ she says desperately. ‘We’ve been driving ages.’
‘We’re very nearly there. Just around the next corner,’ says Dave Skull.
And the next and the next and the next. And then eventually Ewan slows down and we drive slowly through a seedy council estate with boarded-up shops, overflowing dustbins and a few scraggy boys sucking on cans of lager like babies with bottles.
‘We’re here,’ says Dave.
‘Here?’ says Nadine, staring out, dazed. ‘You don’t live here, do you, Dave?’
For the first time in her life she sounds just a little bit like her mum.
‘What’s up, sweetheart? Don’t you like life when it’s a little on the wild side?’ says Dave. ‘Come on, out you get.’
Magda and I look at each other, trying to work out what on earth to do now. Nadine is whiter than usual, her lipstick smeared all over her chin.
‘Oh help,’ she whispers. ‘Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.’
This is the scariest place I’ve ever been. The boys drinking lager yell ugly stuff at Magda when she wriggles out the van. She reacts with her fingers but this just encourages them.
‘Hey, clear off, you berks,’ says Dave Skull. Well, that’s approximately what he says. He’s got hold of Nadine again so she can’t run away. He can see she’s having second thoughts. Third, fourth, fifth thoughts.
‘I didn’t realize it had got so late,’ Nadine says. ‘I’m sorry, but I think we really ought to get back now.’
‘We’ll take you back. Later on. Let’s go and play a little music, eh?’
‘I can’t sing at all, actually,’ says Nadine.
‘Never mind. I’m sure you can dance. I’d like to watch you dance, Nadine.’
‘Yeah, sure you would,’ says Magda. ‘Look, we have to get back. Now.’
‘Keep your hair on, Scarlet,’ says Ewan. ‘We’ll take you back. Later. Come and strut your stuff first. We want to hear you sing too.’
‘I’m not in a singing mood any more,’ says Magda.
‘Then we’ll have a little drink first. Loosen you up. Yeah, we’ll have a little party, right, Dave?’
‘You bet.’
‘You’re on,’ says Pig Ian.
We look at them. They look at us.
‘OK, just one drink,’ says Magda.
‘No!’ I hiss. ‘Let’s just run off, please!’
But Magda’s looking round at the guys, at the boys drinking lager, at the bleak stone walkways.
‘If we try to make a run for it now they’ll catch us and then they might get really ugly. We’d better go with them and then clear off as soon as we can,’ Magda mutters.
‘I’m sorry,’ Nadine wails. ‘It’s all my fault.’
‘What are you girls whispering about, eh?’ says Dave. ‘Come on. Follow me.’
So we do, because there doesn’t seem to be any other alternative. They take us in a stinking lift up to the top floor, swooping up so fast I feel sick. It’s a relief to step out into fresh air but the view over the balcony makes me dizzy. I hold the rail tight, little flecks of rust embedding themselves in my palms. The buildings below don’t look real. I feel I could jump from roof to roof as if they were stepping stones.
‘Quite a view, isn’t it?’ says Ian Pig, standing close behind me.
I try to shuffle away from him, pressing against the cold concrete. Space whirls in front of me. I look down down down at the tiny toy world below. The pig rootles nearer. Blood starts drumming in my head. My knees won’t lock to hold my legs straight. He puts his damp hands on my shoulders, gripping tight. I give a little squeak.
‘Scary, eh?’ he says. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.’
‘You let her go!’ says Nadine, looking wretched.
‘He’s only teasing,’ says Dave Skull. ‘In you come, then.’
I suppose we were hoping it might be better inside. Maybe painted black like Nadine’s own bedroom, with Gothic decorations and silver candlesticks and weird posters. But it’s just a bleak bare wreck of a flat, smelling of drink and cigarette smoke.
‘Hey, no-one pretended it was House Beautiful,’ says Dave, seeing our faces. He’s picking up a ropy old guitar – but his strumming doesn’t sound very skilled.
‘Are you going to sing, Nadine?’ he says.
She shakes her head nervously.
‘How about you, Scarlet?’ says Ewan, sitting on the sofa and slapping his knees as if they were a drum kit.
‘Somehow I’m not in the singing mood,’ she says.
‘Sure – but we’ll fix that,’ says Dave, nodding at Ian. ‘Get us all a drink, eh?’
‘Just one,’ says Magda. She’s looking at the door, obviously wondering if it might be better to make a dash for it as I suggested.
Dave Skull sees she’s looking at the door too. He stops strumming, strolls down the hall, takes out his key – and double-locks the door. Then he puts the key in the pocket
of his jeans, grinning.
So this is it. We’re really trapped now. Nobody knows where we are. Our families think we’re at the Claudie concert and we’re being driven home afterwards. They won’t worry about us for hours. And what can they do when they eventually phone round and find out we’re missing? How can anyone ever find us? We don’t even know where we are.
I still feel sick. I wonder if I’m actually going to throw up. I mutter something about needing the loo and find the right door. I flop inside the dank little room, desperately trying to think what to do. If only we were at Claudie’s concert enjoying our girls’ night out! This is all a crazy nightmare and it’s getting worse and worse and worse.
I join the others in the dingy living room. Ian Pig has got his guitar now but they’re certainly no real band. They’ve opened up some cans of beer. Magda and Nadine are clutching a can each.
‘Come on, girls, drink up,’ says Dave Skull. He tosses me a can of beer too. I hold it helplessly.
‘What’s up? Don’t you like the taste?’ he says. ‘I know what you might like more.’ He brings a bottle of vodka out of a cupboard. ‘Here, have a little swig of that. It’ll help you relax.’ He passes it to me.
‘I don’t drink, actually.’
All the boys laugh unpleasantly.
‘This one doesn’t do much,’ says Piggy Ian.
Ewan tries to pull Magda on to his lap. She bats him off fiercely.
‘Maybe this is a big mistake,’ he says. ‘They’re just silly little schoolgirls.’
‘My Nadine’s cool, aren’t you, babe?’ says Dave. ‘Hey, you want to see the rest of my jewellery? Come through here.’ He gestures towards the bedroom.
‘I think I’m OK here, thanks,’ Nadine says in a tiny voice.
Dave hands the vodka to her and she takes a little swig and then chokes.
‘I’ll have some too,’ says Magda, taking the bottle.
She doesn’t drink a drop, keeping her lips tightly closed as she tilts the bottle up in the air. ‘There!’ she says, wiping her mouth as if she’s just downed a triple measure. ‘That’s better. Hey, how about you guys putting some music on your CD player? Then we can all play and sing along, and we won’t feel so self-conscious.’
It helps a little to have the music blaring. The three guys down their beers and pass the vodka round. We pretend to swig from the bottle too. Magda’s doing her best to lighten things up. Nadine keeps trying to edge away from Dave Skull.
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