Angel Dares

by Joss Stirling

  ‘You do?’ He looked a little doubtful, taking in my diminutive stature and pea-sized knuckles compared to his biceps and boxer fists. I know I don’t look very threatening.

  ‘Tell him, Misty.’

  My friend grinned. ‘She extinguished his passion with a dunking in dirty water last time. Just imagine what she’d be able to do by the seaside.’

  I wriggled my fingers, making Will’s beer do a little loop in his bottle. ‘I’ll release the wrath of Neptune if Jay so much as looks at me the wrong way.’

  Will admired the storm I had whipped up in his bottle—the froth was erupting from the top like a volcano. ‘I believe you, AC/DC. You’re one scary savant.’

  Point made, I let his beer subside. ‘So just give me a day or two and I should have secured a backstage pass. You, William, will not be leaving the UK without the love of your life if this guardian Angel has anything to do with it.’

  On reflection, it was much easier to promise to suck up to Jay Fielding than to carry it out. First part of the operation was to phone Matt and see how things were with the band. I caught him on Sunday just before practice.

  ‘Hi, it’s Angel. How’s my top drummer?’

  Matt grunted.

  ‘That good, hey? How goeth the hunt for my replacement?’

  ‘Complete washout. We’re not the same without you, though Jay would rather walk over broken glass than admit it. The last violinist broke a bow over Jay’s head, he was that pissed off with our great leader for saying he wasn’t as good as you.’

  So Jay did rate me, at least behind my back. ‘So there’s still a vacancy?’ I let that hang out there for a second, knowing Matt would put two and two together.

  ‘You still interested? I’d’ve thought you were happy to keep clear. If you come back, you know what Jay’ll think.’

  I suppressed a shudder. ‘But I have you to protect me, don’t I?’

  Matt sighed. ‘I can’t be watching your back all the time, Angel.’

  ‘That’s OK, he’s mostly attacked from the front.’

  ‘You shouldn’t joke about it—someone should teach him a lesson. He can’t get away with treating girls like that.’

  ‘But when you hit fame and fortune, there’ll be so many groupies knocking on his dressing-room door, too star struck to know better, the rest of us will be safe. Jay simply won’t have time.’

  ‘Or he’ll think he’s even more God’s gift to girls.’

  Sadly, that was true. ‘Look, I don’t want Jay to spoil this chance for me. I backed off for a bit but now I’d like to return. I earned my place on the band just like you guys—you know I did.’

  ‘You’ll hear no argument from me. We’re just not that good without you. But I think Jay’s aware you upstage him—as far as guys watching are concerned, at least. You’ll have to make some pretty convincing arguments for him to give in.’

  I pondered for a moment calling Alex in to assist with his savant powers. Problem was, now he knew Jay had pushed me out of the band for rejecting his smarmy advances, Alex might just make things worse by settling the score. I’d have to rely on my own charm. ‘I’ll drop by the rehearsal tonight and see what happens.’

  ‘Your funeral,’ said Matt glumly.

  ‘Don’t you want me back on side?’

  ‘Of course I do. But I worry about you, sweetheart.’

  ‘You’re a good friend, Matt. Thanks. But I can look after myself. Jay’s the one who should be worrying.’

  The band rehearsed in a room in Imperial College where Jay was supposedly studying electronic engineering. At least he knew how to wire a mixing desk so his university place wasn’t entirely wasted. I lingered outside to listen to how they sounded without me. I could hear a lot of expletives from Jay and dark grumblings from his band mates. I could not resist celebrating the discovery that my enemy was suffering. Let’s face it: I never was in the frame for a sainthood.

  They tried ‘Star-Crossed’ but without the violin solo it came across as lame: all clever music tricks and no heart. Time for me to make my entrance.

  ‘Hi, guys!’ I said breezily, taking off my coat and opening my violin case. ‘Do you want to try that again?’

  Jay stood speechless. Matt grinned and started playing. The drum intro kicked everyone into action before Jay could stop them. I swooped my way through the solo, adding a few embellishments I’d thought of during the months I’d been away. When we came to the end, I let my bow drop by my side.

  ‘So?’ I asked. I pasted a huge Angel-sure-of-herself smile across my face.

  ‘Angel, that was great!’ said Kyle, our bass player, toasting me with his bottle of water.

  ‘Cool. I’ve missed you,’ admitted Richie, our saxophonist.

  ‘Not bad,’ said taciturn Owen, the second guitarist. High praise from him.

  We all looked to Jay. I could see he was weighing up bawling at me for invading his rehearsal without an invitation versus making use of me.

  ‘Guys, give Angel and me a moment,’ he said. ‘We’ve done enough for one night so I’ll see you down in the bar.’

  Obediently the band packed up and filed out. Matt gave me a warning look as he left. I checked the room for water sources but sadly the fire extinguishers were the CO2 sort. An awkward silence fell.

  Jay stood his guitar against the wall. ‘You’ve got a cheek coming here.’

  I ran my finger over the clasp of my violin case. ‘Cheek? That sounds like me.’

  ‘I suppose you want me to take you back?’ Jay leaned against the door, blocking a quick exit. He was doing a good impression of being intimidating.

  ‘Matt says you haven’t filled my place yet so I thought we could do each other a favour.’ It was much harder than I expected to meet his eyes.

  ‘So you expect me just to forget what happened?’

  Predictably, he wanted me to crawl. ‘What did happen, Jay? You had an accident.’

  ‘And yeah, you laughed at me.’

  In his mind, that had been my real sin. He had no idea I was responsible for the accident in the first place.

  Humble pie time. Will Benedict, I hope you are grateful. ‘I’m sorry I laughed at you. I was nervous. Before the show I always get giggly—you know what I’m like.’

  He gazed at me, probably wondering what else he could extract from me in the way of humiliation. ‘You’re still not one of us.’

  My heart sank: I’d failed. ‘OK.’ I put on my coat, picked up my violin and headed for the door, hoping he’d let me pass without contact.

  His hand gripped my elbow. ‘But if you’re nice to me, I’ll bring you back for a trial period—on a session musician basis.’

  I wanted to spit at him but forced myself to remember why I was doing this. ‘You’ll let me play at Rockport?’

  ‘Yeah, but you won’t be mentioned in the lineup. I’m serious about you cramping our appeal to female fans.’

  ‘That’s not fair.’

  ‘It’s the only deal I’m offering.’ His fingers were digging in painfully.

  I don’t think I’d ever despised anyone so much as I did him at that moment. ‘Then I’ll take it.’ I tugged to get my arm free.

  ‘Part of the deal is being nice to me.’ He pulled me closer.

  Crap. ‘I am being nice to you, Jay.’ I hadn’t scratched his eyes out yet.

  ‘Nicer than that, honey.’

  The door shoved behind him, toppling us both forward. Matt appeared with a trolley.

  ‘Oh sorry,’ he said, not in the least apologetic, ‘just loading up my kit before my car gets a parking ticket.’

  Saved by the drum kit. I freed myself from Octopus Jay. ‘Let me help you. Jay says I can appear with you at Rockport: isn’t that great?’

  ‘Yeah. Thanks, mate.’ Matt gave Jay an over-friendly punch on the shoulder. Jay winced. ‘She’s like our secret weapon, isn’t she? A great find you made when you selected her.’

  That’s right, Matt: appeal to Jay’s vanity. Make me into
his discovery.

  ‘I suppose I did. Yeah, I was the one that found her.’ I could see Jay was already planning to use the line in interviews. ‘See you in the bar after you’ve packed up?’ Jay’s eyes swept my entirely ordinary jeans and jumper combo, managing to make me feel tainted.

  ‘Tragically, I’ve got to dash.’ Hold back on the sarcasm, Angel. ‘I’ve got a music exam tomorrow.’

  Matt ruffled my hair. ‘Good luck. You know I forget you’re still in sixth form—way younger than the rest of us.’ I picked up his subtext: Jay, you are a creep picking on schoolgirls.

  ‘Not that much younger,’ grumbled Jay, who liked no one to remind him that he had said goodbye to his teens.

  ‘Well, thanks anyway for having me back,’ I said brightly. ‘I’ll see you at the next rehearsal. Let me grab that for you, Matt.’ Picking up the snare drum, I made a run for it with Matt’s kit before Jay changed his mind.

  Surveying the belongings scattered on my powder-blue carpet between bed and window, I ticked off the list of things I had to bring: wellies, tent, clothes for mud, clothes to perform in, clothes to party in, towel, toiletries. What else? Problem was I was so excited I couldn’t sit still long enough to remember.

  Mum came in carrying a pile of folded laundry. ‘I expect these to end up in your chest of drawers, not on the floor, young lady.’

  ‘Yes, Mum.’ I gazed vacantly into the half-empty wardrobe. There was definitely something missing.

  Mum stood among the flotsam and jetsam on my carpet sea, hands on hips. ‘And is all that supposed to fit in your rucksack?’

  ‘That’s the plan.’

  Mum hummed and started filling the bag with her usual methodical ease. ‘I’m a little worried about you going off to that festival. I’ve heard about these things—don’t take any pills people offer you.’

  Wise advice but I really already knew that. ‘I won’t.’

  ‘And try to get some sleep. Scientists have proved that our best sleep is the two hours before midnight.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ Sleep could wait.

  ‘And don’t talk to any strangers.’

  ‘I’ll be with Will Benedict when I’m not with the band, camping along with Misty, Summer, and Alex. You like them, don’t you?’ I added a little travel case of jewellery to the pile.

  Mum rifled through my heap of things. ‘Are you not planning to change your underwear?’

  I snapped my fingers. ‘That’s what I forgot.’ I pressed a smacking kiss on the top of her head. ‘Thanks, Mum. You must think I can’t cross the road safely without you.’

  She bit her lip, repressing her urge to agree. ‘I was going to see if I could do something about the local weather for you—divert a few winds to a few miles down the coast.’

  That would exhaust her—and was unethical. Savants aren’t really supposed to use their powers to arrange the world for their own convenience—large-scale use was for emergencies only. If Mum adapted the weather at the Rockport festival to stop her daughter getting damp then some poor farmer in Africa might not get the rains she needed: everything is interlinked like the theory about the butterfly wings causing the hurricane. ‘Please, don’t. If it rains, then so be it. Wading through mud is part of the experience. I’ll be fine.’

  ‘We’re only a phone call away.’

  I chuckled. ‘I know, but this is Brighouse-by-Sea we’re talking about. You know: sandy beaches, bucket-and-spade kids, pensioners with flasks. It’s not as if anything will happen to me, is it?’

  Jay had made it clear that, as ‘not one of the band’, I was responsible for getting myself to the festival. No place in his minivan for me, he announced at our last rehearsal. Had he heard about the photo of him I had stuck to the dartboard on the back of the shed door? I found that great therapy. Seventh Edition’s loss was my gain as Will had hired a car so he could drive us to the south coast and I’d far rather travel with my friends. The plan was to arrive in good time for Wednesday, the first day of the festival. Gifted weren’t expected to pitch up much before their performance on Friday. I had a gig on Thursday and Will wanted to give me time to prepare the ground and get to know my way around backstage.

  Poised by the window next to the front door, I was out of the house even before Will tooted the horn outside. The others were already in the car: Summer in the front, Alex and Misty in the back.

  ‘Hi, guys!’ I jumped down the steps and shoved my tent in the boot, ignoring the fact that it was full to the brim already. It would fit somehow. Dad followed with my rucksack. He and Will had to unpack to fit everything in.

  ‘I can’t imagine how you’re going to carry all this stuff,’ Will marvelled. It was true that my rucksack was as big as me and possibly heavier.

  ‘Excuse me: performer.’ I tapped my chest. ‘I have to be prepared for my public.’

  ‘She just wants to impress Gifted,’ said Misty shrewdly. ‘Once they are in the room, you’ll not get another word of sense out of her.’

  ‘It’s not my fault they are all so … oooh … talented and hot.’

  ‘But most of them are way too old for you,’ said Summer.

  ‘But that’s not the point: I admire them as musicians.’

  ‘Yeah right,’ muttered Alex.

  I plonked myself next to Misty. With my two violins on my knee, it was a squeeze, but we managed it.

  ‘Two?’ asked Alex.

  I patted the black rock violin. ‘One for stage—and the other because … well, just because.’ I had had a strong hunch that I should bring my folk one too. Savants learn to listen to instincts.

  ‘Angel doesn’t like to be parted from Freddie,’ explained Misty.

  ‘Freddie?’ Alex looked doubtfully at the battered case that held my second instrument.

  ‘No, she hasn’t got some creepy ventriloquist doll in there!’ laughed Misty, obviously having read Alex’s mind through their telepathic link. ‘Freddie the Fiddle.’

  ‘I should explain I named it when I was nine, in honour of rock legend Freddie Mercury.’ The problem about having such old friends is that they never let you forget an unfortunate nickname or silly thing you did when at primary school. At one stage, it had even been painted in Tipp-Ex across the lid. ‘I’ve not called it that for years.’ At least, not when other people were present.

  The boot crunched closed. I hugged my violins closer to my chest, relieved I’d had the foresight to keep them with me.

  ‘Give me Freddie,’ said Summer. ‘I’ve room by my feet.’

  ‘You can have Black Adder.’ I passed her the rock violin. ‘Freddie stays with me.’

  Dad tapped on the window and I pushed the button to bring it down to say goodbye.

  ‘Have a lovely time, all of you. Bring her back in one piece,’ Dad said to Will.

  ‘Yes, sir. Thanks for the loan of your daughter.’

  Dad smiled doubtfully and then stood back to let us go. My parents may be reluctant to let me out of their sight but they don’t get in the way when they know I really want something.

  ‘I’ll text when we get there,’ I shouted out of the window.

  Summer, as the most responsible English person present, was on navigation. She tapped the destination into the satnav. Will pulled out of my road and headed for the South Circular.

  ‘So, how long’s the drive?’ he asked, rolling his neck.

  ‘It’s quite a journey. We should be there in about three hours,’ Summer told him.

  His shoulders started shaking with laughter.

  ‘What?’ I asked.

  ‘We’re setting off at the crack of dawn to drive for just three hours? I drive three hours in Colorado to pick up groceries.’

  ‘Brighouse is a long way from London,’ Misty said.

  ‘Alex, help me out here, bro.’

  ‘Small-island mentality, Will. You’ll get used to it. Misty’s trained me into thinking that anything over half an hour is an expedition requiring months of planning, scheduled stops and emergency supplies
.’

  Misty elbowed him. ‘Not true.’

  He squeezed her arm. ‘OK—a day’s planning.’

  ‘Don’t knock your host country, William,’ I said in my best reproving manner.

  Will tapped the brim of an imaginary chauffeur cap. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘Left, William, we drive on the left!’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Our car selected the correct side of the quiet suburban road. ‘Just checking you were paying attention.’

  We arrived at the campsite at lunchtime, joining the long queue of festival-goers filing into the field for parking. Cars had to be left some distance from where the tents were to be pitched so that meant we had to carry all our stuff for what felt like a mile. Will took pity on me and shouldered my rucksack as well as his, but that still left me toting two violins.

  ‘I hope you’ve got somewhere safe to leave them,’ warned Summer.

  ‘I imagine there will be an instrument store backstage.’ I edged round a puddle—wellies were packed, weren’t they? Summer, of course, had on sensible rubber ankle boots with Monet lilies on them, whereas I was optimistically wearing sandals.

  Misty laughed and nudged Alex.

  ‘What?’ I asked. They were telepathically whispering again.

  Misty blushed slightly. ‘I was just telling Alex: imagine, Freddie and Black Adder can nestle up to Kurt’s guitar.’

  ‘You think?’ Many of my daydreams featured me and Kurt Voss, lead singer of Gifted, jamming together and, well, other stuff.

  ‘No, I’m joking, Angel. You’d be lucky they let you anywhere near their gear—must be a security nightmare with so many crazy fangirls out there.’ She grinned at me. ‘I wonder what they’ll say when they find one has slipped through the net?’

  I stuck my tongue out at her. ‘I’m not going to do anything crass. I’ll be professional—you know, politely interested? But first, I’m going for the mysteriously aloof girl haunting the green room, looking soulful with some dark delicious secret. Kurt will become fascinated by me and want to find out more.’

  Misty snorted with barely suppressed laughter as Alex and Will chuckled out loud.

  ‘What?’

  Summer fell in step beside me, neat black backpack settled comfortably on her shoulders so she still looked fresh. ‘I think you’d be better off being yourself, Angel. The strain of trying to be aloof will probably kill you.’