by Judy May
I’m glad I told Em-J all that stuff, but also glad I didn’t tell her about the Hazel Wood Girl and The Watcher. I just really hope he didn’t tell his girlfriend about it, I’d love to share this one thing just with him. I walked past the Hazel Wood later in the afternoon and could see a note hanging there for me, but I was too sad to go and look at it.
We didn’t have a rehearsal tonight because Christophe said he had to work late for the farmer he works for. I bet he’s not working that late, but he didn’t think he could tell us he wanted to spend time with Helen instead of with the band.
At dinner we were talking about how to organise parking all the cars on the night of the gig, and Dad couldn’t remember Beau’s name and called him, ‘Your relaxed friend’, which made me wonder how people would describe me. I mean, Em-J is outrageous, Christophe is funny, Sammy-boy is thinky (oh, what’s the word for that? I think ‘contemplative’ or something), Mindy is carefree, but what about me? I’m boring.
All my stuff goes on inside. I know that I’m way better than I was since the whole band thing started. I’d love people to think of me as creative and daring. Then when other people’s dads couldn’t think of my name they’d say,
‘You know, that creative girl, the really daring one.’ And they’d know it was me.
DAY FORTY-FIVE
Mum wanted to call the police this time because all the goose eggs have gone, and all the raspberries and most of what was left of the broad beans. Dad calmed her down and promised to get a security camera. Adam didn’t help by saying that they’d probably steal that too.
I phoned the music shop and they have only sold four tickets for the Farmer gig, so I am going to meet Em-J (who got the posters from Christophe at nine o’clock this morning) and Beau (who was supposed to get the posters from Christophe at eight o’clock this morning).
I’m still really hurt and pissed off that Christophe has a girlfriend and that he kept her a secret. I don’t think I’d even admitted it to myself how hopeful I was getting. Now I just want to show him as well as all the others that I am worth paying attention to, that I am fantastic in some way. I can’t leave the note hanging there any more. I’m going to go and see.
The note said,
Dear Hazel Wood Girl,
Your mission (as always, should you choose to accept it) is to let people know how you really feel.
From, Your Friend,
The Watcher
‘Your Friend’!!! OK, well he couldn’t make it any clearer than that could he?
I have to get ready now to walk into town.
LATER
It’s so weird how everything can change so quickly. I felt so good yesterday with Em-J, and then I was pissed off at the note, and then soon after that I’m ready to forget the whole thing and lock myself away in my room for life and eat only bread. Mouldy bread at that. I hate my life. I keep getting happy for a while and then getting tricked by people only pretending to care about me.
I arranged to meet Em-J and Beau at four o’clock to do postering, but they didn’t bother to show up, they just left the posters there with the manageress. There I was, like an absolute donkey, waiting outside the café with all these posters, until after half an hour I went in and had a cup of tea and was feeling really abandoned. It was worse then because Beau’s mum came in to meet someone and as she passed me she said did I not go to the movie with the others. So I got stood up so they could go and enjoy themselves, and I suppose they thought I’d just go ahead and do all the postering work by myself.
Then, just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I went into the music shop to give them a poster to put up by the counter, and there was Christophe looking at the guitar strings when he was supposed to be at work. I decided that I would win this time, and breezed over to the counter, gave Eddie (the owner) a couple of posters, and told him rehearsals were going great. By then Christophe had seen me and was walking over. There was another girl in the shop, but I couldn’t tell if she was with him or not. And I was in NO mood to meet the famous Helen.
I put on a real cheery voice and said,
‘Not helping with the posters then?’
And he said,
‘I’d love to, but I have to get back to work in ten minutes. Would you like me to—’, but I said,
‘OK, see ya!’ and bounced out of the shop and up the street.
I didn’t stop to do any of the posters, but walked home by the double row of elms. It was the worst walk home I have ever had, even worse than all those times coming home from a hellish day at school. This time it was people I really thought were my friends who had let me down. I just cried all the way and was happy when it started to rain.
Luckily I had the posters in a waterproof bag, but I didn’t even care about that.
Now I just think that Barbara and her friends must be right, there’s something wrong with me, something that makes people want to walk all over me.
DAY FORTY-SIX
I didn’t have the heart to do the postering on my own this morning so I went into the greenhouse to read. Sammy-boy wasn’t there and I just sat feeling sad and angry for an hour, not even looking at the French stuff.
Then Em-J comes walking up with a big grin on her face which made me REALLY angry.
‘So super-chick, how did it go?’ she smiled.
God, she didn’t even say sorry! I started yelling at her. That’s not my style and I was as surprised as she was.
‘How did it go? How did it go? Well, Em-J, as far as getting stood up by your mates and waiting around for an hour and having to carry all the posters home by myself in the rain goes, it went brilliantly. And how was your afternoon with your boyfriend at the movies!?’
I didn’t even wait for an answer, but ran out of the greenhouse and raced across the fields towards the Hazel Wood.
Em-J was going,
‘Wait, Poppy, wait!’
So I shouted,
‘I think I’ve done enough waiting, don’t you?’
The next thing, I suddenly found myself lying in the mud with something around my knees.
Em-J had tackled me to the ground and wasn’t letting me up until I listened.
She spoke really quickly.
‘Christophe was supposed to be there too. I left him a message and his mum said he’d be finished by then. Our plan was to keep out of your way so that the two of you would spend time together without me and Beau, and that maybe Christophe would see the light, ditch his girlfriend and go out with you. Love the new temper by the way, every rock star should have one.’
There was about five seconds of silence, and I said, ‘Oh!’ and then we both started laughing.
She was really sorry, and had been so certain that Christophe was going to be there and that her plan would work and I’d be ecstatically happy. I could tell that she was really distressed that it had gone wrong, and she kept saying that she would never take me for granted like that.
Then I blurted out what else had been on my mind.
‘Em-J, do you think I’m really boring compared to you and the others?’
‘God no! I think that you say really good things while I just shoot my mouth off all over the place. We all talk about how kind and clever you are, and how smart and sophisticated you sound compared to us.’
‘Oh,’ was again as smart and sophisticated as I could manage in the moment.
We arranged to go and do the posters after the rehearsal (and after showering and changing). They had called a last-minute rehearsal that morning because Christophe got the morning off, but they couldn’t get hold of me to tell me.
The others were waiting at the stone barn when Em-J and I walked in, covered in mud, although she was used to it, having been a member of the town’s junior women’s rugby team for the past two winters. We were laughing and looking like we’d been sleeping rough for weeks.
‘Don’t ask,’ Em-J warned the boys with a smile and a head shake. And they did as they were told.
T
he rehearsal was great, and every time I almost made one of the moves or gestures we had practised in my room, and then stopped myself, Em-J would turn away so we wouldn’t crack each other up.
We found out that Christophe didn’t get yesterday’s postering message until late last night. Christophe wasn’t as smiley as usual. He looks really tired these days. I forget sometimes that his mum is sick and that he has a lot on his plate. I have decided to act better towards him and be his friend. After rehearsals he gave a quick tired smile and ran off. I’m really confused as to how things got to feel so bad between us. I am sitting here on my bed at midnight, trying to work out how to answer his Watcher note.
***
I am going to write,
Dear Friend,
I don’t know how to answer your note. My feelings are so all over the place these days that as soon as I show one emotion, it’s moved on and has become something else. Sorry if I’ve been a bit weird.
From,
The Hazel Wood Girl
Should I just write, ‘from’ or make it, ‘love from’? God, I’m impossible!
DAY FORTY-SEVEN
I went down at midnight last night with a torch and thought I could feel someone near the Hazel Wood, by the ruined cottage. So I left the note and ran. It was probably just a fox.
This morning we rehearsed a new number where I do a duet with Christophe, which I know is just more scheming on Em-J’s part. He looked a little sad again even though I could see his note from me sticking out of his back pocket.
Then a man came around from the local paper to interview us and take a picture. We all got ridiculously excited then and the mood really picked up. Remembering that we are doing it for Barry is really important so that we don’t take ourselves too seriously.
Then tonight, me and Mum had just finished eating dinner (Dad and Adam were working late with the vet and the cattle) when there was a knock at the back door.
We expected it to be one of the men who help out on the farm, but this time it was Christophe, asking for me.
I didn’t get too excited, but I was glad to have the chance to make things right.
He said he was wondering if I wanted to practice the vocals on the new number. I felt like saying something sarky like,
‘Won’t your girlfriend mind?’, but instead I just smiled and said,
‘I’ll get my jacket.’
I started veering us toward the stone barn, even though I knew he was automatically headed for the Hazel Wood. I thought it would be less complicated that way.
I think that I was more relaxed with him now that I know that he’s out-of-bounds (or ‘girlfriended’ as Em-J calls it). He was just like he is with the others, really funny, and even insisted on giving me a piggy back when I wasn’t walking as fast as him. Then he threw me down onto one of the hay bales that we’d dumped outside the barn.
He was going,
‘So, mademoiselle rock star, how do you mange to look so glamorous all the time?’ and was shoving hay down my back and messing up my hair.
I was gasping for breath I was laughing so much.
As soon as he stopped I jumped up and grabbed a whole other bale and threw it on top of him and he pretended to be dying underneath it. We just messed around for ages, saying strange things in French (his French accent is so sexy), singing the songs in the styles of different singers and pushing each other off the hay-bale stage, and then we ran out of energy and stopped, and looked at each other.
‘Hello, Hazel Wood Girl.’
‘Hello, Watcher.’
‘You can always talk to me you know.’
‘I know.’
And then with the worst timing of anyone in the whole history of the universe, Mr Granger marched around the side of the barn. He walked off as soon as he saw us, but his being there was enough.
‘Right,’ Christophe jumped up, ‘We’re finding those papers.’
I think when we were interrupted it sort of reminded us that we don’t usually carry on like that. We looked around the whole barn in case we missed something the last time, Christophe even climbed up into the rafters. They are definitely not there. Eventually, still a bit embarrassed about earlier, we decided to sing the new song, and practised it until Dad came in and said that Mindy was on the phone to Mum and wanted a word with me too.
Christophe asked about Mindy and I just laughed and said,
‘You have plenty of time to find out how wonderful my sister is.’
He half-jokingly said,
‘Well, if she’s anything like you I like her already.’
That kind of made me feel good, and kind of made me nervous of when they do meet. I know I’ll hardly get a look in with him once she’s back, and fabulous Helen-the-girlfriend had better watch out too!
For now though, I am just loving the fact that we are now more friends than ‘sort-ofs’. It’s like The Watcher and The Hazel Wood Girl finally met tonight for the first time.
DAYS FORTY-EIGHT, FORTY-NINE & FIFTY
I haven’t written in this for a couple of days because it’s been all postering, rehearsing, getting the barn in order, getting the stage up … all that good stuff. The school came good on the fifty chairs, which I collected with Adam and Liza last night. The local amateur theatrical society provided us with their lights; they really make the barn look like a professional venue. Dad is being really great and said that he’ll take care of the electricity bill.
When I’m lying in bed about to fall asleep, I imagine myself singing in front of the audience and it makes me want to pretend to lose my voice so I won’t have to do it. Then I remember that Barry Finch really has hurt his voice from the smoke and I know that I’m brave enough to do what I need to do.
The gig is TOMORROW and I just want it to be OVER!
Only ten tickets have been sold, but the others say that pretty much everyone just pays at the door. We’ve been rehearsing through the amps and with mikes so I’ve had time to get used to that. So I suppose there’s nothing to be nervous of.
Nope. No good, I’m still sweating like a pig about it.
DAY FIFTY-ONE
I was sick to my stomach all day. We had decided that last night was the last rehearsal apart from the sound-check. The extra equipment like the mixing board arrived at about two pm and Em-J and her techie friends Tank and Rainbow (really) had it sorted, so I went to run through all the lyrics and drink a carrot and celery juice to keep my energy up.
We had the sound-check at five and it all sounded really good.
At six Em-J and I went up to my room to change. We both looked fantastic, ‘super-yummy’, as she’d say. Em-J had on these white, loose jeans, a white sleeveless t-shirt, and a really old, light-green leather jacket. Her blonde hair was a little more spiked than usual. She added one long, dangly earring and a small diamond stud in the other ear, then finished it off with black nail polish on her short fingernails. I asked her about shoes and she said she wasn’t going to wear any, and promptly painted her toenails black too.
Since my hair had gone so fair in the sun, I left it loose except for one small plait down the front on the right. I decided to wear the sneakers that The Watcher had decorated for me, and so had to build the rest of the outfit around that. I took out my dark jeans and Em-J said,
‘No! We need you looking as cool as you sound, baby-doll,’ and took over.
She decided on a short denim skirt with a bit of a flare, two belts criss-crossed over, long socks falling down, a thin jumper with a t-shirt over it (which sounds weird, but looks the absolute business). I would never have been able to think of how to put an outfit together like that. I so looked the part that I felt I was finally seeing who I want to be.
We checked ourselves in the full-length mirror and decided we were ready for the front cover of the coolest of music magazines.
One thing was really bothering me (there’s always something with me!) so I shared it with Em-J.
‘What if Barbara and her friends are there and
start booing?’
‘Not coming, chick. She’s still on the island.’
‘But you said she’d be back.’
‘That was just to get you to sing.’
‘Did my mum tell you I wanted to be in the band?’
‘Your mum, your dad, Adam, and even Christophe. I almost had to hire a receptionist, I was getting so many phone calls about you!’
I suppose it’s good when people get involved in your life.
The guys made such a fuss when we met them in the kitchen that I felt like the night was already a success. They especially loved the belts, and I caught Christophe checking out my legs!
Mum made us all eat spaghetti in veggie sauce, which annoyed me at the time, but later I knew she was right.
We advertised that it was starting at eight, but by eight o’clock there were only a few cars in the makeshift car park (aka the small fallow field). Em-J said that even if we only had ten people in the audience that we were to be really professional and play our best for them. I was a bit relieved that there would only be a few, but a bit sad too because it would mean we wouldn’t make much money for Barry.
Then, by the time we had walked over, loads more cars, bikes and people on foot had arrived, and Beau said he counted eighty. Then in the half-hour before we went on stage, more people arrived, and Dad said we had over 250. I wished he hadn’t told me that because then I went all shaky and was sure I’d be seeing the spaghetti again soon!
Next thing, Adam was up on stage and welcomed everyone, and rabbited on a bit about fire exits and stuff that I couldn’t even understand because my heart was thumping inside my head, and my stomach was in my throat, and my feet and legs seemed to be gone completely. Christophe gave my hand a quick squeeze and his was as clammy as mine. I closed my eyes and imagined myself standing in the Hazel Wood, with a breeze blowing and the birds jumping about, and then I heard …