Love Lottery

by Cathy Hopkins

  Mum laughed. ‘And they’re my choices for what?’

  ‘The rest of your life. I think you should get out and start dating.’

  ‘Dating!’

  ‘Yes. You’re too young to be single.’

  Mum scratched her head. ‘Mr Riley? But he’s ancient.’

  ‘I know. I was only joking about him and being a nun or lesbian. Although I wouldn’t object, if that’s really the way you want to go. Marie Ferguson in Year Eleven at school, her mum ran off with one of the dinner ladies, so it does happen . . .’

  Mum looked at me in amazement. ‘Er, hold on. Go back a moment. One minute it’s out with the photo albums and get back with your father and now it’s get out there and start dating. What’s happened?’

  ‘I had a talk with Dad. He . . . well . . . I understand a bit better now and I want to say that I’m sorry. I’ve been an absolute pig and selfish and only thinking of myself and been blaming you and it wasn’t your fault that your and dad’s feelings changed. And I know you must have been upset because it’s not easy breaking up. So, I’m sorry. And I want you to know that I want you to be happy and that I won’t be horrible any more – at least not if I can help it.’

  Mum laughed, but her eyes were full of tears. She held out her arms to me and I went to her for a hug. ‘Me too. I know I’ve been . . . strained lately. But . . . well, we’ll get through this. All of us.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘Because we’re all grown-ups.’

  Mum laughed again and squeezed me harder. ‘As long as we’re all talking – that’s what counts. We’re still a family, you, me and Dad, even if we do live in different places.’

  ‘I know. I know that now.’

  ‘Er, Becca . . . Thanks for your suggestions about the dating, but I don’t want anyone else. I really don’t. It’s way too early to be thinking about anything like that. And you do know that’s not why we split up – to be with other people?’

  ‘I know. Dad explained and I understand. Sort of.’

  Mum reached out and took my hand. ‘Good. And I’m glad we’re friends again.’

  I gave her another hug and thought about what Cat had said about only having one mum and how Cat would never have moments like this in her life and my eyes filled with tears.

  ‘Oh God, here we go again,’ I said as I sniffed back the tears. ‘More blub time. It’s all I seem to be doing today, whether I’m sad or happy which is weird.’

  ‘It is possible to cry from happiness,’ said Mum. ‘It’s like the ice in you has melted and is coming out your eyes.’

  And that made me cry even harder. Best get it all out, I thought. It can’t be healthy having great, almighty ice cubes in your chest.

  ONE DAY TO GO.

  Two days of rock. Twenty bands.

  It was going to be a blast.

  On the first night, Dad dropped me off at the main tent where we had all arranged to meet. Everyone was there – Nesta, TJ, Izzie, Lucy, Steve, Lal, Lia, Cat, Mac and Squidge. Squidge had already got our tickets and was waving them at me as I got out of the car. The line-up for the evening was the Redfoot Sisters, the Pukka Princes, Jason and the Butler Boys and Jess Rider. Some less famous bands had already been on in the afternoon, so by the time we got in, the tent was already jam-packed and the atmosphere was rocking. As we trailed in, I caught Steve looking at me. I smiled back, but he looked away quickly as if I’d caught him out. I was about to say something to him when Lal put his arm around me and steered me away. I couldn’t help but think that it was a shame that Steve hadn’t been on the beach that day my mates had dared me to kiss the first boy who came along. As well as being cute, he looked interesting and I would have enjoyed the chance to get to know him and find out what was going on behind his cool demeanour.

  ‘Wow,’ said Cat as we stood on the sidelines and stared at the assortment of people moving to the music. There were ageing hippies in flowing robes, dancing barefoot, motorbike boys in leathers and tattoos, one guy on stilts in a clown’s outfit, another guy in a Superman costume, teens like us, parents, even old Mr Riley was there, grooving away in his own bubble.

  ‘If you can’t beat them, join them,’ said Izzie and pulled me on to the dance floor, where not long after we were joined by the others. We were soon lost in the music and danced our socks off as band after band took their place on the stage. Like Lia, Nesta was a brilliant dancer and boys stood open-mouthed, staring in admiration at the two of them. They looked stunning together, Lia with her long, white-blond hair and Nesta with her long, black, silk hair. People also stared at Squidge, but for a different reason – not one to be held back by his injuries, he was also on the dance floor, looking like some strange half human, half insect thing with his plaster cast and crutches. People were giving him a wide berth, not because he was a brilliant dancer, but for fear that they may get hit by a flying crutch. Mac, Lal and Steve joined in the dancing too and, for once, Lal wasn’t all over me. It was as if he’d finally sensed that I’d cooled off and he didn’t want to push it with me. I noticed Steve watching me a couple of times, but as soon as our eyes connected, he’d look away really fast. I hope he didn’t think I was a bad person because I kept watching him when I was supposed to be with his brother. I couldn’t help it – my eyes kept being drawn back to him. It wasn’t as if I was going to do anything about it. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Lal’s feelings.

  At the end of the evening, all the girls came back to my house for a sleepover, and to help me decide what to wear for the number that Izzie and I were going to do the next night. I wanted to look my best, as we’d be performing in front of so many people – fellow musicians as well as the public. Since the night of Lia’s sleepover when we’d agreed to do a song, Izzie and I had spent every hour we could rehearsing. Every single day, singing at my house, in cars, on buses, on the beach – everywhere we could as we didn’t have much time left before the big day. We tried all sorts of songs – the ones that I had been practising and some of Izzie’s. Her lyrics were awesome. She’d written songs about everything – about hating her mum, loving her mum, food, kisses, friendship, boys, a brilliant rap about school, sad songs, funny songs, happy songs. After we’d sung a selection to our mates and family, everyone, including Lia’s dad, said that we sounded best when we sang one of Izzie’s, with her playing the guitar. The song was called ‘Cosmic Kisses’ and our voices harmonised really well on it. The whole experience was so different to when I’d sung in the Pop Princess competition, where it was all about competing with other contestants. With Izzie, and Mr Axford on hand to advise, I felt like a proper singer. A professional. And it was way more enjoyable, like we were doing it for us, not for a panel of judges.

  Izzie really understood about the need to rehearse and I taught her all the vocal exercises that the competition coaches had taught me. In turn, she told me about how she wrote her songs. She asked to see mine, but I didn’t want to put her through the embarrassment of having to fake it like Cat, Mac, Lia and Squidge all tried to do. Reading her stuff had only confirmed what I already knew – that I was no songwriter. Izzie was though. It seemed to come so naturally to her. I decided I wouldn’t bother writing songs any more. Cat and the gang would be well relieved and, to tell the truth, I felt relieved too. Deep down I knew my songs were bad. I could still sing, though. Nothing would ever put me off that.

  I was just going through my wardrobe with the girls when there was a noise at my window.

  ‘What was that?’ asked Lucy, who was busy laying out various combinations of tops, dresses and jeans on my bed.

  ‘Who, more like,’ I said. ‘Sounded like someone threw a stone against the glass.’

  I went to the window and peeped out from behind the curtain. Lal Lovering was standing in the garden below.

  Nesta peeked over my shoulder, then darted back out of sight. ‘Sshhh. Don’t let him know that we’re here,’ she whispered.

  I pulled back the curtain a little way, then opened the window. Behind me, t
he girls gathered in a line by the wall to listen.

  ‘Becca . . .’ called Lal in a loud whisper.

  ‘You can’t come in,’ I whispered back. ‘It’s past eleven. I’ll get into trouble.’

  ‘I don’t want to come in.’

  ‘Oh. What do you want, then?’

  Lal shifted about uncomfortably. ‘Where’s your mum? I don’t want her to hear.’

  ‘She won’t. She’s in the front room with the telly on. You don’t have to whisper, but she wouldn’t like it if I let you in.’

  Lal shifted about again. ‘OK. I’m just going to say it, right? Look, I’m not stupid. I’ve been round the block a few times and, although I don’t understand girls, I do know a bit about them.’

  ‘And?’ Behind me, the girls were doing their best to be quiet, but I could see that Lucy’s shoulders had started to shake and she was in danger of bursting out laughing.

  ‘I can tell you’ve cooled off me. Yeah, I know that you’re having a hard time at the moment, but I think it’s more than that and . . . well . . . if you want me to hang out with you, then I will. I’m not someone to abandon a mate in time of trouble but . . . well, it is my holiday and . . .’

  ‘I know and that’s why I’m not going to dump you or anything.’

  ‘But that’s just it. No need to be noble on my account, believe me.’

  ‘So what, then? Why are you here?’

  Lal slumped over so that his arms hung in front of him and he swung them in a cross-cross motion a couple of times.

  I laughed. ‘You’re here to do monkey impersonations?’

  ‘Oh God,’ whispered Lucy. ‘He’s doing that arm-swinging thing, isn’t he? He always does that when he’s nervous.’ I turned to look at her and she swung her arms in front of her in exactly the way Lal was doing it outside. I nodded and then turned back to the window. Lal had stopped the swinging.

  ‘Shazza,’ he said.

  ‘Shazza?’

  Lal nodded. ‘I think it may be . . . love. I bumped into her in the village a couple of days ago and at the bus stop today, and . . . well to be honest . . .’ he started with the swinging arms again, ‘there’s some serious chemistry happening and I’ve only got a few days of my hols left and I can sense that you’ve lost interest . . . I can tell when a girl’s into me and when she’s not, and Shazza is and you aren’t. So, is it OK if I hang out with her for the rest of the holiday?’

  I turned to look at the girls. Lia and Cat were nodding like maniacs and giving me the thumbs-up.

  ‘I think they’ll make a really good couple,’ whispered Cat. ‘Perfect.’

  I leaned out of the window. ‘Sure. Course. Go for it. And we’ll be mates, yeah?’

  Lal grinned widely. ‘Yeah. Definitely. Cool.’

  At that point, Lucy pulled back the curtain. ‘And what do you think that you’re doing prowling around in a girl’s garden in the pitch dark?’ she demanded in a school-matronly voice.

  TJ appeared beside her. ‘Yes, you’re a very, very naughty boy!’

  Nesta appeared and leaned out of the window next to me. ‘And you’re going to have to be punished!’

  Lal groaned and sank to his knees. ‘Oh nooooo. Don’t tell me. Izzie’s up there too, isn’t she? I’d forgotten you guys were having a sleepover.’

  Lia swished back the other curtain and all the girls appeared with cheeky grins and waved at him.

  ‘Noooooooo.’ He thumped his forehead, then threw his arms up in the air in despair. ‘No. No. No. Nooooo. For God’s sake! You lot. You’re like a nightmare that follows me everywhere!’

  We all started laughing and luckily so did he.

  Nesta leaned further out of the window and I had to hang on to her so that she didn’t fall out. ‘Go now, sweet Romeo,’ she said. ‘Go and find thy true love. Go to thy Shazza with words of poetry and . . .’

  Lal got up and made a rude gesture at her with his hands. ‘Oh get lost, Nesta Williams,’ he said, then he turned and slouched into the shadows and out of the garden.

  ‘So, Becca,’ said Cat as soon as I’d closed the window. ‘Are you going to pursue Steve now? I saw you eyeing him up all night.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’ said Lucy. ‘What’s all this?’

  ‘Becca fancies your other brother now,’ said Cat.

  ‘Oh, tell everyone my secrets, why don’t you?’ I said as I clamped my hand over her mouth and pushed her down on to the bed. ‘You must be silenced.’

  ‘So, do you?’ asked TJ.

  I let Cat up and turned to face the rest of the girls. ‘Yeah but . . . no. OK, a bit. But he’s Lal’s brother. And yours, Lucy. I wouldn’t do it to Lal. Even though we finished and everything, I wouldn’t want to hurt him.’

  ‘Oh, he won’t mind,’ said Lucy. ‘I’ve known him longer than you have, don’t forget. As long as he’s got someone. He’s all for trying out as many people as possible before he settles down – his words, not mine. I wouldn’t worry at all. Really. He and one of his mates used to have a competition back in London where they had a chart on the back of Lal’s bedroom door and if either of them pulled, they got a gold star. So don’t feel bad, Becca. I’ve no doubt that Lal liked you, but I wouldn’t be surprised if you end up as a gold star on his door as well. Lal likes to try his luck and fancies himself as a bit of a player. Steve, on the other hand, is totally different. I think you should go for it with him. He treats girls like the intelligent individuals they are, not contenders for the gold-star chart. I think you and he would really get on.’

  I shook my head. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘It’s too soon. And anyway, I don’t think he even likes me. Every time I catch his eye, he looks away. It’s weird – like with some boys, you get an idea of how they see you. With Steve, I have no idea how he sees me at all.’

  ‘He does like you,’ said TJ. ‘I saw him watching you dance this evening. He definitely likes you.’

  ‘Get him to take a photo of you and then you’ll find out if he likes you or not,’ said Lucy. ‘He’s into portrait photography and often you can tell what he thinks of his subject by how he captures them.’

  ‘Yeah. He doesn’t show his feelings the way Lal does,’ said Izzie. ‘The two of them are like chalk and cheese. Lal is an open book. What you see is what you get. No hidden depths. You always know exactly where you are with him. Steve is much harder to read.’

  ‘But worth the effort, if you’re willing to make it,’ said TJ. ‘He and I had a thing for a while before I met Luke and I can honestly say that he is a really great guy.’

  ‘So, what happened?’ I asked.

  Izzie, Nesta and Lucy chorused, ‘Luuuuuuke.’

  ‘She found her soulmate,’ said Izzie.

  ‘Hey, if you fall in love with Steve and marry him, then we’d be sisters as well as mates,’ said Lucy.

  I laughed. ‘Hey, give me a break. We’ve hardly even spoken to each other yet.’

  ‘And we could all be bridesmaids,’ said Nesta as Izzie and TJ lined up next to her.

  ‘And us too,’ said Lia and Cat, who lined up with them.

  Izzie started singing, ‘Here comes the bride, here comes the briiiide . . .’

  Nesta put her hands together as if she was carrying an imaginary bouquet and the others quickly caught on and copied her and started walking towards me. They looked totally mad.

  ‘Ohmigod, scary!’ I said, laughing. ‘The attack of the zombie bridesmaids.’

  That was a cue for them to roll their eyes back and pull their best horror faces while Nesta let out a low groan. ‘Wuhoooooooo. They were dead. But they were deadly. Killer Bridesmaids. Coming to a wedding near you soooooooon.’

  ‘Not listening, not listening,’ I said as I plugged my ears with my fingers. ‘Now I’ll never be able to talk to Steve without picturing you lot in front of me being stupoid.’

  ‘OH NOOOOOOOOOOO . . .’ groaned Lia as she pulled back the curtain the next morning.

  I didn’t have to get out of bed to see why s
he had groaned. Although it was nine o’clock, the sky was black and I could hear the sound of rain lashing against the window.

  ‘Poo buckets,’ said Cat. ‘So much for our sunny summer festival.’

  A knock at the door announced Mum carrying mugs of tea on a tray. She came in and set the tray down on the cabinet next to the bed. ‘The forecast isn’t too good for later either,’ she said. ‘I don’t think it’s going to clear.’

  Izzie, Nesta, TJ and Lucy who had been sleeping in the spare room next door appeared and soon we were all squashed into my bed with our feet under the duvet, Cat, Lia and I sitting at the top and the others at the bottom.

  ‘A bit of rain won’t put us off,’ said Izzie as she sipped her tea. ‘We’re British!’

  ‘And bonkers!’ added Lucy just as there was a flash of lightning outside, followed soon after by a low boom of thunder.

  ‘But will anyone actually turn up in this?’ asked Nesta.

  ‘Of course,’ said Cat. ‘Most people have a two-day ticket and we’ll be in the tent. It will be fine. All we need is a pair of wellies.’

  ‘Hhmm . . . very sexy. Not,’ said Nesta.

  ‘Depends how you wear them,’ said Lucy.

  ‘I was thinking of on my head,’ said Nesta.

  ‘I don’t know why you’re even worried,’ said TJ. ‘You’d look sexy in a bin bag.’

  ‘I was hoping to wear my strappy sandals,’ said Nesta.

  ‘Me too,’ I said. ‘But I don’t think they’d be right in this rain.’

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ said Cat. ‘You’re acting like a right bunch of wet drips – er, OK, wrong analogy. Precious princesses. Get a grip. A bit of rain? We can still dress up. We get a lift up there in our wellies and rain gear, get into the tent, then it’s off with the anoraks to reveal the goddesses we are underneath.’

  Nesta nodded. ‘Geek to goddess in one change. Cool.’

  After breakfast, all the girls except Izzie disappeared to get ready and Izzie and I spent a few hours running through our song. Izzie had brought her gear with her last night, so she could get changed with me and we could go up together.