by Maggi Gibson
Then I strum my guitar REALLY LOUD a few times and launch into ‘Sweatshop Kid’, belting it out, high energy. In no time the crowd’s roaring and clapping along.
When I reach the second chorus I hold the mike down so Pip can sing too. Then everyone joins in. It’s brilliant. And I’m just getting into the third verse, really bellowing it out, and the whole place is rocking –
When suddenly, the stage lights go off…
I’m still singing but my voice is so tiny even I can hardly hear it. I’m strumming my guitar but there’s almost no sound. The crowd’s singing falters and dies.
Confused, I look round. Zing gives me a little wave from the side of the stage and a triumphant smile. Of course! She’s thrown the mains switch! Turned the electricity off. I stand there, not sure what to do. Some people are shouting and booing now. Zing comes towards me like she’s going to try to force me off. When suddenly, in the middle of all the mayhem, this boy weaves through the crowd, and with one leap vaults on to the stage.
It’s Twig!
‘Hi!’ he says as he runs past. And my heart does a spectacular triple back-flip somersault and lands unsteadily in my throat.
Next thing Twig’s pulled the big red handle on the mains switch. The lights surge back on. The mike shrieks into life. I strum my guitar and it thunders out over the big speakers. The crowd cheers. Twig plants himself firmly in front of the power switch, daring Zing to try to get past him…
And I start singing again.
Even once I’ve finished and said thank you, thank you, thank you, the crowd goes on cheering. Pip curtseys a few times, then dances to the front of the stage where Mum’s waiting to lift her down.
Waving and mouthing thank you, I head off stage backwards, so my guitar can preserve what bit of dignity I’ve got left.
‘You were awesome,’ Twig grins as I reverse past him into the privacy of the wings.
‘So were you,’ I grin back.
Phoenix is waiting to go on, and I’m wondering what’s going to happen.
‘Great stuff,’ he smiles, then nods at Twig. ‘Well done, mate.’
Already the MC is announcing his name. ‘Will you please welcome, the one and only Phoenix Macleod!’
‘Oh, before I go on, I thought you might like this,’ Phoenix says, draping one of his shirts round my shoulders. ‘It’s OK. They’re specially made for me. In Inverness. By my mum.’
For a moment I hold Phoenix’s gaze. The crowd’s shouting, Phoe-nix! Phoe-nix! Phoe-nix!
‘Have a good one!’ I smile. ‘I think you’ll find the crowd’s warmed up.’
‘You bet they are,’ he laughs. ‘You’re a hard act to follow, Sassy Wilde.’
Twig packs my guitar into its case while I quickly button up Phoenix’s shirt. It’s long and looks like a short dress.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ I say, grabbing Twig’s flowers. I pick up the little card he made and for a moment our eyes meet.
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘For everything.’
‘Any time,’ Twig shrugs.
I smile sadly at the drawing of the guitar-playing girl with the gold star sparkling above her.
‘I guess I’m not going to be a star now, am I?’
‘Does that worry you?’
I shake my head and my corkscrew curls bounce. ‘Nah,’ I lie bravely, even though the truth is that it hurts. ‘I did tell you I wouldn’t sell out… You didn’t believe me, did you?’
‘Sassy,’ Twig says. I hold his gaze. His eyes are brown, like dark honey. Warm. His face is inches from mine. And I think, this is it! At last! What I wished for on the first star! Twig is going to kiss me!!
‘You are a star,’ he whispers, his face so close to mine I feel his breath against my cheek… when suddenly a huge roadie sticks his hairy face round the curtain.
‘Looking for Ben of Y-Gen,’ he shouts. ‘Have you seen him?’
I shake my head and he disappears, and when I turn back to Twig the moment has passed.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ I say. ‘I really don’t want to see Ben and Zing. Not tonight.’
Twig grabs my guitar and I lead him out the back way. Together we hurry down the makeshift stairs. As Phoenix finishes his first song a huge round of applause goes up from the crowd. Something twangs in my chest. I loved being out there. I loved singing in front of a huge crowd. I loved hearing their applause. It made me feel totally alive. It’s what I’ve always dreamed of doing. For as long as I can remember.
And now I’ve blown it.
As we push through the festival-goers watching Phoenix, people nudge each other and point towards me. A girl grabs my arm and shouts into my ear, ‘Where can I get your CD?’ My heart thumps into my stomach. I shake my head. ‘You can’t,’ I say, trying to control the quiver in my voice. ‘I don’t have a deal.’
‘You will have!’ she grins. ‘You were brilliant.’
Then Mum spots us and waves, and Megan and Cordelia and Taslima and Pip come rushing over and I’m caught up in a round of excited hugs and squealing.
‘You were amazing, Sassy!’ Megan grins. ‘I always knew you could do it! I’ve always believed in you!’
As she hugs me Taslima whispers in my ear. ‘You did the right thing, Sassy. You do know that?’
‘Course I do,’ I answer, as tears of disappointment well up behind my eyes.
Just then Phoenix plays the opening chords for Megan’s fave song – the one she kept playing over and over in the camper on the way here – and I’m glad it’s too noisy for anyone to ask me more questions. Megan whoops and sways her hands above her head, and even Taslima and Cordelia are singing along. When he finishes the number the crowd goes crazy.
‘I’d like to sing this next song for someone very special…’ Phoenix announces from the stage when the applause at last dies down. And despite myself, despite the fact that I’m standing right beside Twig and that’s where I want to be, my heart skips a beat.
‘I only met her recently,’ Phoenix continues, ‘so I didn’t write this song for her. But tonight I want to dedicate it to her –’ He strums his guitar and the crowd cheers and a shiver shimmies down my spine, and I daren’t allow myself to think what my brain is going ahead and thinking anyway.
‘Cos what she did here tonight was really special,’ Phoenix says, and the crowd cheers again. ‘She spoke up for all the kids in the world who can’t make their own voices heard. So, Sassy Wilde, if you’re out there, this song is for you!’
He strums the guitar hard a few times, then launches into a fun funky number all about falling in love with a crazy girl. I’m not sure what to think. My head swirls in a kaleidoscope of emotions. I’m gutted that I’ve blown my record deal. I’m oh-so-happy that Twig is here. And now Phoenix Macleod is singing a song for me!
Then suddenly, I don’t just see Phoenix. I see all the crowd. All listening to him, swaying along, singing along. Megan, Cordelia, Taslima, Pip, even Mum. And everything becomes crystal clear. Phoenix is a performer. He’s putting on a performance. He’s singing for everyone.
But Twig is the real thing. I squeeze his hand and pull him closer. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ I shout into his ear.
‘So am I,’ he smiles, his eyes shining. ‘Phoenix is really cool, isn’t he?’
‘Yeah… he’s cool… but not as cool as you.’
Twig turns and looks at me in the moonlight. ‘Sorry,’ he shouts. ‘What did you say?’
I take a deep breath and cup a hand round Twig’s ear.
‘I SAID, YEAH, PHOENIX IS COOL. BUT NOT AS COOL AS YOU!’
‘Heard you first time,’ Twig grins. ‘Just wanted to hear it again!’
When Phoenix finishes his set Mum insists we all head for the yurt. As we pick our way along the woodland path in the bright moonlight Twig tells me about how he arrived at the festival, just before seven.
‘But I didn’t even know you were coming!’ I exclaim. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Twig shrugs and his tous
le of hair falls over his eyes. ‘I wasn’t going to come. It was a kinda spur of the moment thing. Dad gave me a lift to the station, then I walked the last few miles.’
‘Wasn’t he worried about you?’ Taslima asks.
‘I told him Sassy’s mum was picking me up. That I’d be sleeping in the camper.’
‘Mmmmm…’ Cordelia narrows her eyes. ‘You’re not psychic, are you?’
‘Not that I know of,’ Twig laughs. ‘Just prepared to take a risk. For something important enough, that is.’ He throws me a look I’m happy to catch, and despite my disappointment about the record deal a big rush of happiness froths up inside me.
‘I’m glad you came,’ I say quietly. ‘Like, for a whole lot of reasons.’
‘So am I,’ Twig smiles. ‘I wouldn’t have missed your performance for anything.’
Back at the yurt Mum suggests we light a campfire while she makes hot chocolate ‘to calm us all down a bit’.
‘So are you OK, honey?’ Mum asks when at last we’ve all got our cocoa and are settled down round the fire, the orange and red flames crackling. ‘You know, about… well… the way things have gone.’
‘If I could turn the clock back I wouldn’t do anything different.’ I sigh. ‘I don’t want to compromise, not about things that really matter to me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.’ Tears prick the back of my eyes again and I bite my bottom lip to stop them spilling over.
Mum hugs me. ‘You paid a big price to do the right thing, sweetheart. You made me very proud tonight.’
‘You made us all proud,’ Taslima says quietly.
‘NOT,’ Mum says quickly, ‘that I approve of you taking your clothes off in public!’
Everyone laughs and I wipe away a few tears that have escaped and are rolling down my cheeks.
‘Like you are the LAST person I would EVER have expected to take your clothes off on stage!’ Megan giggles.
‘I know, it’s one of the things I swore I’d never do!’ I force a shaky smile. ‘At first, when I realized Zing had tricked me into wearing Paradiso’s clothes, I wasn’t going to go out on stage at all. I even packed my guitar away. Then I thought, if I don’t go out and sing, I’ll miss the chance to make a point about kids working in sweatshops. So I had this brainwave. Everyone’s been down on the beach all day in bikinis. So why should it be such a big deal, really?’
I fall silent as a jeep bounces along the track, its headlamps spotlighting us. Twig moves closer to me and takes my hand. It pulls up outside our yurt, the lights fade and two people jump down. Ben and Zing.
‘Hi, Sassy,’ Ben calls. ‘You left your rucksack.’ He swings it out of the back of the jeep.
‘Thanks,’ I mumble.
As he strides over Zing hangs back in the shadow of the trees.
‘I was wondering if we could have a word?’ He nods towards the yurt. ‘In private.’
‘Sure.’ Reluctantly, I let go of Twig’s hand and get to my feet.
‘Maybe I should come with you?’ Mum says. I shake my head. I got into this on my own. I know I did the right thing, but sometimes in this stupid world that still means you have to face the music, you have to put up with people telling you how much you’ve let them down.
Inside the yurt it’s beautiful at night. The golden lanterns glow softly, casting ghostly shadows across the creamy canvas sides. I sit down on a sofa opposite Zing and Ben, feeling, despite the lovely surroundings, that I’m about to face a firing squad.
‘So how do you think it went, Sassy?’ Ben asks. I look up quickly. That wasn’t what I was expecting.
‘Actually,’ I say, suddenly angry, ‘I thought it went really well!’
Ben nods his head. ‘Well, actually, so did we,’ he says.
‘Pardon?’ I gasp.
‘We thought it went well,’ Ben repeats. ‘True, it wasn’t what we were expecting. And it will be hell trying to sort it out with Paradiso’s and Tween Qween Magazine. But you played a stormer, kiddo.’ A great big grin spreads across his face. ‘Your instincts for publicity are amazing. We need to get your first single out there while you’re hot.’
‘What? My first single? You still want to sign me? I haven’t ruined everything?’
‘Well, you almost did,’ Ben chuckles. ‘But the crowd loved you. And so did the press. Our phones have been red hot since you got off stage. Everyone wants to know who you are, where we found you. We’re expecting coverage in most of the papers tomorrow.’
‘And the TV crew got it all on film,’ Zing adds. ‘You’re causing a sensation, Sassy. And that’s what this business is all about. So no hard feelings, eh?’ Zing holds her hand out, but I don’t move to take it.
‘You lied to me, Zing,’ I say quietly.
‘I didn’t actually lie, Sassy,’ she says lightly. ‘I just didn’t tell you the whole truth. I honestly didn’t think it was such a huge deal –’
‘Well, it was,’
‘I can see that now, and I’m sorry. So no hard feelings, eh?’ Her hand is still outstretched, but I don’t move.
‘OK, Zing. Maybe I can forgive you for setting up the photo shoot, maybe you did think you were just doing your job, but that little accident with the iron and my T-shirt – that was a horrible thing to do.’
‘But that was an accident!’ Zing exclaims. ‘Cross my heart, Sassy. I was trying to iron it properly and it just shrivelled up and burned. There was nothing I could do!’
‘Really?’ I say, searching her face. Truth is, I want to believe her.
‘Really,’ she says, her face pale. ‘I would never have ruined your top on purpose.’
‘Listen, Sassy,’ Ben interrupts, getting to his feet. ‘It’s late now. I think we could all do with a good night’s sleep. How about we get in touch next week, talk then about you signing with us?’
‘Sure,’ I say to Ben. ‘But if I do sign with you, you’ve both got to be totally honest with me from here on in. You’ve got to take the things I believe in seriously.’
‘You got it, kiddo,’ Ben grins.
And I suppose I have!
I’ve got a record deal after all!
Whoopee! Whoopee! Whoopee!
While I was with Ben and Zing, Cordelia psychically detected another bag of marshmallows in a corner of the camper van. Mum’s just about to take them from her cos she says everyone’s had too much junk food already when I come leaping out of the yurt so excited I can hardly tell them that it’s all OK. That I’m getting my chance to bring out my first single after all!
‘Yay!’ Cordelia squeals, ripping the bag of marshmallows open while Mum’s ancient brain is still trying to catch up with what’s happening. ‘Let’s have a celebration!’
‘Oh, all right, then,’ Mum relents. ‘You can have another fifteen minutes. Twig, I’ll make up a bed for you in the camper. You’ll be sleeping with Brewster tonight.’
‘Sounds great,’ Twig grins as he sticks a marsh-mallow on the end of… errr… a twig – then holds it in the fire until it flames. When he pulls it out, it looks gorgeous, all sugary brown in the firelight. He passes it to me and I pop it in my mouth. It melts with gooey sweetness.
Pip snuggles up to me while Twig roasts another marshmallow for her. ‘You were brilliant tonight,’ I whisper in her ear.
‘I thought so too!’ she grins. ‘In fact, I thought I was the real star. I liked talking into the mike in front of hundreds of people. Maybe I’ll go into politics like Dad!’
‘Oh no,’ Mum groans. ‘One in the family’s more than enough!’
We all laugh.
‘You know what!’ Megan says, jumping up excitedly. ‘This is our last night here. Why don’t I take a photo of us all round the campfire? I’ll just get my camera. Back in a minute!’ And she runs off into the yurt.
‘Talking of cameras,’ I say as I sip my hot chocolate, ‘there’s one thing still bugs me. I never did find out who filmed the video of me singing at the Bluebell Wood and put it up on the Internet.’
�
��Oh, I know the answer to that,’ Twig says quietly as he passes a melted marshmallow to Taslima. ‘But I promised I would never tell.’
‘Well, I’d really like to know!’ I say, grabbing his hand and playfully twisting it so he falls back on the cushions. ‘So do I have to force it out of you?’
‘You can’t make Twig break his promise!’ Cordelia exclaims. ‘That wouldn’t be fair! He’d get bad luck, like, forever.’
‘And I thought you were non-violent!’ Twig protests, trying to tug his hand free.
‘But I really want to know!’ I sigh, releasing Twig from my grip.
‘Why?’ Taslima asks, watching me from across the dancing flames. ‘Why do you want to know?’
I think about it for a few minutes. Why do I want to know?
‘I guess I’m curious,’ I say slowly. ‘But I think it’s more than that. I guess I want to say thanks. That video’s what gave me my big break.’
‘Yeah, whoever did it must like you a lot,’ says Taslima.
‘I think they must be a pretty good friend,’ says Cordelia.
And then it clicks. ‘You all know, don’t you! You all know and you’ve kept it from me!’
‘Well, obviously, I know,’ Cordelia smiles secretively, her green eyes sparkling in the firelight. ‘I am psychic, after all!’
‘And I know, because I understand human nature and can reason things out,’ Taslima teases.
‘And I know, cos the person concerned told me,’ Twig adds.
‘And I DON’T know,’ Pip complains drowsily, ‘cos no one ever tells me anything!’
‘So who was it?’ I squeal, frustrated.
‘Guess!’ says Taslima.
‘I’ll give you a clue,’ says Cordelia. ‘The person who did it’s right here.’