Love Song

by Sophia Bennett

  ‘Check what?’

  ‘That Sigrid’s … really looking after him. I mean, I’m sure she is, but … I just want to be super-sure. That it’s true love, and they’re going to be happy for the rest of their lives.’

  ‘Ariel,’ I said gently, reaching out to stroke her hair where the blonde met the blue, ‘this is not one of Sigrid’s rom-coms. I mean, not everyone gets a happy ever after every time.’

  ‘Mum and Dad did.’

  Typical, helium-balloon Ariel. Her thoughts floated straight to our parents, who’ve always been stupidly happy together, and past Aunt Cassie, for example, who had a string of boyfriends who were horrible to her. Past me and the boy next door.

  ‘Mum and Dad were lucky,’ I pointed out.

  ‘Jamie must be lucky too,’ she said, her eyes ablaze. ‘He’s changed my life. I need it to be perfect for him.’

  Oh boy. I didn’t pretend to know the future, but this girl was going to get her heart broken so badly one day. It made mine hurt just thinking about it. First by proxy, when Jamie Maldon messed up his love life, as he inevitably would. (Teenage rock star; engaged way too soon; tragedy inevitable.) Then directly, when some ordinary boy would break it in some ordinary way, because that’s what they do.

  ‘Even if I went with the band,’ I said, ‘I couldn’t protect him.’

  ‘I don’t want you to. Just keep an eye out for him. Please, Neenie.’

  ‘It’s not my decision anyway. Mum and Dad would never let me go.’

  Ta-dah!

  Why hadn’t I thought of that before? I’d been wasting my breath trying to reason with her, when Mum and Dad could simply do it for me. I mean, what parent lets their seventeen-year-old daughter go travelling with a rock band?

  ‘Over my dead body. I was in a band once myself, don’t forget. I know exactly what they get up to. Never in a million years.’

  God, I loved Dad.

  ‘You’re right, Bill, obviously,’ Mum agreed, as she went through work stuff on her laptop, while Dad washed up the twins’ tea things.

  Yesssss!

  I’d saved this conversation until she was home from the salon. I thought it would be kinder if we presented a united front to Ariel: all three of us – not just me.

  ‘Although,’ Mum added, looking up from the screen with a mischievous look in her eye, ‘as I remember, the way you originally told it, you weren’t in the Massive Kegs. You just helped them shift their kit around.’

  ‘Well, that’s technically true,’ Dad agreed sniffily, wiping bubbles on his nose. ‘But, you know, we were all in it together.’

  ‘I’m sure you were. Touring Europe. In those little camper vans. I still don’t understand how you all fitted in.’

  ‘Neither do I,’ Dad said with a nostalgic grin. ‘We were all huge. Nobody under six foot two, except Danny on bass, who was about the same height as you, Nina. The Midget, we called him. Midge.’

  ‘Charming.’

  ‘I usually slept on the floor, between the bunks. On a couple of guitar cases. With a Marshall amp for my pillow …’

  ‘Where did you go?’ I asked. Dad had told stories from his roadie days many times, but they usually revolved around technical issues that he had brilliantly fixed, not the bigger picture.

  ‘South of France. Italy. Greece. Croatia. Anywhere with beaches and beer. All those nights we’d sit on the sand dunes, chatting up strapping Danish girls in bikinis, while Dave and Midge played guitar. Those were the—’ He caught himself fondly reminiscing, then remembered why we were having this conversation, and stopped short. ‘Long time ago,’ he muttered. ‘Different times. And those Danish girls got up to things I don’t want my daughter even thinking about.’

  Mum caught my eye and hid a smile. I had a nasty feeling she knew exactly what daughters think about. Whether their dads want them to or not.

  ‘And how old were you again?’ she asked, oh-so-casually. I wondered where she was going with this. Something was starting to make my skin prickle, and I wasn’t sure why.

  ‘Nineteen … twenty? I’d just finished my apprenticeship. I met you, what, a year later?’

  ‘That’s about right, she said, closing her laptop and looking wistful. ‘I planned to go to Morocco with Cassie, remember? She had friends there. It sounded so exotic. Camel trekking in the desert. Shopping in the souk … We had this whole trip organized. But then, well, I met you, and Nina came along. Then Michael. Then Ariel. Which of course I don’t regret for a moment. But I never did go to Africa.’

  She gazed dreamily out of the window. Nobody said anything. It was becoming increasingly obvious where Mum was going with this. And where she was going was weird.

  Dad turned his back on the soapy water, wiped his hands on a tea towel and scratched the back of his neck.

  ‘What are you saying, love? Surely you don’t want Nina to …? I mean … surely …?’

  Mum looked from Dad to Ariel to me, and took a deep breath.

  ‘You’ll think I’m mad. If it was any of my other children, I’d say no. But Nina … well, I wish I could worry about you a little, sweetheart. You’re the most sensible person I know. Which is lovely, but … you need to get out. You need to breathe.’

  ‘Not surrounded by rock-star love gods!’ Dad protested.

  ‘Nina would be fine with rock-star love gods,’ Mum retorted. ‘She doesn’t even find them remotely attractive. Do you, Nina?’

  ‘No,’ I shrugged. Which wasn’t exactly true. I mean, I’m a straight human female. I found them attractive, obviously. I just didn’t obsess about them like my sister.

  ‘She’s a sensible girl. And this is a tour we’re talking about, not an orgy.’

  Dad huffed. ‘In the music biz, there’s not necessarily much difference.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be silly. And she’d get to see Paris. And Berlin. She’s always wanted to travel. She’s got the same bug as Cassie and me. You got it out of your system, but I didn’t. And Cassie …’

  Her eyes flicked spontaneously to the picture of two freckled girls in sunhats on a beach, with their arms around each other’s shoulders, squinting shyly into the camera. Mum was eleven when it was taken, and Cassie was seven. The same age difference as between Ariel and me. They fought all the time and they were ‘as close as Velcro’, Mum always said.

  ‘What’s that thing with the fish?’ she asked, frowning at Dad.

  ‘What?’

  ‘A saying. With a fishy name. Cassie’s thing. You know.’

  ‘Cod? Mackerel? Goldfish? Koi?’ Dad suggested, looking baffled.

  ‘Carp – that’s it. Carpe diem. Seize the day, Nina. That’s what your aunt used to say. She had it tattooed on her ankle.’

  Mum’s eyes drifted down to my collarbone, where my ‘J’ was safely hidden under my shirt, and gave me a kindly smile. She’d never minded about the tattoo as much as I’d expected her to. Maybe it was because Cassie died so soon after, and we had more important things to think about. Then she pushed my fringe out of my eyes with gentle fingers.

  ‘You used to have a sparkle in your eye, my love. I miss it. If this Mr Windermere can sort out your exams, then let him. How glamorous is that? God knows you’ve revised enough this year. Go and have some fun. See the sights. Live a little. Find out if there’s any Berlin Wall left. Go and see Juliet’s balcony in Verona, and tell me if it’s incredibly disappointing, like they say it is.’

  This was worse than useless. Sometimes I forgot that Mum fell in love with Dad about two weeks after she met him, and was pregnant with me soon after. She was an unpredictable mix of practical and impulsive – never regretting the things she did do, only the ones she didn’t. Though getting pregnant with me so young meant there was a stack of things she didn’t do.

  My last hope for anyone with a grain of common sense was Tammy. To be honest, Tammy and common sense didn’t always fit in the same sentence, but surely she would understand how mad this idea sounded? She was ‘revising’ with her boyfriend that night,
but I grabbed her over a coffee in the sixth-form common room the next morning.

  ‘I mean, why did Sigrid pick on me? What schoolgirl’s going to skip off during the exam season to go touring with The Point?’

  I realized that didn’t sound right as soon as it came out of my mouth.

  ‘Any schoolgirl!’ Tammy exploded, spraying cappuccino everywhere. ‘Any single one. Me. Anyone in our year. Are you crazy?’

  ‘No. Sigrid Santorini is. Have you seen her on that show?’

  ‘She’s mad as a box of frogs,’ Tammy conceded, ‘but did you get the other bit? She’s going on tour. With The Point. She wants you to travel with them.’ She said the last bit very slowly, like she was explaining it to one of the twins.

  This was Mum all over again, but louder, and with coffee froth.

  ‘I can’t just drop everything. I have exams. Mum needs me to help at home. I have a life!’

  Tammy shook her curls at me.

  ‘You don’t have a life,’ she said. ‘You haven’t had a life for over a year, Nina Baxter, and you know it.’

  ‘That’s not fair!’

  ‘It is, and somebody has to say it. I know you’re over Jez, but I keep telling you to get back on the horse again, and you never do.’

  ‘“Getting on the horse again”, as you so delicately put it, doesn’t have to involve mixing with a bunch of smug rock-star millionaires and their film-star fiancées.’

  ‘You lost me at “millionaires”, babe. What better way could there possibly be? I can’t believe I’m even having to point this out to you. Go! And if the pressures of fame mean Jamie and Sigrid split up while he’s touring … you know … you can invite me over. I can help him overcome his devastating loss. I’m very spiritual that way.’

  She did her ‘spiritual’ face, like a smoky-eyed nun, praying. It made me laugh so hard I started to hiccup.

  ‘You mock me,’ she said. ‘But believe me, I could comfort that boy. I could totally comfort him.’

  ‘I’m sure you could.’

  ‘Oh, speaking of. Here he is.’

  ‘Jamie Maldon?’

  ‘No, idiot. Jez. With Clementine. Act natural.’

  ‘Don’t tell them about—’

  But before I could finish, my ex and his latest, leggy girlfriend were wandering over to say hello. Since me, Jez had worked his way through half the girls in our year, and some in the year above. Clementine was a showjumping grade-A student who occasionally modelled for her father’s sportswear business. They paused in front of us, Jez’s arm slung casually around her shoulder.

  Tammy bristled all over, like a flame-haired porcupine.

  ‘How’s it going?’ Jez asked. ‘You two look as if you’re having fun. Anything you can share?’

  ‘No,’ I informed him coldly.

  Tammy looked him up and down. She was one of the few girls the boys all lusted after not to have gone out with him. (Out of loyalty to me – even Tammy admitted he was hot.)

  ‘Yeah, actually,’ she said. I gave her my don’t-go-there glare. But she ignored me. ‘Nina’s been invited to go touring around Europe. With—’

  ‘Oh, has she?’ Clementine butted in, with a sickly-sweet smile. ‘That’s such a coincidence. That’s what we’re going to do, as soon as the exams are over. Well, not Europe, exactly. Asia. My dad’s taking us to Nepal. We’re going trekking in the Himalayas, then visiting a wildlife reserve in the jungle … We might even get to Bhutan. It was all Jez’s idea.’

  Oh, was it? My chest felt tight. The Himalayas? Really? Bhutan? He wasn’t so keen three years ago. He’d changed his tune now.

  ‘Yeah, we’re in luck,’ Jez grinned. ‘Clem’s dad’s sold his company, so he’s taking the whole family. We’re going on an elephant safari and we might even get to work with some of the animals in the reserve.’

  ‘Nepal’s so cool,’ Clementine chimed in, wrapping a possessive arm around his waist. ‘And it’ll help with our applications to vet school. They’re so competitive.’

  Her smile was the perfect combination of smugness and pity. She knew I’d crashed my GCSEs after the last break-up.

  ‘Oh, so you’re going on holiday with your dad. How lovely,’ Tammy deadpanned. She paused for a beat. ‘Nina’s going on tour with The Point.’

  Silence. Perfect silence. Every conversation in the room seemed to stop. Clementine gawped at me. Suddenly, the Himalayas didn’t seem quite so tall.

  ‘As in the band?’ Jez asked, eventually.

  ‘No, the breakfast cereal. Of course the band,’ Tammy snapped.

  ‘But … I didn’t think … you liked them,’ he said, staring at me.

  He’d taken no interest in me for months. How would he even know?

  Tammy nudged me.

  ‘Big fan,’ I said, looking him squarely in the eye. ‘Love them.’

  ‘We saw them at the O2, of course,’ Clementine announced, recovering her composure. ‘Dad managed to get us front-row seats. We were so close we could nearly touch them. How many shows are you going to?’

  ‘I don’t think you get it,’ Tammy said, cutting across me. ‘Nina’s not going to see the band, she’s travelling with them. In their entourage. She’ll be touching them every day, I imagine.’

  ‘But how—?’

  ‘She saved the life of Jamie’s fiancée,’ Tammy said airily. ‘Didn’t you hear? You know what Nina’s like. They want her to start as soon as possible, so she might have to fly back for exams. It’ll be such a bore.’ She flicked a superior glance at Clementine, who was doing a reasonable impression of a goldfish. Or possibly a carp.

  By now, four more sixth-formers had clustered around to listen, and others were heading over. For once, they were looking at me with curiosity, not pity. I began to imagine Nina Baxter 2.0. I could be ‘the girl who went to Paris with The Point’, not ‘the girl who went to pieces’. I’d no longer be defined by Trek Boy, and that moment couldn’t come too soon. I’d moved on ages ago, but nobody had noticed.

  ‘It’s the opportunity of a lifetime,’ I quoted. Oh my God. I was actually doing this.

  Tammy’s face was one big, satisfied smile.

  ‘You win,’ I mouthed to her when nobody was looking.

  Her smile grew wider. ‘I know.’

  Tricky issue: now I somehow had to persuade Dad to let me go.

  ‘I’ll sort it out,’ Rory Windermere said when I called him.

  ‘I don’t think it’ll be as easy as that,’ I warned him. ‘Dad’s been in a band. He knows what it’s like. And he seems to think I’ll be in …’ Danger, I wanted to say. But it sounded so ridiculous.

  ‘Over your head?’ the manager suggested. ‘Don’t worry. You won’t be. And they’ll look after you, trust me.’

  Meanwhile, I looked up the details of the Right On Target tour. So far this year, The Point had already visited Australia, New Zealand, the Philippines and Japan, and most of the major stadiums in the UK. Before that, they’d travelled around South America and done dozens of gigs across the States. They’d been on the move for about two years, it seemed.

  At the moment, they were in Scandinavia and they still had a month of other European dates to do. Lisbon, Barcelona, Paris, then Switzerland … As Rory Windermere had mentioned, they were even heading back across the Atlantic for one night only, to perform at Madison Square Garden in New York. Apparently, it was their favourite venue, and they’d take any opportunity they could to play it. The more I researched, the more travelling with them didn’t seem like such a bad idea after all.

  Dad got an email from a man called Steve Grange, who was The Point’s tour manager, in charge of all the logistics while they travelled the world. He assured Dad that I’d be looked after. I’d travel with the band, not the crew. Sigrid didn’t drink, and would make sure I didn’t either. Everything I needed would be provided for.

  Steve described the tour itself and it sounded nothing like the Massive Kegs and the camper van. The Point visited capital cities and stayed in the
best hotels. For as long as I could remember, I’d wanted to get out of Croydon and see the world. What better chance would there ever be? True, it wasn’t the Himalayas, but it was Paris, New York, Berlin … I pictured myself ordering frites in French cafes, and finally seeing the wonders of the Metropolitan Museum. Mum said I’d got my sparkle back, and though it was the cheesiest line I’d ever heard, I kind of knew what she was getting at.

  ‘All right,’ Dad sighed, finally broken. ‘If you really want to, you can go.’

  ‘What would you have done?’ I asked. ‘If you were me?’

  ‘I’d be there now,’ he admitted, his lips twitching. ‘I’d have sneaked out and joined the tour the first minute I could. What – miss a chance like that?’ He shook his head. ‘D’you think I’m mad?’

  *

  It was arranged that I’d join the band in Barcelona, after my art exam. Ariel hugged me tight in the hallway as Dad waited to take me to the airport. She looked up at me with mournful eyes.

  ‘You’ll be gentle with Jamie, won’t you?’

  ‘Lellie! I doubt I’ll even get close to him!’

  She ignored my protests. ‘He’s had a really hard life, you know? His dad left home when he was young and his mum was an addict. He had to look after her when he was growing up. It’s why he doesn’t drink or do drugs. Nor does Angus. He looks like he’s got it all, but he’s really vulnerable inside.’

  ‘Vulnerable. Got it.’

  ‘And Angus’s dark moods are just an act. You should see the way he smiles … but he’s had a tough time too. His dad … well, I don’t know the details, but Angus doesn’t like to talk about it, so that’s got to be bad, right? And he’s just split up from his girlfriend. It was painful.’

  ‘You want me to be gentle with him as well?’

  She nodded seriously. I promised I would be gentle with the world-famous rock stars with film-star fiancées and millions of screaming fans, and Ariel thanked me with zero sense of irony.