Love Song

by Sophia Bennett

  ‘Uh huh,’ Issy said, not mentioning her earlier visit. ‘Like I say, it’s practically my family home. What brings you here?’

  ‘Well …’ Sigrid said, relaxing slightly. ‘I just had to talk to my Jamie. I mean …’ She cast Angus a nervous glance. ‘After that story leaked out about the new Backstage series … they got it all wrong. I had to reassure him.’

  ‘So it isn’t true?’ Angus said sceptically.

  ‘Well, yeah, it is, but it’s gonna be nothing like the last one. I mean, it’s gonna totally protect our privacy this time. No cameras in the bedroom. Nothing he doesn’t want. But I knew my darling Jamie might be worried and I needed to explain …’

  ‘No need to explain,’ Jamie said. He waved away all those reasons for breaking up with her with a single flick of his hand.

  ‘Oh, but there is, baby. As soon as I signed, I had to talk to you. And I tried! But you weren’t in any of the places they said you were. In the end I had Windy checked out. It took a while to find this place, but my guy had a hunch—’

  ‘Which guy?’ Angus probed.

  ‘My private eye guy,’ Sigrid said dismissively. ‘Anyway, he just knew Windy wasn’t visiting a sick old aunt up in Northumbershire, like he said to everyone. They can just tell, you know? So he did some more checks, and we worked out Windy’d hired Wutherington Manor for you, or whatever, and as soon as the director let me off the set, I got the first flight over from Vancouver. I gotta go back tonight, but it’s worth it.’ She turned to Jamie, the full force of her ice-blue gaze focused on his face. ‘Thank God you’re OK. I’ve been so worried about you!’

  Jamie reached out and stroked her soft, downy cheek. ‘I’m fine, babe. Absolutely fine. And don’t worry about Backstage. It’s your career. You do what you need to do.’

  She leant in to him. He met her lips with his. As they kissed, she turned her eyes to look at me, still making sure of her prize. He didn’t give me a single glance.

  All this time I’d been standing at the table, about as significant as a hatstand, wondering what to do with myself.

  It was always going to be bad, but he didn’t have to make it this unbearable. Was he punishing me for last night? Or had he simply forgotten my existence in the sudden light of her presence? I felt as if I was falling down an endless elevator shaft at terminal velocity.

  I told this boy I loved him, and now I’m the girl who walks the dog.

  Orli arrived with the new cafetière. I took it from her and dumped it on the table, hard. Everybody jumped at the sound. I left the room without a word.

  Back in the kitchen, I found Twiggy’s lead and took her on the longest walk of her life. Past the helicopter, whose pilot was stretching his legs, admiring the view of the hills. Round the lake, through the woods and back again. Past the folly, and the sheep and the view of the distant mountains.

  It’s simple, he said.

  It’s simple if your girlfriend isn’t around, and if there’s a willing girl who’s fallen in love with you, and is too stupid to keep her feelings in check, although goodness knows, she tried. It’s simple if you know you’re soon never going to see her again.

  You just tell her what she wants to hear. You write her love songs … and when she becomes inconvenient, you go back to your stunning girlfriend and your real life.

  By now even Twiggy was starting to drag her feet. I looked at my watch. We’d been out for nearly two hours.

  I was distracted by the distant sound of voices, and lingered behind a copse of trees as they all came out together to watch Connor strip to his underwear and jump into the lake. I watched too, from my hiding place, as he ran out again quickly, screaming.

  The others all laughed. Jamie was holding Sigrid’s hand. As Connor raced back towards the house, wet and freezing, the others began to follow him. Then Jamie and Sigrid paused halfway to the house.

  Good place for a Conversation, Jamie.

  Instead, inevitably, their heads moved together. I forced myself to look. His lips lingered on hers. With the silhouette of her helicopter in the background, and his fancy historic mansion. How appropriate.

  I want to go home. Now. Everything is spoilt. She ruins everything she touches. She’s King Midas in reverse, but with the same result: misery.

  I must stop thinking like this. I’m going mad.

  Once they’d all gone back inside, Twiggy and I took the longest route I could think of back to the house, so we wouldn’t bump into anyone.

  The girl who walks the dog.

  Not a girl girl.

  I’d never make that mistake again.

  Back in the kitchen, Orli was pounding at a lump of dough on the table like it needed to be taught a lesson. She looked up as Twiggy took a long, loud drink of water and slunk off to her dog bed.

  ‘You’ve tired her out!’

  ‘Looks like it.’

  ‘I didn’t think that was possible.’

  ‘She’s not as tough as she looks.’

  ‘None of us are,’ Orli sighed. She wiped her hair off her face with the back of her hand. ‘Look, Nina, I’m not sure what’s going on. That … person arrived here this morning and followed me up the stairs when I let her in. I didn’t have time to warn Jamie she was coming.’

  ‘He didn’t look like he needed warning.’

  ‘I know. But give him a chance. I’ve known that boy a long time. There’s something not right.’

  ‘Yeah. I’d noticed,’ I said sharply. I didn’t feel like conversation. ‘Where are they now?’

  ‘In the truck. Listening to the tapes.’

  ‘I’ll be in the garden. I have things to do.’

  At least I knew, after years of experience, the best way to deal with these feelings. Which is to block them out. Get on with things. Make something. Grow something.

  I went out to the walled garden this time, grabbing my tools from the greenhouse and setting to work pulling weeds, fixing poles, carefully attaching the spiralling tendrils of emerging beans and sweet peas to their tepee frames, getting my hands dirty.

  I thought about Dad. How much he’d love this place. Especially with someone like Ed around to talk solder and valves and amplification issues. The twins would spend all day running in this garden, looking for sparkly unicorns. Ariel would be stretched out in the sun on the front lawn, listening to music and writing letters to her friends, while Josh watched his favourite shows on the ancient TV inside. Michael would pour trumpet music through the windows and Mum would stand near the lake, thinking of Aunt Cassie, and wishing she could be here, the way I wanted them all now.

  Jamie, Angus, Connor and Declan would be … absolutely nowhere. They’d be gone. They’d be far away, getting married on a beach. Playing cowboys. Singing to a million screaming fans. Picking up supermodels. Telling the world their so-called favourite breakfast food. Breaking rules and hearts and leaving the scattered pieces in their wake. Because that’s what rock stars do. It’s their job. It’s how they get where they are.

  When I finally came back inside, I could hear voices in the drawing room. I knew I should be brave and say hi, but instead I sprinted to my room and pressed my hot forehead against the cool glass of the windowpanes.

  On the front lawn, the pilot was sitting in the helicopter, looking like he was ready to go. Sigrid and Jamie walked out and lingered nearby. She stood on tiptoe and wound her arms around him.

  This time I should really look away. I couldn’t.

  I sank down the window as I watched him kiss her yet again. His hand was wrapped around the back of her neck, the way he’d held me when we danced last night. The kiss was long and slow.

  The last time this happened to me, ‘Eden’ was playing in the background. This time, there was silence. At least another decent song wouldn’t be ruined for ever.

  ‘It was a game, Nina! It was all a lie!’

  ‘Nina! Nina! You’ve got to believe us!’

  Two voices outside my door. Issy and Angus.

  I felt groggy. I
must have been asleep. The last thing I remembered was Jamie knocking and pleading for me to let him in.

  Like that was going to happen.

  He was there for a long time and at some point I must have drifted off. It was dark now. I’d been sleeping for quite a while.

  ‘Open the door, Nina! Please!’ Issy sounded desperate.

  ‘No. Go away.’

  ‘Oh, thank God you’re awake! I’ve got to drive back soon, but please believe us.’

  They wouldn’t leave me alone.

  I went to sit near the door and rested my aching head against it. ‘You just said you lied,’ I muttered.

  ‘To her. To Sigrid.’

  ‘You do get it, don’t you?’ Angus said.

  ‘We thought you were brilliant. Oh, do open up, Nina, please!’

  I opened the door a crack. Connor was in the corridor too, leaning gracefully against a doorway. Declan stood at Angus’s shoulder, looking concerned. Jamie hovered in the shadows, pale as a ghost.

  It was horrible, I felt claustrophobic with them all so close, staring at me. I grabbed the dressing gown and threw it round my shoulders, pushing past them and running down the wrong stairs, having to leap across the gaping hole.

  ‘We thought you knew what we were doing,’ Issy called out, following me.

  ‘If she knew about you, she’d never have left us alone,’ Angus said, from close behind. Could nobody take a hint? Not even him? I did. Not. Want. To talk about Sigrid Santorini.

  Jamie outran them both. He caught up with me at the bottom of the stairs and put his arms around me.

  ‘Please, Nina, please!’

  My voice came from the bottom of a deep, dark well. ‘Let me go.’

  They all clattered down the corridor behind me as I ran into the Silk Room and shut the door, shoving the rocking horse against it and sitting with my back to it.

  ‘She caught me off guard. I didn’t have time to think,’ Jamie shouted through the keyhole, sounding desperate. ‘I just wanted to get rid of her. It seemed the easiest way.’

  I hugged my knees and dug my nails into the palms of my hands. Funny how kissing a beautiful girl can seem the easiest way. If you’re Jamie Maldon.

  ‘How about telling her the truth?’ I muttered.

  If it was the truth. I didn’t know anything any more. And the piece of me that cared was broken.

  ‘Then she’d have stayed for ever.’

  ‘We all knew it,’ Connor called out, backing him up. ‘She’d have tried to get him back. And you know what she’s like. Nobody wanted her here. Jamie didn’t even have to explain what he was doing. We just went along with it.’

  Tears poured down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop them. I didn’t try.

  They took it in turns to call through the door. She was clever, they said. And suspicious. (Which was true.) She’d have noticed if any of them hadn’t played the game. They thought I played my part brilliantly, staying out of her way, behaving like the servant she wanted me to be.

  Now they wanted to erase the last twelve hours and go back to exactly where we were last night. Or the part of last night, they implied, before I stormed off upstairs for no good reason.

  But as it turned out, I’d had a very good reason. She had arrived by helicopter a few hours later. He had cooed over her coffee cup while my body and soul were vaporized two metres from his half-turned back.

  ‘Look, I panicked. I’m sorry,’ he said.

  ‘We should have told you but we didn’t have time,’ Issy echoed. Please believe us.’

  And, do you know what? I did. Eventually. Kind of.

  The boys might lie to me, but I didn’t think Issy would. Also, the story made its own strange kind of sense. Sigrid was clearly still obsessed with Jamie. She would have fought for him, if she thought she had to. They all seemed relieved that she wasn’t here any longer.

  I believed them, but it was too late.

  I was back to being the girl who made pictures and walked the dog. My heart was an armoured snitch. I always knew that loving Jamie would hurt, and I’d tried it, and within twelve hours it had destroyed me. He was a star and I was just a little asteroid that burnt up as soon as I got too close. I couldn’t put myself through that again.

  No more Nina 2.0. I was done.

  When they finally left me alone, I found Orli and told her to call Windy.

  ‘I just need to get out of here. Now.’

  The manager had said once that he was used to solving major problems before breakfast. Even though it was after midnight, it took his office less than an hour to get me on the next flight from Newcastle to London, and to book a car to take me to the airport in the morning. They didn’t ask any questions. Either they didn’t want to know, or Orli had already explained. As long as I didn’t have to talk about it myself any more than was strictly necessary, I didn’t care.

  ‘This is for the journey,’ Orli said as she handed me a package wrapped in a tea towel. I stood next to the taxi and thought of the boys inside – hiding, as usual, so the driver wouldn’t see them. The Point was all about running and hiding.

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, trying and failing to smile as I climbed into the back seat. The car was a Skoda Octavia, I noticed. Dad had always had a surprising soft spot for Skodas, despite their absolute lack of cool. There was a distinct absence of helicopters this time.

  Orli and Sam waved from the drive as I drove past the procession of cedar trees and out of sight of the Hall for ever. High above, a bird of prey hovered in the cloudless sky. For once, it wasn’t raining.

  Even so, I felt the dampness on my cheeks and wiped it quickly away. This was it. The dream had ended, as I knew it must. It didn’t make it any easier, though.

  Angus had kissed me on the lips and muttered ‘Miss you, Leena’, as he said goodbye. Jamie had simply said ‘I love you,’ very quietly, so only I could hear it. I wanted to hit something.

  Once I’d gathered myself, I opened the tea towel to find a tin filled with singin’ hinnies to keep me going. Suddenly the car smelt of currants and freshly-baked dough. The memories of our fancy tea-times flooded through me.

  ‘You look a bit down, pet. Want some music?’ the taxi driver asked. Without waiting for an answer, he turned the dial on his radio to the nearest music channel. They were playing ‘Amethyst’.

  Funny, that.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I said, wishing I had a gun so I could shoot the radio. ‘I’ll just watch the scenery, if that’s OK.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ he shrugged, turning it off again.

  We drove on in silence for a while.

  ‘No, I’ve changed my mind. Please turn it on again.’

  I’d just inspired a whole album of break-up songs, I realized. It would probably be launched sometime in the next few months. I was going to have to learn to cope better than this.

  By the time I got back to school, I’d missed the first two weeks of the new term. I told everyone it was glandular fever. I had a lot of English to catch up on, but at least my art A level was well on track. Windy asked if they could use my mural and a section of my photos for their album cover and publicity. I said yes. Why not? It helps your art school applications when your main project is the artwork for a bestselling band.

  The story I told my art teacher was that I’d visited them for a couple of days through a connection of my sister’s while I was off sick. And that’s the story I told myself too: I’d been off sick. I was better now.

  Tammy didn’t know what to think.

  ‘Either he’s an evil, two-timing, cheating slimeball, or they were telling you the truth that night, in which case you’re the one being totally unfair. I can’t decide.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter anyway,’ I pointed out.

  Jamie was in a recording studio in LA, finishing off the final tracks. There’d been no news of a break-up, so Sigrid was probably there with him, sorting out real estate. She would make him unhappy one day, but that wasn’t my problem now.

 
Mum gave me lots of work at the salon at weekends, which I was grateful for, because it kept my mind off things. Meanwhile, Ariel often took charge of the twins at home these days. She’d stepped into my shoes while I was away.

  Ariel was older, taller, wiser. Her short, bobbed hair was pink from roots to tip, because she liked it that way. She had a new friend called Maddie, who didn’t like The Point, and that was one of Ariel’s favourite things about her. Even though I didn’t tell her much about what had happened, she could tell the second trip had been a worse disaster than the first. She hated them for my sake, and though I was training myself not to care, not having to listen to their music daily made life a little easier.

  Dad was fascinated by stories of Ed and the mobile studio. He wanted me to tell him everything I could remember about it, and I realized he’d missed his calling – instead of being a handyman, he should have been a sound tech for a band. I thought he’d be horrified when he realized I’d been practically on my own all that time with a bunch of rock stars, but he just looked into my eyes and said, ‘As long as you’re OK, love, that’s all that matters.’

  And I was OK. So everything was fine.

  The fifth of November was my eighteenth birthday. Bonfire night. Free fireworks, courtesy of the council. Tammy threw a fancy-dress party for me and I danced the night away with friends, wearing a unicorn onesie with extra sparkles. I could be a party girl, no problem. I didn’t even flinch when certain songs were played.

  That morning, a letter had arrived for me, along with three dozen pink roses. Two blooms for each year of my life. The envelope was in Jamie’s handwriting. I recognized it from his scribbled lyrics, like the ones I’d used in the collages when Sigrid fired me, and the ones on the songs he’d written for me.

  I didn’t open it.

  The term came and went. I finished all my coursework and went to some more parties. Nobody would know there had ever been anything wrong. Anyway, they were all too busy commiserating with Clemmie since Jez had left her for a girl he met on a tour of Oxford colleges to care much about what had happened to me over the summer.