by Mel Sparke
“No, she’s not even here. I came with her flatmates,” Joe explained.
“What - my boyfriend’s swanning around London’s hot spots with a bunch of gorgeous models he hardly knows?!”
Some girls might have said those same words with quite a different meaning behind them, but Meg spoke with obvious amusement. Joe felt a pang of shame; not so long ago, he’d found himself getting unreasonably jealous if Meg so much as chatted to one of his male friends and now, here she was, being absolutely cool about the situation her boyfriend had found himself in.
At that moment, Joe realised just how much he loved and trusted Meg, and how much she loved and trusted him back.
“You don’t have to worry,” he assured her, although he could tell by her voice that she didn’t need assurance. “I don’t think I’m in danger of any of them fancying me. I think they think I’m cute, like a gerbil or something.”
“And how’s my little gerbil getting on with his flat-hunting?” she teased.
“Good! I mean, it was bad - until about an hour ago!”
“What do you mean?” asked Meg, confused.
“Well, today was bad - everything I went to see had either already gone or was awful,” he explained, remembering one overpriced cupboard he’d seen with damp, black mould growing on its walls. Setting up home in the back seat of his Fiat would have been better than that.
“So what happened to make it good?” asked Meg.
“One of Tasha’s flatmates knows a guy looking for someone to share with. He’s a photographer’s assistant, and he sounds OK - I spoke to him on the phone a little while ago. I’m going round to check out his place tomorrow morning!”
“Brilliant!” exclaimed Meg, just as the beeps let them know that Joe’s money was running out. “Listen - I’m glad it’s working out. And I’m glad you’re having fun! I love—”
The line went dead, leaving Joe holding a burring receiver. Meg was right - he was having fun, despite his initial nerves and awkwardness. Apart from the promise of a flat, there’d been the star-spotting, and the girls’ endless funny stories of their modelling exploits. Bee had explained her unusual name to him (“It’s Beverley, but my agency are a bunch of snobs and thought Beverley was too naff!”), and they’d got the whole story out of him about being in a band - they’d even forced him to push the sleeves of his T-shirt up so they could coo over his impressive drummer’s biceps.
It was funny, Joe realised. If dark and handsome Matt, or Ollie - all cute, scruffy looks and easy patter - had been there at this precise moment, Joe would probably never have got to know these three girls so well. And the same went for Billy with his boundless confidence, as well as Andy, who benefited from the fact that plenty of girls felt comfortable having a gay male friend.
It’s like I’ve been living in their shadow, Joe suddenly realised. But down here in London - people only know me!
Joe grinned to himself. He only wished he had a camera on him tonight, so someone could take his photo in this hip place, surrounded by his very attractive new friends. Otherwise, back in Winstead, he might think that the whole thing was some weird and wonderful dream.
CHAPTER 13
WANTED: DRUMMER. WEIRDOS NEED NOT APPLY
Kerry hesitated for a second, checking her watch and listening for the sound of any music coming from the other side of the door. But there was no music - only the sound of boys’ chattering voices.
The auditions must be finished, she thought, feeling confident enough to push the door open, now that she wasn’t about to interrupt anything.
“Hi!” she smiled, peering into the large back room of The Swan pub.
“Hey, Kez!” grinned Ollie, his face lighting up. “Fancy trying out to be our new drummer?”
Kerry took in the expressions on the other lads’ faces. By the look of it, the auditions hadn’t been a roaring success. “Didn’t anyone turn up?” she asked, walking across the parquet flooring towards Ollie, Billy and Andy, who’d set up in the middle of the room, along with Joe’s drum kit.
“Yeah - we had four guys show up. None of them were right, though,” shrugged Ollie.
“Why not? What was wrong with them?” Kerry quizzed her boyfriend.
“Well, the first one was into heavy metal,” Ollie began, “and he played the drums so loudly that he drowned the rest of us out.”
“Then the second bloke was just a weirdo,” Billy pointed out. “He said nothing; just sort of growled at us and looked well hacked off. I mean he could play OK, but—”
“—we were scared he’d turn into an axe murderer in the dressing room!” laughed Andy, although he didn’t look entirely comfortable at the memory of the lad in question.
“Then there was that old guy,” Billy recounted. “He could play all right too!”
“Yeah, but he was old enough to be our dad!” Ollie grinned. “I know it’s age-ist, but we’ve got our image to think of. He’d’ve looked a bit too good in one of those checked shirts of Cyndi’s!”
“And that last one… I know snails with better rhythm than that bloke!” grimaced Matt, who - as sound engineer for The Loud, unofficial fifth member of the band and delivery man for Joe’s drums - had sat in on the auditions.
“So what are you going to do?” asked Kerry.
“We’re going to hold Joe hostage and not let him go to London,” Ollie told her, completely straight-faced.
“Yeah, we’re going to keep him tied up in the dressing room in the Railway Tavern and only let him out to play our Thursday night slot!” Billy joined in.
Kerry rubbed Ollie on the arm - for all the fooling around she knew he must be starting to get worried about what was going to happen with the band. Working for his uncle in the café and the record shop was just his day job to pay the bills. Playing with The Loud was where his heart really lay.
“Anyhow, what are you doing here, Kez?” Ollie asked her, trying to sound cheerful. “I thought you were going round to Sonja’s after work tonight?”
“Yes, I did,” she nodded, “but then Sonja finally decided she should tell her mum and dad about Owen and I didn’t fancy sticking around for that.”
“What about him?” frowned Matt. “They’ve been going out for long enough - what’s to tell?”
“It’s just that she still hasn’t got round to letting them know she’s moving in with Owen when she goes to uni,” Kerry explained. “They think she’s applied for halls of residence and she hasn’t got round to setting them straight!”
“Ah…” mumbled Matt, wincing at the notion of the difficult conversation that might be going on as they spoke.
“But aren’t her parents really laid-back?” asked Billy, remembering various conversations where Maya and Kerry in particular had been superenvious of Sonja’s mum and dad’s relaxed attitude; they both had to live by fairly strict rules and regulations themselves.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean they’re exactly going to whoop for joy when they hear her plans,” shrugged Kerry. “I think they wanted her to go into halls and have fun, as well as concentrating on her course. I don’t think the idea of her getting all couply and moving straight from home into a flat with her boyfriend is going to please them too much.”
“Hey, Kez - could you imagine if we told your parents we were moving in together?” Ollie teased her.
“I think my mum would cry for a week and then refuse to speak to me for the next millennium!” said Kerry, rolling her eyes at the very thought. Her mother hadn’t even approved of Kerry and Ollie going on holiday together at the beginning of the summer.
“Listen, Kez,” said Ollie, sobering up, “we’ll be about twenty minutes dismantling all our gear - which’ll be pretty boring for you. Why don’t you go upstairs to the flat and watch MTV or something?”
“Sure,” shrugged Kerry, warming to the idea of lounging around in front of satellite TV, which she didn’t have at home. “See you in a bit then. And see you guys later!”
With the boys’ g
oodbyes still ringing in her ears, Kerry pulled at the set of doors that would take her through to the bustling pub. Another quick hello to Ollie’s mum and dad (she’d already said hi on her way in), and she could scoot behind the bar and disappear up the internal stairs that led to the flat above the pub.
But as she approached the bar, she hesitated. Ollie’s dad was pointing in the direction of the back room, while scooping empty glasses off a table. A girl in a battered leather jacket was nodding, the diamante stud in her nose twinkling as she did so.
Where do I know her from? Kerry wondered, doing a quick mental flick through the filing cards in her mind.
“Ah, Kerry!” said Stuart Stanton, his eyes settling on her. “Here’s someone else who wants to audition for the lads. They haven’t packed up yet, have they?”
“Er, no…” mumbled Kerry, feeling slightly unsettled by the stare she was getting from the all too familiar girl.
“Hi, Kerry,” said the girl, with an unsmiling expression on her face. “Remember me? I’m Astrid. I used to fancy your boyfriend.”
Kerry’s stomach vaulted to somewhere in the region of her lungs. It looked like the growly guy who had come in earlier wasn’t the only weirdo they were going to encounter this evening.
Stalker Girl was back…
CHAPTER 14
INTERVIEW WITH A VAMP
Ollie caught Andy’s eye.
“She’s good!” Andy mouthed back.
Ollie knew it. He watched as Astrid - dressed in an old Nike T-shirt and faded black army trousers - sat intently hunched over the drum kit, all her energy poured into thundering her way through an old Loud track.
There was no doubt about it: she was head and shoulders above everyone else who’d auditioned that night. And she had the advantage of already knowing a sizeable chunk of the band’s songs really well.
All the others who’d turned up had just hammered out a few drum solos, while the boys tried to join in on their guitars; whereas Astrid had immediately suggested playing along with a couple of their songs.
Ollie flicked his gaze at Billy to see what he thought. Billy gave him a quick nod, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. He was impressed too.
“That was… um… great, Astrid,” Ollie acknowledged as the last bars of the song ended. As he spoke, Ollie could feel there was something strange about his face - plain, old-fashioned shock had contorted his muscles so he looked like a spooked caricature of himself. Still, that was only to be expected. After all, it wasn’t every day that your ex-stalker auditions to join your band.
“I know,” said Astrid, straight-faced.
She got up from behind the drum kit and pulled on her oversized leather jacket.
“Well, we’ve got a few people still to see, so I guess we’ll let you know…” Ollie said, trying to sound professional.
None of the other lads had said anything since the moment Astrid had walked through the door with Kerry and asked to try out for them. Kerry too - sitting at the side of the room instead of watching MTV as she’d planned - was saying nothing.
“Look,” Astrid announced suddenly, running a bony white hand through her short spikes of black hair. “I know you all think I’m a nutter—”
She paused momentarily, but no one was about to jump in and contradict her.
“—but I’m not. I’ve changed. I don’t trail bands any more. I don’t get hung up on lead singers. I’m over all that obsession stuff.”
Ollie gulped. There was something unsettling about looking at the girl’s intense face and hearing her state something so frankly like that.
Astrid wasn’t a particularly pleasant memory for Ollie: she had turned from an enthusiastic fan of The Loud to crazed obsessive, acting like she expected to be Ollie’s next girlfriend - even though a) Ollie was already going out with Kerry and b) he’d never given her the slightest encouragement. And the way Astrid had followed him around, giving him little presents and messages had gone beyond a joke - it got quite spooky. The nickname Stalker Girl had suited her very well indeed.
The situation had been further complicated when they found out that Astrid’s dad was Derek, who ran the Railway Tavern. Ollie had found it hard to tell the bloke who hired the band that his daughter was seriously freaking him out.
Luckily, Astrid had got bored with the band (and Ollie) as quickly as she’d become obsessed. The lads had heard and seen nothing more of her - assuming she’d moved on to another unsuspecting group.
“I’ve got this new mate at college,” Astrid continued. “She’s studying psychology.”
Ollie gulped again. Where was this going? With Astrid, it was hard to tell.
“I’ve spoken to her about a lot of stuff in my life. And she told me I was confusing attraction for people in bands with my love of music,” Astrid announced matter-of-factly. “She told me I should try learning to play an instrument - get into music myself. So I took up the drums and I love it - and it’s a great way of getting rid of my pent-up aggression, y’know?” she added, fixing Ollie with a dark-eyed stare that cut through him like a laser beam.
Ollie gulped, then nodded and managed a smile. Maybe Astrid had changed, and maybe he’d never have to worry about her trailing him and leaving him presents again, but this odd girl still managed to freak him out.
“So there you go,” shrugged Astrid, having laid all her cards on the table. “Call me to tell me one way or the other, yeah?” She held out a torn piece of paper which Ollie took tentatively, then she walked to the door.
Turning back before leaving, she treated them all to another penetrating stare. “I’d be good…” And then she was gone.
Ollie sighed silently to himself when he saw there was only a mobile phone number scrawled there. He’d half-expected to see a bleeding heart with both their names doodled on it…
“I forgot to ask her - how did she even find out about the audition?” blinked Billy, suddenly finding his voice again now that Astrid had gone.
“Duh! Her dad’s pub remember?” Andy pointed out. “Ollie put posters up in there.”
“God, yeah of course - I forgot about that!” said Billy.
“Yeah, well, just ‘cause she doesn’t come to watch us any more,” shrugged Ollie, “it doesn’t mean she never goes in her own dad’s pub!”
The four boys - plus Kerry - sat in thoughtful silence for a moment around one of the picnic-style tables outside The Swan. Despite a light evening wind that was threatening to blow away their open crisp packets, it was still warm and the passing traffic had slowed to a trickle.
“You’ve got a real problem there, though,” Matt chipped in eventually.
“A problem - how?” asked Ollie.
“Well, Astrid was miles better than any of the others that showed up tonight,” Matt stated.
“He’s right,” mumbled Andy, spinning his empty glass around in front of him. “She might not’ve been playing all that long, but she’s a natural.”
“And I guess it would look pretty cool - having a girl drummer and everything,” said Billy, almost apologetically. “I know you were joking about our image, 01, but think about it, mate…”
Matt, Andy and Billy looked at Ollie and waited to hear his verdict. Obviously, he had been the one who had suffered the most from Astrid and her strange ways in the past - so it was up to him to decide which way to go with this.
“I think…” he began, as the others hung on his words. He reached over the table and took his girlfriend’s hand in his. “I think me and Kerry need to have a chat about this first…”
CHAPTER 15
AN UNEXPECTED CONVERSATION
Joe could hear the flicking of paper coming from the passenger seat, where Natasha sat skimming her way through the copy of Elle in her lap.
It was Wednesday afternoon and Joe was on his way back to Winstead, after finally landing himself a flat. He’d found his way to the East End that morning (which was a minor miracle after one too many Sea Breezes the night before) and met Jake.
He’d checked out the flat, hit it off with Jake, and said yes - with great relief - to moving in.
“I take the next on the left, don’t I?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Tasha replied, glancing up from the fashion pages she’d been studying and checking the upcoming road signs. “And thanks for driving me, Joe - this location is a nightmare to get to; I had to take three trains and still ended up in a taxi yesterday!”
They were on the outskirts of London now; Joe was taking a slight detour from his route home so he could drop Ollie’s sister off at a shoot. She’d asked him that morning and, after putting him up for a few nights, it was the least he could do.
“So you’re coming to live with us then?” said Tasha suddenly.
There’d been just one problem with Joe’s new flat - the overlap between the start of Joe’s course and Jake’s present flatmate moving out. But it wasn’t really a problem; Bee and the other girls had already told Joe that their sofa was his till he could move in to Jake’s.
“Uh, well, just for a week or so,” Joe said nervously, his eyes on the motorway ahead of him, scanning for the upcoming turning he was meant to take. “I mean, if that’s OK with you.”
Joe wasn’t sure if she was annoyed or not - since he’d arranged all this with her flatmates, not with Natasha herself: firstly, because Tasha had hardly been around to speak to in the last few days anyway, and secondly, because Celine, Krista and Bee had insisted.
“‘Course I don’t mind you staying with us!” shrugged Tasha. “It’s no problem. Celine and the others seem to really like you - and we’re hardly ever all at the flat at the same time anyway, so there’s plenty of room.”
Joe felt the colour flood to his cheeks and hoped that Tasha wouldn’t notice. He wasn’t used to compliments, especially from pretty girls. His mind suddenly shot back to early that morning, when he’d been woken by a kiss; Krista had landed a smacker on his forehead to say goodbye before she hurried off to a photo-shoot. And Bee and Celine had been just as sweet, fussing over him at breakfast before they too had to disappear off to castings and appointments of their own.