Also, I’m starting to worry that I am a sociopath because, as the week goes on, it’s becoming easier and easier not to say anything to Rachel about what I saw on Saturday. I didn’t even think about it all evening. And apart from when I was in the front room doing my homework and she was in her room doing hers, we were around each other most of the time, what with dinner and telly watching and just sitting around talking rubbish with our parents. But eventually Rachel said something about going out with Jenny on Saturday and that reminded me of her so-called friend’s behaviour. And then I felt so angry I was sure it would show on my face, so I went off to bed. Well, to my room, where I am writing this.
Oh, why did I have to see them on Saturday? It would be so much easier if I didn’t know anything.
Today is Cass’s birthday. She is now fifteen, same as me (Alice won’t be fifteen until next month). We’re going to have the proper birthday celebration in the Milk Bar, that cool retro place that sells nice burgers and milkshakes and stuff, after practice on Saturday, but at lunchtime today Alice, Ellie, Emma and I presented her with our presents because if you have to go to school on your birthday, you might as well have some presents to cheer you up. I only gave her half of her present so I have something to give her on Saturday. She was delighted.
‘I think all birthdays should be spread out over a few days,’ she said. ‘Much better than getting all the good stuff in one go.’
Ellie had made Cass a really cool birthday card and also gave her a little case for her phone which she had made out of a great fabric with owls on it. It was an excellent present, not least because it’s totally unique – no one else will have a phone case like it. This is the good thing about making things rather than buying them. Maybe I should teach myself how to sew? I bet Ellie would teach me; she said her session with Lucy went very well. Although with the sweet-making and the songwriting and the poem and story writing AND the band practising I’m not sure when I’d find the time.
Teachers are not very sympathetic about birthdays. Cass and I got a tiny bit giddy during history because I passed her a picture of herself as an oppressed peasant being booted out of a cottage by an evil landlord. We were only laughing a little bit but Mrs O’Reilly separated us again, even though I told her it was Cass’s birthday and I was just giving her birthday greetings. It was so unfair.
Mrs Harrington, on the other hand, wished Cass a happy birthday when she saw the card from Ellie sticking out of her folder. She isn’t so bad, really, especially now she’s not going on about Mum’s books all the time. I suppose she has enough to think about, writing a book of her own. I wonder if she’s heard back from any agents yet? I can’t imagine anything will happen, to be honest. I think she’s just got her hopes up for nothing.
Speaking of my mother, she and my dad are still at rehearsal. I wonder if the cast has risen up against Dad yet? I am afraid it is only a matter of time now.
Well, the great My Fair Lady uprising hasn’t taken place yet, but it’s definitely coming. Dad wasn’t his usual exuberant self when he and Mum got home from rehearsal.
‘How did it go tonight?’ asked Rachel.
‘Oh, fine,’ said Dad. ‘But … I don’t know. Everything felt a bit flat. I’m just not feeling the energy from some of the cast.’
‘What do you mean?’ said Rachel.
‘Well, I just had a few ideas, and some of the others weren’t really keen,’ said Dad. ‘I’m not sure they really get what I’m trying to do.’
Oh dear. I bet he was going on about the dancing dream figure.
‘What did you think, Mum?’ I said, giving her a meaningful look.
‘Oh, you know what rehearsals are like,’ she said briskly. ‘Some go better than others.’
Someone is going to have to talk some sense into Dad before he alienates the entire cast. They are obviously getting annoyed by his suggestions. I thought Mum would say something, but clearly she doesn’t want to burst his bubble. So maybe it will be up to me, as I seem to be the only person who knows what needs to be done. I wish I wasn’t, though. Sometimes being right about stuff is a heavy burden.
Just realised that because of Cass’s birthday bash (ahem) I won’t be able to talk for long with Sam after practice on Saturday. Not that he will definitely want to talk to me for ages, of course. Still, I’ll be hanging out with some of my best friends in a cool café, so it’s not like I’ll be suffering. And I’ll still get to chat with him for a few minutes in the Knitting Factory. Even a small chat warms my heart. I only get to see him once a week, after all.
This morning Mum insisted on changing the radio station in the kitchen because there was an interview with a really right-wing campaigner who she can’t stand.
‘If I have to listen to that man go on about how women are responsible for everything that’s wrong in society for one more minute, I’ll start throwing plates,’ she said, hitting one of the radio’s preset buttons. I had no problem with this at all, because I didn’t particularly want to listen to him either. But as soon as she switched stations, a horribly familiar voice came out of the radio.
‘Oh God, Vanessa’s ad,’ I said. ‘Ugh.’
‘It’s going on for a bit longer than usual, isn’t it?’ said Rachel, looking up from her toast. And we realised it wasn’t just the ad. It was the single! Three whole minutes of Vanessa going on about how kooky she is. I know we could have just turned the radio to another station, but it was like we were frozen in horror. Unsurprisingly, the extra lyrics were just as bad as the ones we’d already heard in the ad. Poor Handsome Dan even got brought into the whole sorry mess!
My dog might be a little bit ugly
But he’s my little protegé
And besides, he’s totally cuddly
He celebrates each kooky little day
How unfair! Handsome Dan is not ugly at all; he’s lovely. And needless to say, ‘cuddly’ does not rhyme with ‘ugly’. There was an extra middle eight in the song too, as if the normal tune wasn’t enough.
Life can be fun
When you play in the sun
And just let your kooky flag fly
So join in with me
And together we’ll see
That quirky kids can go sky high
I wish Vanessa would go sky high. In a rocket, and never come down again. Of course, when I got to school it seemed like everyone had heard the song on some station or another. Vanessa managed to reach new heights of smugness, which I actually hadn’t thought would be physically possible. But it appears it is.
‘It’s all for a good cause,’ she was saying when we went into Irish, our first class of the day. ‘I’m happy to do my bit.’
‘What’s the charity again?’ asked Karen.
Vanessa’s face froze for a second.
‘It’s for children,’ she said. ‘Like, children who need help.’
And then our teacher came in, so she didn’t have to say anything else. I knew she doesn’t care about doing her bit for society, but not even knowing the name of the charity is a bit much, even for her. She’d better remember it before she does all her promotional work this weekend. Anyway, I wish the single’s proceeds weren’t going to a charity, whatever that charity might be. If it was just going to make Vanessa and whoever wrote the song rich, I could wish it would be an enormous flop without feeling guilty at all.
Speaking of feeling guilty, I still keep forgetting about the whole Tom and Jenny thing and then I’m reminded of it and feel awful. I just keep thinking what it’ll be like when Rachel finds out and discovers that I knew all about it. She’ll be very angry, and rightly so. She’ll feel betrayed by me as well as Jenny.
But every time I think about telling her, something happens and she’s sad and I just can’t bring myself to do it – like, this evening she went to the cinema with a bunch of her friends from school (not including Jenny – I bet the evil traitor was off with Tom) and when she came home she was all subdued.
‘Are you okay?’ I said.
/> ‘Meh, I dunno,’ she said. ‘The film was good, but it was all about a couple breaking up and … ah, it just made me think of the whole Tom mess.’
‘Have you talked to him?’ I said. ‘Since that time you met up.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘We’ve sent each other a couple of texts and messages. And …’ She looked a bit embarrassed. ‘I’ve kind of checked him out on, um, various social media things. More than once. But I think I should unfriend him and stop looking at anything online. I mean, I dunno. A clean break. You don’t get over people otherwise.’
She’s right. I know we didn’t drop all contact, but I felt much better about the whole Paperboy thing once I stopped expecting contact from him (and being disappointed). It’s still sad, though. I tried to remember those ‘how to cheer up your dumped friend’ tips. The only doable thing I could think of was ‘make them laugh’. So I suggested that we have a sitcom box-set binge.
‘Okay,’ said Rachel. ‘I’ll make my special hot chocolate.’
Twenty minutes later, we were in front of the telly and she was laughing so much she nearly rolled off the coach. So that tip really did work. And I was having a good time too. It’s good having a sister who finds the same things funny as you. I nearly told her about Sam, but I was trying to keep her mind off all things romance-related, so I didn’t.
Very exciting news – we’re going to play a gig in three weeks! Veronica turned up when a bunch of us were arriving at the Knitting Factory and told us the news. She has arranged for the Knitting Factory to let us put on an under-eighteens show. We were lucky to get on the bill because only four bands can play this first one – there’ll be another one happening next month, though, and hopefully it’ll become a monthly thing after that. Anyway, first up are us, the Wicked Ways, Puce and Bad Monkey, which is an excellent line-up. I wonder if Puce have made their stage show even more dramatic since the summer? They did a lot of jumping on top of things and dancing around in front of back-drops – it was very impressive.
Exquisite Corpse and Small Paula, who were all at the Knitting Factory today for the first time in a few weeks, will be playing the second one along with two other bands we don’t know. Tall Paula is glad that they got the second gig.
‘We’ve been working on some new songs,’ she said, ‘and there’s no way they’d have been good enough to play live for the first session. But we should be okay for the next one after that.’
Small Paula didn’t say much, as usual, but she seemed pleased.
‘Have you written lots of new stuff since the summer, Paula?’ asked Cass.
‘Lots? I don’t know,’ said Small Paula. ‘You’ll see.’
She is still very mysterious. I do like her, though. I wish I could be as enigmatic as her. I tried it during the summer, but it just confused people.
Richard and the Wicked Ways are excited about playing the gig too, though Richard is a bit worried that he won’t be able to steal his big brother’s cool suit, which is what he usually wears to gigs.
‘He’s hidden it in a new place,’ he said. ‘I have no idea where it is. It’s not at the back of his wardrobe anymore.’
‘Well, you’ve got a few weeks to find it,’ said Cass comfortingly. ‘Maybe it’s up in the attic or something?’
‘And if you don’t find it,’ said Alice, ‘you can wear that cool shirt your uncle got you in London, and those black trousers.’
‘Yeah, I suppose I can,’ said Richard. ‘I think the suit’s spoiled me, though. Nothing else is as good once you’ve worn a suit like that.’
‘Maybe Ellie could make you one?’ I said.
‘I know Ellie’s very good at clothes-making, but I don’t think she’s up to suits yet,’ said Cass.
‘I don’t know,’ said Alice. ‘Those shorts were pretty good.’
‘There’s a big difference between a pair of shorts and a whole suit,’ said Cass. ‘Especially as Ellie is a short girl and Richard is a tall boy.’
But Richard looked thoughtful.
‘I dunno, she did help Mrs Limond alter all the suits when we were doing the musical,’ he said, running a hand through his quiff (which isn’t quite as big as it was during the summer, when he seemed to be subconsciously imitating his musical idol Ian Cliff, but is still quite impressive).
‘Well, you can ask her later at my big birthday bash,’ said Cass. ‘After I ride in on my pink pony.’
‘Your what?’ said Tall Paula. So we had to explain about Vanessa’s attempt to be on the telly show.
‘And now she’s in a stupid ad,’ I said. ‘For Bluebird Bakery cookies.’
‘Oh my God, is she Kookie?’ said Tall Paula.
‘I’m afraid so,’ I said with a sigh.
‘Half my class are singing that song,’ said Tall Paula. ‘Some of them are even dressing like her. Everyone’s gone Kookie mad!’
‘“Mad” being the perfect word,’ said Cass grimly.
‘It’s a very catchy song, though,’ said Tall Paula. ‘I mean, it’s terrible. But it’s catchy.’
‘Kooky little day?’ said Small Paula. ‘Huh!’
And she walked off to her studio.
‘That’s the best response to Vanessa’s ad I’ve heard yet,’ said Cass, admiringly.
Then we all realised we were wasting precious practice-room time, so we went off to our various studios. Our practice went very well. The song with the lyrics about standing up for yourself is now called ‘What Tastes Better (Is Honesty)’ and it’s pretty much finished now – I think we’ll be able to do it at the gig. In fact, considering each band’s set at the gig will have to be pretty short, we won’t be able to fit all our songs into it – we’ll have to decide what to leave out. And just think, a year ago we only had one original song to play at the Battle of the Bands! Now we have almost a whole album’s worth of songs. If we were going to record an album. Which we might, you never know.
Anyway, after the practice we met Richard and Liz, who were of course coming to Cass’s birthday celebrations. Cass had told Ellie we’d meet her outside the Knitting Factory, so we all went out to wait for her – and for Emma and Jane, who were joining us too. After a few minutes, Ellie walked out with Senan and Lucy. My heart rose at the thought of seeing Sam, but alas there was no sign of him.
‘No Sam today?’ I said, as casually as I could. I avoided Cass’s eye as I said it, in case she looked at me in a meaningful way.
‘No, he had to leave half an hour early,’ said Lucy. ‘Daire’s taking part in a skateboarding contest thing and Sam promised he’d go and cheer him on.’
‘Ah, okay,’ I said. I hope I didn’t sound as if I was bothered one way or the other. Even though I was really disappointed. I didn’t mind about not getting to talk to him for long today, but I did want to just see him and say hello.
‘Do you two want to come along to the Milk Bar?’ said Cass. ‘It’s my birthday party. Well, sort of a party. I bet they could fit a couple of extra seats.’
Senan had to go to his brother’s football match, but Lucy happily accepted Cass’s invitation. Then Emma and Jane arrived, so we all headed over to the Milk Bar, settled into our giant table near the window and ordered a giant and delicious feast (well, some burgers and milkshakes and Coke floats).
‘If only we could do this every week,’ I said.
‘Well, it’s my birthday fairly soon,’ said Alice. ‘So we can have a bit of a celebration then.’
Richard asked Ellie about the suit. She looked thoughtful.
‘I definitely couldn’t make one from scratch, I’m afraid,’ she said. ‘It’s too complicated. I mean, most tailors train for years.’
Richard looked a bit disappointed.
‘Oh well,’ he said. ‘Maybe in a few years, then.’
‘But!’ said Ellie. ‘I did learn quite a bit about alterations from Mrs Limond. So if you happen to have a suit that isn’t as perfect a fit, I could change it a bit.’
‘Wow, really?’ said Richard. ‘Thanks! I have a che
apish one that I had to get for my cousin’s wedding back in February. Maybe you could do something with that?’
‘Well, I’ll give it a try,’ said Ellie. ‘But I can’t promise miracles.’
Jane wanted to know how Vanessa’s fame had affected her at school.
‘Just as badly as you can imagine,’ I said.
‘I’m kind of intrigued by Vanessa,’ said Liz. ‘I’ve only seen her on stage in Mary Poppins and she was pretty good.’
‘Just count your blessings you don’t have to put up with her off stage,’ said Cass, eating a chip.
‘Vanessa’s mum has basically become her publicist,’ said Jane. ‘Every time she sees my mother – or me, for that matter – she starts telling us how brilliantly Vanessa is doing and how it’s only a matter of time before she’s a superstar and what a pity it is that I’m not so committed to my acting career.’
‘She sounds just as bad as her daughter,’ said Cass.
‘Not quite, but almost,’ said Jane. ‘My mum is getting really sick of it, even though Mrs Finn is her friend. She says when I start putting on plays, she’ll go on about it to Mrs Finn all the time, but to be honest I don’t think Mrs Finn would be impressed. Oh well.’
Then Ellie said, ‘God, look who it is! Outside, over there.’
We all looked where she was pointing.
‘Ugh,’ I said. ‘Charlie!’
It was awful Charlie, the sexist, pervy bully who said horrible things about Cass at the end of the summer camp. He was strutting along the street with Robbie, who had been in his band the Crack Parrots. The band broke up when two of the members walked out because they couldn’t bear hanging around with Charlie anymore.