I am very pleased for him. In fact, if it weren’t for the ongoing Jenny and Tom secret thing, I would be in a very, very good mood today. I have a weirdly good feeling about Saturday. I don’t know why. I just feel like something exciting is going to happen. Something with Sam. Maybe it’s because the last time we played a gig at the Knitting Factory, Paperboy kissed me at the end of it. Of course, the last time we played a gig at the Knitting Factory, I also fell backwards off a drum platform and looked completely ridiculous in front of several hundred people. But I’m sure that’s not going to happen again. I’m going to check the drum stool very carefully before I sit down, anyway.
And really, maybe it’s just that I think if anything is ever going to happen with Sam, surely it will happen at something like a gig, which is basically a party. It seems like the right sort of place. I mean, surely it’s more likely to happen there than in the art studio or at the bus stop. Of course, I do know that maybe nothing will ever happen with Sam. And I’m pretty much prepared for that. But IF it does, I really do think it might happen on Saturday. I just have a feeling.
Today got off to an excellent start because the woman who runs that Li’l Tykes animal performers’ agency was on the radio this morning talking about the Dogtown ad – she was one of the animal trainers who worked on it.
‘We know they say when it comes to showbiz, you should never work with children or animals,’ said the presenter. ‘So how do you find working with your canine team?’
‘They’re an absolute dream,’ said the Li’l Tykes lady. ‘I’ve worked with human performers who were much more difficult!’
And I totally know she meant Vanessa, especially because the next thing she said was, ‘And the animals like working together too. One of my dogs, Handsome Dan, recently starred in the famous Bluebird Bakery advert, but I think he found this shoot even easier. He had a great time with the other dogs.’
So it really was Handsome Dan in the Dogtown ad! I knew I recognised his adorable squashy features.
Anyway, I don’t know whether the radio interview had anything to do with it, but today was the first day in weeks that Vanessa didn’t go on about Kookie all the time. She wasn’t even wearing the Kookie badge which has adorned her school jumper ever since the ad came out. In fact, I’ve just remembered that when the campaign started, she said that they were going to make more Kookie ads in the future, but we haven’t heard anything about that recently so maybe this is the end of Kookie forever? What a blessed relief. Unfortunately, she had more news for us.
‘I’ve got an audition for a television series tomorrow,’ she declared. ‘It’s a really interesting part. Much more challenging than the Kookie ad. I think it’ll really stretch my skills as an actor.’
‘If I do get that ad, we can run through our scripts together,’ said Karen. ‘Help train each other. Bernard and I find that very useful. We can spur each other on.’
I thought Vanessa would be outraged at the idea that she might learn something from Karen, considering how she’s been spouting her supposed wisdom at her for weeks, but to my amazement, she said, ‘Hmmm, yeah, I suppose we could.’
Maybe finding out that one ad doesn’t mean you’ll be a big star forever is actually making her more humble and maybe even human? Though I won’t hold my breath. She’ll probably be lording it over her so-called friends again next week.
Cass and I went to Alice’s after school for our last-minute practice. Our parents let us do this on the condition that after this weekend we will knuckle down and concentrate on our studies for a while.
‘You spend half the day in town on Saturdays just for your band practices, anyway,’ said Mum. ‘So that should be enough music and weekend socialising for you. It’s back to work on Monday, okay?’
I hope she will forget about this after a while. Seriously, the odd Sunday afternoon out isn’t going to make me fail my exams. But I won’t argue with her for the moment.
Anyway, the practice went very well (I dropped my drum sticks once, and Alice got a chorus and middle eight mixed up, but we agreed it was just pre-show jitters and that we’ll be okay tomorrow). When it was over and we were waiting for Cass’s mum to collect her and me and bring us back to Dublin, we sat around for a while drinking Cokes and talking about stuff.
‘I think we should drink a toast to the Dogtown dogs,’ said Cass, raising her can of Coke. ‘They have taken the country’s attention away from Vanessa, and so they have performed a great service to humankind.’
‘I’ll drink to that,’ I said, clinking my can against Cass’s. Alice leaned over and clinked her can too.
‘Though she might get that TV series,’ she said. ‘And then she’d be on telly for ages. And it’ll probably be even more high profile.’
‘Meh, even if she gets it, it won’t be on TV for months and months,’ said Cass. ‘So we’ll have a nice break from her nonsense until then.’
‘I think we should think about recording something soon,’ I said. ‘I mean, we learned a fair bit about the technical stuff at the summer camp. And we could get some studio time at the Knitting Factory.’
‘Don’t you think we should wait until after the exams?’ said Alice.
‘Oh, we can fit something in before then!’ said Cass. ‘What about the Christmas holidays? You’re not going to spend every second studying then, are you?’
‘I suppose not,’ said Alice.
‘There you go,’ said Cass. ‘We can record a mini-album then.’
And we probably will. It’s hard to believe Cass used to be so nervous about band stuff. She’s the most confident of us all these days.
Anyway, I am fairly confident about tomorrow. And very excited. I love playing live so much, even though I’ve only done it twice. And Kitty will be there to see how we’ve come on since she last saw us on stage. And so will Sam. And I really, really hope something will happen with him. Surely something will? I can’t feel so butterflies-in-my-tummy-ish for nothing.
I just went downstairs to find Jenny the Traitor lolling about in my sitting room with Rachel. I don’t know how she dares show her face in this house after what she’s been doing. And it turns out she is staying the night! She is truly shameless. I’ll try to avoid her as much as possible. It shouldn’t be too hard as I want to practise my drums a bit more in preparation for tomorrow. I’ve just spent twenty minutes playing along on my snare to our recording of ‘The Real Me’. I think I’ve actually got better at drumming since we recorded it – when I listen to it I keep thinking of things I’d do slightly differently now. So I’ll just think about drumming and tomorrow’s gig and not about the evil traitor in my house.
It’s only eleven o’clock, so I don’t have to leave the house for ages, but I can’t bear to go downstairs because Jenny is still here. My parents have gone to the garden centre yet again to buy some new winter shrubs, whatever they are, and Rachel and Jenny are in the kitchen drinking mugs of Rachel’s special hot chocolate, which she only makes for special occasions and which Jenny definitely does not deserve. Just the thought of her sitting there drinking that delicious treat is sending me into a rage again. How can I just sit here when I know what she’s done?
Oh, screw this, I can’t. I can’t let her fool Rachel a second longer. It’s gone on for too long. I’m going to do what I should have done weeks ago. I’m going to go down and confront her. It has to be done.
Right. Here I go.
Oh God. I have made a big mistake. A really, really stupid mistake. I feel ridiculously embarrassed. If it weren’t for the fact that I’ve got to go and perform on a stage in a few hours, I would never leave the house again. I can barely bring myself to write it down, but I suppose I have to for the sake of posterity. So here’s what happened.
When I went down to the kitchen, I almost changed my mind about confronting Jenny. But then I came in and I heard her say, ‘Just look how far you’ve come in the last few weeks! I’m kind of in awe.’ And the idea of her fawning over Rachel when real
ly she was stabbing her in the back made me so mad I just said, ‘In awe? Oh, is that what you call it?’ in a really snarky voice.
Rachel and Jenny both stared at me.
‘Sorry?’ said Jenny.
‘You heard what I said,’ I said.
‘Well, yeah,’ said Jenny. ‘But I don’t know what you meant. Seriously, Bex, you’ve been really weird and off with me lately. Is there anything wrong?’
I snorted in a rather undignified way.
‘As if you don’t know!’ I said.
‘I don’t!’ said Jenny. ‘And I’m starting to get tired of it!’
‘Well, good,’ I said rudely.
‘What on earth are you talking about, Bex?’ said Rachel. ‘And why the hell are you being so obnoxious?’
I swallowed. I knew what I was going to say would break Rachel’s heart, and I didn’t want to do it, but I knew it had to be done.
‘It’s Jenny,’ I said. ‘She’s having an affair with Tom.’
I expected Jenny to go white with shock and deny it all, and I assumed Rachel would start wailing or burst into tears or even hit Jenny. But none of these things happened.
In fact, what happened first was that Jenny burst out laughing. And not fake ‘Ha-ha-ha’ laughing, proper, genuine, wheezy laughing.
‘Oh my GOD,’ she said. ‘Where did that come from?’
And Rachel didn’t look upset. She just looked amused and baffled.
‘Bex, Jenny is not having an affair with Tom,’ she said.
‘But I saw them!’ I said. ‘A few weeks ago! Sitting in the window of a café on Wicklow Street!’
Rachel turned to Jenny. ‘Isn’t that where you met him to give back his stupid books?’ she said.
‘Yeah,’ said Jenny. ‘And she’s right, we were near the window.’ She looked at me. ‘God, Bex, why on earth did you think I was having an affair with him? Rachel asked me to meet Tom to give back some of his books and stuff. So I did.’
‘But …’ I said. ‘But why did you hang around having a coffee with him? You looked like you were having a really intense conversation!’
‘Well, I suppose we were,’ said Jenny. ‘He was asking me how Rachel was and I was telling him that she was doing amazingly – of course – but that he’d really upset her just dumping her out of the blue. And he felt guilty without feeling sorry for her, which is exactly what we wanted to happen.’
‘I knew all about it,’ said Rachel. ‘We’d spent ages talking about what she’d say to him to make him think I had moved on and wasn’t thinking about him at all.’
‘But it did look …’ I said. ‘I mean, Jenny could still have been carrying on with him! She was leaning over and giving him something!’ But even as I said it, I realised what she’d been giving him.
‘Bex, I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m seeing someone else,’ said Jenny. ‘His name is Fionn. Seriously, I wouldn’t have time to have an affair even if I wanted to, which I don’t, and even if I did, I’d never even contemplate having one with Tom. And what I was giving him was Rachel’s books.’
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘So do you believe me now?’ said Jenny.
‘Um, yes,’ I said. ‘Sorry. About yelling at you. And not believing you.’
‘It’s okay,’ said Jenny.
‘And, um, about being weird to you over the last few weeks,’ I said. ‘I just thought you had stabbed Rachel in the back. And, um, I was just upset about it.’
‘Ah, I understand,’ said Jenny.
Rachel was looking at me with a funny expression on her face.
‘You should have just said something to me,’ she said. And I thought she was going to yell at me for not saying anything when I thought her best friend was having a secret affair with her ex. ‘But I suppose you were just worried about me.’ She paused. ‘You’re not the worst sister in the world.’
Which, from a member of my family, who are not prone to declarations of love (I found it very difficult when I wrote a song for Rachel’s birthday a few months ago), is quite something, especially on top of her thanking me for cheering her up on Tuesday. There was a long pause.
‘So …’ I said. ‘I suppose I’d better go and get ready for the gig.’
‘We’ll be there,’ said Jenny, who I must admit was behaving very decently for someone who’d just been accused by me of betraying her best friend and having a secret affair. ‘And Fionn is going to meet us there. So you can see I’m not making him up.’
‘I don’t think you’re making him up!’ I said miserably. I felt like a giant fool. And then I basically ran up here to my room, where I am writing this while the shame is still fresh.
I am really glad that Jenny isn’t having an affair with Tom, though. And at least I don’t have to worry about keeping a terrible secret from Rachel anymore. And, actually, I feel a bit less ridiculous having written it all down. It’s strange what a relief writing about bad stuff can be. And I do have to get ready for the gig now. I am still feeling quite butterflies-in-the-tummy about it. I still can’t help thinking something exciting is going to happen, apart from the whole gig stuff, which is exciting in itself. It just feels like today will be a Big Day.
Right. I’ve really got to change and get ready at last. I wish I’d asked Rachel if I could borrow some of her posh make-up before I went down and embarrassed myself – I don’t feel like creeping in and asking for a favour now. I’ll just have to make do with my own non-posh stuff. And I’m going to wear my brilliant ’60s brown and gold dress that I got in a charity shop at the end of the summer. Not only does it look cool, it’s not too tight so it’s particularly easy to drum in. I do like it when clothes are practical as well as cute.
Okay, I really am going now. I won’t think about what I said to Jenny at all. I’m going to think about the gig. And about seeing Sam. And what might happen. Because I really do have a feeling that something will.
Well, first things first. Our gig was brilliant. At least, it went pretty well as far as we were concerned, and the crowd seemed to like it. And there was a pretty big crowd too. But – and I feel kind of stupid even being a bit sad about this when our gig went so well, but after all you can’t help how your heart feels – nothing happened with Sam. I mean, I was talking to him a lot. And I was trying to get that balance between being friendly and too friendly. And we did talk on our own for a while. But nothing really happened. By which I mean we didn’t start kissing passionately by the speakers (or anywhere else, for that matter), and we didn’t declare our undying love (or even mild affection) for each other. So much for my butterflies.
It all happened like this. All four bands only had time to do a quick soundcheck, so we didn’t really get a chance to properly see what the other bands were doing. We did get to talk to Veronica and Paul, the sound engineer, about our backdrop, and she promised to get it up just before we went on. Then she told us the running order of the show – first Bad Monkey, then Puce, then us, then the Wicked Ways. And then all four bands just stood around a bit nervously waiting for the main doors to open (well, some of us were nervous. Puce were in a corner practising their stage moves). Some of the others had sneaked cans in, but they were too nervous to take them out and drink anything, mostly because it had been made quite clear that if Veronica saw any booze on the premises, we’d all be kicked out (and, she’d warned us before, there’d be no chance of any more all-ages gigs there).
‘What if no one turns up?’ said Katie from Bad Monkey. ‘I mean, the Battle of the Bands was full, but there were a million bands playing then and everyone brought their friends …’
But then the door to the venue was pulled back and lots of people started to pour in.
‘Whoah,’ said Alice, a few minutes later. ‘I didn’t think it’d be this jammed.’
‘Neither did I,’ said Richard. ‘We’ll all be fine though.’ He was wearing his specially altered suit and looked very cool. His quiff was at full blast, but he can really pull it off.
 
; ‘Look, there’s Tall Paula and Sophie!’ said Cass, giving them a wave. ‘And – wow, Small Paula too. I didn’t know if she’d come along.’
‘And there’s Jane and Aoife,’ said Alice. Aoife is Jane’s best friend. ‘Hey, over here!’
I must admit that as soon as the doors opened I started looking out for Sam. Every time a tall boy with scruffy hair walked in my stomach felt all funny because I thought it was him. And then, while I was telling Jane and Aoife about how we’d made our backdrop (Jane is very interested in all things vaguely theatrical), Sam walked in with Lucy and a boy I’d never seen before.
Lucy waved when she saw us and the three of them came over to join us.
‘Hey, band people,’ said Sam. ‘This is Daire.’
‘Hey,’ said Daire. He was a tall, friendly-looking boy holding a skateboard. ‘Ah, hi, Richard.’ I forgot they were all in the same school. ‘I’ve heard a lot about all these bands,’ Daire went on. ‘Sam and Lucy say you’re all pretty good …’
‘Well, they might have exaggerated a bit,’ said Alice nervously. ‘Don’t get your hopes up too much.’
‘Any nerves, Bex?’ said Sam.
‘Not really,’ I said. ‘That’s not tempting fate, is it? Maybe it would be better if I was really nervous …’
‘Nah,’ said Sam. ‘I don’t believe in tempting fate anyway. You’ll all be brilliant.’
I wish he hadn’t said that ‘all’. I wish he’d singled us out. Anyway, then Alice said, ‘Hey, Emma’s arrived. And look who’s with her!’
It was Alison! And Karen was nowhere to be seen. Alison has clearly escaped from her clutches at last. She looked a bit shy when she and Emma joined us, but soon she and Emma were talking to Daire, whose brother, it turns out, goes to the same computer course as them.
‘Wow, Dublin really is small,’ I said.
‘Well, our bit of north Dublin definitely is,’ said Sam.