Page 12 of The Real Rebecca


  ‘But we want to cheer you on,’ said Mum. She looked quite sad.

  ‘Mum,’ I said. ‘I appreciate your support, but all of my class will be there, and they’ve been slagging me off about you quite enough recently. So the last thing I need is you turning up in person.’

  ‘They won’t know we’re your parents,’ said Mum. ‘We could be anyone’s parents. I bet we won’t be the only ones, too.’

  ‘First of all, I’m sure everyone else’s parents will be sensible enough not to come, and second of all, everyone in school knows what you look like because you’ve been all over the papers, as well as eating cakes in silly magazines.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Mum. She sighed. ‘Well, I suppose you’re right. Oh well.’

  I felt a bit bad. ‘You know this won’t be your only chance to see us ever,’ I said. At least, I hope it won’t. ‘There’ll be plenty of gigs. So you’ll get to see us eventually.’

  Mum and Dad sort of grinned at each other.

  ‘Okay,’ said Mum. ‘We won’t embarrass you for now. Would you and the girls like a lift to the venue anyway?’

  ‘Oooh, yes please,’ I said. Mum still does have her uses. I suppose she’s not that bad really.

  THURSDAY

  Last practice before the battle of the bands. We don’t sound too bad. Actually, when we get through a song without a mistake, we sound pretty good. The only problem is that this doesn’t happen every time we play the songs. But it happens more often than it doesn’t. And I’ve got better at looking out at the (imaginary, for now) audience while I play. We went through both songs about a million times. My voice was hoarse after a while, but luckily Alice’s mother is being extremely kind (she really is much nicer than Mum) and brought us out some soothing honey and lemon drinks that she’d made herself.

  ‘The singing sounds okay,’ said Alice. She’s right, actually. The three of us singing together sounds pretty cool. It makes the Kinks’ song sound brand new and our own song actually sounds … kind of good.

  I’m scared to be too optimistic about the whole thing in case I jinx it, but every so often I allow myself to imagine what it MIGHT be like. Like, I imagine us all up on the stage, looking really cool and confident, and playing the songs perfectly, and the audience going wild. Of course, in my imagination I don’t need to look at my drums all the time so I can gaze out confidently at the audience. I also look very elegant and have perfect hair, and I have the ability to throw my drumsticks into the air and catch them again, without missing a beat. That’s possibly the most unrealistic bit. I have no idea how proper drummers do it, because, every time I try, I can’t catch either of the sticks at all, let alone without missing a beat. I’ve stopped trying now, because the last time I tried one of the drumsticks nearly poked me in the eye as it fell. I’m not risking blindness just to do a cool drumstick trick.

  FRIDAY

  Feeling very, very nervous about tomorrow. I couldn’t concentrate in any class today. I really wish no one at school knew about it. It seems like the entire class is going to turn up. Even Karen Rodgers, for some freakish reason.

  ‘I can’t wait to see you and Wildfire tomorrow,’ she said at lunch. ‘We all need a few laughs, don’t we?’

  I ignored her, which shows how grown-up I have become as a result of all my suffering. Well, I didn’t say anything, at least. I just made a face at her.

  Cass is trying to look on the bright side of everyone coming to the battle of the bands. ‘Well, at least if we’re brilliant everyone will see us,’ she said. ‘That should stop people going on about your mum’s book all the time.’

  ‘Aren’t you nervous?’ said Alice. ‘Because I certainly am. Every time I think about the gig being on being tomorrow I get a weird churning feeling in my tummy. It’s awful.’

  ‘Me too,’ I said. ‘Don’t you, Cass?’

  ‘I dunno,’ said Cass. ‘It’s stopped seeming so scary now. I mean, we’re not brilliant, but it’s not like we’re going to, I dunno, fall off the stage or anything.’

  Alice and I just looked at each other.

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right, Cass?’ said Alice. ‘I mean, you seem strangely calm.’

  Cass looked faintly surprised. ‘Yeah, I suppose I am. I mean, I’m excited and everything. But now it’s actually happening, I’m not really that scared.’

  Somehow seeing Cass in such a weirdly serene mood made me and Alice feel a bit more calm too. Although I hope Cass’s calmness today doesn’t mean she’s going to totally freak out tomorrow. Maybe she’s going to be all calm and sensible until we’re actually on stage and then she’s going to wet herself or something. Oh God.

  Okay, I’m feeling even more nervous now. And this feeling isn’t helped by the fact that Paperboy is definitely going to be there tomorrow. I nearly broke my neck this evening running out to answer the door when he called for his paper money. Rachel pretended that she was running out too but she was only doing it to make me run faster. I could hear her laughing like a loon when I opened the door.

  ‘Hi!’ I said.

  Paperboy looked a bit startled, probably because I’d just flung the door open like I was trying to escape from a serial killer.

  ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Looking forward to setting the world on fire with your amazing drumming?’

  ‘Sort of,’ I said. ‘You know, there’s actually a chance we will literally set something on fire. We’re all very nervous. We’ll probably pull down a light or something.’

  ‘Ah, don’t worry about it,’ said Paperboy. ‘You’ll be grand. Everyone’s nervous anyway. My friend Johnny keeps saying he doesn’t think he can do it at all.’

  ‘No, really?’ I said, very relieved. It felt much better to know that we weren’t the only people freaking out.

  ‘Yes, he keeps having nightmares where he gets on stage and discovers they’ve left all their instruments at home so they have to do a ridiculous dance routine instead.’

  ‘Hmmm,’ I said. ‘Well, there’s no way we’re doing a dance routine, even if we do leave everything at home. That’s just what a stupid girl in my class wants me to do.’

  Paperboy looked confused. ‘Why? Is she a fan of your dancing?’

  I wished I hadn’t said anything now, but I had to explain about Ruthie’s awful group.

  ‘So you see, there will be no dancing from me,’ I said. ‘Karen Rodgers would have a field day. I’d never hear the end of it.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Paperboy. ‘Anyway, I’m sure you won’t forget anything.’

  ‘I don’t even have to bring my drums,’ I said. ‘They’re giving us a kit. I mean, they’re giving all the bands the same kit. I just have to bring my drumsticks.’

  ‘Well, if you do manage to forget them – and Johnny’s drummer remembers his – I’m sure I can get a loan of them for you.’

  ‘Oh, thanks. So …’ I said. I’ve been so nervous about the battle that I’d forgotten to be nervous about Paperboy. Apparently I can’t really be nervous about two things at once. Hmmm. ‘So are you going, then?’

  ‘But of course!’ said Paperboy. ‘I’m making banners and flags and t-shirts and everything.’

  ‘Really?’ I said.

  ‘Um, no,’ said Paperboy. ‘Sorry. But I’ll be cheering.’

  He smiled at me. And I smiled back. I hope I didn’t look too weird. I caught sight of myself smiling in the hall mirror the other day when I was on the phone to Cass and I looked a bit deranged. When I got off the phone I practised smiling in the mirror for a bit to see if there was a way I could smile and still look nice, but I just looked madder and madder. Magazines are always saying everyone looks better when they smile, but I don’t think this is true in my case. I don’t think I have a very symmetrical face.

  Anyway, I had to stop smiling at Paperboy (which was probably for the best, given my peculiar face) because my dad called out from the kitchen, ‘Rebecca? Is that the paperboy? Do you need the money?’

  ‘Yes!’ I shouted back. ‘Um, back i
n a second.’ And then I had to run into the kitchen because otherwise Dad would have come out to give me the paper money. If he did, he’d probably have started asking me and Paperboy what we were talking about and making some ‘hilarious’ dad-esque jokes, to show how cool and hip he is. My parents have embarrassed me enough recently, so I’m not going to hand either of them any more opportunities.

  When I gave the money to Paperboy I said, ‘So, I’ll see you tomorrow?’

  And he said, ‘You definitely will. I’m looking forward to it. Good luck!’

  And off he went. I immediately ran to phone Cass to analyse his words.

  ‘Do you think he’s looking forward to seeing us or just the whole thing?’ I said.

  ‘He must be looking forward to seeing us a little bit,’ said Cass. ‘Or why would he have said it at all?’

  ‘I do really like him, you know,’ I said. I paused. ‘Do you …?’

  Because at the beginning Cass seemed to like him as well. She hasn’t seen him since, but that doesn’t necessarily make a difference. I would feel weird if we both felt the same way about him. But it looks like we actually don’t.

  ‘Nah,’ said Cass. ‘Seriously, I don’t. I mean, he is extremely good looking and everything. But when you told me about his girlfriend …’

  ‘Ex-girlfriend,’ I said quickly.

  ‘Yes, ex-girlfriend,’ said Cass. ‘I didn’t really feel anything. I mean, it made you feel sick and horrible, but not me. So I don’t think he is the love of my life or anything.’

  I felt very relieved. I wouldn’t want any boys to come between me and Cass, and not just because that would make us like Ruthie and her so-called friends. But because even though I don’t know whether Paperboy likes me at all, and he probably doesn’t (although sometimes I really think he might), I would hate for Cass and me to be rivals. It would be wrong. Her and me and Alice are a team, and not just because we’re in a band. Although that does make us feel even more team-ish.

  Anyway, both Cass and I are going to try and have an early night. We have to be fresh-faced and beautiful for our debut tomorrow. Well, fresh-faced anyway.

  LATER

  I can’t sleep! I have been lying awake thinking of everything that could go wrong tomorrow. To distract myself, I will try imagining what it would be like if we were interviewed for one of the fancy music magazines Dad buys.

  It’s hard to believe it’s only a few weeks since Dublin trio Hey Dollface got together in their north Dublin studio. Rebecca Rafferty, Cassandra McDermott and Alice Sheridan play like seasoned professionals.

  In an elegant and supercool dress, Rafferty radiates star quality, her glossy, bouncy hair shining as she keeps perfect time. Her skilful and complicated drumming puts older musicians to shame. ‘I suppose I just have natural rhythm,’ says the beautiful drummer, tossing her drumsticks into the air midbeat.

  Surely it is only a matter of time before such things appear in magazines for real?

  Okay, I’m actually starting to feel tired now. Let’s hope I actually get some sleep. This time tomorrow it’ll all be over …

  SATURDAY

  Today was … well, it was one of the strangest, most amazing days of my life. I’d better start at the beginning. Which I suppose is this morning, which I spent wandering aimlessly around the house or fiddling with my drumsticks because I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. This perfectly innocent behaviour was, of course, too much for Rachel.

  ‘Oh my God, will you just sit down?’ she said. ‘You’re doing my head in, roaming around like a mad ghost.’

  ‘I’m too stressed to sit down,’ I said. ‘Alice’s mum is dropping her here and then we’re going to get Cass. So I have nothing to do but wait for them.’

  Rachel sighed. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘How about we go over your stage ensemble? And your make-up? You’ve got to leave in half an hour, you know. It’s getting late. You’ve been wandering around all morning.’

  ‘I don’t want to wear loads of make-up,’ I said. ‘I might look like Ruthie. Or Vanessa. Anyway, I never wear loads of make-up.’ I paused. ‘I don’t even own loads of make-up.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Rachel. ‘I’m not going to make you look like a clown.’ She grinned evilly. ‘Or am I?’

  ‘Oh, go away,’ I said. ‘I’m nervous enough without you making fun of me. You’re not funny.’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ said Rachel. ‘I’m only joking. Go on, show me your dress again.’

  So I went upstairs and tried it on. Rachel looked very serious. ‘Hmmm, very nice,’ she said. ‘No, seriously, it is. Go for the tights, though, not bare legs. As for your hair …’

  She hovered over me for a while, doing painful things with a brush, some clips, and her anti-frizz serum stuff. Finally she sighed.

  ‘I’m afraid your hair is always going to be a bit odd,’ she said. ‘But this isn’t too bad.’

  I looked in the mirror. It was a bit unruly, because it always is, but it did look much glossier and neater than usual.

  ‘Ooh, thanks,’ I said.

  ‘Now for your make-up,’ declared Rachel.

  She made me close my eyes while she got out her make-up bag so I wouldn’t see her secret hiding place and messed around with some eye-liner, creamy Benefit eye-shadow in a smoky sort of shade called Skinny Jeans and this really posh mascara that’s meant to make you look like you’re wearing false eyelashes. Every so often I said, ‘Ow!’ and ‘Don’t poke me in the eye!’

  Finally, she stopped poking me and looked at me thoughtfully. ‘Hmmm,’ she said. ‘Not bad. It’ll have to do, anyway. Just don’t cry or rub your eyes, you’ll wreck it.’

  ‘I hope I don’t have any reason to cry,’ I said nervously. Then I looked in the mirror. And I have to admit, Rachel had done a pretty good job. My eyes looked huge and my lashes looked about an inch long.

  ‘You just need some nude lip gloss with that,’ said Rachel. She sighed. ‘I suppose you could borrow this Laura Mercier one …’

  ‘Thanks, Rachel,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ she said. ‘Our family all have to look our best in the public eye at the moment to make up for Mum’s madness.’

  ‘Rebecca!’ called Mum from downstairs. ‘Alice is here! Are you ready? We’d better go!’

  ‘I’ll see you in there later,’ said Rachel. ‘Break a leg!’

  And I was off. Alice had brought the guitar and the keyboard and she looked lovely. Her hair was at its most German and she looked all peachy and glowy.

  ‘Imagine if we were this glamorous all the time,’ I said.

  ‘It’s too much work, really,’ said Alice. ‘We’d never have time for band practice if we spent all our time dressing up and putting on perfect make-up.’

  ‘True,’ I said. We had reached Cass’s house and I ran out to get her. Her little brother Nick answered the door.

  ‘Is Cass there?’ I said.

  ‘No,’ said Nick.

  ‘What?’ I shrieked. Had Cass had an attack of nerves and run away? I knew she was eerily calm this week …

  ‘She’s been kidnapped by aliens,’ said Nick. ‘And they’ve left some stranger with loads of make-up.’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Nick,’ said Cass. She looked lovely and she wasn’t wearing lots of make-up at all. I suppose just a bit of eye shadow and blusher looks like a lot to Nick. Cass hardly wears any eye-make-up usually because of the whole glasses thing (she thinks you can’t see it behind the specs, but you can and it still looks nice) and I don’t think their mum even owns mascara. Speaking of Cass’s mum, she came out to wish us good luck.

  ‘I’m very proud of you all,’ she said. ‘I wish you’d let me and your dad go, Cass.’

  ‘Next time,’ said Cass. ‘Come on, Bex, we’d better go.’

  We said goodbye to Cass’s mum, ignored Nick, and headed to the car.

  ‘Right,’ said Mum. ‘Before we leave this part of town – do you have everything you need? Instruments, drumsticks?’

&
nbsp; We did.

  ‘Right,’ said Mum. ‘We’re off.’

  ‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ I said loftily. ‘I don’t want you to feel bad about actually doing something to improve my life. For once.’

  Mum rolled her eyes and drove on.

  In what seemed like about two seconds, we were in town. Mum dropped us off outside the venue.

  ‘Good luck, girls,’ she said. ‘Are you absolutely and totally sure you don’t want me and your dad to come along later?’

  ‘Yes!’ I cried. ‘But, um, thanks very much for the lift.’

  ‘No problem,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you out here at six, okay? Give me or your dad a ring if there are any problems.’

  So there we were, at our first gig. We each looked at each other, took a deep breath, and headed inside. Cass and I carried her keyboard between us. A young man was standing inside the door checking off names on a list.

  ‘Which band are you?’ he said.

  ‘Hey Dollface,’ said Alice.

  The man grinned and ticked something on his list. ‘Cool name. There’s just three of you, right?’

  We nodded.

  ‘Great. Okay, best of luck!’

  There was a big crowd inside the venue – there were probably about sixty or seventy people there. It was mostly boys.

  ‘Wow,’ whispered Alice, a bit nervously. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever been in a place where there were so many boys and hardly any girls.’

  ‘I have,’ said Cass. ‘When my parents make me go to my stupid brother’s football matches.’ She paused. ‘Though of course they’re all about ten so it doesn’t really count.’

  Everyone was just shuffling around, looking slightly unsure of themselves. Lots of people had taken their guitars out of their cases and were strumming at them quietly. We weren’t the only girls, though, which was cool – there were a couple of girls about our age holding guitars and basses and a few without instruments who turned out to be singers. We were in the minority though. I think that’s why we all ended up catching each other’s eyes and kind of smiling at each other in the crowd.