by Lucy Connell
Trying to ignore him, I push past and he gets a look at the title at the top of the page.
‘Grieg’s Notturno, I see,’ he says, his sneer replaced with a thin-lipped smile. ‘Ambitious. I wonder where you got the idea to try that? I suppose imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Well, if you need any tips on the hard bits, don’t hesitate to ask. I often play it as a little warm-up before I try any challenging pieces.’
He heads to his lesson, chuckling to himself all the way down the corridor. I get to an empty piano room and slam the door behind me, leaning against it and having a moment to collect myself. I can’t let him get to me. I look down at the sheet music and shake my head. He’s right. I should be able to play this without thinking. I feel so embarrassed that I thought playing pieces by a contemporary composer like Austin Golding might impress anyone here at Guildhall. I’ll have to work twice as hard over the next few weeks. Attending Guildhall one day is my dream and I’m not going to mess that up now.
I just wish I didn’t feel like a failure already.
‘So, how is it all going?’ Chase asks later that day.
We’re sitting in the kitchen near my room, drinking mugs of hot chocolate. I wanted to go out to meet him but he insisted on coming to Guildhall. He wanted to see what it was like and where I was staying. I decided not to say anything about him popping by as I didn’t want any nasty comments from Jordan or for anyone to make a fuss, so I asked him to come after we’d all had dinner, knowing that everyone would be in practice rooms working on their music for tomorrow’s lessons.
‘It’s OK. I’m struggling a little with the performance side of things.’ I sigh, clasping the warm mug in my hands. ‘I’m sure you won’t be surprised to hear that.’
Chase gives me an encouraging smile. ‘Being onstage isn’t easy.’
‘It’s embarrassing how bad I am. You can’t be a concert pianist if you can’t play to an audience.’
Chase shrugs. ‘Which is why you’re here: to work on that. Nobody is perfect, Nina. Not even Caroline Morreau.’
‘I know that, but I don’t think she’s all that impressed with my progress so far,’ I admit. ‘She made that clear this afternoon.’
As well as our solo pieces, we’re going to perform a group orchestral piece in the showcase at the end of the course, so while our one-on-one lessons are in the mornings, our afternoons are made up of group practices, which involve all the students. In our group rehearsal after lunch, we’d gathered in this huge orchestral room ready to work on the piece that we’ll be performing together at the end of the showcase. There were two piano parts: Piano One and Piano Two.
Without saying a word, Caroline held out the Piano One part to Jordan and the Piano Two part to me.
‘Guess it’s talent before celebrity. No hard feelings,’ Jordan had said, taking the music sheet from Caroline and going to sit at the piano closest to the orchestra.
I clutch my mug of chocolate tightly as I recall how small he’d made me feel in that moment.
‘What happened?’ Chase asks, watching me curiously. ‘How did she make it clear that she’s not impressed with you?’
‘Nothing. It doesn’t matter,’ I say, forcing a smile. ‘Anyway, enough about me – what’s going on with you?’
‘What do you mean?’ he asks, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.
‘How are you? How’s your week been?’ I give him a funny look as he stares down at his mug. ‘Chase, why are you acting so cagey all of a sudden?’
‘I’m not.’
‘Yes, you are.’ I laugh. ‘I just asked how you were doing and now you’re barely looking at me.’
‘I’ve had a busy week, that’s all.’
‘I know, I’ve hardly heard from you,’ I mention pointedly. ‘What are you so busy doing? I thought you were supposed to be having some time off. Nancy’s been keeping me updated with what the rest of the band are up to; she’s shown me all their Instagram pictures and, from the looks of it, they’re having a really nice time seeing friends and family, going off on holiday. How come you’re not doing the same?’
‘They’re not the ones who write the music,’ he replies.
‘So, you’ve been busy writing music? Chase, you’re supposed to be taking some time out for yourself. It’s not good for you to never give yourself a break. I thought we were going to be spending time together.’
‘We are,’ he snaps. ‘I’m here now, aren’t I?’
His tone stings and neither of us says anything. The silence is unbearable.
‘Sorry,’ he says eventually, reaching across the table. ‘I didn’t mean that the way it came out.’
I nod, letting him take my hand.
‘And I’m sorry I’ve been busy. I know I promised that we’d be hanging out a lot,’ he says in a gentler voice. ‘I’ll make it up to you, OK? Trust me.’
‘OK,’ I say, attempting a smile. ‘It’s fine. I’ve hardly got any time anyway, with this taking up all my weekends and practising in between. Homework, too.’
‘We’ll make the time,’ he says firmly, and the knot in my stomach begins to unravel. ‘I wasn’t expecting this week to be so busy, but I’m really happy to be here now with you.’
He gets up and walks round to stand behind me, leaning forward and wrapping his arms round me, his chin resting on my shoulder. I turn my head to his, pressing my forehead against his cheek. I think about asking him more questions about why he’s been so busy because, despite apologizing, he still hasn’t explained what it is that’s been taking up all his time. But I don’t want to ruin this moment.
Unfortunately, Jordan does instead.
The door to the kitchen swings open and he strolls in with his mug, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees us at the table. He purses his lips and walks round to the kettle, filling it from the tap and putting it on in silence. I can’t believe my bad luck. Of all the people to walk in here while Chase was with me, it HAD to be Jordan. I’m embarrassed that he’s seen us together, as though it’s somehow further proof of his ridiculous theory that Chase is the reason I’m on the course. I quickly nudge Chase’s arms off me.
With no idea who Jordan is or what he thinks, Chase acts exactly how he normally would if anyone had walked into the kitchen.
He smiles, holding out his hand to Jordan. ‘Hey, I’m Chase.’
Jordan glances at his outstretched hand and for a horrible moment I think he might not take it, which would make things more awkward than ever, but thankfully, after a few moments’ consideration, he does.
‘Jordan,’ he says coolly.
‘Are you on the music course with Nina, too? Or are you an actor? I know there’s a drama course on too, isn’t there?’ Chase says enthusiastically, unaware of any tension.
‘I’m on the music course. I’m a pianist.’
‘Cool.’ Chase nods. ‘You must be really good, like Nina.’
I notice Jordan’s bemused eyes flicker towards me, but he doesn’t say anything. The kettle pings and he pours the boiling water on to the teabag in his mug.
‘Are you enjoying the course?’ Chase continues, leaning against the counter. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to Guildhall.’
That sparks Jordan’s attention and I regret not dragging Chase away the moment Jordan walked through the door. I quickly get up from my chair and put my mug and Chase’s into the dishwasher.
‘You, Chase Hunter, wanted to go to Guildhall? A music school?’ Jordan asks.
‘Yeah, I know,’ Chase admits with a self-deprecating smile. ‘The band thing kind of happened by accident and I actually always thought I’d end up going to study music somewhere like this. I guess it’s never too late. Maybe one day I’ll be able to get on a course like this one.’
‘But Guildhall is for proper musicians,’ Jordan says slowly, as though explaining something simple to a child who isn’t getting it.
Chase stares at him. ‘What did you say?’
‘Come on, Chase – let’s go,’ I say hu
rriedly, grabbing his hand and dragging him from the kitchen and down the stairs, out into the cold.
‘Who was that guy?’ Chase asks, shoving his hands in his pockets. ‘What did he mean?’
‘He’s just … difficult. It doesn’t matter.’
‘Are all the people on your course like that?’
‘No. Only him. He’s a bit of a loser.’
‘Yeah, just a bit,’ Chase grumbles, shaking his head. ‘I hope you don’t start thinking like him.’
‘What? Chase, how can you even say that?’
‘I don’t know,’ he says. ‘If enough people tell you that pop music isn’t “proper” music, maybe you’ll start believing it.’
I take a step closer to him and link my fingers through his.
‘Don’t be silly. I think you’re amazing.’
I feel him physically relax and he squeezes my fingers tightly, before pulling me to his chest.
‘I think you’re amazing,’ he says, and sighs. ‘And I’m sorry I can’t stay longer.’
‘It’s OK. I should go get some practice in before bed,’ I say, checking my watch.
We stroll together towards the road and he hails a taxi, kissing me goodbye.
‘Chase,’ I say, stopping him as he opens the car door, still distracted by our earlier conversation about how busy he is. ‘You know you can tell me anything, right?’
He smiles, my stomach turning to butterflies as usual at the sight of those dimples.
‘Of course.’
But as the taxi pulls away and I watch him disappear down the road, I can’t shake the feeling that Chase is hiding something from me.
CHAPTER SIX
Nancy
‘Mum, what is this?’
‘Well, what does it look like? It’s a pair of earmuffs! If you could pop them all on that stand by the door, that would be very helpful.’
I hold the object at arm’s length and wrinkle my nose. The headband is bright neon green and on each end there’s a fluffy earmuff in the shape of a giant seashell. I put the first one on the stand as instructed and reach down into the box to pull out some more. I can’t believe I’m spending my Saturday like this. I’m working at the weekend voluntarily. But last night when we got back from school and Nina started packing her bag, ready to head off for another weekend in London, I got a horrible sinking feeling. That feeling of being left behind. Of having nothing to do. Of feeling … purpose-less. As I watched Nina neatly fold her clothes and get her music in order, I realized that, unlike everyone around me, I have nothing figured out. Nina is all about her music, Jimmy has a clear path set out in journalism, Chase is already a star who is on his way to even bigger things …
How come everyone has life goals except for me?
It made me feel really sad thinking about it. Usually, when I’m feeling down, I go into my room and play music until I feel better. Music has always been able to make me feel good about myself. Not the classical relaxing stuff that Nina is always trying to get me to listen to, but pop music like Chasing Chords’ albums, my favourite show songs or movie soundtracks. After the car accident last year, I had some trouble sleeping, but music helped me through that. I’ve even created various playlists depending on what kind of mood I’m in.
But, no matter what songs I listened to, nothing cheered me up. I still felt like I was sitting around, wasting valuable time, completely directionless. I had to do something. I didn’t want to spend all weekend feeling that way, so I ended up taking Jimmy’s advice and asking Mum if she needed any help at the shop. This way, at least I’m busy and I’m not constantly scrolling through Instagram, seeing how amazing and fulfilled everyone else’s life is compared to mine.
Although, now that I’m here staring at a pair of seashell earmuffs, I’m not really sure what I was thinking.
‘I’ve bought a lot of coastal-themed products recently,’ Mum tells me enthusiastically. ‘Tourists come from far and wide to see our beautiful Norfolk coastline and quirky things like that always sell well.’
‘I find that hard to believe,’ I mumble. ‘Who would ever buy these? And then actually wear them?’
‘They look a lot better on,’ Mum insists, walking over and grabbing a pair to model them. ‘You see?’
I burst out laughing. ‘You look ridiculous!’
With a mischievous smile, she takes another pair from the box and pops them on me.
‘Now we both do!’
‘Very funny!’ I smile, pulling them off and throwing them back in the box as quickly as possible. Luckily, there were no customers in the shop to witness my humiliation. ‘So, are you going to wear these on your date tonight?’
Mum blushes, taking the earmuffs off and carefully placing them on the stand.
‘I thought I’d ask you to help me pick what to wear later actually,’ she says. ‘When we get home. Would that be OK? I have a few outfits in mind, but I feel so out of the dating game that I’m not really sure what sort of thing I should be wearing for a dinner date.’
‘Don’t be silly, Mum – you should wear what you want. But of course I’ll help you out. I’ve got nothing else to do, anyway,’ I add.
You know things are bad when your mum has a Saturday-night date and you don’t. Mum still hasn’t told us anything about this guy she’s dating, even though Nina and I did our best at probing her all week. Every time we slid in a question about where they met or what he looks like or what his job is, she’d bat us away and remind us that it was very early days. If things got more serious, then MAYBE she’d give us some more information.
I don’t know why she feels the need to be so secretive about it. Nina and I think it’s brilliant that Mum is dating someone. She hasn’t been interested in anyone since Dad left, and he walked out on us YEARS ago.
She never talks about it unless we ask, but it took her a long time to move on from Dad. He was her first love; they were childhood sweethearts. She really believed they’d be together forever and, when he left, I think she thought he would come back. I guess one day it dawned on her that wasn’t going to happen, so she packed us up and moved us here to Norfolk.
Sometimes I think about that time and realize how amazing Mum is. It can’t have been easy going through a divorce, moving house and basically having a complete life overhaul while trying to look after two children on your own.
I get so angry at Dad, thinking about those days. How could he leave us like that? Just walk out and then pretend that Nina and I don’t exist? I have all these happy memories of him before he left that I wish I could delete from my brain. He worked long hours and we didn’t see him much during the week as he’d travel a lot for work too, but we would have these amazing days in London at the weekend where we’d go for dinner and then see a show, and he’d have organized all of it. He’s the whole reason Nina and I love musicals. And it was Dad who got Nina into the piano in the first place. He encouraged her to take lessons and to practise every evening, telling her that she was going to be his big superstar.
Sometimes I wonder whether I’m making these memories up, because he can’t have been very happy for him to not only leave us but also to make almost no effort to see us afterwards. A Christmas card every year. That’s it.
When it arrived in the post this year, I recognized his handwriting and tried to put it in the bin straight away but Nina wouldn’t let me. She got all funny about it and when I asked her why on EARTH she’d care about some flimsy Christmas card from him, she didn’t say anything – she just read it a few times and put it up on her desk in her room. I don’t understand why she’d want to keep it.
‘Let her,’ Mum had said to me gently, when Nina was out with Chase and I had voiced my opinion on the matter. ‘It means something to her.’
‘A stupid Christmas card? He hasn’t tried to visit us in years, and she thinks him sending a Christmas card to us is meaningful? I’m surprised he even gets our names right.’
‘Nina is different to you. She’s more sensitive. For her,
that card is a connection to her father.’
I’d rolled my eyes very pointedly, but decided that Mum was right and I should let it go. Nina could do what she wanted, but, as far as I was concerned, I didn’t need a connection to the man who walked out on his family and never looked back.
I think it’s great that Mum is dating someone new. Although, obviously, if things get more serious, I’m going to need to do some proper vetting of this guy. Mum deserves the best.
‘Is your date picking you up this evening?’ I ask casually.
‘No, Nancy,’ Mum replies, shooting me a knowing look. ‘And don’t try to be sly – I know why you’re asking that. We’re meeting at the restaurant, so he doesn’t have to worry about being asked a million and one questions by my mischievous daughter at the front door. I don’t want to put him off this early on.’
‘Hey!’ I huff. ‘I would be nothing but politeness itself.’
‘Sure,’ she says, smiling to herself as she checks some paperwork. ‘I just need to pop into the back for a bit. Are you OK to man the shop on your own?’
I nod and she disappears, leaving me to finish the earmuff stand. Once I’m done, I flatten the empty box and take it behind the counter. As I bend down to put the cardboard by the door to the back office, the bell above the shop door rings. I straighten up, ready to welcome the customers.
My jaw drops when I see who it is.
‘Hey, Nancy,’ Layla says, walking towards me with Sophie happily trotting along behind her. ‘You’re not answering your phone.’
‘I have to leave it behind the till when I’m working,’ I explain, completely baffled. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘There are some really cool things in this shop,’ Sophie says, picking up handmade candles from a shelf and smelling each one. ‘Do we get a discount?’
‘I’m not sure, but I can ask. Were you after something specific?’
‘Actually,’ Layla says, frowning as Sophie tries on a hat with two green pom-poms on it, ‘we’re not here to buy anything. We were looking for you. When you didn’t answer your phone, we tried Jimmy and he said you were working here today.’
