Find the Girl

by Lucy Connell

  Anyway, during my half-term, Chase and I decided that we desperately needed to have a day together, just us, so that we could both cheer up.

  ‘On one condition,’ Chase had said after we made the plan to meet in London and have a fun day out. ‘Neither of us can talk about work.’

  ‘Deal.’

  It had worked perfectly. We went around London doing loads of touristy things, like visiting the Tower of London and then looking at the amazing yachts on St Katherine Docks, picking out which ones we’d like to own. He’d worn his hoodie and cap, so he wouldn’t get recognized, and it was like it was when we were secretly dating, when for those few hours that we’d see each other we’d forget that he was this big famous music star and I was lying to all my family and friends. We could just be us.

  ‘I’ve missed this,’ he’d said, and grinned when I bought him an I HEART LONDON cap to wear for the day, stuffing his old one in my bag and plonking the new one on his head.

  ‘You’ve missed me making you look ridiculous?’

  ‘Not so much.’ He’d laughed, catching a reflection of himself in the shop mirror. ‘I’ve missed hanging out and acting like teenagers, I guess.’

  ‘We are teenagers.’

  ‘Exactly. Easy to forget sometimes,’ he’d said, before taking an I HEART ENGLAND cap from another stand and going to the till to buy it for me.

  After that day, I’d felt better about everything. I knew we both had a lot of pressure on our shoulders at the moment and we had to expect it to be difficult, especially not living in the same city, but that didn’t stop me from worrying that he might decide it was too hard and give up altogether. He hadn’t been able to get away from the studio another time this week, but he promised me Saturday night, so that was something. I’m a little embarrassed that Nancy and Mum have noticed, though.

  ‘It must be so difficult writing songs,’ Nancy says, leaning back on my duvet. ‘I don’t know how he does it.’

  ‘Yeah, I don’t either. He’s very talented.’

  ‘I can’t wait for some more Chasing Chords songs. I’ve listened to the old album so many times that I reckon I know all the words to every song. I could do with some new material. But don’t tell Chase that – I don’t want his head to get too big.’

  I smile. ‘I won’t.’

  She notices the camera tucked into my bag and pulls it out for a closer look.

  ‘Have you done any videos yet?’

  ‘No, I would tell you if I was going to,’ I assure her. ‘I’d need your help in creating a YouTube channel; I wouldn’t have the first idea how to go about it.’

  ‘Yeah, I figured that. But then I thought Dad might set it up for you.’

  As she mentions him, I feel immediately tense, as though she knows that I’m not telling her the full truth about tonight.

  ‘Nah, I’d want you to help me. And anyway I’m still not sure if I want to do it. Maybe once the Guildhall course is over and I have more time.’

  ‘Maybe. I asked Mum about his PR business, by the way,’ she says, putting the camera back in my bag. ‘You mentioned it the other day when the camera arrived and I wanted to know what you meant.’

  ‘He didn’t tell me much,’ I say, not wanting her to feel as though we’ve had all these deep conversations. ‘It came up really briefly.’

  ‘Did he tell you that he stole all the clients from his old business?’

  ‘What?’ I put the book I’m holding down and stare at her. ‘No, he didn’t steal them. His ex-partner was doing really well after their first company didn’t work out and that pushed Dad to work harder. Then his business grew.’

  ‘That’s not how Mum put it.’ She shrugs. ‘According to her, their company was doing just fine. He didn’t tell his business partner, who was an old friend, that he was launching a new one. He spoke to all the clients in secret and then went ahead and launched it, taking those clients with him. His partner had to move to a different sector; it put him completely out of business. Obviously it was a smart move by Dad though, because he did so well. If you want to look at it that way. He also lost one of his best friends, but I guess loyalty isn’t exactly his strong point.’

  ‘Oh,’ I say, wondering why he hadn’t told me any of that. ‘Right.’

  ‘All I’m saying is, be careful, Nina,’ she says, getting up and walking towards my bedroom door. ‘He’s left you once. I reckon he’d be capable of doing it again.’

  ‘It’s different now. He knows he made a big mistake and he’s trying to make it up to us.’

  ‘He’s trying to make it up to you,’ she says pointedly. ‘I don’t want you getting hurt again.’

  ‘Nancy,’ I say before she heads downstairs, ‘is that why you don’t want to get close to him now? Because you’re scared he’ll hurt you all over again?’

  ‘Maybe,’ she says. ‘Aren’t you?’

  I wait outside the Guildhall music department for half an hour until I decide I might as well go in and wait for Dad inside where it’s warm. Even though spring is definitely on its way, it’s still quite cold out, so I go into the music practice room and check my phone again to make sure he hasn’t messaged to let me know he’s running late.

  Nothing.

  I take my sheet music out from my bag and place it on the stand, lifting the lid of the piano and wiggling my fingers, ready to start playing. I smile to myself, thinking how weird it is that, no matter how badly it seems to be going right now, I still can’t wait to play the piano. Without thinking, I place my fingers down on the keys and, ignoring the sheet music, I start playing one of my favourite Austin Golding songs that I know by heart. I haven’t played any of my favourite composer’s music in weeks and I remember how good it feels, how much I love it.

  I’m so engrossed in the music that I don’t notice a face at the window watching me play until I come to the end and the door creaks open. Holding the door open with his foot, Jordan crosses his arms.

  ‘If you’re going to play something as simple as Austin Golding at the showcase, then I really do have that summer school place in the bag,’ he sneers.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I’ve been coming to Guildhall every Friday night to practise before the weekend begins. You’ll find that most of the really dedicated students have. I was annoyed when I found out this room had been booked for the evening.’ He checks his watch. ‘You have it for another hour, right?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say, noticing the time and realizing that Dad is now an hour late.

  ‘I’ll let you get back to your “piano for beginners” music, then,’ he says, giving me a salute as he leaves the room.

  I wait until I can no longer hear his footsteps echoing down the corridor before I close the piano and get up to leave. It’s childish of me, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of having the best practice room, even though there’s no point in me being here now anyway. As I gather my music together to leave, Dad comes through the door followed by a woman I don’t recognize.

  ‘Nina, I’m so sorry we’re late!’ he says, coming over to give me a hug. ‘I got stuck at work because of this huge deal I’m working on and, argh, I won’t bother to bore you with the details but unfortunately it would seem a few of my staff are completely incompetent. I have to do everything myself.’

  ‘No worries,’ I say, pleased to see him but very aware there’s a strange woman in the room too. She is slowly turning round on the spot, taking in every aspect of the room and breathing very deeply.

  Dad sees me staring at her and claps his hands together suddenly, making me jump.

  ‘Nina, I would like to introduce you to Simone. Simone, this is my daughter, Nina.’

  Simone looks as though she’s just come from reading people’s futures in a circus tent. She is wearing a long, flowing woollen poncho with multicoloured tassels all down it, and her heavily lined eyes are framed by large, round, orange-framed glasses. Her brown hair is tied up loosely by a scarf and she has enormous, dan
gling earrings that swing about her neck every time her head moves.

  ‘Yes, this is a good space,’ she says, nodding vigorously.

  ‘This is your surprise, Nina! Simone is one of the top music teachers in the country. She’s worked with every famous pop star you can think of,’ Dad says proudly, while looking at his phone. ‘She’s going to help you with the showcase.’

  ‘She is? Sorry, I mean –’ I turn to address her – ‘you are?’

  ‘Your father tells me you need help climbing the ladder of success,’ she says, waving her arms up dramatically and forcing me to dodge backwards so I don’t get hit in the face. ‘I am the person who will get you there. Any famous pop star you can think of, I was the one who put them on the map.’

  ‘Um … OK,’ I say, looking to Dad for help but he’s too distracted by his phone.

  ‘Let’s start with your diaphragm, because if you want to sing like a goddess then you must breathe like one!’ she shrieks, flouncing to the middle of the room.

  ‘Oh, I don’t sing.’

  ‘You shall,’ she says, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. ‘You shall!’

  ‘No, sorry, I think there’s been a mistake,’ I say, laughing nervously. ‘I’m a pianist, not a singer. I’m playing the piano in the showcase.’

  ‘Nina, if you want to win this thing, you’re going to have to think differently,’ Dad says, before running a hand through his hair and yelling at his phone, ‘WHY doesn’t anyone in my office have the ability to take some initiative?’

  ‘Dad, what are you talking about?’ I ask, taking a step away from Simone, who has now flopped forward so that her hands are dangling by her feet and appears to be murmuring some kind of chant to herself.

  He looks up from his phone and then gestures at Simone.

  ‘This is how you’re going to beat everyone else and how you’re going to get over your stage fright. Simone will sort you out. You’re not just a pianist – you’re a full package. A singer-songwriter. It’s a good idea, right?’

  He taps the side of his head smugly.

  ‘No, it’s not a good idea,’ I tell him, panicking. ‘Look, sorry, Dad, but I’m not a singer. And, even if I was, I can’t even play the piano in front of an audience – how are you expecting me to sing in front of one?’

  ‘That’s why Simone is here.’ Dad puts his hands on my shoulders. ‘Follow her instructions and those talent scouts won’t know what’s hit them.’

  ‘What talent scouts?’

  ‘Ah, second part of your surprise.’ He grins. ‘There are going to be talent scouts in the audience of your showcase! And they’re there to see you. It’s all arranged so you don’t need to worry about any of that – you just focus on doing your thing. Oh, which reminds me, when are you going to launch that YouTube channel? I didn’t send you that camera for nothing.’

  I stare at him in horror as he gets back to his phone. Talent scouts are going to be in the audience. As if I wasn’t nervous enough already, now I have to worry about performing in front of talent scouts? I’m not ready for this.

  ‘Dad, I don’t –’

  ‘Ah, I have to take this,’ he says apologetically, holding up his phone screen to show a call coming through. ‘I have to go. Have fun though – I’ll call you tomorrow to hear how it goes.’

  ‘Wait, you’re leaving? I thought we were spending the evening together.’

  ‘I have too much work to do, but you’re in good hands.’ He smiles, squeezing my arm. ‘Simone is what we need to get the ball rolling. Ah –’ his phone stops and starts ringing again – ‘I really have to take this. Good luck, Nina!’

  ‘Wait, Dad –’

  He answers the phone and leaves the room. Simone summons me to stand in front of her and tells me to follow her lead. Lifting her hands high above her head, she stretches out her fingers and then flops forward again, swinging her arms from side to side. Not knowing what else I can possibly do in this moment, I attempt to do the same.

  As I hang there with my head by my knees, swinging my arms left to right, I hear a loud cackle by the door. I glance up to see Jordan peering through the window of the door, laughing so much that he’s wiping his eyes. I straighten up immediately, but it’s too late. I know I won’t hear the end of this. I bury my head in my hands, dreading tomorrow.

  And here I was thinking things couldn’t get any worse.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Nancy

  A cow is looking at me in a very suspicious manner.

  ‘Is it just me, or is that cow about to charge?’ I ask nervously. ‘I’m not a big fan of the glare she’s giving me.’

  ‘You’re thinking of bulls,’ Miles replies, laughing as he holds out his hand to help me jump over a puddle. ‘That cow is minding her own business and you’re traipsing through her field. No wonder she’s glaring.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be traipsing through her field if you would let me have my phone back so I can check my map,’ I huff, putting my hands on my hips. ‘We’re lost because of you.’

  ‘What’s the point in a countryside walk if you’re going to stick to roads?’ He grins, throwing his hands up. ‘This is what it’s all about! Fresh air and proper fields.’

  He watches in amusement as I carefully dodge another muddy puddle.

  ‘You know that the point of boots is that you can walk through puddles, right? They’re waterproof. They’re designed to withstand tiny patches of water,’ he points out.

  ‘Why are there so many puddles in this field, anyway?’ I ask, ignoring his comment. ‘It must have rained so much overnight. I told you we should have stayed in a nice cosy cafe or gone to the milkshake bar. Then we could be inside and warm right now, and not being stared at by angry cows.’

  ‘And miss out on hearing you scream every time you see some kind of animal in nature?’ He laughs. ‘Never. Coming here was the best decision I’ve made in a long time.’

  When Miles rang and asked if he could come for one of those countryside walks across Norfolk that Mum had mentioned weeks ago in the shop to him, I thought he was joking. But then he turned up at the station, wellies in tow, ready to ‘enjoy the real outdoors’. I tried talking him out of it but he was set on the activity, and now here we are, in the middle of nowhere. He put the phone rule in place an hour or so ago when he wanted to take a path through a woodland that wasn’t on my map. He confiscated my phone and said that today we would be following our instincts, rather than going by a digital map. It turns out that path led to another weird, creepy woodland path, which led to a huge field with a public walkway, which led us to another field and now to this field.

  I have to admit, at this stage, I’m a little bored of fields.

  ‘I’m glad you’re enjoying this,’ I say grumpily, tripping over a stray mound of grass and steadying myself. ‘Not exactly how you’d expect a pop star to spend his weekends.’

  ‘Actually, this is just what I needed. I had to get out of London; it gets very claustrophobic there.’

  ‘How is that possible? It’s massive.’

  ‘I know.’ He shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. ‘I felt like I needed some space to breathe. Thanks for inviting me here for the weekend. I seriously appreciate it.’

  ‘If I’m honest, you kind of invited yourself,’ I point out. ‘But I’m pleased you did. It’s really nice to see you. It’s been a while since the party.’

  He nods and makes his way over to the wooden fence at the edge of the field. Hoisting himself up, he sits on it, resting his muddy boots on the lower rail, and looks out across the field.

  ‘Hey.’ He grins and ushers me to come and join him. ‘You have to see this view.’

  ‘Is it just a load more fields?’ I sigh, making my way through the squelchy mud and climbing up on the fence, before plonking myself next to him and leaning on a post. I’m right, it is a load more fields, but it’s also really beautiful looking out across them. It’s so peaceful and quiet, except for the odd moo from a grumpy cow. We sit i
n silence for a moment, enjoying the view.

  I know that he purposefully avoided me bringing up the subject of the party but I don’t want to push him on it. When I asked him on the phone why he needed to get out of London so badly, he went on about needing space to breathe and a break from everything going on.

  I had asked him what it was exactly that was going on and he’d said it was nothing.

  ‘Is it something to do with why you suddenly left the party?’ I’d asked, taking my chances, but he’d brushed that question aside, moving on to a different subject.

  I didn’t want him to think he couldn’t tell me stuff so I tried a different tack later on in the conversation, when he was thanking me again for letting him come to Norfolk this weekend.

  ‘It’s really no problem,’ I’d assured him, trying to pretend I wasn’t dancing round my room in excitement. ‘As long as it’s OK with everyone else that you’re spending the day away from London? You know, as long as it doesn’t annoy anyone in particular.’

  ‘Who in particular would be annoyed by me leaving London for the day?’ he’d asked.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Your girlfriend or someone.’

  In my head, it was supposed to come out very cool and collected, as though it was a casual, fleeting thought. Not a big deal, just a normal thing to say. But, as soon as I said the words, I regretted them straight away. It was so OBVIOUS what I was asking and then, because I was panicking about how transparent I’d been, my brain went into overdrive and I started saying things that didn’t even make sense, which made everything ten times worse.

  ‘Or your family. Girlfriend or family. Or friends. Anyone you might have made plans with at the weekend. Because that’s what you do. Make plans. I mean, not you specifically, although I’m sure you do make plans. I mean, you plural. Like, people. People make plans at the weekend with their friends and family and girlfriends. If they have them. Like, I make plans at the weekend with Mum or Nina or Jimmy, and if I went off for the day, like you’re planning on doing, they might wonder where I was and stuff. So, I’m just checking that no one will be wondering that for you.’