Tasmin was often not there at mealtimes and if she was, she ate then ran, always busy seeing Clover or friends. I didn’t feel as though I could do that without appearing rude. Uncle Mike liked to have music – country blues – on in the background and he seemed to manage to screen out his sons’ competing voices and listen to the CDs. Dad still absented himself from these meals saying that he preferred to eat later. I knew he couldn’t handle the noise level either. I often caught Mum watching me across the dining table. She’d smile at me sympathetically. She knew that I found it hard too.
After supper, I always made sure that I helped with the clearing up. I didn’t want Aunt Karen or Uncle Mike to think that I took anything for granted. The boys were good at mucking in too. Aunt Karen had them well trained and, as the adults took their coffees into the sitting room to watch the news, Jo and Jake stacked the dishwasher then disappeared fast to play their computer games. I wiped the surfaces down then went to put out the rubbish for the bin men in the morning.
When I reached the street, I saw Niall was also putting out rubbish. I was about to turn back but it was too late – he was bound to have seen me. I tried to think up something funny to say about the bins but he turned away before I got a chance to say anything. I knew he’d seen me just as clearly as I’d seen him. I must have really annoyed him when I saw him in the garden but he could have at least said hi, I thought as I went back inside, where the noise levels seemed to have grown.
The TV was on in the sitting room, Uncle Mike had moved into the kitchen and was playing his guitar along to a soundtrack, and Aunt Karen was talking to someone on the phone – or rather shouting to make herself heard over the din. I went through and watched a bit of TV but the boys wanted to watch the cartoon channel, which I found boring after a while. Plus, it was hard to concentrate with Mum and Aunt Karen chatting away in the background and Simon on some very annoying and loud PlayStation game. I didn’t blame Dad for making himself scarce. I went back upstairs to read. One day I will have my own life, I told myself. I had my plan. Get my GCSEs, do A levels, apply for uni in London, move back to my home ground and share a flat with Allegra and have some space.
When I got back up to the room, I decided to tidy up my half. I didn’t dare touch Tasmin’s stuff though it drove me mad the way she left everything out and never ever closed drawers. Still, it’s her room, she can do what she likes, I reminded myself. I found my iPod, put my earphones in and pressed play as I put a few books into a pile. The first track began to play. Great, I thought as Aunt Karen’s house, and the noise within it, receded to be replaced by a ballad accompanied by piano. It was one of my favourite tracks so far.
All alone yet so many voices in my head,
removed from my life, may as well be half dead.
I’m in a dream, in a haze,
looking for love, a way out of this daze.
Where is the life I knew? Those sun-filled rooms?
Once so full of hope, now I see cobwebs, reminders of how things used to be.
There was a break for the piano. The whole piece was poignant, full of sadness and longing. Like so many of the other tracks, it really spoke to me. The words articulated my experience exactly. Every track on the CD expressed different feelings but mainly seemed to be about someone searching for love, searching for who they were. I could relate to them all.
The more I’d listened to the CD over the weeks since I’d got it, I began to think that whoever had made it was telling a story through the tracks that they’d chosen. The progression of a love affair from loneliness to first attraction, a girl who stood out from the crowd, someone special, hope, dreams of how things might be. The later tracks were full of hope, reaching out to a soulmate. What happened? Did he find her? And can I find him? I asked myself as I took out my earphones, picked up the CD case from by the bed and examined the cover.
It was definitely homemade and, as I studied it, I could make out how it had been created. It was a paper collage of two, maybe three, pages from a magazine. I looked more closely. Two pages. The top page had been ripped up in strips then stuck down vertically on top of the page beneath, leaving gaps a couple of centimetres apart so you could see through to the image below as if looking through bars. On the top page, I could make out an abstract image of a girl in four colours: red, black, brown and a flesh tone. In the top right, there was an upturned face in profile, the eye heavily made up. The face was large in proportion to the rest of the body, which was shown in the bottom right. I could make out a red skirt, a leg with a green high heel.
As I stared at the image, it became clearer. The body was falling away to the bottom right. In the centre was a black mark, which could represent hair but as I looked closer, I realised it was a crotchet from a music score. I focused on the image that had been placed underneath and that could be seen through the gaps between the torn strips on top. It was a photograph in browns and blues and was harder to make out than the top ripped page. To the right, I could see a boy’s head, taken from high above. Brown hair, an eyebrow, a nose, to the left a jean-clad hip and leg. In the centre, his hand over a . . . what was it? Maybe a guitar? As I refocused on both images, I saw that they had been placed so that the boy’s head appeared to be in the girl’s mind. Clever, I thought as I turned the CD case over.
On the back was a black-and-white photograph. I had glanced at it when I’d seen it in the charity shop but hadn’t looked at it properly since. It was a figure, a boy by a window looking out on a building opposite – red brick not Bath stone, I could tell that much. Above was clear sky. I screwed my eyes up to see if I could make out the boy’s face. I couldn’t. His features were dark because he was in silhouette against the window, buildings and sky behind him. I couldn’t tell if he was facing the camera or turned away. I was more intrigued than ever. Who was this boy? I’d really like to find him. Talk to him. Find out what the story was. Why he’d made the CD and why it ended up in a box of jumble in a charity shop. I got up to look for my pencil case. When I found it, I pulled out my magnifying glass. I’d just gone back to studying the photograph when Tasmin and Clover walked in.
Clover sat next to me and I could smell that she’d been drinking alcohol. ‘What you doing?’
Tasmin sat on her bed opposite Clover and I and glanced at the CD case in my hand. ‘Been listening to some music?’
Clover took the case out of my hand. ‘What is it?’
‘That CD that Aunt Karen bought for me from the charity shop near here.’
‘Oh yeah, there were some good tracks as I remember,’ said Tasmin.
‘Yes, it’s really good, although I don’t recognise any of the tracks,’ I replied. ‘From the case, it looks like a homemade compilation.’ I didn’t elaborate on how the music had made me feel in case they asked why I felt they spoke to me. I would have felt too exposed if I revealed how lost I was at the moment.
Clover was examining the CD case and opened it. ‘There’s a list of the tracks and the bands on the inside sleeve.’
Tasmin leant forward. ‘Let’s have a look.’
She got up and took the CD case from Clover and scrutinised the list inside. I could smell that she’d been drinking alcohol too, but didn’t say anything in case they told me that it was none of my business. ‘I know some of these bands, most of them in fact. They’re local.’
Local? I thought. In that case, the boy who made the CD probably is as well.
‘Let’s have a listen then,’ said Clover.
I didn’t admit that I had the music on my iPod because it was my private refuge from the world and I didn’t want to talk about that. However, Tasmin took the CD out of the case, put it in the CD player and pressed play. A soundtrack filled the room. The girls lay back, Clover on my bed, so we were top and tail, and Tasmin on hers.
So now your world is broken and dark clouds fill the air,
And you’re living in the shadows, full of sadness, doubt and fear.
There’s a light that shines within
you, it gets brighter as you learn
That happiness isn’t given, it’s something that is earned.
Take a look around you, find the one among a crowd
And though you’ve never met him, you’ll call his name out loud
‘Bit gloomy in the beginning,’ said Tasmin when the track had finished and she clicked the CD off. I didn’t think so. I loved the lyrics and the sentiment that somewhere out there might be someone who could rescue you from the shadows.
Clover picked up the CD case. ‘I know this band,’ she said. ‘They’re called Overheated. They’re a Bristol band. I’ve heard them play. Some of the others are from here in Bath though.’
‘Do you think that whoever made it lives here in Bath?’ I asked.
‘Maybe, and if not, they live somewhere nearby,’ said Tasmin. She took the case from Clover and looked at the photo on the back. ‘The buildings on the photo on the back don’t look like Bath, though it could be – there are a lot of new builds here as well as all the ancient buildings. Do you think it’s him on the back, the boy who made it?’
‘I was wondering,’ I said.
Tasmin picked up my magnifying glass and, just as I had, scrutinised the CD case, then Clover did the same.
‘A mystery,’ said Clover as she screwed her eyes up trying to see the boy’s face.
‘A mystery boy,’ said Tasmin. ‘I like a mystery.’
‘I know this might sound mad,’ I said, ‘but I’d like to try and find him.’
Clover and Tasmin looked at each other then Tasmin nodded.
‘Could be fun,’ she said.
‘Yeah, I’m in,’ said Clover.
The quest to find the mystery boy begins, I thought. Excellent.
Chapter Eleven
Mystery Boy
‘A heart to love, and in that heart
Courage to make’s love known?’
Shakespeare: Macbeth – Act 2, Scene 3.
I finished the CD last week and spent the weekend making a cover. I wanted to make something that would stand out. Not a heart. Way too soppy. Not flowers. My girl deserves something unique. A piece of art with a message hidden for her to find. A message that also says I’d noticed her and saw that she was different. I’d leave clues in the artwork so she can track me down. Will she get them? Or will I have to reveal myself to her later?
I tried many designs and one almost worked but I wanted something of me to be in it as well. I was flipping through a magazine when I saw it. A painting of a girl, just about the right size for a CD cover. It looked like she was floating in the air, her face upturned, her body falling away beneath her. I’ll make a collage, I thought. That will work.
I ripped the page from the magazine into four strips. I put a photo of me down first then stuck strips of the ripped page on top like prison bars. Through the bars, she’d be able to see part of me but not enough that she’d recognise me. I wanted her to listen to the tracks, get to know me and how I feel through them as well as relate to them herself. I also wanted her to know that I am someone who knows she’s special. On the back of the CD case, I put a black-and-white photo of myself, silhouetted against the window, my face in shadow.
I hoped she’d be intrigued.
Chapter Twelve
‘Alex Taylor said to say hi,’ said Allegra when we had our Skype catch-up later that evening. Tasmin had gone over to Clover’s house so I’d been left on my own again. I could have gone with her but I wanted to talk to Allegra and then start my search for the mystery boy by looking on the internet for some of the bands on the Songs for Sarah playlist. I couldn’t stop thinking about the music and the boy who had made it because, as well as the tracks expressing how I’d been feeling lately, I got this strange sensation that I was meant to find the CD. I’m not normally fatalistic. I believe you have to make things happen in your life but I felt it was somehow meant for me.
‘Paige, are you listening?’ said Allegra.
‘Yes. Wow. Alex Taylor? To me?’ I felt my heart flutter at the mention of his name.
‘Yeah, course to you, dummy. And there’s more. He said he has a cousin or some relative near Bath and maybe you could meet up next time he’s there.’ Allegra grinned out at me from the screen.
All thoughts about the CD melted away in the light of this news. ‘Me? No way!’ Alex here in Bath? That would be amazing. ‘He did say something about having lived here before London and that he sometimes comes back but I didn’t think he really meant it.’ My mind was off already imagining his visit. I could meet him in Society Café that Tasmin had shown me in Kingsmead Square.
‘Good hey? I think he’s interested because he asked a bit about you – how you’re getting on down here and stuff. I’ve been asking around about him too and he is currently unattached.’
‘But he must have a million girls after him.’
‘So? Doesn’t mean he didn’t notice you. You’re a very striking girl.’ Allegra said the last sentence in the posh voice of her mother. Course my doubt about Alex being interested in me set Allegra off on one of her ‘have more confidence in yourself’ lectures. Allegra was always Miss Popular with the boys. Not me though, which is why I lack confidence. My boy experience was zilch apart from the time Simon Martin got drunk at a Christmas party and tried to snog me in the conservatory. It was disgusting. His breath was sour from beer and he threw up over a pot plant five minutes later. It was my first kiss – not exactly the stuff of romance to cherish forever. Secretly I felt anxious about kissing and wondered if I’d be any good at it when I met someone I actually liked.
I felt on a high when I ended the call with Allegra. Alex Taylor maybe coming to Bath and he wants to meet up with me! I went on to Facebook to remind myself of his handsome face. Ohmigod, I thought as I found my page. There was a friend request from him. I quickly clicked confirm and, moments later, I was able to look at his page and his photos. Album after album: his skiing holiday; him by a pool with a bunch of mates, loads of him with various girls. Just scrolling through them brought back all the feelings I had for him. He was The One. I was sure of it.
The only part of his page that I didn’t like was reading about the rehearsals for the school play. However, I told myself, if he’d have fallen in love with the new Juliet, he wouldn’t be thinking about hooking up with a girl in Bath, would he? That thought made me feel better and after twenty minutes, I tore myself away and began looking on the net for bands on the Songs for Sarah playlist, but some of my earlier enthusiasm had gone. I felt confused. I wanted to find the mystery boy because his music had given me comfort, especially in my earliest days in Bath, and the tracks had made me feel that I wasn’t so alone and I was intrigued by it all. But now I knew that Alex Taylor was coming to Bath and maybe Allegra too, did it really matter about meeting the boy who made the CD any more? I decided to have a look online anyway and started by typing in the first band on the list. Sainted.
A few links came up but, from what I could make out, they were out of date – and then there was a post saying that the band had split up about three months ago. Next I typed in Black Pearl. There were loads of links for them so I pressed on the first. It said that they were playing at the market on Walcot Street in Bath. I checked the date to see if the post was an old one too but no, they were playing this Saturday. I knew I had homework to do but I was hooked. I had to see if I could learn anything from any of the other bands.
For the next half-hour, I went through the list and discovered that most of the bands had Facebook pages. All of them posted where they were playing next. I also realised that, apart from Sainted, the bands were current – which meant that the CD was probably not made too long ago.
When Tasmin appeared, I was buzzing with energy. I found the page on my computer about Black Pearl’s gig on Friday and filled her in on what I’d discovered so far.
‘We have to go,’ she said as she read the page. ‘Looks like it might be some kind of music festival. They often have them there.’
&n
bsp; ‘Cool. And we already know that Mystery Boy likes the band, which is why he chose one of their tracks. Wow, Tasmin, he might be there at the gig.’
‘He might. But how are we supposed to recognise him?’ she asked.
I wasn’t going to be put off. I tapped the side of my nose. ‘Follow the clues.’
Tasmin laughed. ‘You haven’t changed at all,’ she said. ‘I remember when we were little you used to love mystery games. Remember that Easter when Mum did an Easter egg hunt in the garden? We were about seven. You loved it and found the most. I was so jealous but you shared them with me.’
I vaguely remembered Tasmin with her face covered with chocolate. She was right, I did used to like playing hide and seek or any game that involved having to find something or someone.
‘So do you think this mystery boy might be the love of your life then?’ asked Tasmin as she lay back on her bed.
I thought about Alex and shook my head as I made a note of the time for Black Pearl’s performance on Saturday. ‘No. I’d like to know who he is but I want to find out more about the story. Who was Sarah and what happened? She might have chucked the CD out after dumping him. From the music, it sounds like the boy was searching for himself as much as for her. He sounds very romantic. He might have been too much for her but his expectations were too high. Who knows? It’s intriguing, isn’t it?’
I glanced over at Tasmin. She was fast asleep.
Chapter Thirteen
Mystery Boy
‘The course of true love never did run smooth.’
Shakespeare: A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Playlist for a Broken Heart Page 7
