Forever Phoenix

by Cathy Cassidy

  ‘We did,’ Marley says smoothly. ‘Funny really … the Lost & Found was never meant to be a band at all, it just kind of happened by accident because I’d misunderstood the poster, but it was clearly meant to be!’

  ‘Absolutely!’ Lola agrees. ‘Lexie, tell us about the band’s name.’

  Lexie grins. ‘You could say that we were all a bit lost before the band got going, and that we found each other,’ she says, and the rest of us nod our agreement. ‘There’s a lot of talent in the band, but also a lot of love and friendship. We look out for each other, we support each other, and we try to help others if we can, too –’

  ‘For example, Sami, a young Syrian refugee who made the terrifying journey from Syria to the UK before joining the band!’ Lola Rockett cuts in. ‘Is there anything you want to tell us about that, Sami?’

  Sami blanches visibly, shaking his head, and Lola tells the camera that he’s feeling a little emotional and moves right along. ‘Helping others is also how the band met Miss Walker from Millford Library, isn’t that right?’ she says. ‘The Lost & Found used to practise there, didn’t they?’

  ‘Yes, until the council announced they were closing it!’ Miss Walker responds. ‘The Lost & Found decided to put on a festival to save the libraries, and guess what? The council changed their minds!’

  Lola Rockett is nodding. ‘And of course that’s how the band met the legendary Ked Wilder. Ked – you headlined the festival. When did you realize that the Lost & Found were hot property?’

  Ked tilts his black fedora hat back and leans in to the camera, smiling. ‘It was pretty much straight away,’ he explains. ‘I’ve been in the music business a long time, and I know raw talent when I see it. Talent alone isn’t always enough, but, as you can all see, the Lost & Found have something more … that perfect mix of charm, style, determination and passion. They came down to my recording studios in Devon in the October half-term, and I can promise you that they have a very bright future ahead of them!’

  Lola explains to the camera that the band have recently had a change of line-up, and the camera zooms in on me as I’m asked to stand up and give a little twirl to show my wings.

  ‘Phoenix, watching you wow our studio audience tonight, it’s hard to believe you only joined the band not long ago,’ Lola says. ‘The songs you’re performing tonight are both songs you’ve written – have you always wanted to be a singer-songwriter?’

  ‘I think it’s in my blood,’ I reply, trying hard not to look at Ked. ‘I’ve always loved singing, and I’ve been writing lyrics for as long as I can remember. I’m not the only songwriter in the band, though – Lexie is brilliant, and neither of us could do what we do without Marley’s help. The Lost & Found is a real team!’

  ‘Tell us about the magpie!’ Lola exclaims. ‘Not every band has such unpredictable backing vocals!’

  I reach up to stroke Pie, smiling. ‘I rescued Pie when he was tiny. Someone had shot his mother with an air rifle, and he wasn’t big enough to look after himself, so I put him in a box and fed him cat food. He got tame really quickly, and when I joined the band he started coming to practices. He’s quite musical, I think!’

  ‘What’s fascinating about the Lost & Found is that all of you attend the same small secondary school in Millford … I’d like to ask your head teacher what he thinks of it all! Mr Simpson, what is it about Millford Park Academy that has made it the perfect place for all this talent to grow?’

  Mr Simpson beams. ‘We’re a very nurturing school, of course,’ he boasts. ‘It’s no accident that these teenagers have discovered and developed their skills under our expert guidance … we’ve helped and supported them every step of the way. I’ll definitely be buying their first record!’

  He smirks at the camera while I battle hard not stick my fingers down my throat. I mean, seriously … hypocrite, much?

  Our minders appear just out of shot, a warning that we’ll be back on stage any minute.

  ‘That brings me to my final question,’ Lola is saying. ‘The Lost & Found are a new band, not yet signed to a record label and with no CDs released as yet. Are there any plans for that to change? Ked, do you have any news for us?’

  Ked grins. ‘It’s funny you should ask that, Lola, because I do have a little surprise for the band … I’ve been in talks with a major record label. It just so happens that Josh Okabi from Wrecked Records has been able to join us here tonight …’

  The camera swings round to focus on a hipster bloke in a three-piece suit and Peaky Blinders cap. ‘Welcome, Josh!’ Lola Rockett simpers. ‘So Wrecked Records have some news for us all?’

  ‘We do,’ Josh says. ‘I’m pleased to announce we have a record deal for the Lost & Found … and we’re very much hoping these amazing kids will sign in the New Year, with a single and a tour to follow!’

  A record deal? A single? My eyes open wide, my mind whirling, struggling to take it in. A glance at my friends shows wide-eyed joy on some faces and blank horror on others … Sami and George seem especially stunned. Lee reaches across and squeezes my hand as we run on to the stage while Lola Rockett winds up the interview. ‘The Lost & Found are definitely my top tip for stardom in the coming year … don’t forget you saw them here first! Here they are one more time, playing us right up to midnight with another original song, “Rise Again”!’

  This time, I don’t have to talk myself up – I’m already buzzing. Studio time, a CD, a record deal … my heart is racing. Lee’s trumpet solo begins and I fall into step beside him, the two of us mirroring each other’s steps, owning the stage. And then I’m singing, soaring, Pie on my shoulder as we sing towards the New Year.

  It’s all so perfectly timed … the last chord dies away and the applause begins, and Lola Rockett runs on to the stage.

  ‘This is it,’ she cries. ‘Time to say goodbye to the old year and welcome in the new! I hope you’ve learned well and I hope you’re ready for what lies ahead! C’mon, count with me … ten, nine, eight, seven, six …’

  The audience join in and we’re all counting together, and as the clock strikes midnight a net of tiny gold paper stars is released, and they float down around us like stardust.

  24

  Afterwards

  Afterwards a lot of things happen. We hug and kiss and wish each other Happy New Year and try to take in the bombshell news about our new record deal. I can’t even begin to process it. The party goes on after the cameras switch off. Mr Simpson is dancing with Mum, which makes me feel queasy, but so many people are coming up to us and saying how thrilled they are about the record deal that I focus on that instead. Marley chats for a while with Josh Okabi, his smile so wide I think his face might crack.

  And then we’re back on the road, whizzing north, checking phones jammed with New Year greetings from friends and family and messages on social media from people we’ve never even heard of. When we drove to London, the band’s Instagram page had roughly three thousand followers. By the time we’re approaching Millford again, the number is closer to twenty thousand and rising. Maths is not a subject I usually struggle with, but I cannot get my head around this.

  ‘Not bad, Posh Girl,’ Sharleen’s message says.

  Lee is asleep on my shoulder, our hands entwined and resting on Pie’s basket.

  ‘Ked asked me where I got my phoenix necklace,’ Mum says into the silence. ‘I told him Louisa gave it to me on my sixteenth birthday, and he went very quiet after that. Do you think … that perhaps he gave it to Louisa in the first place?’

  ‘Very possibly,’ I say. ‘Perhaps … could he be putting the pieces together?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Mum says with a sigh. ‘He asked me if I liked his song “Phoenix”. It’s one of his best-loved songs. You loved it as a child …’

  I still love it, of course. I’ve always loved it, the song that seemed to be about me, the song that taught me that a fiery nature was nothing to be ashamed of. It’s the first song that snagged my imagination, hooked me into the idea of
writing. I have a printout of the lyrics folded up inside the Quality Street tin.

  ‘I told him I knew it well,’ Mum continues. ‘Lou used to sing it to me when I was little, as a lullaby. I wanted to be the girl in the song … the wind in her hair, the stars in her eyes. Obviously, that wasn’t me at all, but when you were born I wanted that magic for you.’

  ‘Oh, Mum!’

  ‘It all looks a little different to me now,’ she goes on. ‘I think the song’s about Louisa – it got to number one the year after they first split. He gave her the necklace, he wrote the song for her … he knows, Phoenix. He’s guessed, I’m sure of it.’

  I sigh. ‘Well, maybe it’s about time he did.’

  ‘Maybe it is,’ Mum says, and we drive on into the night.

  Back at Greystones, Grandma Lou has fallen asleep on one of the velvet sofas, a crochet blanket tucked round her, and the next day her eyes mist up as she tells me how much she loved the TV show. Lee comes over and shows us the Twitter feed and catch-up link for the show, with comment after comment from people who loved the Lost & Found.

  The local press turn out in force, all keen to point out that they’ve supported us from the start. Marley and I do a radio interview with a cheesy local DJ called Barney Bright, and the local BBC news programme films a piece in the old railway carriage, asking us how we feel now that a record deal is all but signed and sealed.

  Mr Simpson takes Mum for a coffee at the Leaping Llama on the pretext of asking if she thinks a new musical-theatre group might be a good idea for Millford Park Academy. I almost puke at the idea of him drinking coffee with my mum (she promises it’s not an actual date) but she has to drive back to Scotland to get ready for the new term at Bellvale, so disaster is averted. For now.

  Saying goodbye is hard. Mum is brisk and no-nonsense right up to the very last minute, and then her fierce, ice-maiden mask slips and I realize that it has been an act all along, this frosty facade.

  ‘I’ve tried to be strong for you,’ she says. ‘I’ve tried my best, but all I’ve managed to do is hurt you. I’m going to do things differently from now on, Phoenix. I’m not saying I’ll get everything right – I won’t – but I want you to know I’m trying. I love you and I’m so very proud of you. I always have been and I always will be.’

  She holds me close and I cry all over her red silk scarf, and then she gets into the car and drives away, and I stand at the gates waving until she turns the corner and disappears from sight.

  Ked emails to suggest we travel down to London in the February half-term to meet Josh and the others at Wrecked Records and map out a plan for our first single and tour. ‘This is life-changing,’ he tells us. ‘It’s a done deal, but I want you all to be very clear about what’s involved. Take some time to think about it.’

  Marley calls a meeting at the old railway carriage to discuss the email. The day is frosty and the wood burner is roaring. Dylan drums out a backbeat while Lee and I make mugs of hot chocolate and wait for the others to arrive.

  ‘They’re late,’ Marley grumbles, breaking open the Jaffa Cakes. ‘Today of all days!’

  It’s another five minutes before the others arrive, all together and looking gloomy enough to make me anxious. Something’s wrong, I know it is.

  ‘Better late than never,’ Marley says sourly. ‘What kept you?’

  ‘We went to the Leaping Llama,’ George says calmly. ‘We wanted to talk about stuff.’

  ‘That’s why we’re here,’ Marley says. ‘And if you wanted to discuss band business, why didn’t you invite the rest of us?’

  ‘They invited me,’ Lee says quietly. ‘I said no.’

  ‘I didn’t get an invite!’ I say. ‘I don’t get it … what’s going on?’

  ‘Things are changing – well, they’ve been changing for a little while now,’ Lexie says, but she doesn’t look happy. ‘We wanted to talk it through …’

  ‘Without the rest of us,’ Marley snaps.

  ‘Without kicking off World War Three,’ Bex replies. ‘C’mon, Marley, we’ve got big stuff on the horizon. Some of us wanted the chance to discuss it away from band HQ, that’s all.’

  Marley scowls. ‘Great,’ he says. ‘We’ve just had the very best news ever. We have a big-label record deal … next we’ll be recording our first single and planning our first UK tour! Didn’t I tell you it would happen?’

  ‘Only about a million times,’ George says.

  ‘Yeah, well that’s called faith and determination, George, you should try it sometime,’ Marley snaps. ‘So, who wants to tell me why this sent you all scurrying off to the Leaping Llama for a secret meeting? Is this some kind of mutiny, or what? Are you going to set me adrift in an open boat and steer the band on without me?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ I say, alarmed now.

  George shrugs. ‘Look – the band’s changed, lately,’ he says. ‘The style is different since Phoenix joined. No offence, Phoenix, it’s not your fault – it’s how things are working out, that’s all. I don’t have much of a part to play now, and to be totally honest … well … I don’t think I belong in this band any more.’

  ‘You do!’ I argue. ‘Of course you do! You can’t go now … not when we’re so close to making it! If you feel you’re not a big enough part of it, then we’ll put some extra cello melodies in, right, Marley?’

  Marley is stony-faced. I think he’d rather smash George’s cello right over his head.

  ‘Phoenix, listen,’ Bex says. ‘This isn’t just about George. It’s like Marley says … the record deal changes everything. It’s going to turn our lives upside down, and not everybody wants that …’

  Marley throws his half-empty hot chocolate mug against the wall, where it smashes into pieces, leaving an explosion of brown liquid to drip down on to the floorboards. Pie squawks in alarm, and Happi, ever the peacemaker, jumps up and gets a cloth to clean it up.

  ‘Not everyone wants us to succeed?’ Marley roars. ‘Seriously? Was this no more than a game to you? All those rehearsals, all those gigs, a week working with Ked in Devon, endless press coverage, a TV show … and suddenly you don’t want it any more? Give me strength!’

  I take a deep breath. I’ve seen Marley angry before, but never like this. Lexie puts an arm round his shoulder. He doesn’t shake her off, but his fists are clenched and his jaw is tight, as if he’s battling to keep a lid on things.

  ‘That’s not what I said at all,’ Bex says gently. ‘Of course we want the band to succeed – we all want that. It’s just … well, we’re moving on to a new chapter. It’s amazing – awesome, really. And it’s been your dream for so long …’

  ‘But not yours?’ Marley counters. ‘What are you saying, Bex? You’re dropping out too?’

  Bex looks exasperated. ‘Look, Marley, I have GCSEs coming up this summer …’

  ‘So what?’ Marley scoffs. ‘I do too. Who cares?’

  ‘I care,’ Bex points out. ‘Those grades matter to me – but I’ve given it a lot of thought and talked it through with the others, and I’m staying, if you’ll have me. I don’t want to pass up this opportunity. And someone needs to be there to call you out when you go all tyrant on us …’

  Marley’s shoulders slump with relief. ‘Don’t scare me like that, Bex! I thought this was some kind of mass exodus for a minute …’

  I start to laugh, but nobody else is smiling and as I tail off into silence Lee sits down beside me, sliding an arm round my waist. Lexie’s eyes are a little too bright, as if she’s going to cry. Happi is chewing her perfectly painted fingernails, Jake is staring at his shoes, and Sami is trying to hide behind a fall of bird’s-nest hair.

  ‘Thing is, Marley, not everybody came to the same conclusion,’ Bex says.

  ‘I’m going to step down,’ Jake says into the silence. ‘I’ve loved every minute of the Lost & Found, but you don’t need me now, and Sash feels the same. We’d both love to work in the industry some day, but the record company are going to want professionals to d
o the sound and the styling now …’

  ‘Sorry,’ Sasha adds. ‘We’ll always support you, always …’

  Marley nods. ‘I get that,’ he says. ‘It makes me sad, but yeah, I get it.’

  ‘I’m out too, Marley,’ Happi says. ‘My parents are never going to agree to a UK tour and missing school. They’re pretty strict, pretty old-school, you know that, and, if I’m honest, a pop career is not what I want either. I’m sorry. Maybe if this chance had come later on …’

  Marley hangs his head. ‘But you’re brilliant, Happi!’ he says. ‘I knew it’d be a tough call getting it past your parents, but … can’t you talk to them again?’

  ‘I will leave also,’ Sami cuts in. ‘I’m sorry – you are my friends, my lifeline. But I have missed so much school the last few years … I do not want to miss more. I want to stay here, with my mum and my sister and my aunt and uncle. I will work hard and get the grades for art college. You will be fine without me.’

  ‘Sami, mate, no way,’ Marley says, and I’m not the only one who can hear the tremor in his voice. Lee holds me closer, hardly daring to breathe. Bex and Romy shift in their seats, looking guilty, because of course they must know what’s coming.

  ‘Marley, you must have known we couldn’t go on forever,’ Lexie says softly. ‘You’re so talented and so full of ambition and big dreams, and I’m glad they’re going to come true … you deserve them to, all of you deserve that …’

  ‘Lexie, don’t,’ he croaks, but she shakes her head gently and puts a finger against his lips.

  ‘I’ve loved the Lost & Found,’ Lexie tells him. ‘I really have, but it is changing … and that’s a good thing, Phoenix, before you say anything! It’s your songs Lola Rockett wanted on her show, your fierce, feisty style. You don’t need me any more. I love playing with words and imagery – it’s fun, but I’m not really a musician. I never have been and I never will be … It’s time for me to step back, Marley, OK?’

  ‘It’s not OK, no,’ Marley says. ‘It’s really, really not!’ He’s on his feet, pushing Lexie away, stumbling past the drum kit, shoving his way to the back of the old railway carriage, wiping his eyes on a sleeve. ‘Get out, will you? Please, all of you. You don’t have to be here any more, OK? Give me some space. Get out!’