My Heart Goes Bang

by Keris Stainton

  ‘I will,’ Lou said. ‘When I get back.’

  ‘I mean it, Lou. If you don’t, I’ll ring them.’

  ‘I will,’ Lou said again. But she hoped he’d stop before she had to.

  ‘Have you ever kissed a girl?’ Issey asked Mel, as they lay on side-by-side mattresses on their parents’ bedroom floor.

  ‘All right, Katy Perry!’ Mel said, rolling onto her side to look at Issey. ‘No. Have you?’

  ‘One of my friends kissed me,’ she said, her voice tiny.

  ‘Wow,’ Mel said. ‘And?’

  ‘Who kissed you?’ Aysa asked, dropping over the edge of the bed, her long hair swinging into Issey’s face.

  ‘No one you know,’ Issey said. She was already regretting bringing it up, but it was all she could think about and not talking about it had made her feel like she was inflating with it. Like the berry girl in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

  ‘She was drunk,’ Issey said. ‘I don’t think it meant anything.’

  ‘Do you want it to mean something?’ their eldest sister, Eve, called from the other side of the bed. Issey had thought she was asleep.

  ‘No,’ Issey said. ‘I don’t know. Maybe.’

  ‘Well, that sounds conclusive,’ Eve said.

  ‘Did you talk about it? After?’ Mel asked, sitting up slightly to turn her pillow over and then dropping down again.

  ‘I didn’t see her. When I woke up in the morning she’d already left.’

  ‘You slept with her?’ Aysa screeched, which was when Issey realised her mistake.

  ‘No, idiot,’ Mel said. ‘It’s one of her housemates.’ She looked at Issey gently. ‘Liane, yeah?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Issey said.

  ‘You need to talk to her.’

  ‘Talk to her,’ Eve said. ‘I’m going to sleep.’

  ‘Wow,’ Aysa said, clambering back up into bed. ‘I never thought you’d be lesbionic.’

  ‘Shut up, Aysa,’ the other three all said together.

  Chapter 24

  Ella had just got into bed when there was a quiet knock on her door and Dylan popped his head round.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  ‘Course you can, dickhead.’

  He grinned and pushed the door open properly. He was wearing sweatpants, a blue hoodie that said ‘Sorry I was late. I didn’t want to come’ on the front, and he had his pillow under his arm.

  ‘You staying then?’ Ella had already started shuffling over in the double bed she’d begged her mum and Arthur for for about five years before they actually caved and bought it.

  ‘Is that OK?’

  ‘I refer you to my previous answer.’

  Dylan flopped down on the bed next to her and Ella marvelled at just how tall he was now. In her head, he was at least a foot shorter. And looked about five years younger. He was a man now, there was no way around that, and it was weird. Although not as weird as him being an internationally famous pop star. That was definitely the absolute weirdest.

  ‘Get your massive feet away from me,’ she said, as he pedalled them under the duvet.

  He sighed, tipping his head back.

  ‘Didn’t want to sleep in the shrine, then?’ she said.

  Dylan laughed. ‘Don’t call it that. But yeah. No.’

  ‘I did tell her she should turn it into a gym. Or a craft room.’

  ‘It’s weird, right? How she’s left it. I mean … I’m not dead.’

  He shuffled in the bed, so he was on his side, looking at Ella.

  ‘I don’t think it’s that weird,’ she said. ‘You left so suddenly. And we were all just waiting for it to end, you know? We thought the arse would fall out of it and you’d come crawling home and you’d be devastated and we’d have to help you get over it. But you just kept getting more and more famous. You wanker.’

  Dylan didn’t laugh, as Ella had expected. Instead his eyes filled with tears. ‘I want to come home.’

  ‘Fuck off,’ Ella said. ‘You don’t.’

  ‘I do. I just … I love it. I do. I love the boys and the shows and the fans, but we just never fucking stop. I never get to take a breath, you know? They keep telling us after this show or this album or this promo we’ll get a break, a proper break, and then once it’s close enough that I start thinking about what I’ll do, something comes up and they say “no, sorry, just this one thing”. I’m so fucking tired.’

  ‘Fuck,’ Ella said. ‘I’m sorry. I know it’s shit.’

  Dylan’s eyebrows pulled together. ‘It’s not. I mean, I feel like a dickhead for complaining about it. Cos, like, this was my dream, right? I wanted this! And so many singers would kill to be in my place. I should appreciate it. I should enjoy it. But I was, like, counting the days ’til I could be home. Who does that?’

  ‘That’s fair enough, I think,’ Ella said. ‘I mean, the touring and everything is normal to you now. It’s home that’s special. I know it’s not the same, but I’ve been looking forward to it too. Even though I was kind of desperate to move out, desperate to get to uni and have some independence. And now I’m there – and I love it – I really look forward to coming home.’ Ella wanted to tell him about Nick, but she knew he wasn’t really able to have a relationship at the moment either, and she didn’t want to rub salt in the wound. It could wait.

  Dylan nodded. ‘It’s not the same for you though. Cos everyone still treats you the same. For me it’s like it takes a couple of days for them to realise I’m still Dylan, not, like, Dylan Jewell.’

  ‘Yeah, I know. But – and I know this isn’t the same, I’m not saying it’s the same – but for me … it’s kind of nice to be Ella. Not Dylan Jewell’s sister, you know? And when I come home, I go back to that again.’

  ‘God,’ Dylan said. ‘I’m sorry. I do wonder sometimes if it wouldn’t have been better if I’d never gone to London. If –’

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Ella said, her voice suddenly too loud in the quiet house. ‘Don’t talk shit. I mean, first of all, it was your dream. You are literally living your dream. Even if it’s not quite what you expected it to be, that’s an incredible thing. And second of all, you’re making shitloads of money. Enough that at some point if you decide you don’t want to do it any more, you’ll have options. And you can help Mum out. And you paid for Arthur’s hospital stuff. It’s a good thing.’

  ‘It is, mostly. I know. And I was really happy that I could help out with the doctor like that. But don’t you think it’s weird? That I’m their kid and I’m the one paying for stuff like that? I mean …’ He rubbed his hands over his face. ‘It’s changed us all, the family, so much. And it just feels, I dunno. Weird.’

  ‘I know,’ Ella said. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘You know what I noticed? Arthur doesn’t take the piss out of me any more. He used to always go on about my hair or my clothes or the music I was listening to or whatever. But now … it’s like he’s sort of respectful.’

  ‘I did notice all the questions,’ Ella said. ‘It was like a one-man press conference.’

  ‘Yeah. And then Mum treats me like a VIP. She came into the kitchen when I was emptying the bin and she almost vaulted the breakfast bar to stop me. Like “you shouldn’t be doing that!”’

  ‘To be fair, you literally never emptied the bin when you lived here.’ Ella grinned.

  ‘Arthur used to do it,’ Dylan said. ‘I’m thinking he probably doesn’t any more.’

  ‘Oh,’ Ella said. ‘You’re right. This is why I hate you. I never would have thought of that. Why do you always have to be so considerate and shit?’

  Dylan smiled, but it didn’t quite make his eyes. ‘He’s dying, isn’t he?’

  Ella gasped, her eyes filling instantly. ‘I think so, yeah.’

  ‘Do you think Mum knows or …’

  ‘I honestly don’t know. I did try to talk to her a bit. Like, it’s stage four and, you know, you only have to look at him. But she went all bright-eyed and started talking about booking a holiday to Madeira. I don’t kno
w.’

  ‘Fuck,’ Dylan said.

  Paige planned to run a bath as hot as she could stand and lie in it for as long as possible, reading one of Lou’s fashion magazines, and then get into bed and sleep for most of Christmas Day. She’d hated Christmas since her mum had died anyway, but she’d never been able to totally avoid it before. And now her legs were aching and there was something clicking between her shoulder blades. And her key wouldn’t turn in the front door.

  ‘For fuck’s sake,’ she muttered, banging her head gently against the wood. The key was sticky, she knew that. And she knew that if she relaxed, and pulled the key out very slightly, it should turn. She took a breath, she eased the key out, she turned it … and it snapped.

  ‘MotherFUCKER,’ Paige yelled. She stared at what was left of the key in her hand. She couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Now what? It was late. She was alone. She had nowhere to go and no money and – her chest started to feel tight – no inhaler. Shit.

  She sat down on the step and told herself to stay calm. She took a few of the slow, deep, calming breaths she’d learned at yoga once and then stared down at her phone. Who could she call? Her dad would be drunk, she knew from long experience. Plus, what could he do? He wouldn’t know how to transfer money or book her a hotel or anything, even if he was capable.

  It would have to be Sharda. At least she lived nearby and was relatively flush. Paige had no idea what a locksmith would cost, particularly at this time of night, but whatever it was, she didn’t have it. It would probably be better if she stayed the night with Sharda and called the locksmith in the morning. She tapped Sharda’s name on her phone, and listened to it ring out. And then it stopped.

  ‘Fuck,’ Paige muttered. She had no idea what she was going to do.

  Her phone buzzed with a message. Sharda. ‘Can’t talk. Lola’s home.’

  Paige’s fingers were stiff with cold as she typed her reply, telling Sharda she was locked out, had no money. Asking her if she could come and crash.

  ‘Sorry, no,’ Sharda replied. ‘I can lend you some cash? PayPal? How much do you need?’

  ‘Fucking HELL,’ Paige said, dropping her head back to bang against the door. Her eyes burned with tears. Maybe she should ask Sharda for the train fare, go and spend the night in Lime Street and get the first train home. Yeah, it meant Christmas with her drunk dad, but even that was better than this, wasn’t it?

  She told Sharda she’d find out and get straight back to her. And then she Googled locksmiths.

  By the time Paige got into the house, she was cold and tired and sick from trying not to cry. She climbed into the shower, dropping her clothes on the bathroom floor, and slumped against the wall, sobbing so loudly she almost shocked herself. How had this happened? It was Christmas. She was home alone (she almost – almost – laughed at that), and she had no one.

  Leaving her clothes on the floor, she wrapped herself in a towel and sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone. She should ring her dad. He was awful, but he was still her dad. Maybe she should go home. She should talk to him, at the very least. Her chest felt tight at the thought and she rubbed it with the heel of her hand.

  She scrolled to her dad’s number, but she was already struggling to breathe.

  ‘Fuck.’ Her eyes filled with tears and she rubbed at her chest again. She could feel herself wheezing. She reached into her bag for her inhaler, but it wasn’t there. It wasn’t in the pocket of her coat either. She tried to remember where she’d last had it, but couldn’t think.

  In her room, she checked her bedside drawer and it wasn’t there either. Her breathing was coming faster now, the tears streaming down her face. Trust this to happen when she was home alone. Wasn’t that just fucking typical.

  And then she remembered using her inhaler the previous night and putting it on her bedside table. It must have fallen off. She got down on the floor and reached under the bed. Her fingers closed around the smooth plastic.

  Once she was able to breathe again, she rang her dad – first his mobile and then the home phone. He didn’t answer either of them.

  JANUARY

  Chapter 25

  If Paige gave the girls any more free drinks, Jonny was going to start docking her pay. But she was just so happy to have them back. From the moment they’d started messaging to say they were on their way home after Christmas, Paige had felt almost giddy. It was sickening. She’d actually had a moment of wondering if she had a crush on one of them – Liane, maybe? Or Lou? – but she didn’t think that was it. It was all of them. And it was a friend-crush. She hadn’t experienced anything quite like it for years. It was disconcerting. She’d faffed around the house so much that she’d given up and come into work, even though she wasn’t strictly needed – Jonny was there and so was Raimy, the other barmaid – but it was surprisingly busy and Jonny had been pleased to see her. But not nearly as pleased as Paige had been to see the girls.

  She’d told them she was at work, and was surprised that they’d just dropped their stuff off and come straight over. Liane first, then Lou, Issey, and finally Ella. Paige was glad she was trapped behind the bar or she’d have been hugging them all. And she’d never really thought of herself as much of a hugger before.

  But Christmas had been so … She’d expected it to be lonely. And sad. But she hadn’t expected it to be quite so soul-destroying. First Sharda making it perfectly clear that Paige was basically a booty call and nothing more. And then her dad – when she finally spoke to him on Christmas Day he’d been drunk and unpleasant. It had all just been utterly grim. She never wanted to experience anything like it ever again.

  ‘My sisters drove me fucking nuts,’ Issey said. ‘But I made them all watch the Bang! documentary, so that was something.’

  ‘There’s a documentary?’ Liane asked, one eyebrow arching.

  ‘Yeah, it was a bonus thing with their last album,’ Issey said. ‘It’s only short. But it’s hilarious. And cute. Ugh, I love them. Arseholes. We’ll have to watch it one night! There’s a drinking game that goes with it, I saw it on Tumblr.’

  ‘No fucking drinking games,’ Lou said. ‘I got so pissed on Boxing Day. I ended up talking about porn with my uncles and my dad’s mates from work. I can never look any of them in the eye again, dirty bastards. And then we tried to get a cab and we couldn’t, so we started walking, but it was freezing and no cabs came and … You know when you have one of those dreams when you’re trying to get somewhere and you just can’t? It keeps getting further away or your legs aren’t moving or whatever? It was like that. I felt like it took years to get home. And I couldn’t feel my feet. And when I woke up in the morning I had to make myself sick before I could even get out of bed. Grim.’

  ‘How was your Christmas, Ella?’ Liane asked Ella, who had been staring down at her phone all the way through Lou’s story.

  ‘Oh, Nick!’ Lou said, in an exaggerated high voice. ‘I can’t wait to see you! I just need to get away from my lovely friends who I haven’t seen for aaaaaages and then we can be alone at last!’

  ‘Shut up,’ Ella said, putting her phone face-down on the table. ‘He was just saying he’s not back ’til tomorrow. I’m meeting him for brunch.’

  ‘So that’s it for you, then?’ Liane said. ‘You’re ticking “bookseller” off the list and retiring from competition?’

  Ella shook her fringe out of her eyes. ‘I think … yeah. Probably. I hope so, anyway.’

  ‘So much for focussing on your studies,’ Lou said. ‘What happened to “all work, all the time” and “boys are a distraction”?’

  ‘I know,’ Ella said, picking up her Corona. ‘I just didn’t expect …’

  ‘To fall in love?’ Lou finished. ‘Are you in love with him? Seriously?’

  ‘No!’ Ella said, clinging to her beer. ‘It’s too soon. I just … I feel like I could be. Maybe.’

  ‘Fuck me,’ Issey said. ‘That’s amazing. Tell him we’re all coming to brunch. We can grill him and ask him
about his intentions.’

  ‘That,’ Ella said, ‘is the absolute last thing I’m going to do.’

  ‘We’re going out tonight though, right?’ Lou said. ‘All of us?’ She leaned up over the bar to get Paige’s attention.

  ‘If it’s free entry, I can come,’ Paige said.

  ‘And if it’s not, I’ll pay you in,’ Lou told her. ‘You’re in, yes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Lou said. ‘Go home. Get changed. Go out.’

  ‘I’m going to puke,’ Issey said, standing stock-still in the middle of the Seal Street.

  ‘You’re not,’ Liane said, holding on to her elbow and swaying slightly. ‘You’re fine. Come on.’

  ‘I need to lie down,’ Issey said.

  ‘Come on!’ Paige yelled. ‘I want to GO HOME.’

  Issey started to bend down towards the road.

  ‘Oh no,’ Lou said. ‘Iz. You can’t sleep here. It’s an actual road. You’ll get run over! Or sweet-streeped!’

  ‘Sweet-streeped?’ Ella said, already laughing almost uncontrollably. ‘Have I got my coat?’

  ‘You’re wearing it!’ Paige yelled. ‘COME ON.’

  A group of lads piled out of Wetherspoons, yelling and singing and staggering into the road. Issey was still standing at a half crouch and one of the boys hooked his arm around her, underneath her arms, and picked her up.

  ‘Fucking put her down!’ Liane said.

  ‘He can carry me home,’ Issey said, eyes closed. ‘Can you carry me home?’

  ‘Is it far?’ he asked. He’d swung his other arm up under her legs now and Issey rested her face against his shoulder.

  ‘Just round the corner,’ she murmured.

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ Paige said. She’d walked back down to meet the rest of them. ‘Why aren’t we home yet? I’m dying for a piss.’

  ‘All right, chubs,’ one of the other boys said.

  Paige rolled her eyes. ‘Good one.’

  ‘You shut the fuck up,’ Ella told him.

  They turned off Bold Street and onto Seal Street.