‘What?’
‘You’re in too.’
‘Me? I can’t play anything, or sing.’
Biro comes over and drags me to my feet and puts his arm around my shoulders.
‘Dudes, meet your band manager.’
Chapter 5
Josie
I got a text yesterday from Adam. For a minute I didn’t have a clue who it was texting me. I don’t have any boys’ phone numbers on my phone. In fact, I don’t have many numbers on my phone at all and the only texts I get are from Biro and they’re usually only a few words, like cu at 12 or coming 2 mine ? And I didn’t even give Adam my number so he must have got it from my college file. Anyway, I saw this text from an unknown number and I opened it and there’s this great long message saying that he hoped I wanted to continue the counselling and he thinks that it would be beneficial if I have two sessions a week. Tuesdays and Fridays.
Initially, it was a no from me and I was annoyed because I felt I was being pressured by him and I didn’t like it that he’d texted me. But then I thought about it for a while and decided that maybe I was overreacting. And then I thought well if I have double the sessions it’ll be over that much quicker won’t it? It’ll take half the time. I also need to keep positive and try to be more, oh I don’t know, just more. So I texted back ok . I then spent the next hour agonising that I should have said more in the message and that just one word was a bit rude and pathetic.
Got myself in a right state about it and was just about to spiral down into a complete case of self-loathing when Adam texted again with great and a smiley face and that made me feel better.
See, the state I got in over that shows that I definitely need counselling. This is also why I don’t do any social media. I’d waste so much time worrying about it I’d never be able to leave the house.
I didn’t have to be dragged out of a tutorial this time, I was all grown up and left five minutes before my appointment so I’d get there just right; not so early that I’d look desperate and not late so that I look immature and childish and as if I’m trying to make a point. But as it turned out was there late because it took me forever to find the counselling room. I got lost a couple of times because I followed Adam here last time so I didn’t take any notice of where I was going. I was just about to give up and go to the student office to ask someone for directions when I turned a corner and there it was.
We sit in the same places as last time and his legs are just as long and his knees are still nearly touching mine but I am trying not to flinch away and get all precious about personal space. I stopped myself from putting my hood up to hide in so am feeling pretty pleased with myself although I do still have my Parka on. One step at a time.
He gave me a lovely smile and looked pleased to see me when I arrived (although obviously he does that to everyone) but he’s very good at his job and he did make me feel welcome. I apologised for being late and told him how I got lost and nearly had to go to the student office but he didn’t say anything so I thought that maybe I was gabbling too much so I shut up. Then it went all quiet. The silence was just starting to feel uncomfortable when he started talking.
‘How have you been since we last talked, Josie?’
‘Okay.’
‘Have you had any thoughts on what you’d like to talk about?’
I shrug. I have no idea what to say. I’m hoping he’ll just ask questions and I can answer them and that’ll be that.
He rubs his jaw with his hands and looks thoughtful.
‘Okay. Perhaps it’ll help if I tell you a bit about myself.’
Good, better him talking than me. And it’ll take up a good bit of the session time.
‘I was born and brought up in Frogham, actually attended this college! And I didn’t start off wanting to be a counsellor at all I just wanted to make lots of money. So I worked in marketing for a while and I was pretty good at it and I started to make decent money. But then I realised that something was missing, that what I was doing didn’t mean anything to me, that I wanted something more, something more than just making money. I wanted to do something that mattered .’
I stifle a yawn. So far, so predictable.
‘Because I’d had counselling myself, you know. It was a long time ago but I found that it definitely helped.
I look at him in surprise; what could he possibly need counselling for?
‘Does that surprise you?’ Adam laughs. ‘Appearances can be deceptive, people, especially men, are very good are hiding their feelings. Everyone has their own problems and issues and everyone needs help sometimes.’
‘Why did you have counselling?’ Is it rude to ask? Probably, but if he didn’t want to talk about it, he surely wouldn’t have told me.
‘My mother had died. Suddenly. And I wasn’t coping very well.’
‘Oh.’
‘So I do have some idea of what you’re going through, Josie. I was the same age as you although,’ he pauses, ‘You’re much more mature than I was.’
I look at him, I don’t know what to say. At last, someone who understands how I feel.
Mature, he called me mature.
‘Although, like you,’ he goes on, ‘I didn’t see how it could possibly help, just talking to someone, but it did. Although it took quite a while.’
We sit in silence for a few moments and I try to imagine Adam at seventeen. I bet he’d have been just as good looking, one of the popular ones. I wouldn’t have merited a second glance from him. He clears his throat and for a minute I have the feeling that he knows exactly what I’m thinking and I feel a blush creep up my face.
‘So. Now that you know a bit about me, how about we start over?’ He smiles and his eyes crinkle up at the corners and look all twinkly. ‘So, talk to me.’
He looks so approachable and the thought crosses my mind: maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
✽✽✽
‘What time?’
‘You’ll be third on, second from last.’
‘Wow, that’s like, amazing, how did you even manage that? It’s impossible to get a gig there, people are queuing up to get in.’ Biro looks at me in total awe and I bask in the warmth of the compliment.
It is pretty amazing; Tourists of Reality are booked to play at the Old Vic’s weekly band night in a couple of weeks’ time. It was worrying me, this band manager thing. I don’t like to take anything on – although, technically, I was forced into it - and not do it properly but I couldn’t see what I could do, I know nothing about bands, promotion, anything. Biro couldn’t have picked a worse person to be band manager.
I could have just said I wouldn’t do it, and if it had been last week, I would have done that even though I know Biro would have been disappointed and hurt. But I thought, no, it’s a new me now so get on with it. But it’s all very well thinking positively but I hadn’t a clue what to do. So there I was, looking miserable, and Dad asked me what was wrong so instead of bottling it up and moping I told him.
‘Manager?’ he’d said in disbelief and I nearly burst into tears. I knew I was going to let everyone down.
Typical Dad, he started coming up with ideas, trying to put everything right like he always does, bless him. He suggested playing at the George but I knew Biro wouldn’t do it because I’d already asked him, he doesn’t want his Dad letting him play there as a favour.
‘Nepotism.’ he’d said when I suggested it, but I think it’s more because the George is definitely not cool. And he didn’t want his Dad joining in and taking over.
Anyway, turns out that Dad knows the landlord of the Old Vic, they played football for the same team back in the day and they still keep in touch. Before I knew it, Dad was on the phone to him and after a bit of banter and reminiscing from Dad, Tourists of Reality were booked to play there two weeks on Friday.
‘You done good, Josie, I don’t know how but you done good.’ Biro is shaking his head in disbelief.
I sit back and bask a bit more.
Not lying,
am I? Just not saying anything. He doesn’t need to know that I’ve never actually been in the Old Vic or even know where it is. I’d never even heard of the Old Vic before Dad told me about it. Had no idea they did a band night or that it was the place to play, not that Tourists of Reality will be paid or anything but apparently bands would kill for an unpaid Friday night spot there. Dad says he’ll take me in there before band night so I don’t look a complete idiot on the night.
I thought it was weird it being in a pub because we’re not even old enough to drink but Dad says it’s fine, band night has been going for years and the landlord can spot an underage drinker a mile off. Dad says he’s really strict because he doesn’t want to lose his licence and if we try to buy alcohol we’ll be out on our ear.
‘We’d better start practising, decide what we’re going to play in our set. Have to get the guys together.’
‘Who’s playing what?’ says a whiny voice.
I look up; We’re at a tucked away table at the back of the canteen but the Clackers have found us. Shana can sniff out the merest hint of gossip from a mile away.
She slides into the chair next to Biro and a blast of her sweet fruity bubble gum drifts across the table. Stacey sits down next to me but doesn’t acknowledge me as she’s too busy watching Shana. Ellie hovers at the end of the table holding her lunch tray, unsure what to do as there aren’t any more chairs. Shana and Stacey ignore her. Ellie looks at both of them then bangs the tray down onto the table and walks off.
‘Nothing you’d be interested in,’ Biro says loftily.
‘Is that right, Josie?’ Shana looks straight at me, gum clacking. Does she eat with that in her mouth? Course not, she never eats, just buys a salad and pushes it around the plate. Probably hasn’t eaten a meal since year eleven.
I shrug, unsure what to say.
‘You’ve got me interested now, being so mysterious.’ Clack, clack. The smell of strawberry bubble gum drifts over every time she speaks.
‘Me too,’ whines Stacey. Clack clack.
Ellie comes back dragging a chair and squashes it onto the end of the table between Shana and Stacey and sits down.
‘Hey, fattie, leave me a bit of space,’ Shana squeals, moving her tray an inch away from Ellie with exaggerated arm movements.
Stacey giggles. ‘Fattie! You’re like, so funny Shana.’
Ellie’s face flushes and her lips tighten, she’s not fat at all but she’s always been self-conscious about her legs. She puts her head down and stares intently at her food.
‘Only joking, babes.’ Shana puts one manicured finger on Ellie’s hand. ‘I’m not fat shaming you, I don’t think you’re fat no matter what anyone else says.’
Ellie stares fixedly down at her food and her face goes even redder.
‘So, Stefan.’ Shana turns and directs the full force of her eye fluttering attention at Biro. She doesn’t fancy him in the slightest but she can’t help herself. ‘What are you practising and where are you playing?’
Biro takes a slurp of his drink, gazes straight at me and ignores her.
‘Biro’s band is playing at the Vic,’ I blurt out. She won’t give up until she knows, so we might as well get it over with.
‘What? Didn’t know you even had a band, you kept that a big secret. Aren’t the Vic a bit fussy over who they let play?’
Biro drains the rest of his drink loudly through the straw and bangs it down on the table.
‘Yeah, they are fussy, that’s why we’re playing. Two weeks on Friday if you want to come and see us. Tourists of Reality,’ he says loudly unable to stop himself bragging.
‘Ooh,’ squeals Shana. ‘How exciting, might just do that. Are you in the band, Josie?’
Stacey bursts out laughing and Shana joins in. I sneak a look at Ellie, she’s still concentrating on her food although I notice she hasn’t eaten anything.
‘No, she’s not in the band,’ says Biro loudly. ‘She’s the manager.’
I copy Ellie and stare at my food.
Great. Now the whole world will know.
✽✽✽
I lie in bed and think through the events of the day. Skipper is snuggled up next to me snoring gently. He was waiting as usual when I got home; standing in the lounge doorway staring at the front door. I knelt down and ruffled his ears and talked to him and I thought he was going to go into orbit his stumpy little tail wagged so hard.
He’s pretty much followed me around the house since then so I let him into my room while I got ready for bed and he’s still here. There’s something comforting about his warm, furry little body and I don’t mind if he sleeps on my bed. I quite like it really.
Thinking back, it’s been a good day; Biro thinks I’m pretty cool for getting him a gig at the Vic - even if it was Dad that did it really. On the downside I’m feeling nervous about what Tourists of Reality are going to be like seeing as they’ve never even played a gig together. Visions of Danny plonking along on the keyboard and Biro’s awful voice make me break out in a cold sweat, especially with the Clackers coming to watch. They were nearly hysterical with laughter at the thought of me being the band manager. Shana asked Biro if they would rather have had someone who, like, talks to people. Nice. So they’re going to be completely brutal about Tourists of Reality if they think they’re crap and I’ll be for it as well.
I can hear the sniggering and laughing at college already and they haven’t even played yet. I’m just praying that Danny’s good looks and Mogs’s amazing guitar playing will counteract the bad bits. If only the Clackers weren’t coming; I know they’ll make it their mission to be there because as well as gossip Shana can smell a disaster a mile away. So barring illness or death, they’ll be watching. Maybe I could poison her. Make her eat a doughnut, that’d probably do it.
Nothing I can do about it really though is there? So grow a pair, as Biro says. It’s not like I have to get up and perform and Biro and the others don’t seem bothered at all. Just shows that I’m not normal – no one else worries about what people think about them like I do. Man up. Or woman up. Girl up even.
✽✽✽
I think the counselling with Adam is helping, I can definitely feel that even after two sessions. He’s been through it, losing his mum, so he knows how I feel and I feel quite special that he felt able to share that with me. When he talked about his mum his face looked all sad and vulnerable and his voice went a bit funny. We talked about his mum quite a lot; she died suddenly of a heart attack from an undiagnosed heart condition and to make things worse Adam had to be tested for the same defect. Turns out he’s fine but that must have been awful on top of her dying. He actually talked about it to me and it made me feel better because I felt I helped him in a strange sort of way, even though he’s counselling me. But it doesn’t feel like counselling, feels more like talking to a friend.
Poor Adam, at least I have Dad, Adam said that his dad was more interested in finding himself a new wife than worrying about him, said his dad pretty much abandoned him.
I did tell him a little bit about Mum, about how we used to do things together and how she always totally understood me like no one else does, not even Dad, bless him. And I am angry with her for dying, which is really stupid, I know. It’s not as if she had a choice but I do feel sort of abandoned too.
Adam. He’s so nice and he really listened, properly listened.
Of course, I couldn’t be totally honest with him because that would be betraying Mum and I can’t do that. Even though Adam can’t tell anyone what we talk about because it’s all totally confidential I can’t take the risk of Dad ever finding out because that would ruin everything, forever. He’d never think the same about Mum again and I can’t have that, I can’t have Mum’s memory ruined for a stupid mistake which I know if she was still alive, she’d have put right. I know she would.
I can live with it and not tell anyone and eventually it’ll be like it never happened.
But I just wish I hadn’t found out.
; I wish I didn’t know that Mum was having an affair.
Chapter 6
Robbie
I know she’s only been to a few sessions but I can definitely see a difference in Josie since she started the counselling. The very fact that she’s going at all is a massive step forward. I honestly thought she’d point blank refuse to go. I’m keep everything crossed at the moment that she keeps going because she seems so much more positive and willing to try things and that’s got to help her to get over losing her mum.
I think the job at the newspaper is helping too. I’ve had a word on the quiet with Ralph and he says she’s settling in really well even though she’s only been there for a couple of Saturdays. Apparently, she gets on really well with Louise even though there’s a big age difference and Ralph says she’s coming out of herself a bit. Maybe it’s because Louise is about the same age as Nessa, sort of a mother figure. Although to be honest it hurts to even think like that; feels as if I’m being disloyal to my Nessa.
I only rang Ralph for a quick chat but I had a job to get him off the phone because he started prattling on about some dog that was howling and how they were taking advantage of him and I thought, here we go, another Ralph rant, so I said there was someone at the door and I put the phone down. Don’t think he was very happy. I know he’s my brother and everything but sometimes I’ve got a job to shut him up. He’s like a dog with a bone, on and on and on. Mind you, I don’t know what I’d have done without him this last year; he’s been a diamond, an absolute diamond.
It was an even bigger shock when Josie came home and told me that Biro had made her the manager of his band. Didn’t even know he had a band – it’s called Tourists are Salty or something like that, some contrived arty-farty name. I was absolutely gobsmacked – Josie, a manager? She’s near genius clever and can do pretty much anything but manage a band? I don’t know what Biro was thinking and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and I’d certainly never say it, but our Josie’s not manager material; too shy and reserved, not the pushy type at all.
So Talk to Me Page 5
