Sasha's Secret

by Cathy Cassidy

  ‘Ked sent over a couple of film clips of the Lost & Found in action,’ Ria tells us. ‘We have some ideas already, but we want to be sure we’re on the right track. Fitz wants to take some quick portraits so we can plan colours.’

  ‘All very painless,’ Fitz promises. ‘Pretend I’m not here.’ He holds up his camera, snaps a picture of Marley and winks.

  ‘I thought I was the photographer,’ Matt mutters. ‘Shouldn’t I be doing the portraits?’

  Ked frowns. ‘You’re doing a formal band shoot after the styling next week,’ he tells Matt. ‘I think we’ll let the professionals do what they need to do, OK?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Matt says, backtracking rapidly. ‘I didn’t mean to be pushy – I’m just keen to be useful. Sorry!’

  I don’t think Ked is fooled, but Fitz ignores the exchange and the rest of us take plates and help ourselves to the tapas, swapping stories about what we’ve been doing.

  ‘How was the lighting workshop?’ I ask Jake with a grin. ‘Illuminating?’

  ‘Funny,’ he says. ‘It was cool – definitely gave me a few bright ideas. What did you do?’

  ‘I made my friends look like cute, cool aliens,’ I quip, watching as Romy poses for her photo, newly confident in her glitter and fifties dress. It gives me a kick to know that a few strokes of make-up can boost her confidence so much.

  ‘We need to use the glitter theme in your new look,’ Ria tells me. ‘We were thinking of a sixties theme, and this space-style take on it would fit really well. I meant what I said – you have a talent for this. Anyone can learn to contour, but creativity and an instinctive eye for colour and drama is something you can’t teach. Let me know if you ever get tired of being lead singer!’

  I laugh. ‘I will! I really do love make-up. It’s awesome to meet someone who knows what an art form it can be. I can’t wait to see what you have in store for us next week!’

  ‘Ah, Sasha,’ Ked says, gliding up beside me. ‘It’s great to see you looking so fired up! I have a little interview in the pipeline for you, Marley and Lexie. Radio 1 is broadcasting live from the festival and they’d like to meet you. It’s nothing scary – they just want to hear how you feel about what it’s like to be such a young band getting great reviews. They’ll ask about this week in Devon, the mentoring thing, the new EP. And what you think of Starshine Festival, of course!’

  Marley and Lexie are just behind him, their faces bright with excitement. ‘Radio 1!’ Marley breathes. ‘Can’t quite believe it!’

  But my mouth feels dry as dust and there’s a knot of panic in my gut. ‘I don’t know … I don’t think I can do that!’

  ‘Why not?’ Ked frowns as if my words make no sense to him. ‘It’s just answering a few simple questions.’

  ‘On live radio,’ I add. ‘Yes, I know. I can’t do that, Ked – I’m really sorry!’

  ‘C’mon, Sasha!’ Marley argues. ‘You’re our lead singer! People want to hear from you!’

  ‘It’s not as scary as it sounds,’ Lexie chips in.

  But the waves of panic crashing through my body tell another story. ‘I’m just not the right person for this,’ I plead. ‘I get so nervous and I can’t think straight. How about Bex or Sami or Happi?’

  I’ve messed up in style on live radio before – it’s not something I want to repeat. Marley looks annoyed, but Ked nods his head slowly. ‘You’re sure?’ he checks.

  I look past Ked and catch Jake’s eye. He nods softly, grinning and raking a hand through his tawny blond hair. He understands, I know.

  ‘I’m sure.’

  In the end, Sami steps in and the three of them do a brilliant interview that lasts way longer than planned and manages to cover the topics of refugee children, creativity, starting out in the music business and working with the legendary Ked Wilder. The rest of us watch and listen from the makeshift Green Room, and when it’s over the DJ plays a rough-cut recording of our song ‘Train of Thought’.

  ‘Watch out for the Lost & Found,’ he declares. ‘They’re going to be big – and you heard them here first!’

  Marley’s on too much of a high after that to remember to be mad at me and, besides, Ked’s set up another meeting for us, this time with the OK Film team who are tasked with making a promo video for our first single. Like our chat with Ria and Fitz, this is pretty informal – we haven’t chosen our debut single yet, so it’s impossible to plan in detail. Ollie and Krish from OK outline their idea of filming us singing live as if at a big gig, and intercutting this with more informal shots of the band wandering around the grounds of Fox Hollow Hall.

  ‘It’s a great setting,’ Ollie says. ‘Crazy not to use it! Once you’ve settled on a song we’ll tighten things up and see what else we need.’

  ‘One thing’s certain, mind,’ Krish adds. ‘You’ll be the star, Sasha – lead singer and all that. You’ve got a great look, and we’ve seen the ideas Ria and Fitz have for styling. We’ll get your face on all the music channels, the kids’ pop shows, the music mags. You’re going to be famous, girl!’

  My smile freezes, slips sideways. I feel sick and shaky, full of dread.

  ‘What if –’ I begin, but Marley stops me mid-sentence.

  ‘That sounds amazing,’ he says to Krish. ‘I can totally imagine it. We can’t wait for Thursday, can we, guys?’

  ‘No … can’t wait,’ I whisper. I can dodge out of doing a live radio interview, but avoiding the promo video? That’s going to be impossible.

  Later – much later – I’ve danced away the panic to the music of four amazing bands in the main stage tent, laughed so hard the tears roll down my cheeks and lost my new beret in the crowd. I’ve hugged my friends and told them I love them, scuffed my boots beyond repair, wrapped glow-sticks round my wrists and poured a paper cup of iced water over my head in an attempt to cool down. I have only zoned out two or three times all day, which is a bit of a record lately, and every time I came back to myself I found Jake beside me, his hand in mine, telling me I was OK.

  By the time the fifth band begin their set, I’m exhausted. I want to watch them – they won one of the reality talent shows a couple of years ago and have had a string of upbeat, poppy hits – but I’m wiped out and weary.

  ‘Enough?’ Jake asks, and when I nod he takes my hand and leads me out of the crush and back through the arena.

  ‘Chill-out tent,’ Jake says.

  ‘Huh?’

  I must have missed it earlier – the chill-out tent is a kind of wonderland, a beautiful space scattered with Indian rugs and cushions. Prayer flags and lanterns hang everywhere. The tent roof shimmers with a projected image of an indigo sky scattered with stars, and even the air smells sweet and spicy with incense. On the makeshift stage someone is playing a hypnotic-sounding instrument I’ve never seen or heard before, and Jake says it’s a sitar. He fetches us fruit smoothies and we find a corner to flop down and rest, and even though I’m certain my make-up has smudged and my hair has gone frizzy, I can’t remember being this happy for a very long time.

  ‘An hour, then we’d best head out and find the minibus,’ Jake says.

  An hour. I could stay here forever, cross-legged on an Indian rug beside this boy I am starting to like as more than a friend, this boy with hair that sticks up in every direction, with his chocolate-lime addiction and his quiet kindness and lopsided grin.

  I could stay here forever, but if that’s not possible I’ll settle for however long we have.

  211 likes

  SashaSometimes Starshine Festival!

  #DreamComeTrue #SoHappy #Lost&Found #BestBand

  #BestFriends

  MillfordGirl1 First like!

  OllieK So jealous!

  Sweet22 You’re at Starshine! #LifeGoals

  Jo_05 Were you playing?

  Lil_Chels Heard you on the radio earlier!

  littlejen VIP!!!

  SaraLou Did you take the tortoise?

  Musicismylife So happy for you!

  19


  Mask

  It looks like Monday has been cancelled due to lack of interest. The minibus didn’t get back until the early hours and there’s no yoga because Sheddie’s slept in. So have half my band mates, and there’s no aroma of coffee and warm croissants in the kitchen when I go in search of breakfast. Instead, I find Camille hauling sliced bread from the freezer and ransacking the cupboards for marmalade and jam.

  ‘Mrs B has flu,’ she tells me. ‘High fever, aching bones, can’t get out of bed – we’re on our own. It’ll be DIY breakfast today … I’ll see if I can defrost this bread!’

  ‘No worries,’ I tell her. ‘We’re not going to starve, are we?’

  Camille laughs. ‘No, definitely not!’

  In the end, I run through my vocal exercises right there in the kitchen, and Camille shares her best tips for getting calm and centred before a performance. Her confidence is catching, and my spirits soar at the thought of taking control of the anxiety.

  Lexie appears with Mary Shelley in her cardboard carrying case. ‘I’ve been writing,’ she says, dropping a notebook on to the zinc-topped table. ‘Inspired by that collage from the other day – all those cut-outs from the beauty mags. Can’t get it out of my head.’

  I blink, secretly thrilled that one of my ideas might make song status.

  Camille makes more toast as Bex, Romy, Happi and Jake drift down to join us, followed by Marley, Lee, George and Sami. I notice Camille tidying away a few wine glasses and empty bottles from the living room, which may explain why most of the adults are missing in action this morning.

  Without Ked’s guidance, our studio songwriting workshop starts slowly. Lexie lies on the floor, scrawling new lines, chopping things around, piecing words together jigsaw style, while Mary Shelley the tortoise rustles gently through the dozens of ideas and papers from Saturday spread across the floor. Bex picks up her bass and starts to play around with riffs and chords, while Romy and Happi put together a gentle violin melody. Sami picks up his flute and joins in.

  ‘The song’s about masks,’ Lexie tells us. ‘I have loads of ideas – maybe there are actually two songs here? I can’t tell. Standing out and blending in, wanting to be seen and wanting to pass unnoticed …’

  ‘Like a game of hide-and-seek,’ I chip in, and Lexie nods, scribbling down my words.

  ‘Sometimes just fitting in is all I actually want to do,’ Happi says. ‘I don’t want to stand out. Not for the way I look, anyway!’

  ‘We want to be seen for who we are,’ Jake adds. ‘Not what others want us to be. That’s something we can’t always live up to.’

  Our eyes meet briefly and we exchange a grin. He has a way of tapping into the heart of things. I can’t help wondering whether he’s talking about me, or whether this is just the way we all feel.

  ‘I hate being judged,’ I find myself saying. ‘When you’re part of a band like the Lost & Found the judgements never stop. You’re the lead singer, so you must be confident, flirty, brave … I’m not any of those things!’

  ‘I think you’re brave,’ Jake says, so quietly that I’m not sure anyone else hears. I feel my cheeks flare with pink.

  ‘People look at me and think I’m swotty and shy and boring,’ Romy chips in. ‘It makes me sad because I know there’s so much more to me than that. I loved the glitter make-up you did for me yesterday, Sash – that felt like putting on a mask, but it also felt like freedom. It gave me the courage to be me!’

  ‘Looked incredible,’ George comments, then coughs and turns a startling shade of crimson that matches Romy’s.

  ‘It was great to see you so confident!’ I tell her, trying not to smile. ‘Why are people always so judgy? We stick labels on each other all the time. Then we have to live with those labels – and sometimes we try to live up to them too …’

  I think of my Instagram feed, deliberately styled to show a perfect girl, loving life, having fun. It’s a real work of fiction – even I don’t recognize the girl in the pictures. It’s just another mask.

  ‘I’m done with labels,’ Romy states. ‘I’m just me. Take it or leave it!’

  ‘We’ll take it,’ Bex says, looking up from her bass. ‘Be yourself, and never apologize for it – even if you’re shaking in your shoes!’

  ‘I’m shaking,’ Dylan quips, sneaking in quietly, his hair still damp from the shower. Marley tells him to shut up, and Dylan pulls a face but does as he’s told. We’re all here now, and there’s a sense that something cool is happening.

  ‘You know who my role model is? Mary Shelley!’ Lexie tells us, watching the little tortoise mooching around the studio. ‘She’s always chilled. She doesn’t struggle with trying to be something she’s not.’

  ‘Be more Mary,’ Jake says, and everyone laughs.

  ‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘If Mary wants to shut the world out for a bit, she can withdraw into her shell any time she likes. I envy that. I’ve spent years wishing I could disappear, be invisible. I used to think it would be cool – a sort of freedom. But maybe it’d be scary too …’

  I want to say more. I want to say that if you spend your whole life trying to be invisible, then maybe one day you will disappear for real. I want to tell Lexie and Happi and Romy about the black-hole moments, but it feels too big a thing to say, even with Jake here for moral support. I don’t think I have the words, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin this moment when we’re all working together, sharing ideas, creating something new.

  Lexie pulls together a song that feels so raw, so personal, I don’t quite know how I’ll be able to sing it. The finished lyrics are passed round, and Marley begins to shape a tune. When I look up, I notice that Ked has come in and is sitting on the windowsill beside Camille, watching, smiling.

  We break for lunch an hour later than scheduled, with the mask song sounding great. Mandy, Jon and Sheddie have taken over the cooking, and we eat baked potatoes with cheese and beans, and lament the loss of Mrs B’s cakes and puddings.

  ‘We could just do our own?’ Happi suggests, and moments later Romy, Jake and I are up and hunting for flour and butter and sugar while Happi Googles a foolproof recipe for chocolate brownies. We’re a long way from Bake Off standard, but it’s fun to beat the eggs and fold them into the butter and sugar, fun to whisk in cocoa powder and flour to make a glossy batter.

  Lexie isn’t baking – all through lunch she sits on the big window seat, nibbling absently at an apple as she scribbles in her notebook. She’s so immersed in what she’s doing that she’s barely aware of Sami, who sits sketching at her feet, or Mary Shelley, who patrols around her, a small tortoise-shaped bodyguard. The rest of us give her space in case another song is forming.

  There’s a blob of chocolate cake mix on Jake’s nose and a dusting of flour across his T-shirt. His tongue pokes out a little as he concentrates.

  ‘We could pick some apples later and make a crumble for tomorrow,’ he suggests. ‘There are five or six apple trees behind the studio. Later?’

  ‘OK,’ I say, grinning.

  ‘This week has been a blast so far,’ he declares. ‘It’s just what we needed. Lexie’s fizzing with ideas … the rest of us are learning loads … and yesterday at Starshine was epic. Best of all, it turns out I’m a natural with a whisk. Who knew?’

  ‘See if you’re a natural with the washing up,’ Romy scolds, chucking him a tea towel. ‘And try not to flood the place, OK?’

  By the time the brownies are out of the oven and cool enough to try, Lexie is leaning back, reading through her notes. Slowly a big smile spreads across her face.

  ‘Another song?’ I ask, offering her the first pick of the cakes. ‘You were miles away back there … I guess inspiration hit.’

  ‘It was what we were saying earlier about being seen,’ Lexie says with a shrug. ‘And wanting to disappear. I had an idea and I wanted to get it down … I’ve kind of gone off at a tangent, but I think it might be good. Maybe!’

  Marley thinks so too, and although there’s no time set aside to
develop another song, he shows the new lyrics to Ked and Camille, gives Lexie the thumbs up and herds us all back to the studio. Fuelled by chocolate brownies and a couple of pitchers of lemonade, we play around with chords and melodies for the second new song. Camille suggests tempo changes and a different key that shifts everything and makes us all sit up and take notice. Bex begins a steady bass beat in the background while Dylan tries a couple of percussion ideas.

  ‘I like this,’ Ked says. ‘Strong imagery, strong idea. And I like where you’re going with the sounds too – it’s different, it’s good. You can go loud with this one. Layer in some subtle stuff too, but push the basic melody as hard as you can because that hook is great. I think we’re on to something!’

  We work on the new song all afternoon, polishing, perfecting, switching things round until we can all see the magic. There’s an energy in the studio I haven’t seen since we first got together, and it’s infectious. It doesn’t feel pressured or stressful, just exciting – a bunch of us working hard to create the best possible outcome – and I’m on a high because the song is inspired by my idea sheet from Saturday and the discussion earlier. It’s something I can really relate to. For once I don’t feel self-conscious or worried, I’m just part of the team, belting out the lyrics, letting Camille suggest different ways of doing it, experimenting, having fun.

  Fun. That’s something that’s been missing from my life for a while … it’s great to have it back again. Maybe Jake is right and this time at Fox Hollow Hall will fill us with new enthusiasm for the Lost & Found. Maybe it can repair my battered self-esteem after all?

  As the rest of the band plough on with practice, Camille works with Marley, Romy, Lexie and me to develop harmonies for the two new songs. As I sing, the others weave harmonies around me. We’ve learned more in the last few days than we had in months working on our own.

  ‘This is what I want from you, Sasha,’ Camille tells me, grinning. ‘Your voice is beautiful, but it’s only now I’m hearing the passion and confidence I knew was there all along. You can’t fake it. When you’re singing, you need to believe the song – you need to be it. Keep singing like this and you’ll knock the socks off Lola Rockett!’