by Beth Garrod
‘I totally agree, Ben.’ The whole place was lit up with massive pictures of Chase Cheney. ‘Chase does look st-unning.’ I never had Ben down as a Cheneyator though.
But he groaned something that sounded like, ‘Urun’. Was he trying to say Erin? And why was he still tapping?
I shuffled to the left back seat. What was he pointing at?
But when I saw it I knew.
And I knew that despite having to fake a banana phobia.
Despite Frankie telling my dad ‘she’d never met a cooler Norman and she’d love to see his Circus Skills hula-hoop routine’.
Despite potentially crushing another body part of my sister’s boyfriend.
Despite watching my best friend slowly think I’d lost the plot.
And despite walking away from free ice cream…
Maybe this evening hadn’t been a write-off.
Because at the top of the stadium, right where Ben was pointing, was a sight even more glorious than Chase himself.
Two stone statues. Two women touching hands.
The exact same ones in the frame at The Hairy Godmother.
And suddenly the circled date made sense.
The Hairy Godmother was going to be here. At Chase’s concert. Tomorrow.
Sure, tickets were rarer than gold dust, and security tighter than Buckingham Palace, but Erin and I were going to HAVE to get inside that venue.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I’d never seen anywhere so busy. There were people everywhere.
It was definitely not a normal feeling to be frantically scanning them all to find someone who looked like… myself.
Me: Where are you?!!
Erin: Chill your boots. Painting scenery overran. I’m almost there.
We’d agreed to meet outside the stadium at 3.30 p.m., as soon as the doors opened, right across the street from the huge entrance with the stone women.
Was there any way my plan would work?
The venue was totally surrounded by security guards, hundreds of people queuing, police officers and… yup, some police horses had just arrived. Were there sniffer dogs too?!
I was nervous enough without adding a potential mauling to the situation! And where was my sister? How could she be fifteen minutes late? Every second counted!
I breathed deeply and tried not to look at the dog that was pulling apart a Chase Cheney figure someone had dropped.
I couldn’t believe we’d been so slow to put all the clues together. Agatha had mentioned she worked backstage at concerts – she’d even said something about Chase Cheney. We’d had the answer all along!
Which was why I was extra mad at myself, because if I’d figured it out before, I wouldn’t have had to message Micha this morning to last-minute bail on meeting her in town. I’d done everything I could to try and keep the plan alive, but I had to admit defeat. And it sucked – we’d been planning it for ever. Still, as long as we swapped back this afternoon, I could make sure Mich and I had the best sleepover tonight and I’d be there cheering her on at football tomorrow. Just as we’d planned.
All I had to do was break into the busiest arena in the UK, with the tightest security, to get backstage with the world’s biggest pop star, and track down an elusive magical hairdresser. Easy.
Me: I promise PROMISE I’ll make it up to you
Me: Sorry. SORRY.
I saw Micha type. And stop. And type again.
Micha: It’s fine.
No emojis. No motivational penguins. No telling me it wasn’t even a thing. I knew my best friend well enough to know ‘it’s fine’ meant ‘it’s really not’.
And the worst thing was, I didn’t just bail on today – I’d asked for her help too.
Micha: You at least going to tell me why?
My stomach knotted. I hadn’t been able to think of any other way Erin and I could be here this evening without Mum and Dad saying no. So despite hating dragging Micha further into this, I’d asked her to cover for us. Right now she was pretending to her family our sleepover had started super-early and that I was in her room, all so that my sister could be here undetected. I’d told Mum and Dad I was seeing Ben to cheer him up about his bruised (not broken, yay) foot. Being Erin was easy – I could do anything, no questions asked. If I were in my real body I’d have been asked to show them a plotted route and evidence my phone battery was charged.
Eurgh. I hated all this lying. To Micha. To everyone.
Me: I promise I will when I can.
There was nothing I wanted to talk to Mich about more.
Micha: What time do you reckon you’ll be here?
Me: 8-9?
Micha: Can you get here ASAP? I can sneak you in the back way. I’ve said we’re watching Up and having an emotional time so no one comes in
I said sorry-thanks another ten times and reminded myself that I wouldn’t be letting her down if I had any other choice, and that by this evening we would be leaping around her room, putting all this behind us. We had to be.
‘Okay then. Tell me again. Are we really doing this?’
My sister had arrived.
‘You’re late.’ And why out of all the T-shirts I had, including an official Chase Cheney one, was Erin wearing one of hers that read: ‘Sorry I’m Late, I Didn’t Want to Come’? I had to hope that in a crowd of forty thousand people, not one of them had remembered to charge their phone or bring a camera. ‘And yes, we’re really doing it. So we need to start the plan now.’
Erin raised an eyebrow. ‘And you’re convinced this will work?’
Her tone told me she wasn’t. ‘You’re going to have to trust me,’ I said. Truth was, I didn’t know if we could pull it off either… but I knew we had to try. We didn’t have an option.
‘No offence –’ here came the insult – ‘but I think it could be a disaster.’
Dad really needed to talk to Erin about her motivational chat.
‘Look, Erin. You’re right, it might be. But…’ What could I tell her? That I’d spent all day on fan forums working out how we could do it? That I’d borrowed Mum’s top so I could look responsible and wise? That I’d watched an hour-long video on the power of positive thinking? ‘It’s all we’ve got.’
And that was something even my sister couldn’t disagree with.
It was weird feeling so nervous in the middle of thousands of people singing, shouting and living their best lives. I checked no one was paying any attention and got out my battered notebook with my carefully written-up plan.
MISSION BREAK INTO THE ARTEMIS AND ATHENA ARENA + FIND THE HAIRY GODMOTHER + SWAP YOU KNOW WHATS
Break into arena.
Find the Hairy Godmother.
Swap you know whats.
‘I see.’ Erin looked unimpressed. ‘And you don’t think the title sort of covered that?’
‘Oh, there’s more.’ I turned the page.
3.30 – 4.30 p.m.: Find the press queue. Get in it. Persuade them Lily Mavers is on the list to cover the event for GettingLilyWithIt.
(Idea: try and get on any backstage tours to look extra legit!!)
Persuade them Lily has her big sister as a chaperone.
4.30 – 6 p.m.: Get inside venue. Look cool and calm and totally normal (but on the inside celebrate my genius plan working).
6 – 7.55 p.m.: Erin (real) to search backstage pretending to be doing a piece on ‘Chase Unfiltered’ – a behind-the-scenes look at who and what goes into making Chase’s show. The perfect excuse to scope out the dressing rooms and FIND AGATHA!!!
My sister still looked unimpressed. I kept my voice low, glancing from side to side as if we were undercover agents. ‘Erin, treat this plan like it’s homework, okay? Don’t stop until you think you’ll get an A.’
‘Star.’ She smiled smugly, but at least the message had gone in. I got back to the list.
Props: pad, pen, emergency hat for disguise.
Which reminded me…
‘Once we’re inside I’ll give you these.’ I reached into M
um’s bag and checked the props were there. It was her super-formal shoulder bag with a hundred compartments and she’d let me borrow it (she honestly said yes to whatever Erin asked). The perfect ‘serious chaperone’ accessory, as no Chase fan would be seen dead with it.
Lily (real) will also be looking for clues (secretly). Whoever finds HG first gets the other one there ASAP to you know what!!! (Put her magical skills to use.)
7.55 – 8 p.m.: (Or sooner. I don’t know how long body-swapping takes.) GET SWAPPED BACK.
8 p.m.: Chase Cheney will still be on stage!!! Get a glimpse before leaving.
8.30 p.m. – tomorrow: Lily (real) (which will now be me) (in my own body) to enjoy myself in my rightful place – at my bday sleepover at Micha’s
Erin nodded, taking the plan in (although ignoring the bad drawing of a porcupine), but I hadn’t finished.
RULES:
Phones on at ALL times.
No doing anything embarrassing.
‘Obviously that T-shirt already breaks rule two, but other than that, think you’ve got it?’ I watched Erin giving it another read.
‘Uh-huh. Shouldn’t be too hard.’ Hard? This was the concert I’d been trying to get into for months. Pulling this off would be harder than Erin trying to show her face at the bowling alley again! ‘And you’re sure the Hairy Godmother will be here?’
I nodded hard. I’d crept into my room as soon as I’d got back from A & E last night to explain the evidence to Erin. The statues on the venue. Today’s circled date. What Agatha had told us about working for Chase. It all added up.
But as we joined the press queue, what was a scary plan on paper felt absolutely face-numbingly terrifying in real life. And every second we slowly moved closer to the sign that said GUESTS AND ACCREDITATION I felt more bits of me turn to jelly.
By the time we got to the front, I was a sweating, gibbering mess. Did we stick out like sore thumbs? Behind us were all thirty-somethings, on their phones, not even excited to be here.
‘Names?’ A bored-looking man the other side of a small window looked up from behind a stack of envelopes.
‘Lily Mavers,’ I said automatically, before remembering. ‘Which is her.’ I pointed at my sister. ‘I’m her plus one.’
‘She’s my chaperone,’ my sister said calmly. I lifted Mum’s bag as if that was somehow the proof. ‘I’m on the press list? Under “GettingLilyWithIt”. I’m doing a piece on backstage.’
Wow. I could totally see why Mrs Saddler liked my sister – she was an amazing actor. My plan might actually work!
The man looked up and down the long list of names, then back up at us. ‘Say again?’
My sister calmly repeated everything. ‘You could try TheNicReport.’ She sounded so confident. ‘I syndicate my content.’
Syndicate my content?! I didn’t even know what ‘syndicate’ meant. Although in fairness, right now I didn’t even know what ‘sandwich’ meant I was so nervous.
The man pressed his pen into the list, then rifled through the alphabetically ordered sealed envelopes. I knew nothing was going to be there for us, but I also knew he had the power to hand out passes if we could just make him believe that there should be something. My mouth had gone totally dry. I couldn’t cope with the tension – especially as a massive cheer suddenly roared out of the venue. It was 4.30 p.m. The first support band had come on stage! Sara and the Spacemen and Tortoiseca were both playing. It was really happening.
‘Nope.’ The man put the list down. ‘Nothing. So move out the way so the people who are meant to be here can get through.’ He waved the people behind us forward.
No. No, no, no! I gripped the ledge under his window, my hands shaking. It was a long shot but this had to work. We had to convince him! There was no plan B! My life depended on it! I turned to my sister – but she looked ruffled. Not a good sign.
Although she hadn’t budged either.
‘Can you check one more time? Please.’ She was trying to keep cool but I could hear panic creeping out. If my sister who always got what she wanted couldn’t make this happen, we really did have a problem. But the guy just rolled his eyes.
‘Sorry, ladies.’ He leant back and folded his arms. ‘I wasn’t born yesterday. So if you could move aside.’ His patience had gone from low to zilch. ‘Now.’
It was over. Our one chance to fix this had gone.
But as we turned round to leave, I saw it. A flash of black dungarees. A shaved head. A tattoo I’d recognize anywhere.
Agatha was here! She really was.
And she’d just walked through the door marked ‘Production’.
And I’d just had an idea that could work. Even if I was going to pay for it for the rest of my life. Maybe beyond.
I couldn’t stop to think about what I was about to do.
I turned back.
‘Sorry…’ I used my elbow to squeeze back in front of the two guys who’d been behind us. They didn’t look impressed but then again, they weren’t having to spend the evening with someone in a ‘Sorry I’m Late, I Didn’t Want to Come’ T-shirt, so I didn’t have that much sympathy. I hit my hand down decisively on the ledge in front of the ticket window.
The press guy looked surprised to see me back. ‘I should have said… They might have swapped our names round. Lily could be down as my plus one?’ My sister’s eyes burnt into me. Please, please let me pull this off. ‘I’m…’ I took a deep breath and prepared to seal my fate. ‘Frankie. Well, Frances. Frances Walker?’
If she ever found out, Frankie would kill me. Then resuscitate me just to kill me all over again. Was I really stealing her backstage passes?
Yes… yes, I was.
‘And have you got ID?’ the man asked, no hint of a smile.
Uh-oh. I blinked. And panicked. And blinked some more.
Although… Wait. I pulled out my wallet. ‘Yup.’
As I pulled out Frankie’s library card I felt like Arthur when he yanked out Excalibur.
‘Hold it somewhere I can see, love,’ the man said, confused as to why I was holding it triumphantly above my head.
I slid it under the window. Thank goodness Frankie had tried to be arty and had gone for a black and white shot, wearing a hat and sunglasses. You couldn’t really make out anything except hair and someone blowing a kiss. I was a genius. A genius with questionable morals. I looked at my sister and mouthed, ‘Tell no one.’ She nodded. Regardless of how she felt about Frankie, if this worked it had to be between us, and us only.
The man slid the library card back, along with a white envelope.
‘And you said she –’ he nodded at my sister – ‘was covering backstage? So should I add her name to the backstage tour?’
I nodded, confirming her name, not believing what was happening.
This had worked! Like a dream!
And maybe I shouldn’t stress too much about the tickets – if Frankie hadn’t picked them up by now, it surely meant she wasn’t coming after all and would never even know anyone had ‘borrowed’ them.
Maybe this was the perfect plan after all!
As I walked away, opening up the envelope, it felt better than winning the lottery.
In my hand were two Access All Areas wristbands.
Clicking them on, I grabbed Erin and marched us towards the venue.
Straight to the door Agatha had just disappeared through.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
We stepped inside the arena and were immediately hit by a wall of sound. Music and chaos. Amazing chaos. In every direction, staff dressed all in black were rushing through corridors, shouting into headsets and looking stressed. Yet right next to them, as if it were the most chilled-out place on earth, super-glamorous people were clutching drinks and leaning back against the brick walls casually chatting.
What I’d give for Mich to be here.
Even seeing a CHASE CHENEY RUBBISH COLLECTION sign made my brain wobble.
But there was no time to look lovingly at bins. We were on a missi
on. Erin and I did a speedy lap of the level we’d walked in on, but there was no sign of Agatha so we headed upstairs. At the top a group of people were huddled together touching their toes and bending backwards like the concept of spines had bypassed them. Oh holy moly.
They were Chase’s backup dancers!
‘Can we wait here for a sec?’ I pulled Erin into the doorway opposite them.
I needed a moment. A serious moment. I was centimetres from someone who had touched a trainer – maybe even a little finger – with Chase!
Which gave me an idea. Probably a bad one, but I had to try it. It was what Micha would want.
I reached into my bag and grabbed the chunky highlighter pen I’d packed as a prop. As casually as possible, I turned to pass it to Erin. My plan was to ‘accidentally’ flick it so it fell and rolled on the floor near the dancers. Then I could pick it up, maybe even say hi, and brush my arm into one of them meaning there’d be a 0.00000000001 per cent possibility that some Chase DNA would end up on my elbow. What a time to be alive.
Except at the exact moment I flicked the pen, I saw something even more magical than Agatha.
More magical than a unicorn! Being ridden by the Easter Bunny! In a race with the tooth fairy!
Chase Cheney had walked into the corridor!
CHASE actual CHENEY!
Who looked even more perfect in real life!
My legs buckled. Even my knee tendons knew this was a huge, huge moment.
And he was talking! Sounding all American and amazing.
‘Oh, my lace has come undone.’
Oh, my lace has come undone. What sweet sound? Forget Shakespeare, Chase had the perfect way with words! And now he was bending down to do his lace back up!
I would remember this sight for ever!
Although… what was that…?
Something was flying through the air.
Right towards his nose.
And Chase was looking up. Scared.
And the dancers were shouting, ‘Waaaaattttccccchhhh ooooouuuuut!’
