Playlist for a Broken Heart (10 page)

For the next half-hour, I went through the list and discovered that most of the bands had Facebook pages. All of them posted where they were playing next. I also realised that, apart from
Sainted, the bands were current – which meant that the CD was probably not made too long ago.

When Tasmin appeared, I was buzzing with energy. I found the page on my computer about Black Pearl’s gig on Friday and filled her in on what I’d discovered so far.

‘We have to go,’ she said as she read the page. ‘Looks like it might be some kind of music festival. They often have them there.’

‘Cool. And we already know that Mystery Boy likes the band, which is why he chose one of their tracks. Wow, Tasmin, he might be there at the gig.’

‘He might. But how are we supposed to recognise him?’ she asked.

I wasn’t going to be put off. I tapped the side of my nose. ‘Follow the clues.’

Tasmin laughed. ‘You haven’t changed at all,’ she said. ‘I remember when we were little you used to love mystery games. Remember that Easter when Mum did an Easter egg
hunt in the garden? We were about seven. You loved it and found the most. I was so jealous but you shared them with me.’

I vaguely remembered Tasmin with her face covered with chocolate. She was right, I did used to like playing hide and seek or any game that involved having to find something or someone.

‘So do you think this mystery boy might be the love of your life then?’ asked Tasmin as she lay back on her bed.

I thought about Alex and shook my head as I made a note of the time for Black Pearl’s performance on Saturday. ‘No. I’d like to know who he is but I want to find out more about
the story. Who was Sarah and what happened? She might have chucked the CD out after dumping him. From the music, it sounds like the boy was searching for himself as much as for her. He sounds very
romantic. He might have been too much for her but his expectations were too high. Who knows? It’s intriguing, isn’t it?’

I glanced over at Tasmin. She was fast asleep.

Mystery Boy

Wednesday night. I go to the park on the way home from school with the CD. I know the time she comes through with her dog now. His name is Geoffrey. I’ve learnt that
much because I’ve heard her call his name. How can I get the CD to her? I can’t just walk up and hand it to her. I want her to listen to it. I want it to speak to her heart the way she
has spoken to mine. I want her to think,
Oh, I’d like to know who put this together
. I could follow her home, find out her address and post it. But that would seem like I was
stalking her and I’m not a creep, and I don’t want her to think of me as one. How could I make it romantic? Hire a flock of birds to carry it to her? No chance. The only birds in the
park are pigeons and I wouldn’t want them pooping on her head.

I stood under a tree for almost an hour. No sign of her – and then the heavens opened. I got soaked to the skin.

Thursday: back to the park. I see Geoffrey. She can’t be far behind him. My heart begins to pound as I anticipate giving her the CD. I could stroll past her, say,
‘I think you dropped this.’ But then she’d see me. What to do? She’s getting closer. My heart beats faster. Noooo. She’s with three of her mates. I turn away.

Friday: back in the park. I see a bunch of kids playing, their parents some distance off. I call one of them over, give him a quid and tell him to give the envelope to the lady who’ll come
by in a minute with a dog. He agrees and goes off. I stand behind my tree, watch and wait. The boy’s father is talking to him. He looks at the envelope. Looks over to my tree. I retreat
behind it before he sees me. The father looks annoyed and puts the CD in the litter bin. The boy gets a telling off. His father takes him by the hand and marches him out of the park. My girl comes,
Geoffrey pulling her ahead as always.

I wait until she’s gone, go to the bin and retrieve my love songs.

Bummer. Getting it to her will have to wait until another day.

‘We have some news,’ said Dad at the breakfast table on Friday morning. It was the tenth of May and we’d been in Bath five weeks. ‘I think we’ve
found a flat.’ I knew that this might be a possibility but hadn’t wanted to get my hopes up too much. I knew that Dad had been looking at properties for rent in the area since the
moment we’d got to Bath, but he’d had no luck because all the rental agencies wanted details of bank accounts and income, neither of which he could provide any more.

Mum said he’d been getting depressed about it until he met an old friend of Uncle Mike’s who’d come up with a solution. He had a flat on the south side of Bath that he rented
out and his tenants were about to leave. Uncle Mike had filled his friend in on the bare bones of our story, assured him that we would keep up payments and that Uncle Mike would stand as our
guarantor. His friend had agreed to give it three months with an option to continue after that if there were no problems.

Dad turned to me. ‘So you want to come and take a look tomorrow morning? I can get the keys today.’

I glanced over at Tasmin who gave her head a small shake as if to say, ‘No’. She couldn’t speak because she had her mouth full of Coco Pops. We had our plan to meet up with
Clover and then go to the music festival on Walcot Street. I was really looking forward to it but I didn’t want to let Dad down either. He appeared so much better than in recent weeks and
seemed to have got some of his old sparkle back.

‘Yes, course I do,’ I replied, avoiding Tasmin’s glare at my answer. I wanted to go to the festival but I also wanted to see where we might be living. ‘Then I’m
going into town if that’s OK.’

‘Of course it is. We won’t be long. We just wanted to show you the place,’ said Mum. ‘We’ve already seen it and . . . well, it isn’t our old home in Richmond,
but it will be our own space again.’

Everyone will be glad of that
, I thought as I looked around the kitchen, which was cluttered with the debris from nine people having breakfast.

‘Amen to that,’ said Tasmin as if reading my thoughts. ‘No offence meant.’

‘None taken,’ I said as I helped myself to some raspberry yoghurt.

On Saturday morning, Dad showed me around our new home. It was the first-floor flat in a four-storey Georgian terraced house in a small square on the other side of Bath to Aunt
Karen’s – two bedrooms, kitchen-diner, bathroom and large elegant sitting room with tall windows that overlooked the square below. It was unfurnished and the décor was nothing
special, painted in stone neutrals. It had wooden floors but the ceilings were high and the windows flooded the place with light.

‘What do you think?’ asked Mum as we walked though.

I gave her a hug by way of reply. We’d stayed in some of the finest hotels in the world, had our spacious lovely home in Richmond, but this small flat, with its box bedroom for me, felt
like the height of luxury. I loved it.

‘And do you think we could maybe get our bed linen out of storage?’ I asked.

‘Most definitely,’ said Dad. ‘I don’t think I could sleep another night on those lumpy pillows.’

Mum laughed. ‘I think we could bring a few things here, don’t you?’ she asked.

‘Definitely,’ he replied. He went over to the windows in the sitting room and looked out. ‘And this won’t be forever . . . but it will do for now. It will definitely
do.’

I went and stood by him and put my arm around his waist.

‘And your dad has a business idea, don’t you, Patrick?’ said Mum.

Dad nodded. ‘Don’t want to say too much about it yet, Louise. Don’t want to jinx it. Early days. Early days.’

‘I’m sure it will be brilliant whatever it is,’ I said.

Dad grinned. ‘Actually I think it is. Watch this space, kiddo. Mr Lord has arrived in town.’

I hadn’t seen either of them so happy in ages.

After our viewing, I set off for town to meet the girls. The sunshine had brought out the tourists and the streets were full of people enjoying the weather. Even though
I’d only been in Bath a short while, I was getting familiar with the city and easily found my way up to our meeting point.

Tasmin and Clover were already there, standing outside the deli with a group of boys, some of whom I recognised from school. Aiden, Ed, Chas (Clover’s boyfriend) and Stu (Tasmin’s
ex). They were all friendly, said hi, and I noticed Luke checking me out but he wasn’t my type, nor were any of the rest of them. There was only one boy for me and he was Alex Taylor. Since
Allegra had told me that he was coming to Bath, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

As we stood chatting for a while, I could hear music coming from the car park, which was halfway down a slope opposite where there were a crowd of people standing in front of a stage to the
left. Others were at various stalls lining the pavement in front of the slope and the smell of frying onions, bacon and burgers filled the air.

We set off to join the crowds in the car park and I filled Tasmin and Clover in on the new flat.

‘We’re moving in a couple of weeks,’ I said.

‘Yay,’ said Tasmin. ‘I’ll get my room back.’

‘Don’t mind her,’ said Clover and she squeezed my arm.

‘I don’t. It means I get my own space again too. So double yay.’

‘Invite us over,’ said Clover.

‘We’ll have a sleepover. Housewarming sort of thing,’ Tasmin added.

I laughed. We were just about to get our space back and she wanted to come and share again but I took it as a compliment. She wanted to stay friends.

As soon as we had our place by a wall towards the back, Tasmin started surveying the crowd. Over to the left, halfway into the crowd, I noticed Niall. He was surrounded by girls and had his arm
around one of them. He glanced over at our group and when he saw me, he waved and then put his index finger up for a moment as though asking me to wait a second. He leant over to get something out
of the carrier bag at his feet. It looked like it was full of groceries. He pulled something out, held it and pointed at it and then at himself. He was holding up a jar of Marmite. First he looked
at the jar with a big smile and then changed his expression to one of disgust, like bleurgh. I got it. Marmite, you either love it or hate it.

I laughed, then I pulled the bleurgh face back at him and he nodded and laughed too.
What a cheek
, I thought, flirting with me when he was with someone else. The girl he was with looked
at him quizzically and he put the jar back in the carrier bag then appeared to be explaining the joke to her. The girl glanced over at me then turned her back. I turned away too and scanned the
rest of the crowd.

‘Looking for someone?’ asked Stu.

‘Sort of,’ I replied.

‘A mystery boy,’ said Tasmin. ‘He made a CD and Paige wants to know who he is.’

‘CD? How very quaint. Have you got it with you?’ Stu asked.

I shook my head. ‘It’s at home but whoever made it has to be local because all of the tracks are local bands.’

‘And we know that one of the bands is playing today. Black Pearl,’ added Clover. ‘They’re on in an hour.’

I made a mental note to always carry the CD with me as we listened to the band on stage and I continued scanning the audience. After about ten minutes, the band playing left and a boy of about
nineteen got up to play his guitar. As soon as he started singing, I recognised his voice. He was the singer of the ballad that was track one on the CD.

‘Do you know who he is?’ I whispered to Stu.

‘Callum Casey,’ said Stu. ‘Used to go to our school.’

I went back to listening and moved forward in order to hear better. He wasn’t singing the same song as the CD but another song that was similar. I liked the look of him too. He
wasn’t exactly stand-out good-looking, but he had something. He was tall with shoulder-length hair and the indie look that most of the musicians in Bath had. I pushed further into the crowd.
For a split second, Callum looked straight at me. I felt a bolt of electricity.
Maybe Callum is Mystery Boy
, I thought as his glance moved away from me and across the rest of the audience.
Maybe Mystery Boy’s a musician? That would make sense and be why his track was number one and why he chose local bands for his CD. They could all be his mates.

Callum did a couple of numbers then got up to leave. I watched him go backstage, down some steps to the right then disappear. Another band came on and the lead singer went straight to the main
microphone.

‘We need a drummer,’ he said. ‘Anyone out there who can drum? Our guy’s just been dragged off by his parents. He wasn’t supposed to be here.’ The crowd
laughed but no one got up to drum. The band did a set but I didn’t like their music so I went back to join the others at the back. Not long after, Painted Asparagus came on. They were from
the CD too. I recognised their name and their sound. They were good, really good, with great vocals. To the right of the stage, I noticed that Callum Casey had reappeared and was watching the band
playing from the side of the car park.

‘Do you think he’s here then?’ asked Tasmin.

‘Mystery Boy?’ I replied. ‘I bet he is.’ I looked over at Callum again. ‘But how would we know for sure without going up to loads of boys and asking them . .
.’ An idea suddenly struck me. ‘Unless we ask someone to put out an announcement from the stage. What do you think?’

Tasmin shrugged. ‘What would we say?’

‘Er . . . something like, ‘‘Can the boy who made a home-made CD recently please come to the stage?’’ No, it’s a mad idea.’

‘No it’s not,’ said Tasmin. ‘I’m going to go and ask them to do it.’ She jumped down from the wall and raced forward before I could stop her. Moments later, I
saw her talking to a man to the right of the stage. When Painted Asparagus had finished their set, the man got up and went centre stage. ‘A big hand for Painted Asparagus. Thanks guys. Next
to play will be White Light. And a short announcement, or request. Can a boy who recently made a home-made CD come to the right of the stage? Someone is looking for you.’