The Boyfriend Dilemma (17 page)

Chapter twenty-two

“Layla? LAYLA?”

“Coming, Mum,” I call back, giving myself a final check in the mirror and deciding my denim shorts are fine, and my bright blue top is fine, as are the purple-and-black stripy tights and the black DMs that I found in the charity shop the other day, hardly scuffed and just my size. Yeah, everything's
fine
. We've had lunch, and I've chatted to Auntie Claire, and now I just want to get going.

I clatter downstairs to be greeted by Amber. “Gran's missing!” she announces, her eyes round with worry.

“What? Where's she gone?”

“We don't know,” she cries. I turn to see Mum and Aunty Claire in the kitchen doorway, looking worried.

“Have you any idea where she might be?” Mum asks. “Claire and I were just washing up, and when I popped back into the living room, she'd gone.”

“We've looked everywhere,” Aunty Claire adds. “All over the house and out in the street …”

“I don't know where else she'd be,” I say. “What d'you think we should do?”

Aunty Claire shakes her head. “I've said it before: you should keep the front door locked.”

“It's her home,” Mum mutters. “Not a prison—”

“But look what's happened!” Aunty Claire exclaims.

Mum sighs loudly. Aunty Claire – Mum's sister – is lovely, but sometimes she's a bit too bossy for Mum's liking. “I don't know
what
to do,” Mum tells me. “I've called Dad and he's coming straight back to help us look for her.” She checks her watch. “He'll be here any minute. Kyle's already left for the auditions…”

“I'll check the yard,” I say quickly, hurrying out in case Gran's got mixed up and is having her morning cigarette at at twenty to two in the afternoon. Nothing – just her plastic chair and Amber's fish purse sitting beneath it in its box.

“Dad's here,” Mum says as I go back inside. “Let's all start looking…”

“But the auditions!” As soon as the words have popped out of my mouth, I'd give anything to stuff them back in again. “What about them?” Mum snaps.

“You care more about the auditions than Gran!” Amber announces.

“Of course I don't,” I exclaim. “It's just—”

“Kevin,” Mum interrupts, turning to Dad, “you take Amber and drive around and look for her. Me, Claire and Layla will go on foot, all right? That way, we'll be covering the roads and all the footpaths and the park… And, Layla, you might be a little bit late, but that doesn't matter, does it? You can text Zoe and explain.”

They're all looking at me. I swallow and nod. “Of course, Mum.”

“Good,” Dad says firmly, taking Amber by the hand and leading her outside to his taxi.

I blink at Mum, feeling like the most selfish person on earth. “Sorry, Mum,” I murmur. “And don't worry, we'll find Gran.”

“I hope so.” She tries to muster a smile, but instead of her mouth turning up at the corners, it stays pretty much dead straight. “C'mon, sweetheart, let's go.”

And so we set off, heading for Norelli's first to ask if anyone's seen Gran walking past. No luck there. The three of us make for the park, where there's only an old lady with her dog. She hasn't seen Gran wandering about, either. “Could you keep a lookout for her?” Mum asks, looking really stressed now. “She's wearing a pink flowery dress and, er, a sort of rusty-coloured cardie, I think…”

“Of course I will,” the lady says kindly.

“
Someone
will have seen her,” Aunty Claire tries to reassure Mum.

Next we make for my school and check all the grounds, including behind the canteen where CJ and her pack like to hang out, and the garden we planted last year.

“I'll try Kyle,” Mum says. “Maybe he could have a look around the streets near Jude and Danny's house.” She puts her phone to her ear, sighing loudly, then stuffs it back into her jeans pocket. “Does that boy
ever
answer his phone? What's the point in him having it if he never bloody switches it on?”

It's so unlike her to snap like that. “They've probably started playing,” I say, squeezing her hand. “He won't hear it above his drums.”

I think of them all in the garage at Danny and Jude's. I imagine Zoe making her way there right now, all excited. Maybe she's even arrived and is wondering where I am. I wish I could let her know what's happened, but in all the panic I realize I've left my phone at home. Still, Zoe will understand if I'm a bit late. Right now, all I want is for Gran to be safely back home.

Chapter twenty-three

All the way there, Matty chatters on. Morbid stuff, mainly, about how long I think Fanta's going to live. Mum's warned him that fairground fish don't tend to survive long, but he read about one that's sixteen years old and is still alive now. I'm only half listening as my head is full of other stuff, like: I'm about to walk into Danny and Jude's garage with everyone there. Like Ben. With my little brother hanging about, rattling on about his fish. And me and Layla will sing, and Ben will decide whether we're good enough. It's bound to be him who makes the decision. He seems to decide everything around here. Like having just
his
name and
his
photo on the poster. The kind of person who makes things happen, Mum said. Well, she was right about that.

We're outside Danny and Jude's house now and I can already hear Kyle playing the drums. He doesn't make a big thing about it, but it sounds effortless, the way he plays. The main garage door is shut. I pause at the side door with Matty tugging at my arm, saying, “Zoe? Are we going in or not?”

“In a minute,” I say, conscious of my heart beating way faster than normal. As fast as Kyle's drumbeat in fact.
Bang-bang-bang
, like it's about to burst out of my chest.
Ben's
in there. I'd give anything to turn on my heels and run – but I can't let Layla down. She's probably in there already. That thought makes me feel slightly better as I push open the door and walk in.

It's only just gone two o'clock and the garage is already milling with people. There's Ben, who's too busy tuning his guitar to pay attention to anyone, and Danny … and Jude, which is a surprise – I'd imagined he'd be steering clear, seeing as he's left the band. No Layla, though. I clear my throat, wondering where to stand and what to do with myself, which is stupid really as I know every single person here.

There's CJ, with her friends, all cackling away in the corner. Boxes of tools and stacks of plant pots are piled up on both sides, and Kyle's drum kit has been set up. When he spots me, his face breaks into a grin, which makes my nervousness fade a little. I'll feel better when Layla's here. Surely she'll be here any minute. Everyone's chatting away, not looking remotely scared. “I sing all the time,” CJ is boasting to Kyle.

“Yeah?” he sniggers. “Like, where?”

“In the shower,” she retorts.

“Wait till you hear her,” Anja exclaims. She paws at CJ's arm in adoration. “They're gonna
die
when you start singing…”

“Die of pain, probably,” Jude mutters by my side. I smile, trying to look relaxed, like this is no big deal at all.

“Didn't expect you to be here today,” I say.

“Yeah, well, there's no hard feelings.” He glances towards the door. “Isn't Layla coming?”

I nod. “She's supposed to be. Not sure what's happened to her.” His gaze flickers towards the door again, and when he realizes I'm watching, he blushes and hurries away to perch on a scruffy old workbench.

Ben starts to strum his guitar and hum a melody.
Still
no sign of Layla. Would it really be so awful to grab Matty by the hand and creep away? I glance over to where he's tapping away at Kyle's cymbals. Amazingly, Kyle doesn't seem to mind.

We could leave. I could call him over, whisper that I'll buy him sweets, and no one would notice or care.

The door flies open. A tall, skinny girl with flaming red hair has marched in, wearing a tight red T-shirt, tiny denim hot pants and huge platform sandals with cork soles that clip-clop as she walks. “Annalise!” I gasp.

“What happened to your hair?” Matty yells.

She casts us a quick, irritated glance and scans the garage for someone important enough to talk to. Everyone's fallen silent. Danny's mouth has dropped open in shock. “When do the auditions start?” she asks.

“Er, pretty soon,” Kyle says, looking flustered. I'm transfixed by her hair: dyed bright tangerine and piled up on top of her head, so stiff it looks like it'd crack if you tapped it. She gives Kyle a chilly smile, then makes straight for Ben.

“You're the one who's organizing this,” she announces. “I've seen your picture everywhere.”

“Er, yeah.” He looks up at the creature towering above him.

“Can I sing then?” Annalise asks, like we've all been waiting for her to arrive.

“Of course you can.” His mouth is suspiciously straight, and I wonder if he's trying not to laugh.

“So where's the mic?” She looks around, and I pull out my phone and call Layla, ready to tell her to get here
right now
– she won't want to miss this. But it just goes to voicemail, and no one picks up her house phone, either.

“Can you wait just a minute?” Danny asks, plugging cables into the amp. I try to look straight ahead but my eyes keep drifting back to the door, hoping Layla's about to step through. Jessie Hanley, who sang a solo at our last school concert, has arrived, along with Abby North, who all the boys like, though she's too cool to even bother with them. Annalise glances at me and scowls. More girls wander in, chatting excitedly and sneaking glances at Ben.

“OK, everyone.” Ben has put his guitar in its stand and is addressing the crowd, as if he does this kind of thing all the time. “If you want to audition, come up and give your name to Kyle, OK?”

“How many singers are you choosing?” Annalise calls out.

Ben raises a brow. “This isn't one of those awful talent contests. As long as you're confident and can hold a tune, then you can sing at the concert.”

As long as you're confident
,
like that's no big deal. My insides are swirling like a washing machine now, and even though Kyle keeps giving me
it'll-be-OK
glances, it's hard to believe that it will. I shuffle up to Ben and he writes down my name on his list.

“Right,” Ben calls out, “we're ready.” Everyone falls silent. “Jessie first, please,” he says, and she strides confidently towards the mic. Her long, straight golden hair is actually shining, as if illuminated from the inside.

CJ leans back against a rusty lawnmower, trying to look cool. I'm wondering now if she's really here to audition seriously, or just wants to shake things up. I check the door again … still no Layla, although a few more girls from school have drifted into the garage.

Layla's now almost half an hour late. I glance around the garage, at all the girls, and realize they're all staring at Ben. It doesn't look like any boys are going to audition today. It's just girls, girls, girls – all desperate to impress him, to be the one…

Across the garage, Kyle flashes a wide, wide grin.

Jessie starts to sing. She's picked a ballad, and her voice carries it brilliantly, with only the odd wobbly note when it goes a bit too high for her.

“Pretty good, isn't she?” I jump and realize that Ben's right next to me.

“Yeah,” I whisper back.

“You will be too.” He smiles encouragingly, holding my gaze for just a beat too long. Is he flirting, or is this the way he always acts around girls? “Er, is it OK if I have your number?” he asks.

For a moment, I'm stunned. “Sure,” I mumble, taking his phone from him to type it in. I feel dazed. Normally I'd be thrilled by the attention, but right now it feels a bit too much. And he asked for Layla's number too. What's going on? I edge away as Jessie finishes her song to enthusiastic applause.

“That was fantastic,” I say as she glides past me.

“Thanks!” She smiles broadly as Abby steps up to the mic. She's not as confident – you can hear the nerves in her voice – but she keeps catching Ben's eye, and he smiles encouragingly and gradually her courage builds. Everyone claps as, looking relieved that it's over, she hurries back to Jessie.

More girls sing. No one is awful, even the ones who start off with trembling hands, or keep licking their dry lips, or put their mouths too close to the mic so it makes a big
pfff
noise. There's a burst of applause after each performance, until Ben steps forward and says, “OK, one last song…” And for a horrible moment I think he means the last of the day, and that he doesn't want me to sing at all, which might be a blessing after all. But he carries on: “Then we'll take a break from the auditions and I'll play a couple of my songs before we finish with the final try-outs. So don't worry – everyone who wants to sing will get the chance today.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Kyle's eye again as he chats to Jude. Like me, Jude keeps checking the door. Where
is
Layla? I call both her mobile and landline again – no answer – and by the time I've shoved my phone back into my pocket, Annalise is standing in the middle of the garage, clutching the microphone.

Her first note is so loud, someone actually gasps. I've never heard anything like it. She is swaying and throwing her head back dramatically as she blasts out a song I don't recognize. It swoops down too low for her voice, then screeches so high I can actually see people wincing, including Ben – although Annalise doesn't notice as her eyes are screwed up tight. She finishes with a flourish.

“Wow,” Ben says, taking the mic from her. “Thanks, er…”

“Annalise,” she says with a big, scary grin.

“Right.”

“So, am I in the concert or not?”

He looks around nervously. “Er, we're deciding all that at the end – once everyone's performed.”

“Can I go next?” CJ calls out.

“After the break,” Ben says, pulling his guitar strap over his head and murmuring something to Kyle and Danny. They launch into a song too quickly, and Kyle misses the first beat – but they get it together as Ben's voice rings out. He sounds great, and the song is incredibly catchy, like something you'd hear on the radio. I daren't look at Jude. There's a cheer as the song ends, then they launch straight into another, which has everyone clapping like mad. Poor Jude. They never did anything like this when he was in the band.

They've barely finished when CJ stomps towards Ben and says, “Is it time for more auditions now?” She rakes back her roughly chopped fair hair and smiles flirtatiously.

“OK,” he says, laughing, actually looking impressed by her determination.

“Right.” She grabs the mic, and a strange thing happens. Her face, which is usually so brittle and mean, seems to soften. Her eyes shine and a respectful hush falls over the garage. She opens her mouth.

And she's
amazing
. Every single person is transfixed. She's better than Jessie – better, even, than Ben. I've stopped glancing round for Layla at the garage door, and everyone seems to have forgotten about Annalise, who's sulking in a dark corner. I spot Matty, leaning against an old barrel next to Jude, and even he looks mesmerized.

Then a thought hits me: I can't sing now. It's not just that Layla hasn't turned up. It's because whatever I do will sound terrible compared to CJ's incredible voice.

All that rehearsing, for nothing.

“Zoe?” With a start, I realize everyone's staring at me. “Zoe,” Ben says, “you do still want to sing, don't you?”

No!
Of course I don't. I'd rather slice off my own hand with those rusty old garden shears sitting on the shelf…

“C'mon, Zo,” Matty yells, turning to Kyle with a grin. “My sister's a
great
singer.”

“Yeah, I know she is,” Kyle says, throwing me an encouraging smile.

I clear my throat, still rooted to the spot. “I'd, er, rather wait till Layla shows up. We're doing it together,” I add, realizing how lame that sounds, after every other girl has sung by herself.

Ben turns to Kyle. “D'you know where she is?”

Kyle frowns and shakes his head.

“Sorry,” Ben says, “but we need to get going. She's already over an hour late…”

I nod miserably.

“Yeah, and we want to find out who's been chosen,” snaps Annalise, just as her mobile rings in her pocket. “Daddy?” she says, flushing red as she answers it. “Erm, can I call you back? I'm just out with the children… Yes, Daddy, everything's fine.” That weird posh voice again. She jams her phone back in her pocket and fixes on a determined glare.

“Look,” Ben says, turning towards her, “I'm really sorry but I think I should tell you now – we don't think your, er, vocal style quite fits with what we're trying to do.”

“What d'you mean?” she snaps. “It's just a stupid little concert, isn't it?”

She scans the room and it suddenly seems to dawn on her. “Am I the only one who's not gonna be chosen?” she blasts out.

“Yeah,” Matty sniggers. “You're rubbish, Annalise!”

She swings round to face him, cheeks blazing with fury. “What are you doing here anyway? This has got nothing to do with you—”