Violet Ink (7 page)

‘Would you like to sit down while you wait?' I ask him quickly, trying to steer him towards the living room, but he doesn't move.

‘No thanks,' he says.

We stand in silence for a bit, me shifting from foot to foot. This is really awkward and I'm not sure what to do. It's not like this when Finn comes over. I never have to think about what to say to him, it just happens. I can feel myself starting to blush and know that I have approximately two seconds before my face is bright red and giving off enough heat to fry a sausage. I need to break the silence – start up a conversation.

I think back to what Alex has told me about boys. Occasionally, after a night out, she'll come into my room and sit on my bed, imparting some bits of wisdom, and I try to file them away in my mind for a time when they'll be useful. This is exactly that time and thankfully a helpful nugget pops into my brain. Alex says that boys are only good at talking about things that they like doing. Charlie is standing here, in our front hall, and if I want to engage him in a bit of casual chit-chat then I need to ask him about something he's interested in.

‘So,' I say, trying to sound relaxed, ‘scored any goals recently?'

Charlie looks at me in surprise, but before I can go any redder I hear Alex coming down the stairs. She isn't clomping down in her huge boots, making
the photographs on the wall rattle until they nearly fall off. Neither is she yelling at the top of her voice as if everyone else is hard of hearing. She's not doing any of the things that she normally does when she's leaving the house. Instead, she's tottering down each step in a pair of sparkly silver shoes with the highest heel I've ever seen. And she's wearing a dress. Without jeans underneath or a massive chunky cardigan on top. She almost looks ladylike and I have to clasp my hand over my mouth to muffle the gasp that's threatening to come out. Luckily, Charlie isn't looking at me. He can't take his eyes off Alex and I don't blame him. She looks utterly gorgeous.

I've never seen Alex wear the colour silver before and I think about what it means. Silver stands for glamour and mystery and feminine strength – which I think is a bit like girl power. I like collecting phrases that are linked to colours, but the only one I can think of right now is ‘every cloud has a silver lining', which means that even when something bad happens, there'll be something good in there too. I don't know how that's connected to Alex choosing silver high heels.

Mum comes out from the kitchen and says hello to Charlie. He manages to stop drooling
over Alex for long enough to speak to Mum, but I catch a steely glint in Mum's eye when she's looking at him, as if she knows exactly what he's thinking.

‘Back by eleven,' Mum tells Alex.

‘No problem,' Alex replies sweetly, gazing at Charlie like he's her Romeo.

Charlie holds out his hand and Alex takes it and they walk down the hall. I scamper ahead of them and open the door, and they glide past me and down the garden path, neither of them giving me or Mum another glance. I watch them go and then close the door, turning to see Mum looking out of the living room window. I go and stand next to her and together we watch Charlie open his car door and help Alex into the passenger seat.

‘She didn't get mad when you told her to be home on time,' I tell Mum. ‘That's good.'

‘Hmmm,' she says, still watching until the car pulls away from the kerb. I can tell by her voice that she's not happy. I'm not sure why, but my heart is beating a bit too fast and my skin feels all shivery. I consult my mood ring and it's green. Green for jealousy. Is that why I'm feeling like this – because Alex has got someone who looks at her like she's the most special person on earth?
But as I twiddle my ring it changes colour and suddenly it's red again. Danger. I wonder if it was Charlie that Alex was talking to on the phone the other day, the day when she sent Finn away. My mood ring went red that day too.

I might only be in Year 7 and have never had a boyfriend and know nothing about any of this stuff, but there's definitely something dangerous about Alex and Charlie. And I think it's the way that they looked at each other as if nobody else existed. As if the only thing that made any sense was
them
. I remember that silver stands for something else too: loneliness, like when Betty the cat died. I think about what Alex told me about star-crossed lovers being doomed, that they could only bring bad luck to each other. And I really, really wish that Alex hadn't gone out with Charlie tonight.

It's been six weeks since Alex went on her first date with Charlie. Six weeks since everything started to feel a bit different. I can't quite work out
how
things have changed, but my mood ring is orange all the time, which proves that there's something going on. According to my mood-ring guide, orange indicates ‘mixed emotions'. That definitely describes Alex's mood at the moment. One minute she's the normal Alex – loud, bossy, impossible to ignore – and then it's like she's had a personality transplant and the next minute she's quiet and moody, staring out of the window and twiddling her hair. Alex can't
stand
hair-twiddlers; she always says they do it because they think it makes them look cute, but I don't think she even realizes she's doing it.

Then, when it's nearly time for her to meet
Charlie (which she's doing A LOT), she locks herself in the bathroom and when she comes out she doesn't look anything like Alex. She's started straightening her hair when before it was always twisted up in a mad pile on top of her head and held together with whatever she could find, like pencils or chopsticks. The other evening I'm sure I spotted streaks of glitter across her cheeks. Alex HATES girly, sparkly stuff. It's all incredibly confusing.

I haven't managed to have a proper conversation with Charlie yet. He's really good at standing in our hallway and he's always polite to Mum, but I don't think he's very good at making small talk. It makes me wonder what he and Alex chat about when they're together because Alex loves talking. If talking was an Olympic sport then she'd bring home the gold medal every time. That's one of the reasons she spends so much time with Finn: they talk and talk, and half the time I haven't got a clue what they're on about and I get bored with listening. I would've thought they'd get fed up with talking so much and that their mouths would ache, but they never stop. So I'm really not sure how Alex is managing to cope with Strong-but-Silent Charlie. He seriously never seems to have
anything to say. I suppose he might be a really good listener though. Alex would like that.

She's not seeing Charlie tonight. Mum is out at Granny and Grandpa's having a crisis meeting because Grandpa wandered off again today – Mum says he's getting worse. Tonight it's band practice and they're all meeting at our house so Alex can babysit me. I HATE that word. I've been trying for ages to get Mum and Alex to stop using it. It makes me feel utterly pathetic, like I'm a little child who can't look after herself. I don't need anybody to look after me, and I've told Mum that time and time again, but every time I mention it she just says, ‘Remember the night of the tapping tree?'

It's so unfair. I'm going to be judged for the rest of my life because of one stupid mistake. And it was a completely easy mistake to make too – anyone else would have done what I did.

Mum was going to be late home because she had a meeting at school and Alex was supposed to be going to the cinema with Sara. Mum asked Alex to cancel her plans so she could stay at home with me, but Alex moaned and complained so much that I begged Mum to let me stay at home on my own. I didn't want Alex to hate me for spoiling her
evening. Miraculously, Mum agreed and everything was fine until it got dark and I heard someone knocking on the window. I might have freaked out a
tiny
bit, but I tried to be brave and I stood by the window and shouted out to ask who was there. The tapping carried on and then I thought I heard someone groaning and it sounded menacing, full of threat and death.

My mind was totally full of murderers and dead bodies and ‘me-next' thoughts so I did what any reasonable person would do. I phoned 999. I might have been crying a little bit when I spoke to the operator (not howling hysterically, which is what Alex says when she retells the story) and before I knew what was going on there were two police cars screeching on to our drive, followed by an ambulance. The flashing lights and screaming sirens alerted Finn's mum and she rang Mum's mobile before dashing across the road in her slippers.

It turns out that I might
possibly
have mentioned dead bodies and murderous groans when the nice lady operator was trying to calm me down, and apparently that moves you to the top of the priority list. Mum arrived home and nearly crashed into one of the police cars because she was driving at
about eighty miles an hour. (She was lucky not to end up with a speeding ticket because we live on a residential street and the limit is thirty miles an hour.)

Unfortunately for me, Alex turned up just as the police were doing a search of our flower beds. She raced into the living room where Mum was cuddling me and started crying, saying that she'd never leave me alone again, and she was sorry that she'd gone to the cinema instead of staying with me and that the film was rubbish anyway. I started to feel all good and relaxed until, suddenly, I heard it again. I sat bolt upright and screamed.

‘There it is!' I yelled. ‘That's the noise I heard. He's still out there!'

The police officer who was standing by the window pulled the curtains apart and we all looked out. I had my hands in front of my face, peeking through my fingers – which, as it turned out was not necessary, as the only thing out there was a branch from the apple tree on our front lawn, blowing in the wind and brushing against the window.

‘That was the noise you heard?' asked the police officer.

I nodded and burrowed my head in Mum's
armpit so that nobody could see my very red face. Mum and the police officer muttered a few words to each other and then he went outside to call off the dogs (not literally, they hadn't actually got the dogs in by then, thank goodness). Alex stopped sobbing very abruptly and said that I was an idiot, which I felt was a bit harsh because the tapping had sounded very scary and how was I supposed to know that it was a very windy night? The ambulance left and then the police all got into their cars, but not before one of them had suggested to Mum that I shouldn't be left home alone again for a while. Possibly until I'm thirty-five. Well, he probably didn't say that, but Alex did and, since that night, Mum has NEVER left me on my own at night, not for one single second.

So tonight band practice is in our living room. Stefan arrived earlier, his dad helping him drag his drum kit out of the car and into the house. I tried to keep out of their way, but everywhere I went ended up being where they needed to go. I said sorry to Stefan's dad, but he just smiled at me and said something that I didn't understand. Stefan's parents moved here from Poland when Stefan was a baby. His mum speaks pretty amazing English, but his dad doesn't speak a word. Stefan told me
once that his dad can read English and understands everything that you say to him – he just can't speak it. It doesn't seem to bother him though and he's always smiling. I think he's really proud of Stefan because he helps him take his drums everywhere and he never seems to get cross or grumpy about it.

I'm sitting in the kitchen and trying to finish my homework because once they start practising I'll never get anything done. On the Rocks is a very loud band. I can hear that Dylan has arrived because the floor has started vibrating with the buzz coming from his bass guitar and I put my head nearer to the page, desperately finishing the last part of my story before it's too loud to think straight.

I'm just closing my book when Finn dashes in through the back door, his guitar slung across his back.

‘Coming in to listen, Izzy?' he asks me, ruffling my hair as he speeds past. I pretend to scowl at him and press my hands down on my head, trying to straighten my hair.

‘Maybe,' I tease, but I'm already getting up from the table. I love it when the band rehearses at our house. Going into the living room, I head towards my favourite spot. Curling up on the armchair,
surrounded by guitar cases and amplifiers and leads, I watch as Finn quickly tunes his guitar and Stefan adjusts his drum stool until he's found a position that he likes. Dylan stands to one side, plucking out a steady rhythm and looking into the distance. Dylan is really shy, but you'd never know that when he starts playing – he totally comes to life when he's got his guitar in his hands. I have a secret wish that one day, when I'm good enough, I'll get an electric violin and Alex will let me join On the Rocks. I think about this every time I do violin practice and it makes me work extra hard.

Then Alex steps up to the microphone that's standing in the middle of the room. She nods at Stefan and he hits his drumsticks together four times before they all launch into their first song. On the Rocks perform covers of other songs and some of their own. This is a cover song that I know really well and I find myself tapping along to the beat as Alex starts to sing.

Alex is exactly the sort of person who should be on
Britain's Got Talent
. If I'm totally honest, I'm not sure that she's the best singer in the whole world, but something happens to her when she starts singing and it means that you literally cannot take your eyes off her. She can't stay still and the
way she moves, as if she's feeling every single part of the music flowing through her, makes you believe that she could probably do anything.

They've done the first verse and, as they move into the chorus, Finn steps up to the microphone. He sings the backing vocals next to Alex and their voices dip and dive round the melody so perfectly that suddenly my arms are cold and I can feel goosebumps. Alex glances at Finn and sings the lyrics to him and, as she sings the words about love and friendship and hope, I see Finn gaze at her as if she's his entire world. And then Alex stops singing and spins round to glare at Stefan.

‘What are you
doing
?' she shouts at him and everything crashes to a halt. Stefan shrugs at Alex.

‘What are you on about? Why did you stop?'

Alex sighs – a huge over-the-top sigh that blows all of the happy feelings right out of the room.

‘I stopped because you played it wrong. We agreed that you'd lose that drum fill at the end of the chorus and go straight into the second verse.'

Stefan shrugs again, this time in the direction of Dylan who is suddenly busying himself with a guitar string.

‘I just thought I'd see how it sounded. Me and
Dylan practised something new last week and we thought we'd surprise you tonight – see what you thought.'

‘Well, I
thought
it sounded awful. Like you're trying to get all the attention.' Alex has got her hands on her hips and she's really cross now, her lips pressed tightly together and lines criss-crossing her forehead.

‘No chance of that with you about,' mutters Stefan.

‘WHAT DID YOU SAY?' yells Alex, and I shift uneasily in my armchair. This is not what band practice is meant to be like. Normally they play a few songs and then listen to any new stuff they've all been working on, and then they lounge about for ages, listening to music and eating crisps. The room feels heavy, as if something horrible is about to happen, and, sure enough, my mood ring has gone a murky colour.

‘Steady on, Alex,' says Finn, putting his hand on her arm, but she brushes him off and acts like he hasn't even spoken to her. She stands very still, glaring furiously at Stefan, not seeming to notice the energy that's fizzing about the room.

‘How dare you suggest that it's all about me!'
she screeches. ‘I am NOT always trying to get attention. I just want us to be good. IS THAT A CRIME?'

I am utterly transfixed by Alex. This is not like her at all. Not the shouting – that's exactly like her – but she doesn't normally shout in a properly angry way. Mostly when she shouts she's being funny or tantrummy. This doesn't feel like either of those. A movement in the corner catches my attention and I turn to see Dylan hurriedly packing his guitar into its case. Finn walks across to speak to him quietly and then Dylan picks up his guitar and amp and walks quickly out of the room without looking back. I don't think he likes confrontation. I've never once seen him have an argument with anyone.

Finn walks back towards Alex who's still standing in the middle of the room.

‘Look, Alex –' starts Stefan, but then he stops, his face registering surprise, before hurriedly turning away and starting to dismantle his kit. I wonder what he's seen and why he isn't shouting back at Alex for being in such a grouchy mood.

Finn reaches Alex, but she turns away from him before he can touch her, which means that she's facing me. Tears are running down her cheeks and, as I look, her face seems to crumple in on itself. It's
a very strange thing to watch. One moment her face is all screwed up in total anger and the next it's as if all her features have collapsed – as if she's too upset to keep her face in its normal position. I reach towards her, but she ignores me and, as she rushes from the room, I hear huge heart-breaking sobs gasping out from her mouth.