On the night of the Battle of the Bands I walked across the old stone bridge to the town of Henley-On-Thames and waited for Sam to pick me up and drive us to Reading. Carter had deemed it too risky for us to leave the school together in Richie’s boat, especially as I was meant to be seeing a movie alone. I tugged my favourite tartan jumper – my birthday present from Ellie – down over my hands, working my thumbs into the holes I’d torn in the wrists, as Sam’s beaten-up station wagon pulled in.
He turned up the Doors on the stereo and sang along as he drove. When we passed a grey concrete tower block on the outskirts of town, he pointed it out and said, ‘That’s where I live.’
The block looked bleak and depressing, and I was uncomfortably aware that in a month I’d be returning to my own decent-sized house. Sam caught the look on my face and smiled. ‘It’s small, but it’s got a great view.’
It started to rain as we reached Reading Hall, a fine wet mist that seeped horizontally into our clothes. We joined a line of black-clad kids that snaked down the stone steps while a security guy checked everyone’s bag for booze. I held out my wrist to be stamped and side-eyed the list: Lady Stardust was towards the bottom.
My nerves jangled as I cased the joint for Carter and Richie. A singer paced onstage while his friends clustered at the lip. I could tell from his pained expression that he knew just how much he was tanking. Sam seemed to know everyone and greeted them all. Tish waved at us from the back of the hall where she was hogging a bunch of chairs, dressed in Topshop’s finest. She squeezed Sam’s arm and cast a critical eye over my rain-speckled jumper, torn black jeans and muddy sneakers. I’d thought my outfit was just the right side of rock star. Apparently, she had other ideas.
‘Next time, I’ll dress you,’ she said firmly, pulling me in for a selfie. I tried for a smile, which just made me look like roadkill in headlights. ‘I’ve got these gorgeous red heels that’d probably fit you.’
Balancing a guitar in heels sounded like my personal brand of hell, but I had to admit Tish knew what she was doing when it came to make-up. Today she’d contoured so much that her face had changed shape.
‘How did you learn to do that?’ I asked.
‘Make-up tutorials,’ she said. ‘When I first started dating Sam I was really nervous about going out with an older guy, so I started getting into it. At the time I didn’t know he wouldn’t even notice.’
‘I just think you’re beautiful without all that stuff on your face,’ he said, and pulled her in for a kiss. I looked away to give them some privacy and saw Carter and Richie trading their coins for cans of soft drink and packets of chips at the makeshift bar. Carter leaned over the trestle table so the girl behind it could write something on the back of his hand. My stomach clenched, but I chalked it up to heightened nerves. Onstage, the Jack Johnson wannabe finally limped over the finish line and I clapped politely in the hope he might return the favour when it was our turn. Sam went backstage to set up our guitars, but I was glued to the competition.
‘We’re gonna wipe the floor with this guy.’ Carter came over to us, glowing with his tuning achievement. He had two cans of Sprite in each hand and was wearing a T-shirt that said ‘Calm down.’ He didn’t sit on the chair so much as glide over it like a Dali clock. He gave me one of the cans and took out a hip flask to pour a shot of vodka into his own. I averted my eyes so he wouldn’t offer me any.
And that was when I saw Verity.
She was across the room, chatting to Richie, wearing a bra top and high-waisted jeans, her hair straightened into a heavy blonde sheet down her back. Freya and Austin were there too, attached at the hip. I grabbed Carter’s arm and he looked at me in surprise.
‘Verity’s here,’ I said.
‘She can’t be.’
He shook off my hand just as she turned. Suddenly aware of how close we were sitting, I shuffled back on my seat and took a swig of my drink. She strode over to us with Austin, Richie and Freya trailing her.
Richie sniggered. ‘I was just telling Verity how I hope she’ll stick around to see my band play.’
‘Are you here to cheer Richie on too?’ she asked me, ignoring Carter.
I tried to catch Carter’s eye, but he was intently reading the ingredients of Sprite. Sam came over and handed me my guitar, but it was only as he passed Carter his Fender that Verity seemed to twig. Carter finally looked at her with a slightly sheepish grin.
‘I didn’t think you’d ever find out, babe.’
It was the ‘babe’ that seemed to tip her over the edge. All that time ignoring her in the dining hall and now she was ‘babe’? It was like he’d never met a girl before.
‘You’ve been lying to me for weeks!’
‘Not lying,’ he countered. ‘I mean … I wanted it to be a surprise?’
He really wasn’t doing himself any favours.
‘Was it not a lie when you said Ms Marney had found out about the band and shut it down?’ she demanded. ‘And every time you told me I was your first choice, was that not a lie?’ She turned to me. ‘He did say that,’ she added. ‘Just in case you were wondering.’
Every muscle I had was stretched tight. To my surprise, it was Sam who spoke. ‘You have the most classical talent,’ he said. ‘But we decided, as a band’ – he nudged Richie, who nodded swiftly – ‘that Liliana had the most unique voice. And when it came to stage presence, she eclipsed all of you.’ He sounded so calm and reasonable, like stage presence and talent were facts rather than a matter of opinion – so unassailably confident that they’d made the right call. A rush of gratitude smoothed out my pre-show nerves. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got a gig to play.’