Hazel Wood Girl (8 page)

Read Hazel Wood Girl Online

Authors: Judy May

We all showed up at rehearsal with the same idea that there is something hidden in the barn, something valuable that the Grangers didn’t want us to lay our hands on. Em-J was certain it must be jewels, Christophe reckoned old, gold coins, and Beau thought maybe a Viking’s head. I hoped Beau was wrong as we got down on our hands and knees and up on chairs and searched every inch of the big, stone barn inside and out. After an hour we gave up and felt a bit silly.

Still, it is all a bit strange, Mrs Granger in the barn, and the stuff still disappearing from around the farm. Today some wool was missing from one of the sheep. It looks pretty funny now with a big bit 
hacked out of it. Dad isn’t happy because in a couple of days when the shearers come he won’t get a good price for that sheep’s fleece.

Sammy-boy spent the morning pestering Christophe to bring him camping, and to stop him interrupting the rehearsal he agreed. Then Beau amazed us all by suggesting they camp just outside the stone barn to see if anyone comes there at after dark. So they are setting up the tent there tonight. At first Sammy was disappointed that his hero, Beau, wasn’t included so now all three of them will be there. Em-J suggested that the next time we should
all
go. Now that would be wild, but I can’t see her parents or mine agreeing to it. Or Christophe, come to that.

I spent the afternoon on the phone to get chairs. Most people will want to stand, but I think we need fifty chairs for around the sides. The hotel said they need theirs, but there’s still a chance that the café might let us have twenty.

I didn’t go to the evening rehearsal because I’m starting to feel like a bit of a spare. There’s no reason for me to be there and I don’t want the others to start to wonder why I’m hanging around instead of getting on with my production jobs.

I felt another twinge of ‘left-outness’ just now, but 
pushed it away. I’m not letting myself feel bad any more.

LATER

Instead of getting sad, I wrote a song, my first proper one apart from the ones I would make up in the car when I was little and they’d last hours and be about the postman and the goldfish. This one is all about feeling locked into a different world from everyone else. It’s called ‘Whisper Me A Morning’, and the chorus is about hearing someone from another world whispering secrets to me in the early morning as the sun rises and telling me that everything is going to be alright.

Although it was dark already, I just nipped down to the Hazel Wood and was disappointed to find my sneakers still hanging there, but as I got closer I realised that they were all decorated. I love them
so
much.

Even if I can’t have Christophe, at least I can have The Watcher part of him.

I dressed up really rock-chick and wore my newly-pimped sneakers. The boys were just packing away the tent, and Em-J and I brought them over breakfast from our house. I thought I caught Christophe smiling when he saw me wearing the sneakers, but as usual we said nothing about it.

While we were setting up and the boys were demolishing the pile of cranberry muffins, Em-J said that this girl she knows called Barbara Montague phoned last night. I’m sure I went grey at the mention of her, because my hands started to sweat 
and my heart was thumping. She said,

‘Barbara is getting back from her holidays just before the gig and wants to help out with singing some backing vocals, and maybe playing some percussion.’

I suddenly felt
really
angry – I’d done so much and here was Barbara thinking she could just waltz back here and be on stage in front of the audience that
I
will have spent hours getting in the door! I never felt so angry in my life as I did right then.

Just at that point, Beau and Christophe started agreeing that they really needed another backing singer and asked Em-J if Barbara was a good singer and how soon before the gig would she be back. That was it! It felt like a voice came from somewhere else, but it was really my voice, saying,

‘ME!
I
can sing!’

Then they were all looking at me, and I knew I had to start singing right away or else I never would. The only song I could think of was ‘Whisper Me A Morning’, the one I wrote last night, so I closed my eyes to sing it, and when I opened them at the end of the song, the others were all just staring at me, smiling. Smiling in a cool way, not in a sympathetic way or the way you smile at babies or at bad jokes.

Then Em-J looked back at her notes and said, 

‘Thank God for that, I can’t stand Barbara! OK, super-chick, you sing the lead on that one and we’ll work out the chords and that tomorrow, and you can sing these two that Christophe finds it hard to do the vocal and play guitar on, and then you can sing this one instead of me because you are an angel and a star, and I’ll teach you the backing vocals for the rest.’

The others nodded and that was it, that’s how I got into the band. I think I caught them winking at each other but I can’t be certain. Anyway, no one has mentioned Barbara since.

After the rehearsal Beau said,

‘Great voice,’ and Christophe even gave me a nod.

Then Em-J said to him,

‘Hey, French boy, don’t forget to bring spare strings tomorrow!’

‘Are you French?’ was what found its way out of my mouth.

Christophe looked puzzled and said,

‘Yes, I know Hooper isn’t a French name, but my dad’s French and I grew up in Paris until I was eight. In fact I only learned to speak English after that.’

Which is the most he has said to me out loud ever.

It suddenly made sense, Christophe is the French for Christopher. I thought maybe he had just lopped 
off the ‘r’ like the way Emma-Jo became Em-J.

It’s funny how all the interesting stuff happens just as you are going home and then you get to torture yourself thinking about it, and not about to find out what you want to know. I bet he still speaks French fluently.

I am trying really hard not to fancy him for three reasons:

1 Mindy is coming back and she’ll want him.

2 All the girls will fall for him at the gig.

3 His mother told me he sees me as a sister.

4 He doesn’t bother to look at me or talk to me.

5 I am tired of making a fool of my self.

6 Why would he go for me anyway, I never say anything funny like Em-J or Mindy?

OK, so that’s actually six, but that goes to prove it even more.

They have agreed to lend me the chairs from the school thanks to Liza making a phone call for me. People are brilliant.

I
so
love that I am now singing in Farmer. I love it! I can’t believe it!

Things are getting even better! I want to just write about the adventure bit, but I’ll tell the whole day just so I have all of it here in case I ever want to read back over and remember it in detail.

Everyone was really tired last night so we agreed to sleep in and not have a rehearsal until the evening. In the afternoon I sent the press releases and went into town to buy tape, string and pins for the posters, which Em-J says that Christophe says will be ready in a couple of days. Only TEN DAYS TO GO, which is good because it makes us work hard and it’s not 
impossible. Also it means I don’t have quite enough time to have a nervous breakdown.

Tonight’s rehearsal dragged a bit, because we have to rearrange everything now that I’m singing. I’m not in the least bit shy about singing with them, which is a surprise, it feels so natural. Singing is much easier than talking! We know we’re getting there, it’s just a bit slow and you can’t belt it out. We decided to take a break and went over to our kitchen which, thank God, was empty because they were all exhausted from the shearing day.

We sat in the little area in front of the kitchen garden with our food and juice, and I mentioned all the stuff going missing and the big clump taken out of the poor sheep.

Christophe then suddenly said,

‘Oh my God! I can’t believe I forgot this! And he almost choked in his hurry to tell us.

‘When me, Beau and Sammy-boy were camping out the other night I was half-awake and half-asleep and heard people shuffling around. You know when you’re really groggy and can’t tell what’s real or what isn’t? Well, I heard a man saying something about “Looking harder”, and “We’ve got to find them”. I thought it was your dad or Adam, but now when I think about it, the voices don’t match. Then I must 
have fallen asleep again, I was so tired. I
completely
forgot until just now!’

Beau couldn’t believe that he had slept through it, but we could. (Beau is always the last to arrive at morning rehearsals.)

Em-J is action girl so she wanted to do something immediately. We agreed to finish our juice and sandwiches and then to go and snoop around the Egg Farm. All of us were convinced that the Grangers were up to something and that the answer to the stuff going missing must lie with them. The idea of going to the Egg Farm didn’t really appeal to me, but when you’re with a group of people, sometimes it’s like they move into your head and you become more like them. That’s why it’s so important to have great friends, you don’t want crappy people in your head or you end up doing crappy things!

And that’s how we ended up in the lane going up to the Granger’s house on the Egg Farm. It was still quite bright and I had no intention whatsoever of running into the Grangers and said so. More than once. Luckily Em-J was ready with a plan.

She said,

‘OK troops, if Christophe and Poppy sneak around that big shed thing and try to see into the house, then I’ll create a diversion.’ 

‘What will I do?’ asked Beau.

‘You are the diversion I’m about to create,’ she explained.

Before I could even think, Christophe had grabbed my hand and was leading me around the back of the chicken shed thing. That was the bit that totally scrambled my head. I mean. He doesn’t even talk to me and then suddenly he’s holding my hand!!??? I was so focused on having my hand held, there was no space left in my head to think about the fact that we were trespassing on the Egg Farm and might well get eaten alive by a Granger.

Then suddenly it was like he realised too, and quickly dropped my hand and hurried behind the shed. Crouched there we could hear nothing, so we inched closer to the edge and Christophe peered around the corner (with me still freaking in a good way about the hand-holding thing).

He went all serious and whispered,

‘I can see them in their kitchen. The woman’s cooking and the man’s washing a cup. We need to get closer.’

‘Won’t they be able to see us?’ I asked nervously.

‘When our good and feisty leader gets the distraction together we can run for the boat they’ve stored right by the open window. It looks like we 
might be able to get under the tarpaulin.’

‘Christophe, there’s nothing bigger than a duck pond for miles. Why do they have a boat?’

‘No idea.’

‘What will we do once we get in the boat?’

‘No idea.’

‘Just so long as we’re clear then.’

With that, we heard Em-J wailing and we both peeped around the corner this time.

Beau was half-carrying her and she was hopping along, leaning into him, pretending to cry really hard and clutching her leg.

Both of the Grangers ran out to the front of the house and we took our chance and ran over to the boat and climbed in, pulling the blue tarpaulin back over the top, covering us from sight. We could just about hear Beau asking the Grangers for a lift into town because his girlfriend had twisted her ankle. Mr Granger said they weren’t a charity and shooed them away while Mrs Granger yelled after them that it was their own fault for not being at home where they should be. On the bright side, the Grangers don’t have kids, but I do feel sorry for the chickens.

Christophe and I were sitting opposite each other on these wooden benches moulded into the boat, bent over so our heads wouldn’t touch the tarpaulin 
and give us away. It was so dark under there that I could only just make out his face. I kept thinking about the fact that we had just had a real-live-actual conversation and that we were now stuck in a boat together in the dark.

For ages we could hear the Grangers complaining about Beau and Em-J, and young people, and all the people in the world. Then, for a while they were just talking about their dinner and the Egg Farm, and my back was getting sore so I carefully moved and sat on the floor of the boat. Christophe did the same and it meant that our faces were now only a few inches from each other and I could hear him breathing, but still couldn’t see.

After ages and ages the Grangers started to say what we were there to hear. It went kind of like this –

Mr Granger: ‘Do you think they know anything?’

Mrs Granger: ‘How could they, they’re kids. Not the brightest either.’

Mr Granger: ‘They might have found the second set of papers, all that time they’re spending in that barn.’

Mrs Granger: ‘I’m starting to think there was only the one set, and we got them in the fire. I think we’re safe and we’re only getting ourselves into a flap looking for a second set that might not ever be found. It’s years since your brother was told about them.’ 

Mr Granger: ‘Maybe they’re hidden somewhere else on that farm. Well, whatever happens, that soft city family won’t get their hands on what should be ours!’

Christophe gripped my arm hard when they said that about the fire; did that mean
the Granger’s
had started the town hall fire? But they could have killed people, why would they
do
that?

Christophe made a question mark on my leg with his finger and I leaned in closer and whispered back,

‘I don’t know.’

Then they were talking about food and prices of eggs and things for a few more minutes before Mr Granger went out to check the barns.

Christophe whispered,

‘We should stay here for a while.’

I know being close together in the dark sounds all romantic (even if the guy isn’t into you), but I was mostly worried that my stomach would start to make noises so soon after eating the sandwiches and I was dying to get out and back home. It was one of those times that seems better when you look back on it. Anyway, I now have to face the fact that I have a more massive crush on him than ever, and I have to work really hard at not making a fool of myself.

Just when I started to get used to being there, we heard more footsteps, but it was Beau and Em-J who 
lifted the tarpaulin cover and helped us out. We crept around the back of the chicken shed and then ran back across the road and past the stone barn all the way to my house.

We all agreed that it was obvious from what they said that the Grangers had started the fire in the town hall. I wanted to call the police, but Em-J pointed out that they’d find out that we’d been trespassing on the Grangers’ land, and Christophe added that we had no proof yet. Beau was so furious that we had to stop him going back over, he looked like he might go for Mr Granger if he saw him again. We were just in shock.

While we waited for Em-J’s dad to play chauffeur, we talked over all the angles for ages, then Christophe summed it up,

‘OK, so there was two sets of papers, probably to do with this farm or the stone barn or something. The first set of papers got destroyed in the fire and the second set might be anywhere.’

We agreed that we don’t have enough information to do anything about it, but we’ll keep an eye out and maybe after the gig we can search the farm. It’s not like they can do anything to the farm in the meantime.

All that excitement had me distracted from the fact 
that I am going to have to sing in front of all those people and I don’t think I can do it.

Only the idea that Barbara would take my place has stopped me from backing out.

HELP! I now know that the French for ‘Help!’ is ‘
Au Secour
’! And may I also add, ‘
Mon Dieu
!’ and ‘
Merde
!’

It is good that Christophe and I now talk (even if he is not sitting up writing about
me
in a diary!) I am starting to think that maybe … just maybe …

Never mind.

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