Hazel Wood Girl (9 page)

I’m
SO
glad I didn’t make a fool of myself by letting anyone know that I fancied Christophe. Today in the greenhouse, reading and chatting with Sammy-boy, he was telling me that his mum is feeling better these days and is playing chess with him in the evenings. He then said that he liked the camping with his brother and Beau, and that he wishes his brother didn’t have a GIRLFRIEND, because that way he might be at home more.

I was really stunned and said,

‘What’s her name?’ in a
way
too casual way that 
would have been obvious to someone older.

He said it’s Helen, and that Christophe was trying to keep her a secret, but that they spent loads of time together, and he’d do all these drawings for her all the time and get away from work early to see her.

And there I was getting excited about my two pictures when he was a veritable picture factory, churning them out for every female in the district no doubt! This Helen girl has probably been able to wallpaper her whole room with his stuff. I tried to keep my voice sounding like I didn’t care and I said,

‘Have you ever seen her?’

‘No, but I know she’s beautiful and she lives in town because he sometimes gets changed to go out there.’

I was thinking then that maybe she was just a friend, or that maybe Sammy-boy had it wrong, but tonight Christophe was half-an-hour late for rehearsal and avoided answering when Em-J asked him where he was.

Just when I think I can’t be more of an idiot!

Well, anyway, I don’t care. I even hate him now for lying to us. I am concentrating now on being an amazing singer, then I can show all of them, Barbara, the others at school, Matthew Blondel, Christophe, ALL OF THEM.

I was really focused at that rehearsal, which meant we did less mucking about and more work. Even if we had to perform tomorrow we could do a good enough job. I told Em-J I was really tired and she said that she and Beau would wait for a lift from her dad at the Hoopers. She wants to come over tomorrow to hang out, which will be nice. I’m not sure if I’ll tell her about Christophe.

I was in such a bad mood this morning when Em-J called over that she forced it out of me. I was lying on my bed and she was sitting cross-legged on the rocking chair. I was so pissed off that I put the pillow over my face and screamed into it and held it there. She laughed and said,

‘Poppy, chick, you having a fit is more unexpected than Christophe not joking around or Beau being on time. So what’s up?’

I just shook my head and she said,

‘What’s the point of going through something on 
your own when you have a friend to talk to?’

When she said that, I took the pillow away from my face and stayed staring at the ceiling as I told her everything. About feeling like everyone else was better than me, about how (until her) I didn’t have any real friends since moving here, and how nervous I was about the gig. It was so cool when she said,

‘Well, there’s no getting rid of me now, and I’d choose you over Barbara and her stuck-up bunch any day of the week. You rock, they just shop!’

She knew I was holding back and asked,

‘And what about Christophe?’

‘What about him?’

‘Come on, chick, it doesn’t take a genius to work out that there’s something funny between you two. Do you hate each other or like each other?’

‘I like him, he doesn’t like me,’ was how I summed it up, and then explained about what his mum said about seeing me as a sister, and about the fact that he has a girlfriend called Helen across town.

Em-J started to look concerned.

‘Maybe they met at the end-of-term party that I met him at. I think it was a couple of days after the Hoopers moved here. Don’t worry, chick, if you want him we’ll get him for you!’

That’s my worst nightmare, people doing things, 
because it always gets mixed up. So I told her that I’d gone off him and not to do anything.

I know she didn’t believe me, but she said,

‘OK then, we’ll just make him see that he made the wrong choice. I have a plan.’

I
love
Em-J’s plans. This one involved us working out really cool moves, looks and steps that I can do during each song. The kitchen broom made a mike stand and a candle was the mike for the bits where I was moving around. We snuck into everyone’s bedrooms and borrowed their mirrors, so we had this big bank of mirrors along the empty wall, which helped a lot. We agreed that while the boys are there I’ll just sing as usual, and then on the night they will be as amazed as anyone.

Just as we had put the mirrors back and made ourselves some soup, the radio station called and wanted to interview us live by phone
that very minute
. We had no time to get nervous, and I spoke first about why we were holding the gig and then they asked Em-J about the band and she totally sold it as a great night out. I really talked and talked and didn’t think anything of it. Maybe I just needed something good to talk about all this time.

I’m glad I told Em-J all that stuff, but also glad I didn’t tell her about the Hazel Wood Girl and The 
Watcher. I just really hope he didn’t tell his girlfriend about it, I’d love to share this
one
thing just with him. I walked past the Hazel Wood later in the afternoon and could see a note hanging there for me, but I was too sad to go and look at it.

We didn’t have a rehearsal tonight because Christophe said he had to work late for the farmer he works for. I bet he’s not working that late, but he didn’t think he could tell us he wanted to spend time with Helen instead of with the band.

At dinner we were talking about how to organise parking all the cars on the night of the gig, and Dad couldn’t remember Beau’s name and called him, ‘Your relaxed friend’, which made me wonder how people would describe me. I mean, Em-J is outrageous, Christophe is funny, Sammy-boy is thinky (oh, what’s the word for that? I think ‘contemplative’ or something), Mindy is carefree, but what about me? I’m boring.

All my stuff goes on inside. I know that I’m way better than I was since the whole band thing started. I’d love people to think of me as creative and daring. Then when other people’s dads couldn’t think of my name they’d say,

‘You know, that creative girl, the really daring one.’ And they’d know it was me.

Mum wanted to call the police this time because all the goose eggs have gone, and all the raspberries and most of what was left of the broad beans. Dad calmed her down and promised to get a security camera. Adam didn’t help by saying that they’d probably steal that too.

I phoned the music shop and they have only sold four tickets for the Farmer gig, so I am going to meet Em-J (who got the posters from Christophe at nine o’clock this morning) and Beau (who was supposed to get the posters from Christophe at eight o’clock 
this morning).

I’m still really hurt and pissed off that Christophe has a girlfriend and that he kept her a secret. I don’t think I’d even admitted it to myself how hopeful I was getting. Now I just want to show him as well as all the others that I am worth paying attention to, that I am fantastic in some way. I can’t leave the note hanging there any more. I’m going to go and see.

The note said,

‘Your
Friend
’!!! OK, well he couldn’t make it any clearer than that could he?

I have to get ready now to walk into town.

It’s so weird how everything can change so quickly. I felt so good yesterday with Em-J, and then I was 
pissed off at the note, and then soon after that I’m ready to forget the whole thing and lock myself away in my room for life and eat only bread. Mouldy bread at that. I hate my life. I keep getting happy for a while and then getting tricked by people only pretending to care about me.

I arranged to meet Em-J and Beau at four o’clock to do postering, but they didn’t bother to show up, they just left the posters there with the manageress. There I was, like an absolute donkey, waiting outside the café with all these posters, until after half an hour I went in and had a cup of tea and was feeling really abandoned. It was worse then because Beau’s mum came in to meet someone and as she passed me she said did I not go to the movie with the others. So I got stood up so they could go and enjoy themselves, and I suppose they thought I’d just go ahead and do all the postering work by myself.

Then, just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I went into the music shop to give them a poster to put up by the counter, and there was Christophe looking at the guitar strings when he was supposed to be at work. I decided that I would win this time, and breezed over to the counter, gave Eddie (the owner) a couple of posters, and told him rehearsals were going great. By then Christophe had 
seen me and was walking over. There was another girl in the shop, but I couldn’t tell if she was with him or not. And I was in NO mood to meet the famous Helen.

I put on a real cheery voice and said,

‘Not helping with the posters then?’

And he said,

‘I’d love to, but I have to get back to work in ten minutes. Would you like me to—’, but I said,

‘OK, see ya!’ and bounced out of the shop and up the street.

I didn’t stop to do any of the posters, but walked home by the double row of elms. It was the worst walk home I have ever had, even worse than all those times coming home from a hellish day at school. This time it was people I really thought were my friends who had let me down. I just cried all the way and was happy when it started to rain.

Luckily I had the posters in a waterproof bag, but I didn’t even care about that.

Now I just think that Barbara and her friends must be right, there’s something wrong with me, something that makes people want to walk all over me.

I didn’t have the heart to do the postering on my own this morning so I went into the greenhouse to read. Sammy-boy wasn’t there and I just sat feeling sad and angry for an hour, not even looking at the French stuff.

Then Em-J comes walking up with a big grin on her face which made me REALLY angry.

‘So super-chick, how did it go?’ she smiled.

God, she didn’t even say sorry! I started yelling at her. That’s not my style and I was as surprised as she was. 

‘
How did it go? How did it go?
Well, Em-J, as far as getting stood up by your mates and waiting around for an hour and having to carry all the posters home by myself in the rain goes, it went
brilliantly
. And how was your afternoon with your boyfriend at the movies!?’

I didn’t even wait for an answer, but ran out of the greenhouse and raced across the fields towards the Hazel Wood.

Em-J was going,

‘Wait, Poppy, wait!’

So I shouted,

‘I think I’ve done enough
waiting
, don’t you?’

The next thing, I suddenly found myself lying in the mud with something around my knees.

Em-J had tackled me to the ground and wasn’t letting me up until I listened.

She spoke really quickly.

‘Christophe was supposed to be there too. I left him a message and his mum said he’d be finished by then. Our plan was to keep out of your way so that the two of you would spend time together without me and Beau, and that maybe Christophe would see the light, ditch his girlfriend and go out with
you. Love
the new temper by the way, every rock star should have one.’ 

There was about five seconds of silence, and I said, ‘Oh!’ and then we both started laughing.

She was really sorry, and had been so certain that Christophe was going to be there and that her plan would work and I’d be ecstatically happy. I could tell that she was really distressed that it had gone wrong, and she kept saying that she would never take me for granted like that.

Then I blurted out what else had been on my mind.

‘Em-J, do you think I’m really boring compared to you and the others?’

‘God no! I think that you say really good things while I just shoot my mouth off all over the place. We all talk about how kind and clever you are, and how smart and sophisticated you sound compared to us.’

‘Oh,’ was again as smart and sophisticated as I could manage in the moment.

We arranged to go and do the posters after the rehearsal (and after showering and changing). They had called a last-minute rehearsal that morning because Christophe got the morning off, but they couldn’t get hold of me to tell me.

The others were waiting at the stone barn when Em-J and I walked in, covered in mud, although she was used to it, having been a member of the town’s junior women’s rugby team for the past two winters. 
We were laughing and looking like we’d been sleeping rough for weeks.

‘Don’t ask,’ Em-J warned the boys with a smile and a head shake. And they did as they were told.

The rehearsal was great, and every time I
almost
made one of the moves or gestures we had practised in my room, and then stopped myself, Em-J would turn away so we wouldn’t crack each other up.

We found out that Christophe didn’t get yesterday’s postering message until late last night. Christophe wasn’t as smiley as usual. He looks really tired these days. I forget sometimes that his mum is sick and that he has a lot on his plate. I have decided to act better towards him and be his friend. After rehearsals he gave a quick tired smile and ran off. I’m really confused as to how things got to feel so bad between us. I am sitting here on my bed at midnight, trying to work out how to answer his Watcher note.

I am going to write,

Should I just write, ‘from’ or make it, ‘love from’? God, I’m impossible!