Playlist for a Broken Heart (14 page)

Clover pointed at the T-shirt shop. ‘She’ll try and bargain them down,’ she said as we found a table outside a café halfway down the hill. We ordered apple juices then
Clover texted her mum while I looked to see if Allegra had sent me a message. There wasn’t one but there was a missed call from her. I hadn’t heard it ring when we were in the
shops.

Tasmin was soon back with our T-shirts and was already wearing hers. It looked great and when she turned around, there was the black-and-white photo on the back. ‘And I got two quid
knocked off too,’ she said with a grin.

‘We can wear them tomorrow for the Zoom festival,’ said Clover.

‘FB mentioned that. He’s helping organise it,’ I said. ‘It was supposed to be a masked festival but no one was into it.’

‘Good,’ said Clover. ‘Because I like to see people’s faces properly.’

‘Especially the boys,’ said Tasmin. ‘Bring your posh mate from London. Everyone will be there. Everyone – because everyone has a mate or a brother or a cousin who’s
in one of the bands. Loads of out-of-towners come as well. It’s a fun day and someone’s bound to see our T-shirts – who knows, even the elusive Sarah or her Mystery
Boy?’

‘Perfect,’ I said.

Just as we set off for the station, my mobile rang. It was an indignant Allegra.

‘Where have you been? Where are you? I’ve been trying for ages to get through to you,’ she said. ‘I’ve got so much to tell you.’ And without asking if I could
talk or not, she launched into her news. ‘So Alex will be in Bath over the bank holiday. Something about a festival. Voom or Zoom.’

‘Zoom. We were just talking about it. It’s in the park near the Crescent. I thought we could go up there—’

‘Ooh synchronicity. Love it. Where are you? I can hear traffic.’

‘On my way to the train station in Frome,’ I said as I watched Tasmin and Clover link arms and walk ahead so that I could chat in private. ‘So Alex knows about Zoom?’

‘Apparently. Said he goes every year. His cousin is a musician and is playing. Where’s Frome?’

‘Not far from Bath. It’s got great vintage shops. And we’ve been busking.’

There was a silence on the other end of the phone . . . ‘Are you on drugs?’ asked Allegra finally.

‘Just high on life,’ I said. I was. It felt good and to top it all Alex was definitely coming to Bath. ‘Everyone in Bath is a musician.’

‘Sounds like you’re included now. Anyway, he said to text him if we’re going. He’s given me his number.’

‘Maybe he fancies
you
,’ I said.

‘No way. He specifically said he’d like to see
you
.’

‘What exactly did he say? Word for word? What happened? Where did you see him? Did you bump into him or did he come looking for you? I need
details
, Allegra.’

Allegra laughed. ‘OK. Let me remember. Details. I was in the car park after school last night, waiting for Mum, and he was there waiting for his ride. He saw me and came over. He asked if
I’d heard from you. I said yes and that I was coming to see you over the bank holiday and he said, how amazing because he was going to Bath too. ‘‘Be nice to see
her,’’ he said. Then he asked were we going to that festival Voom—’

‘Zoom,’ I corrected.

‘Zoom. I said I didn’t know anything about it or what we were doing, then he said that if we weren’t doing anything, it was worth going and that his cousin was playing. He said
if we’re going, we should text him and we can meet up. He gave me his number and then his ride came.’

‘Are you sure he doesn’t fancy you? Sounds to me like he was asking to see you.’

‘He really wasn’t, Paige. If he fancied me, he’s had enough chances to ask me out and anyway, more importantly, one, he’s not my type and two, you’re my best friend
and so it’s hands off anyone you fancy.’

‘I wouldn’t stop you,’ I said.

‘Paige, shut up. I don’t fancy Alex. Anyway, there will probably be loads of boys to meet at the Zoom festival. Bring it on, I say.’

When we finished our call, I ran to catch up with the girls. Alex coming to Bath. A music festival to go to. A mystery boy to find. Life was suddenly full of exciting possibilities. On the train
home, I pressed play on my iPod. The track by Lady B started up again.

Once again,
Songs for Sarah
was spot on in tune with me.

‘We’ve hardly got started on the makeover so we have to finish it,’ Clover insisted when we arrived back in Bath. ‘All we’ve got is a dress for
you, Tas, but Paige looks the same.’

‘I don’t feel the same,’ I said and burst into a chorus of my favourite carol.

Clover and Tasmin exchanged glances.

‘Nutter,’ said Tasmin.

‘It was your idea,’ I said and decided to treat them to the alternative version.

Clover and Tasmin cracked up, then sang their version.

‘Nutters,’ I said.

Clover and Tasmin bowed. ‘Thank you,’ said Tasmin. ‘And welcome to the club.’

We got the bus up the hill to an area I hadn’t been before called Bear Flat. Once off the bus, we headed up a steep road to Clover’s house. It was a Victorian terrace with a small
garden in front and great views down into the valley and Bath.

‘You know Mum’s a hairdresser and beautician,’ said Clover. ‘I texted her from Frome while you were in the T-shirt shop, Tas, and she’s ready and waiting for both
of you in the kitchen.’

‘Sneaky you, and you never said anything,’ said Tasmin. ‘Well, she’s not cutting my hair.’

‘Or mine,’ I said.

Clover threw her head back and did an evil mad-witch laugh. ‘Mwah hah hah.’ She beckoned us through the porch to the hall. ‘Come into my lair, leettle girls.’

Tasmin rolled her eyes then pushed past her. ‘Some days I despair about you, Clover Richards and you too now, Paige. Am I the only sane one here?’

‘I won’t answer that,’ said Clover.

Her mum was ironing in the kitchen. She was tall, dark-skinned and as stunning-looking as Clover. She came and gave me a warm hug. ‘You must be Paige. I’ve heard all about
you,’ she said. ‘I’m Clover’s mum.’

‘Hi Mrs Richards,’ I said.

‘You can call me Sonia.’

She stood back and scrutinised my face and hair. She didn’t say anything, then she turned to Tasmin and did the same. ‘You first.’ She looked at Clover and I. ‘So girls,
what’s my brief ?’

Clover made a motion to me with her hand as if to say, ‘You say first.’

‘I . . . ahem . . . OK, the brief is to do a make
under
on Tasmin rather than
over
. Make her look a bit more natural and maybe get rid of the hair extensions. Bit of
gloss—’

Clover started laughing as she had done earlier when I made suggestions about how Tasmin could change her look. Sonia nodded. ‘I get the picture. And for Paige, what do you think,
girls?’

‘Tart her up proper,’ said Tasmin, then she laughed. ‘I mean, a bit of make-up and—’

‘Maybe a bit of a haircut,’ Clover interrupted. ‘It looks so heavy and she always wears it tied back.’

‘Done,’ said Sonia. ‘Ok Tas, come with me.’

Tasmin sighed heavily then followed Sonia into a small conservatory at the back of the house where there was a salon area with a washbasin, and hair and beauty products on a silver trolley.
Clover made us hot chocolates then we went into watch Sonia do her magic. And magic it was. Within minutes, Tasmin’s extensions hit the bin.

‘Yay!’ Clover and I cheered each time her mum pulled one out.

Sonia laughed. ‘I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.’

Tasmin looked shocked. ‘Is there anyone who liked my hair extensions?’

‘No,’ said Clover.

Once the extensions were out, she shooed Clover and I away into the sitting room at the front. We flicked on the TV and chatted as we waited.

Half an hour later, Sonia came in.

‘Ta-dah,’ she said and opened the door for Tasmin to come in.

‘Wow,’ Clover and I exclaimed when she appeared. She looked amazing, softer and prettier.

She’d changed into her vintage dress and Sonia had done a great job on her hair. She’d trimmed off all the dead straggly ends, cut it straight just below her shoulders then
blow-dried it so that it shone. The only make-up she had on was a slick of lip gloss, some blusher and mascara.

‘Do you like it?’ Clover asked her.

Tasmin shrugged but there was a glow about her and I could see that she was pleased with the result. She looked at me and raised an eyebrow. ‘You next.’

I got up to go with Sonia and Tasmin flopped on the sofa.

‘What would you like done, honey?’ Sonia asked when we’d got into her home salon.

I sat in the chair she’d set up in front of a table laid out with various items of make-up. ‘I’ve no idea. I’ve always worn my hair this way.’

Sonia undid my ponytail so my hair fell over my shoulders. ‘You have lovely hair but it’s not really got any shape. How about I take a little of the length off and put in a few
layers so that it falls better?’

‘Um . . . OK.’

She started cutting and I felt slightly anxious when I saw hair falling onto the floor. Sonia must have seen that I was nervous. ‘Just relax, hon,’ she said. ‘I moved the
mirror so you don’t watch and get freaked. Trust me. It’s going to look great.’

Too late now
, I thought as I looked at the dark tendrils of hair on the floor.
And she did make Tasmin look good
. After the cut, Sonia washed and blow-dried my hair then began
to apply make-up to my face. It all felt very relaxing and as she brushed on shadows and applied foundation, I began to drift off, dreaming about vintage shops full of lace and velvet.

‘OK, you’re done,’ said Sonia after a short while. She led me to the side of the conservatory where she’d put the mirror. ‘What do you think?’

I looked at my reflection. She’d not cut as much off my hair as I thought but it looked different. She’d given me a side parting and graduated it from my jaw to the ends giving the
shape style and movement. The make-up she’d applied was subtle, apart from a strong-red lip colour. It was me but not me. I looked sophisticated. ‘I love it,’ I said. ‘I
look like a grown-up.’

‘You look beautiful,’ said Sonia with a grin.

Clover and Tasmin came out and, when she saw me, Tasmin whistled. ‘Look out, boys, there’s a new girl in town. You look fab, cuz.’

‘Good job, Mum,’ said Clover.

‘And you can have the make-up products,’ said Sonia. ‘I get sent samples all the time so they haven’t cost me anything.’

‘And there’s more,’ said Clover and started heading up the stairs. ‘Come on up. I want to show you something.’

I followed her up to her bedroom with Tasmin not far behind me. Her room was colourful in reds, purple and oranges but it was so different to Tasmin’s. It was neat and tidy with loads of
magazines piled at the side of her bed. She went to her wardrobe and pulled out a petrol-blue bandage V-neck skater dress.

‘Try it on,’ she said.

‘But I never wear dresses,’ I said.

‘Exactly,’ said Clover.

I tried on the dress and stood back to look in the mirror. It fitted like a glove and looked fabulous.

‘It’s yours,’ said Clover, who had gone back to rummage in her wardrobe. ‘I got it from Topshop in the sale and it doesn’t quite fit me. It looks as if it was made
for you.’ She pulled out a black bolero jacket. ‘Put this on too.’

I did as I was told and the jacket looked great with the dress.

‘Wear it tomorrow for Zoom,’ said Paige. ‘All the boys will be queuing up for you.’

I don’t want boys queuing up for me
, I thought.
Just Alex
. ‘But I haven’t got any money to give you,’ I said.

Clover waved her hand as if dismissing what I’d said. ‘I was going to take it to the charity shop. It’s yours. You can buy me a coffee some time.’

I gave her a big hug.

‘Lezzers,’ said Tasmin, so I picked up a cushion from Clover’s bed and biffed Tasmin with it. Clover soon joined in.

Tasmin grabbed the pillow from the bed. ‘Don’t mess with the professional,’ she said and swung the pillow in the air then aimed it at Clover’s back.

Clover soon retaliated. She leapt up onto her bed and took aim at both Tasmin and I. ‘Pillow fight,’ she called.

Soon we were all going at it, biffing and swiping.
So much for feeling sophisticated five minutes earlier,
I thought. It felt great to be acting like a kid and being mad. Tasmin was
right. My style and personality came across as safe and sensible but that wasn’t who I was inside. I was changing and felt like the real me was growing stronger. Who that was, I wasn’t
quite sure yet. Someone who wore a top hat and Victorian jacket in a vintage shop in Frome, someone who wore red lipstick or someone who could pack a mean punch when it came to the battle of the
pillows?

When I set off down the hill later to go home, something at the back of my mind was nagging me, like an idea was trying to reveal itself. It had started as I’d been
dozing at Clover’s while her mum did the makeover – I’d been dreaming of vintage shops, velvet and lace, that had been it. I went over the day in my mind from the beginning
– the train ride to Frome, the great vintage shops there, the dressing up, then the makeover.
People love dressing up in different guises, different costumes,
I thought as I reached
the steps up to my new front door. Then ping. I had it. It felt like someone had just switched a light on in my head. I’d had the most brilliant idea! It was so obvious, staring me in the
face all day. I took the stairs up to the flat two by two. I couldn’t wait to tell Mum and Dad.