Mates, Dates and Cosmic Kisses (8 page)

‘Er, Mark . . .’ I began.

‘Yeah,’ he smiled back at me.

‘You know when you said you’d phone me . . .’

‘Oh yeah. I was going to tell you. My mobile got nicked. I was going to phone you.’

Suddenly he looked uncomfortable. Had I gone too far? But if his mobile had been stolen maybe that explained it. Not really, I thought. There are other phones. I decided to jump right in. I
didn’t want to spend another week agonising over whether he was interested or playing games. I had nothing to lose.

‘You know when we saw each other last Saturday and you were phoning me?’

‘Yeah,’ he smiled and put his hand over mine on the table. ‘That was amazing, wasn’t it? Synchronicity, like you said.’

A lovely tingling feeling went right through me. I cast about in my head for how I could ask him without sounding like I didn’t trust him.

‘Was that your dad who answered the phone?’ said Mark, interrupting my confusion.

‘What do you mean? My dad?’

‘When I phoned you.’

I was more confused than ever. ‘What do you mean?’

‘When I saw you, remember? I’d just called you when there you were in front of me.’

‘Yeah. And I was just about to pick up.’

‘Yeah. But I wasn’t phoning your mobile. There were two numbers on your card. I called the first one and some bloke answered.’

He must have phoned my home number. And
Angus.
Angus must have picked up.

‘So you didn’t phone me on my mobile? You called my
house
.’

‘Yeah, was that your dad? He sounded very posh.’

‘No,’ I said. ‘It must have been the lodger that picked up.’

‘Anyway,’ said Mark, playing with my fingers, ‘there you were in front of me.’

Suddenly the rosy glow came back. Nesta had been right. It must have been her on my mobile and that’s why she said no one picked up. But he had phoned. Hurrah. It was going to be all right
after all.

When I got home later that day I stormed into the kitchen to find Angus. He was sitting with my mum at the table, drinking a cup of tea.

‘Hi, Izzie,’ they chorused.

‘Why didn’t you tell me someone called last Saturday?’ I demanded, turning to Angus.

Angus looked startled. ‘What? When? What are you talking about?’

‘Don’t you even remember?’ I said. ‘It’s
really
important.’

Angus scratched his head. ‘When did you say?’

‘Last Saturday?’ I had to know if Mark was telling the truth.

‘I don’t know. Did someone leave a message and I forgot to pass it on? Let me think.’

‘They might not have left a message. A boy. A boy’s voice.’

Mum and Angus gave each other a knowing look.

‘Oh yes, I think the phone did go at some point,’ said Angus. ‘But no one was on the other end. I presumed it was a wrong number.’

I wanted to kill him. ‘You should have
told
me!’ I cried.

‘Izzie, don’t speak to Angus like that. He wasn’t to know it wasn’t a wrong number, especially if no one even spoke! He’s not psychic.’

Tears pricked the back of my eyes. ‘You don’t understand, do you?’ I turned back to Angus. ‘You almost ruined
everything
.’

‘Sit down and have some lunch with us, Izzie,’ said Mum softly. ‘Tell us what you’ve been up to.’

‘You wouldn’t understand!’ I wailed. ‘And anyway, there’s never anything I can eat in this house. Nobody cares about me . . .’

Mum’s expression clouded. ‘I’m getting
really
tired of your selfish attitude, Isobel. Go to your room. And don’t come down until you’re ready to
apologise.’

I stormed out and slammed the door. Go to your room. That’s all I ever heard these days. I couldn’t do anything right. Mums. I give up.

Chapter 8

I couldn’t believe
what happened the next week.

When I left Mark on Saturday, my plan to ask him for his number went out of the window as once again, he promised to call me. I told him not to phone my home number as Mum and the lodger were
hopeless at passing on messages. So he said he’d call on my mobile. Simple.

Or so I thought.

I checked my weekly horoscope and it said a slow start to the week but things would liven up around Thursday when Pluto was square to Mars, causing some confusion. Hah! Understatement.

On Thursday evening, Mum took me to Lucy’s house to have my guitar lesson with Lucy’s dad. She said she’d wait for me and as she got settled with a magazine in the kitchen, Mr
L and I went through to the sitting-room. We’d just got started on some chord exercises when my mobile rang.

‘Turn that off for the lesson,’ said Mr L.

‘Can I please take this call, just this one?’ I begged. It might have been Mark and I didn’t want to miss him.

‘Well, just this one,’ said Mr L. ‘Then I want your full concentration.’

‘Izzie, it’s me,’ said Nesta’s croaky voice. ‘I really need to talk to you.’

‘Can’t at the moment,’ I said. ‘I’m in the middle of a guitar lesson. Speak later.’

I was feeling a bit rotten about Nesta. She’d been off with flu all week and I hadn’t even called her. And I knew she hadn’t meant to be mean about Mark and I
knew
I
owed her an apology but I wanted to pick my time. Not when Mr L was listening in.

I put my mobile on the table where I could see it.

‘Off,’ said Mr L. ‘Switch it
off
for the lesson.’

‘Ohhh, do I have to?’

‘You do. I know what you girls are like on your phones and I’ve got another pupil straight after you so I don’t want us wasting time.’

I could see he meant it so reluctantly I switched the phone off and turned my mind to the guitar.

‘You’re getting better,’ said Mr L at the end of our hour. ‘Now did you bring me some of your songs to look at? Next time, we could start putting them
to music.’

‘Er, yes, no,’ I squirmed.

‘Er, yes, no. Did you or didn’t you?’

I had brought my lyrics with me but I didn’t want to show them. Not since that lesson when everyone laughed at my rap song.

‘I did bring them,’ I said. ‘But I don’t want to show them.’

‘Ah, a songwriter who doesn’t want anyone to hear her songs?’

‘I read a few lines of one of them in class and everyone laughed,’ I said.

Mr L looked at me kindly. ‘It’s hard, Izzie, when you do anything creatively. There will always be people who like what you do and those who don’t. You mustn’t take it
personally. But if you’re going to succeed, and I’m sure you will, you’ve got to be ready to take constructive criticism. Don’t be afraid to stick your neck out. Just be
careful who you show your work to in the beginning. Some people will criticise because they’re jealous but others can give you feedback that you can learn from.’

‘Well, will you read them when I’m not here? Then I don’t have to see your face if you don’t like them.’

Mr L laughed. ‘Sure. Leave them on top of the piano there. You needn’t be afraid, I’m sure I
will
like them.’

‘Well promise you won’t show them to anyone. Promise, not Lal or Steve or even Lucy. I’ve never shown them to anyone.’

‘Promise.’

As I left the room, I noticed my mum chatting to a boy in the kitchen. She looked up as she saw us coming in.

‘Er, can I have a word?’ she said to Mr L.

‘Sure,’ he said.

‘In private,’ she said and went off into the living-room with him. What’s all that about? I thought.

I looked across at the boy. He looked familiar. ‘Hey, don’t I know you?’ I asked.

The boy nodded and smiled. ‘Yeah, Ben. From your sister’s wedding.’

‘Stepsister,’ I corrected.

He looked really different from the way he’d looked at the wedding, cute almost, and in the same school uniform as Lucy’s brothers.

‘You go to the same school as Lal and Steve?’

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘That’s how I heard about the lessons.’

‘Where are they all? Lucy and Steve and Lal?’

‘Gone to the vid shop, I think,’ he said.

‘So you’re the next pupil?’

‘Yeah,’ he said.

At that moment, Mum came back out. ‘Ready? she asked.

‘Who was that?’ she asked as we drove away.

‘No one,’ I said. ‘He was at the wedding playing those awful songs.’

‘I
thought
I recognised him,’ said Mum. ‘Of course, he’s Jeremy’s younger brother. He was rather good on the piano, wasn’t he?’

‘Oh Mum, the music he played was totally naff. I’m surprised he’s bothering to have lessons. He clearly hasn’t a clue about decent music.’

‘What were you talking about?’ she asked.

‘Nothing,’ I replied. ‘Why, what were you talking to Mr L about?’

Mum got a really cheeky look on her face. ‘Oh nothing,’ she mimicked then we both burst out laughing.

It was only when we got home that I realised I’d left my mobile on the table at Lucy’s. And it was switched off.

‘I
have
to go back,’ I said to Mum. ‘I’ve left my mobile.’

‘You can live without it for one night,’ said Mum. ‘Call Lucy and ask her to take it into school in the morning.’

I went to the phone to call Lucy and saw that the answering machine was flashing two messages.

I pressed the playback button.

‘Hi, it’s Mark,’ said the first message. ‘I tried calling your mobile but it’s switched off so I thought I’d try your home number. Anyway, you’re not
there either so I’ll try your mobile again later.’

‘Oh
no
,’ I groaned.

Then there was a beep and a message from Angus for Mum saying he was working late. Oh pants. Now I couldn’t do 1471 to get Mark’s number as Angus had called in between and got in the
way.
Again
.

I quickly called Lucy, explained the situation and asked her to check if anyone had rung.

A few minutes later, she came back to the phone. ‘Only a message from Nesta about five minutes ago.’

‘Oh
no
,’ I said. ‘Mark said he’d try and call but I bet he gave up because he kept getting my voicemail when Nesta was on the line. Promise you’ll answer it
if it goes again?’

‘Course I will,’ she said. ‘And have you phoned Nesta?’

‘Not yet. Why?’

‘She really wants to talk to you,’ said Lucy.

Oh dear. She was mad at me. I’d better phone soon and make it up with her. But first, I had to get my mobile back.

I went into the sitting-room where Mum had settled on the sofa in front of the TV with a glass of wine.

‘Mum. Please will you take me back to Lucy’s to get my mobile?’

‘Izzie. It’s eight o’clock.’

‘It’ll only take twenty minutes.’

She sighed. Never a good sign. ‘I’ve had a long day at work, I took you to your music lesson, I waited for you and I’m
not
going back there now. We have a phone
here.’

‘Well I’ll go on the bus.’

‘You will not, not on your own at this time of night.’

‘Then I’ll get a taxi.’

‘Izzie. Watch my lips. N. O.
No.
Anyway, who was that boy on the answering machine?’

‘No one.’

‘Well what did he want?’

‘Nothing,’ I said.

This time, neither of us laughed.

Chapter 9

At school on Friday
, things really came to a head.

I know Mum’s mad at me. Nothing unusual there. But now Lucy is too.

‘Have you called Nesta yet?’ she said when she handed over my mobile phone in the break.

‘Not yet,’ I said. ‘I did mean to . . . but . . .’

‘But
what
?’ said Lucy crossly. ‘She’s phoned you a few times. And she’s ill. What’s the excuse this time? Mercury gone retrograde again so you
can’t pick up a phone?’

I was stunned. This wasn’t like Lucy. She was all stiff and looked really upset.

‘I will phone her. I’ve had a lot going on. And
actually
, it’s not Mercury, it’s Pluto, it’s going through a really intense phase in my chart and . .
.’

‘Tell me about it,’ said Lucy, looking skywards. ‘Not only Pluto.
You,
Izzie. You’re so . . . so serious about everything these days. And you can’t keep
blaming the stars. In fact, I’m getting sick of you using your stupid horoscope as an excuse for everything anyone does, doesn’t do or thinks. You know what? You’re no fun any
more.
And
you’ve been neglecting me. And Nesta. You’re not the only one going through stuff. But lately it’s all been about you. And Mark. And if he’s phoned or not.
And Mercury or Venus . . .’

She broke off. She looked near to tears. She turned away but I went and stood in front of her and put my hand on her arm.

‘Oh don’t cry, Lucy. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ve been a pain, haven’t I?’

‘Yes. You
have
.’

‘Look, I’ll phone Nesta this instant,’ I said and began dialling Nesta’s number. ‘And I’ll make it up to you. Honest I will. Lucy. Lucy? Still mates?
Please?’

Lucy sighed. ‘Course,’ she said. ‘Still mates. Just lighten up a bit, will you?’

At that moment the bell went for class.

‘I’ll phone Nesta at lunch. I will. I
will.
Promise.’