So Talk to Me Read online

  I’ve wallowed long enough and I’ve decided that I have to get over things so I’m going to keep going to the counselling. Obviously, I can’t tell him the truth about Mum but maybe he can help with other things. Like, the fact that I’m a complete weirdo and only have one friend in the whole world (obviously Dad and Skipper don’t count).

  Also, I’m going to try and make an effort , as Mum used to say. I could carry on moping around and being frightened of my own shadow or, to quote Biro, I can grow a pair . Time to wake up and get on with life, Mum dying must have been absolutely devastating for Dad and he tries really hard to be positive and get on with life so I’m going to try too.

  The first effort I made was tucking into my bacon sandwich although I didn’t really want it and, I even told Dad how tasty it was. I gave Skipper the burnt bits when Dad wasn’t looking as I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I like my bacon well done but Dad had practically incinerated it and even Skipper had a job to choke it down.

  And then I pasted a smile on my face and said I was looking forward to starting my new job and Dad was all pleased and gave me a big hug. And that made me feel better because I knew it cheered Dad up.

  So I am trying.

  ✽✽✽

  Bit disappointed, if I’m honest. I was expecting a hustling, bustling newsroom, sort of like the Daily Planet in Superman. So the dusty, slightly grubby and scruffy office doesn’t quite match up to Uncle Ralph’s ‘hold the front page’ stories. Uncle Ralph told me to sit at someone called Ian’s desk. As he’s not here I’ve pushed all of his stuff out of the way and wiped it over with a damp cloth I found in the kitchen. The desk top was gross; sweet wrappers and crisp packets and, what looked like, pasty crumbs scattered everywhere. At least I hope that’s what they were. I pulled one of the drawers open to look for a pen and hastily shut it again. Urgh, disgusting.

  After that I made Uncle Ralph a cup of tea and looked out of the window. Louise is going ‘to show me the ropes’ when she arrives but she’s not here yet.

  ‘She’ll be here soon, Josie,’ Uncle Ralph calls over with a mouthful of doughnut. I think he’s worried that I’ll change my mind and go home.

  The bang of the door downstairs interrupts the silence, so hopefully that’s Louise. Seconds later the office door flies open and a fluffy dog with big floppy ears bounds through the door and heads straight for me. A woman follows behind him shouting loudly.

  ‘Sprocket!’ The dog ignores her and lollops around me like a giant puppy, ears flapping and his tail whirling around like helicopter blades. I reach down and stroke him and say hello and he rolls onto his back so I can rub his tummy.

  ‘Sorry about him.’ Louise comes over and hauls him up by grabbing his collar. ’I’m Louise, this is Sprocket and you must be Josie?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, Josie, just ignore him.’ She nods at Sprocket who’s straining to get away from Louise and back to me and is half strangling himself. ‘He’ll stop eventually.’

  ‘I don’t mind,’ I say, ‘I like dogs.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure,’ she says and lets go of his collar.

  Sprocket gets as close to me as he can and sits on my feet and gazes up at me with chocolate brown eyes and as I look down at him his tail starts to do the helicopter wag again.

  I reach down and scratch his ears. ‘It’s okay, I’m used to dogs. He’s lovely anyway.’ I feel a pang of guilt; Skipper’s been mostly ignored since Mum died, he was mainly her dog and at first we couldn’t bear to look at him because he pined for her so much. Like us. He’s like a ghost dog now, always there, desperate for a bit of attention and overjoyed with whatever scraps of affection come his way. I look at Sprocket gazing up at me and I feel suddenly choked. I make another resolution; make a big fuss of Skipper, he’s grieving too.

  ‘You okay?’ Louise is looking at me with concern; I’m doing that staring thing again.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ I manage a smile.

  ‘I’ll just get a drink and I’ll show you what we’re doing.’ Louise unravels her scarf and starts to unbutton her coat.

  ‘That’s okay,’ I say. ‘I’ll make you a drink, the kettle’s just boiled.’

  ‘Oh, would you, that’d be lovely. White coffee, no sugar please.’

  Sprocket follows me out to the kitchen and sits immobile by my side while I make Louise’s coffee; Skipper often does this so I know Sprocket’s waiting for a biscuit. I’m in the process of searching the cupboards when Louise comes in.

  ‘If you’re looking for a biscuit you won’t find them. I have to hide them.’

  Louise laughs at the look on my face.

  ‘I do. Your Uncle Ralph and Ian will scoff a whole packet with one cup of tea. I’ll let you in on the secret if you promise not to tell them.’

  She pulls out a drawer. ‘Under the clean tea towels – there’s no danger of them looking in there. Lucy and I are the only ones who know what a tea towel is for.’ She puts her hand under the pile and pulls out a packet of custard creams.

  Sprocket shuffles from foot to foot with his gaze fixed on the packet.

  ‘Just one, that’s all.’ She takes one out of the packet and tosses it towards him and he snaps his jaws around it mid-air and swallows it in one gulp.

  ‘Didn’t touch the sides,’ Louise laughs. ‘Want one?’ She offers me the packet.

  ‘No, I’m alright thanks.’

  ‘That’s why you’re lovely and slim,’ she says as she crams a biscuit into her mouth. ‘Me, no willpower at all.’

  She takes another biscuit from the packet then tucks it back into the drawer under the tea towels.

  ‘Right then, Josie, follow me and I’ll initiate you in the wonderful ways of archiving. Be warned, you may need matchsticks to keep your eyes open, it’s so boring.’

  I try to look interested.

  ‘Basically,’ she says, ‘You’re going to be shredding a load of old paper that goes back to the year dot.’

  ‘Oh, okay.’ I follow Louise to her desk.

  ‘And the reason we have to do this is because your Uncle Ralph hasn’t thrown anything out since he bought the place.’

  ‘What?’ Uncle Ralph looks up from his desk at the mention of his name.

  ‘I was just telling Josie how you’ve never thrown anything away.’

  ‘It’s not that bad.’

  ‘It is.’ Louise bends down underneath her desk and drags a large cardboard box out and hoists it onto her desk. ‘There’s stuff in here so old it was done on a typewriter. ’

  ✽✽✽

  By mid-morning there are three large black bin bags full of shredded paper and the shredder is so hot I think it might explode.

  ‘Should probably have a break now or the shredder might give up the ghost entirely, better let it cool down for a while.’ Louise looks as hot as I feel; I didn’t know feeding old paper into a shredder could be so physical. I put a big jumper on this morning because it was cold outside but I’m regretting it now.

  It’s hardly exciting work but I’ve sort of enjoyed it, Louise is really nice and easy to get on with and I don’t feel under scrutiny like I do at college. I don’t feel like a weirdo.

  ‘Is there a reason this dog is hanging around me?’ Uncle Ralph shouts across the office. ‘Because when I said you could bring it in, I didn’t expect to have it sat on me.’

  Sprocket isn’t sitting on Uncle Ralph but he is sitting right beside him and looking at him expectantly. He can probably smell the stash of cakes and doughnuts in his desk.

  ‘Stop exaggerating Ralph, he’s not sitting on you and if it’s that bad, I can go home.’ Louise winks at me.

  ‘I never said I minded, did I? Just saying, that’s all.’

  ‘I can go if he’s a problem, I did tell you I had to bring him. He is my dog, can’t expect someone else to look after him all the time. It is Saturday.’’

  ‘No, it’s all right, he’s no bother.’ Uncle Ralph pats Sprocket awkwardly on the h
ead; he’s worried now that he might not get the shredding done.

  ‘Fancy a trip down to the precinct Josie? Leave this to cool down for a while and get a sandwich or something ready for lunchtime?

  ‘Yes, I need to get something to eat. I’ll get my coat.’ I get my Parka from the back of Ian’s chair and put it on and then think better of it and take it off. I’m far too hot and going outside will cool me down a bit. I feel quite brave going out without it; no hiding in the hood.

  ‘Do you want anything Ralph?’ Louise calls across to Uncle Ralph.

  ‘I’ll have a cheese and onion sarnie if they’ve got one.’

  ‘Watch Sprocket for me. Won’t be long.’

  I head down the stairs and Louise follows but when we get to the bottom I stop and listen for a moment.

  ‘What’s that awful noise?’

  Louise laughs. ‘That’ll be Sprocket. Howling.’

  Uncle Ralph will not be happy.

  ✽✽✽

  The rest of the morning went really quickly; the shredder had cooled down when we got back and we resumed ‘archiving’. Louise is really easy to get on with; I wish I could get on with people my own age as easily. I don’t feel like I’m being judged or that I have to analyse every word I say when I talk to her.

  We don’t talk about it but I know she’s been through some tough times because Uncle Ralph told Dad and Dad told me. Apparently, Louise’s Dad used to live next door to the Frogham Throttler and she nearly became a victim herself. Auntie Bridget always says that Uncle Ralph has no scruples but he didn’t print a word about what happened to Louise until the trial. He could have had the scoop on the big newspapers but out of loyalty to Louise he didn’t. Must have nearly killed him not printing it though.

  And to think that it all happened just across the road from our house; unbelievable. I’ve racked my brains to see if I remember seeing Louise’s Dad or the Frogham Throttler but I don’t think I ever did. Even with my photographic memory.

  ‘What have you got planned for the rest of the day, Josie? Anything exciting?’

  ‘No, nothing, although my friend’s asked me to go with him to audition musicians for his band, but I don’t think I will.’

  ‘Why not? Sounds like fun, you might meet a hunky bass player, or have you already got a boyfriend?’

  Me? Got a boyfriend? Fat chance. Although I’m flattered that Louise thinks it’s even a possibility.

  ‘No, I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.’ And never have done.

  ‘What’re they called? This band?’

  ‘Tourists of Reality.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I know. Cringe.’

  Louise laughs. ‘Yeah, a bit. But if you analyse a lot of the names they’re cringe, until they make it big.’

  ‘Tourists of Reality are not going to make it big. Trust me.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘Because Biro can’t sing. At all.’

  Sounds really disloyal saying it out loud and I suddenly feel crap. I only have one friend and I’ve just slagged him off.

  ✽✽✽

  ‘What time did you say the auditions start?’

  ‘Two o’clock.’

  We’re waiting in one of the college music rooms for the would-be band members to arrive. I felt compelled to come and support Biro, mostly because I need to make it up to him after slagging him off to Louise. Although obviously I won’t tell him that I did. Ever.

  ‘It’s only quarter past. No one’s ever on time.’

  ‘True.’ Biro looks at his watch again. ‘I’ll just go and check the main door, make sure there’s no one out there waiting ‘cos they don’t know where to go.’

  I huddle into my Parka and wrap my arms around myself. It’s cold in here, the heating must have been turned off for the weekend. There aren’t any windows in the room and the walls are made of some strange wood stuff with holes in it. Sound proofing, according to Biro. It doesn’t look like anyone is going to turn up and although I feel sorry for Biro, selfishly, I’ll be happy to just go home.

  The door is flung open and an overweight boy with greasy, mousey, shoulder length hair is almost pushed into the room by Biro.

  ‘Hey, look who was outside! Josie, meet Mogs. He plays bass guitar.’

  Mogs puts a hand up and says what I think is hi but I can’t be sure as he mumbles it through a curtain of hair.

  ‘No one else out there?’

  ‘No, not yet.’

  ‘’Scoming,’ says Mogs.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Danny’s coming.’ He hooks his fingers around his hair and parts it to reveal a pale, pudgy face with a porridge like complexion.

  He’s gonna be a bit late ‘cos he’s got to get the keyboard from his sister’s house.’

  ‘Cool,’ says Biro, brightening up.

  ‘Yeah. She said he could borrow it as long as she gets it back before Monday ‘cos she needs it for her singalong night at the old people’s home.’

  I find that I can’t look at Biro; it’s not exactly hard rock is it?

  ‘Okay, do you want to show me what you can do? Might as well make a start.’

  Mogs shrugs. ‘Kay. You say you’d got an amp?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Mogs unzips his guitar from the case and lays it reverently on the floor, he then unzips his duffel coat to reveal a faded Metallica t-shirt.

  I watch as he plugs the guitar into the amp and passes a webbed strap over his shoulder and picks the guitar up and clips it on.

  ‘So, what do you want me to play?’

  ‘What sort of stuff do you normally play?’

  Well.’ Mogs sniffs from behind his hair. ‘Y’know, the classics.’

  Biro looks horrified. ‘What? Classical music?’

  Mogs peers out from between his hair-curtain and gives Biro a puzzled look. ‘Floyd, Purple, bit of modern, y’know, Muse, Imagine Dragons.’

  ‘Oh yeah, course.’ Biro looks embarrassed. ‘Give us what you got then, man.’

  Did he really say man? This is going to be much, much worse than I thought. I step backwards and slide down the wall and settle myself on the floor. I get ready to stick my fingers in my ears.

  Mogs frowns in concentration, and through the gap in his hair I can see the blood rush to the acne on his face as he starts to play. I quietly slide my hands up to cover my ears but then stop as they reach my chin.

  He’s actually pretty good.

  I put my hands down and watch. As Mogs plays, a transformation comes over him, his fingers fly over the strings and he relaxes and seems to forget we’re even here.

  Biro and I look at each other, our mouths hanging open in amazement and as Mogs finishes a beaming smile appears on Biro’s face.

  ‘That was something else, man. Amazing, can’t beat a bit of Floyd’.

  I have to agree, it was absolutely amazing and I know nothing about Floyd, whoever he is.

  Mogs doesn’t speak, just nods, but he does have a beaming smile on his face.

  ‘So I guess I’ve found my bass player – if you want in?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Mogs nods some more. ‘I’m in.’

  The clank of the door opening interrupts us and a tall figure hidden by an enormous keyboard pushes his way into the room.

  ‘Hey, is this the right place for the band auditions?’

  ‘It is, mate.’ Biro grabs hold of the end of the keyboard and they manhandle it onto the floor and the tall figure straightens up.

  ‘Couldn’t carry the stand so it’ll have to go on a couple of chairs or something. I’m Danny by the way.’

  He stands and looks around at us all and smiles. Danny is the opposite of Mogs; tall, clear skinned, blonde and very good looking. I pull my hood down further over my face and wrap my arms around my legs again.

  Yeah, I know I’m supposed to have turned over a new leaf but give me time.

  ‘Hi, Danny. I’m Biro, this is Josie and you know Mogs?’ Danny beams around at me and Mogs.<
br />
  ‘Yeah, we were at school together.’ Danny drags two chairs over next to Mogs and lays the keyboard across them and then hunts around for a socket, finds one and plugs in the keyboard.

  ‘Okay,’ he says kneeling down in front of the keyboard, ‘What do you want me to play?’

  ‘Anything you like,’ says Biro.

  Danny pulls a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and carefully smooths it out with his hands. ‘Glad you said that ‘cos I only brought one song with me.’ He props the paper up against the chair back in front of the keyboard.

  ‘You need to read the music?’ Biro looks horrified.

  ‘Yeah ‘cos I haven’t been playing that long – is it a problem?’

  ‘No, no problem,’ Biro says unconvincingly. ‘Let’s hear it, man.’

  Danny frowns in concentration and slowly starts to play and the only way to describe it is painful. I can’t play any instruments at all but I honestly think I could do a better job than him. I can’t even make out what tune it is and every so often Danny pauses, scrutinises the keyboard to find the right key and then starts playing again.

  Make it stop. Please.

  ‘That’s great, thanks.’ Biro holds his hand up. ‘You’ve not been in a band before?’

  ‘Yeah, was in Stereo Outcast for a while.’

  ‘Playing keyboard?’

  ‘No.’ Danny looks embarrassed. ‘They gave me a guitar and said just to pretend I was playing it.’

  I’ve seen Stereo Outcast; they’re always auditioning for X Factor type shows and probably spend more time doing their hair than practising playing.

  ‘Then they found someone who could really play, so I left.’

  ‘To be fair you only need to know a few chords, you wouldn’t be playing the whole thing. Just a bit of backing.’

  Danny perks up. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yeah. I can teach you the chords – do you want in?’

  ‘Defo.’

  A lot of whooping and fist bumping goes on and I sit quietly watching. Biro’s no fool and I can see the way his mind is working, Danny’s going to be the eye candy of the band, the one to draw the girls in.

  ‘Josie!’