Chapter 2

I never did get round to ringing Mel that evening, but I did talk to Cal for five minutes, when we caught each other up on our days and she told me all about the music facilities at her new school, and some of the other girls she’d met.

Apart from Dad, who is always up before six to get to work, I was the first up the next morning, sat at the kitchen table eating a bowl of Weetabix.

I’d been there about ten minutes, when I was joined by my sister, who promptly walked around the table, put her arms around my neck and planted a big, wet, sloppy kiss on my cheek.

“What was that for?” I asked when she let me go.

“For being the best brother in the world,” she replied.

“So, I should either ask, what did I do, or what do you want?” I answered, “which one is it?”

“What you did,” she replied, “you talked to Mum last night and persuaded her that she should get me some protection. Not that I intend needing it, but like she said, I’m young and full of weird new hormones, and things could get out of hand. She said she’d sleep better at night knowing I wasn’t going to knock her up one night telling her my boyfriend knocked me up.”

I almost spat out a mouthful of Weetabix when she said that.

“What are your plans for today then?” I asked.

“School, doctors, then round to Geoff’s to do our homework together,” she answered.

“Where you’ll tell him the result of your chat with Mum,” I suggested.

“Oh, no,” she replied, “that might give him the idea that I’m ready and inviting him. I’m not, for either.”

“Then make sure he understands that,” I said, “would you like me to talk to him?”

“Oh yes,” she said, “that sounds like a plan. Set my big brother onto my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” I queried, “what happened to ‘not the boyfriend’?”

I made air quotes for the final three words.

“All right, he’s my boyfriend, all right?” she asked, “satisfied now?”

“I always was,” I said, “you were the one in denial.”

“I was not in denial,” she said, “we were just friends, that’s all. He never asked me out, until this week.”

“That’s all right, then,” I said.

“At least Mum and Mr James didn’t have to gang up on us,” she muttered.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Oh, nothing,” she replied and began to get herself some breakfast.

I finished mine, rinsed the bowl and put it in the dishwasher, then went upstairs to get ready for school. There’s no uniform for the sixth form at school, just a no jeans, no t-shirts, no trainers rule.

I wore grey trousers, a long-sleeved polo shirt, and a pair of suede slip-ons from Cotton Traders. My bag had a pullover and a foldable raincoat in case it rained, as well as my books, I said goodbye to both my Mum, who had surfaced by this time and my sister and left for the short walk down to the bus stop.

There was no Mel again at the bus stop, and I didn’t spot her in school or in the two lessons we shared that day. The mystery was deepening.

It deepened further when I tried ringing their home phone number at lunchtime and got no reply.

I had practice after school, so it was after five by the time I’d showered and got dressed. Mum was picking me up since the school buses had stopped running, and I stood at the bus stop waiting for her.

She pulled up just after a quarter past, and I dumped my bag on the back seat and climbed in.

“Mum,” I said, as I fastened my seat belt, “could I have a lift after tea?”

“Of course, love, “she replied, “where to?”

“The Corbett’s house,” I replied.

“Yes, of course,” she replied, “why do you want to go?”

“Mel hasn’t turned up at school for the last two days, and nobody seems to know why,” I answered, “I just want to go round and check that she’s all right.”

When we came to the junction of the road from Featherstone with the main Pontefract Road, instead of turning right towards home, Mum turned left, towards Pontefract.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“You said you wanted to go to Mel’s house,” she replied.

Ten minutes later we pulled up outside a large, detached house in Townville, and I climbed out of the car.

I walked through the gate and up the short driveway and to the front door, where I pressed the bell button and waited.

And waited.

Finally, after over five minutes, I gave up and walked, dejectedly back to the waiting car.

“Well?” Mum asked as I fastened my seat belt.

“No answer,” I replied, “the house looks deserted.”

“Perhaps there’s been a family emergency,” she suggested, “and they’ve all gone off to be with whoever’s affected.”

“But they’re supposed to be hosting a barbecue this weekend,” I replied, “surely if that were the case, they’d have let people know?”

“You would think so,” she replied, “yes. But perhaps it was very sudden and they haven’t yet got round to calling it off. Maybe they’re hoping to be back by then.”

“That’s possible, I suppose,” I agreed, “but I have a bad feeling about it.”

“Really?” she asked, “in what way?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, “it’s just a feeling that something is not right. I like Mel, I mean, she’s a bit pushy, but once she realised that I had a girlfriend she cut back and seems happy with just being friends. And she’s really, really bright. I think she and Cal will get on.”

“Unless Cal sees her as a threat,” Mum said.

“Why should she do that?” I asked, “she knows I would never, ever cheat.”

“So she does,” she replies, “but does she also believe that you would never, ever break up with her to be with someone else?”

“I hope she does,” I answered, “I’ve never even for a second considered anything like that.”

“So why this sudden obsession with this Mel girl?” she asked.

“It’s not an obsession, Mum,” I objected, “she’s a friend from school who seems to have just vanished, along with her family. Nobody at school has heard anything about her for two days, her parents haven’t rung to say she’s sick, nothing. All I am is a bit worried about a school friend.”

“Well, just don’t let it take you over,” she said.

“I won’t Mum,” I answered, “but it just doesn’t seem right. She didn’t strike me as the flighty type.”

“It’s probably nothing more than a family emergency that has taken them away.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “you’re probably right.”

I agreed with her verbally, but something just didn’t seem right to me.

When I spoke to Cal that night, she noticed straight away that something was troubling me.

“What is it, love,” she asked when I finally admitted to having a concern.

“There’s a new girl at school, Mel,” I explained, “the one whose party we were invited to.”

“Yes,” she said, suddenly sounding nervous, “what about her?”

“Well she and her whole family have disappeared,” I answered, “their house is all locked up and nobody seems to have heard from any of them.”

“Maybe there was a family emergency,” she suggested, “or they just went on holiday.”

“Nobody arranges a party then goes on holiday without at least letting the guests know,” I countered.

“Maybe they’re planning on being back for the party,” she suggested.

“You could be right,” I was forced to agree, “well, we’ll just have to wait for the weekend. You’re coming home right?”

“Of course I am,” she replied, “I finish at two on Friday, and I don’t have anything Saturday morning, so I reckon I can be home by about five.”

“Is your Mum picking you up from the station?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll come with her,” I said, “so, how are things over there?”

“Lots going on,” she answered, “lots of things to do, places to go. It’s a really busy city, and, of course, it has its own orchestra.”

“The school?” I asked.

“Well yes, but I meant the city, the Halle Orchestra, Mark Elder is the conductor.””Oh, right,” I said, not really understanding the classical music world that Cal seemed to exist in
, “are they any good?”

“One of the best in the country,” she replied, “When can you come over here?”

She was very good at just leaping from one subject to another.

“Well,” I replied, “you’re coming home this weekend, I could come over there the weekend after. Why?”

“Some of the snootier people over here, mainly girls, refuse to believe that I have a boyfriend for a start, although that’s mainly the boys who want to apply for the position. But the girls refuse to believe that said boyfriend is you.”

“They don’t believe you have a boyfriend back in Cas?” I asked.

“No, they don’t believe that my boyfriend David is David J. Barker, star of Star Academy,” she replied.

“So you want me to come over so you can parade me around and score points?”

“No,” she replied, “I want you to come over so my new friends can meet you and, maybe, so the boys here will stop trying to get me to go out on dates with them.”

“So long as your motives are good, I’ll do it,” I said, “I take it I can’t stay with you?”

“No,” she replied, “it wouldn’t be allowed.”

“Then I’ll book us a hotel for the weekend.”

“The Midland?” she asked.

“I doubt that,” I replied, “the TV company aren’t paying this time, I am.”

“Stingy,” she said, “and you with all your millions.”

“May I point out, my love that you are not on the breadline yourself,” I said, “unless you’ve spent it all already.”

She giggled.

“But don’t worry,” I said, “I’ll find us somewhere nice.”