Dream On (21 page)

She'd woken up with a slight hangover but a smile on
her face, lying snug and happy under one of those amazing duvets that felt
lighter than air but still deliciously warm. She'd carried on smiling and
wishing her headache would go away while she watched Harley playing with Sam,
and then Max called them downstairs and threw together a very early breakfast of
pancakes, so that he could drop them both off and still open the café on
time.  Now Harley was at school and she had the day to herself. Perhaps she
would relax in a nice bath, put a colour on her hair.

It was only when she got home from shopping that
she saw she'd received a text from Dave, the night before, to say that he'd got
through the first round of the talent competition.

He'd sent it at half past ten; she pictured Ariel
snoozing in bed, next to him. Nice of him to remember, seeing as he probably
had far more exciting things to do, she supposed.

Seeing his name there, on her phone, made her
stomach lurch as it always did; but not quite so much as it used to.

Melodie had been up since six, blow drying her hair,
straightening it, applying mousse, rumpling it up, straightening it again,
painting her face, trying out facial expressions and poses in front of the
mirror.

"This is it," she kept saying. "This is my
moment. I'm going to be on
telly.
"

"Probably," said Ariel. "There are eighty acts, don't
forget. They won't show all of us."

"Oh, they'll show me," Melodie said.

Ariel smiled. "Yes, I imagine they probably will! Have you made up your mind what you're going to sing today?"

"Mmm. 'The Man with the Child in his Eyes' by Kate
Bush." She turned this way and that in the mirror, then held up a smaller
mirror to check her back view. "I thought I'd do sweet girly - a song like that
will have more impact, 'cause we sing without any backing track again, today,
don't we?"

"A cappella."

"Yeah, him as well. Then, tomorrow, I'm going to hit
'em with a more sexy one."

"That's a good idea. Let's just hope we get to see
tomorrow, eh?"

"We will!" said Melodie. "Hey, I'm surprised you never
tried out for that Popstars show when they chose Girls Aloud. You're
easily as pretty as Sarah Harding, and probably just as good a singer, too. Can you dance?"

Her heart was in the right place, but Ariel
despaired of her sometimes. Did she really not see the difference between
wanting to be in a girly pop band and being a serious singer-songwriter? "Ah,
that's not really my bag. Anyway, it wouldn't have occurred to me; that
show was on around the time I was living with Frankie and getting ready to go
travelling, I think."

"Oh, yeah. Frankie." Then Melodie grinned, showing
teeth so white that they were practically luminous. "D'you fancy that Will?"

Ariel blushed. "I've got my hands full with Dave. Why, do you?"

Melodie looked away and smiled a secret little
smile. "Not Will, no."

This time, the eighty chosen acts waited all
together, in one big room; the solo performers of all ages, and the bands.

The day had been a long, long one.

The individual auditions themselves had taken
longer, this time; each act sang a whole song, properly filmed for television,
rather than just a two minute extract.

The time was six-thirty in the evening, and still
they knew nothing.

Melodie had sung her Kate Bush song.

Ariel had, she hoped, impressed them with 'Don't
Wait Up', which she'd written at Christmas.

In the afternoon, when it was the turn of the
bands, Thor had performed 'Stampede', which Ritchie still maintained was a poor
man's version of Thin Lizzy's 'Jailbreak'.

They sat, with everyone else, and they waited.

The cameras were in the holding room, too; Melodie
was constantly aware of them, checking the angle of her chin when she laughed, holding
in her already flat stomach when she walked across the room.

"I reckon it's going to be
sayonara
for us,
lads," said Boz. "I don't think that festival woman liked us.  She
kept wrinkling up her nose."

"That's only one," said Dave. "There were three of
them." He felt sick. It was so hard to tell - the judges didn't say anything. It was so frustrating, not like doing a gig, when you could be pretty much
assured of how well you'd been received; here, there was little reaction. Though he was sure Glenn Hunter had been nodding his head to the beat of
'Stampede'.

Dave didn't feel much like a Viking, at that
moment.

"What about us? Do you think I'll get through?"
Melodie said, flicking her hair back.

"Oh, aye," said Boz, and winked at her. "You two, you'll
have no problem."

In the audition room, programme producer Ed
Campion, festival organiser Shelley Mayes, and A&R man Glenn Hunter
examined the Polaroid photos taken of each contestant as they walked into the
room, in the process of whittling down the eighty acts they had seen that day,
to the forty who would perform again on Wednesday.

"Ariel Swan," said Ed. "I quite like her. Hot
contender for the prettiest girl in the world, as well; I just wish she'd look
at the camera."

"Love her," said Glenn Hunter. "She's one of those truly
creative ones, I think. She's got something, for sure."

"Has she?" said Shelley Mayes, sticking out her
bottom lip. "I don't think so. She's like a watered down version of Dido,
and she was watered down enough in the first place."

"Will Corrigan?"

"Gorgeous," said Shelley. "Talk about star quality."

"A bit Shayne Ward, isn't he? I'd say he's a
definite."

"Yeah, but Shayne Ward sank without trace after the
first year. I like this one," said Glenn Hunter, picking up Melodie's photo.
"If we're putting through fifteen from the over twenty-fives, she's got my
vote."

Shelley Mayes laughed. "Glenn, can you think with your
A&R head, not your nether regions? This is a talent show.
Talent.
It's
not The X Factor, we're not seeking pop princesses. I thought we were
discovering new
artistes.
"

"That's not all she is," said Glenn. "We can improve on
the voice.  But I think she's got it."

Ed Campion nodded. "Have to say I'm with Shelley on this
one. If we do put her through, she's going to have to pull something
pretty special out of the bag next time round."

Half an hour later they had selected their thirty
solo artists.

"Right, now the bands," said Ed, as Pink Hair
handed him another selection of Polaroid photos. He leafed through them, and
laughed. "Okay, guys. What do we think about Thor?"

The minutes ticked by, so slowly.

At last, at seven-thirty, Pink Hair appeared once
more, holding a piece of paper.

She smiled around the room and asked for silence;
she hardly needed to. Nobody felt like talking anymore.

"Here we go then," she said, and reiterated that,
out of all those who waited, thirty solo acts had been chosen to go through to
the next round, and just ten bands.  As for the rest, the producers of the
show thanked them for taking part in the Raw Talent experience, but regretted
that their journey had come to an end.

"Blah blah blah," said Ritchie. "I tell you, I'm not doing
this again; I'd rather be at work. This is more nerve-wracking than
standing on a four storey roof in a howling gale."

"Let's all hold hands, it's good karma," said Melodie.

"Okay!" said Pink Hair, and coughed. "Off we go. The names I read out will be the forty acts we want to see again tomorrow." She looked down at the piece of paper. "Will Corrigan
... Womankind ... Kirsty
Craig," she read, taking her time between each name, so much time that the wait
was almost painful. "Athena ... Sarah King ... Wonderwall ... Kai Alexander
... Ariel
Swan ... "

Ariel put her head down, still gripping Dave's hand on one
side and Ritchie's on the other, and tried in vain to hold back the tears.
She'd done it.
She'd got through another round. She had a real
chance, now, at getting on the show, at getting the public to vote for her. At
getting noticed, someone seeing her who might think,
hey, I've got to give
this girl a recording contract!

Twenty-five left to go. Then fifteen.

"Town and Country Club ... Danny Coldham ... Melodie Joy
Valentine ... "

Melodie dropped the hands of both Shane and Boz,
and raised her arms in the air, clasping her hands together as if she were at
football match. "Yess!" she whispered, looking straight ahead.

In front of them, Will Corrigan was comforting a
sobbing Laila Grace, whose name had not yet been called.

Five to go.

"Peaches ... Natalie Garcia ... Thor ... "

Dave looked at Ariel, threw his arms around her,
and wept.

"Aye, I suppose even Vikings have their soft side,"
said Boz, wiping his eyes.

They went to The Lorelei again, this time without Laila
Grace, who'd gone home in tears.

"Poor old Laila," said Ariel, as they sat down. "Could
have been any of us."

"Well, no, it couldn't," said Melodie. "She didn't have
that killer urge."

Ariel laughed. "I haven't got that either! I'm just
lucky they like what I did."

"Don't sell yourself short," said Will, sitting
down next to her. "You deserve it, you're really talented."

"And how would you know that, exactly?" said Dave, "I mean,
she is, but you've never even heard her sing."

Will held his hands up. "Whew, sorry, mate. I just
meant that she must be, to have got this far."

Dave noticed Ariel glance at Will, who gave her an
almost imperceptible nod and wink; yes, he knew the score, and yes, Dave had
clocked him.  What did the smarmy fucker think he was, stupid? Then Will
turned to his other side and started to talk to Ritchie about his Stingray,
instead.

"The last forty!" said Melodie. "Isn't it just fantastic? All of us!"

"Aye, pet, I still cannit believe we all made it,"
said Boz, and they clinked glasses. "Hey, I got talking to the A&R fella's
assistant earlier. Knows a few people I've played with. It's a small
world, this one of rock 'n' roll, isn't it?"

"Yeah!" said Shane. His phone bleeped yet again;
he looked at it, read a text, sat there, deep in thought, for a moment, then answered
with the tap of a few keys, and put it away.

"Kerry?" said Ariel.

"No," he said, and grinned. "Chick I was talking to
earlier, from one of those girl bands - she didn't make it! Called
Cecilia. She's into Bon Jovi; her brother's in a tribute band. Think
she wants some of my bad medicine!"

"Let's hope she
goes down
in a blaze of
glory!" said Ritchie. "Mega!"

"Yeah, but Shane, you give love a bad name," said
Ariel, laughing.

Boz held his hand up. "Okay, let's stop
now,
with
the Bon Jovi puns, shall we?"

"Only because you can't think of one!" said Ritchie.

"Don't need to, man," Boz said. "I'm in a position
of superiority because I'm paying for everyone's bait tonight, okay?" He
winked at Melodie.

Dave Bentley wasn't in the mood for making puns, or
jokes of any sort. He went to the gents, came back, and, yes, just as he'd
suspected, that Will creep was talking to Ariel again.
His
Ariel. Just
as he'd had a good feeling when he first got the idea for Thor, he had a bad
feeling about Will, and it was making him feel very, very uncomfortable indeed.

They started walking back to the Travelodge at about
ten-thirty; everyone agreed with Dave that they shouldn't 'tie one on' that
night, much though they were all in the mood to celebrate. Dave just wanted to
get back to the Travelodge so they could get rid of Will.

Boz caught up with Dave, Ariel, Ritchie and Shane,
who had been walking slightly ahead of him and Melodie.

"Ritchie, mate," he said, slinging an arm around
his shoulder. "How do you fancy bunking up with Shane tonight?"

"You what?" said Ritchie, a look of horror on his
face. They all stopped.

Boz winked at him. "Change of sleeping
arrangements. The Boz Man has got it all sorted." He looked at Dave. "I
imagine you and Ariel wouldn't say no to a room to yourselves, right?"

"Well, yeah."

"Okay," said Boz. "So, you go and sleep with Ariel in the
girls' room, Ritchie takes your bed next to Shane's, and Melodie - "

They all turned to look at her.  Melodie was
leaning against a wall, looking up at the night sky, pretending to be oblivious
to the whole conversation.

"You sneaky Geordie bastard," hissed Shane. "Some mate!"

Boz slapped him on the shoulder. "You've either got it or
you haven't, man! Mind you, she says she'll be wanting to go back to her
own room by six tomorrow morning to get ready for the last audition, so you'd
better make sure you're up and decent, Bentley!"

He walked back to Melodie, put his arm around her and
kissed her.

"Fuck!" said Shane. "How did he manage that?"

Ariel laughed. "Well, what do you expect? You're
getting texts every five minutes from that poor little Kerry, and boasting about
chatting up the Bon Jovi girl - it's not exactly the way to a woman's heart, is
it?"

The started to walk off, leaving Boz and Melodie in
mid snog in a shop doorway.

"I thought if she saw that loads of other birds
were after me, then she'd think I must be something pretty good, and fall flat
on her back." He folded his arms. He really did, Ariel thought, look a bit
miffed. Probably just his stupid ego, she decided.

"It's words like 'birds' and phrases like 'fall
flat on her back' that are the key to your lack of success, I think," said
Ariel. "You're such a prat sometimes, Shane."