Fizzypop (7 page)

“Of course –” she said it bravely – “if there
is
a letter it probably won't be anything like this one.”

“You never know,” I said. “It might be. Are you…” I waved at the folder. “Are you planning on adding anything else?”

“Like what? What sort of things d'you think I could add?” She leant forward, excitedly. “I thought of more photographs. Ones when she was younger? Like my age? And maybe she'd have left me a school report, or something, so I'd know what kind of things she was good at. See if they're the kind of things I'm good at. That'd be interesting, wouldn't it? Don't you think?”

I said, “Yes. Why not?” But I can't have sounded very convincing cos Jem suddenly dropped her gaze and began plucking at the duvet.

“I know it's only pretend,” she muttered. “But it's all I've got!”

On the way home I called Skye on my mobile.

“You know we were talking about Jem being obsessed?” I said. “Well, it's getting worse!” I told her about the folder and the letter.

“Hm. Acting out her fantasies,” said Skye.

“But I think she really believes them! She says it's only pretend, but then she says it's all she's got.”

“I dunno what we can do.”

“We've got to help her find her birth mum!”

But how, that was the problem?

Chapter Seven

Next day, which was Saturday, I found myself in the bathroom with Mum, explaining how it couldn't possibly have been me that had left the hot tap running cos last time I'd used it the water had come out boiling hot and I'd got burnt, so now I only used the cold.

“I wash in
cold water
,” I said. “It's good for you! And it saves on electricity.”

“Whereas leaving the tap running does anything but,” said Mum.

“Well, exactly! That's why I wouldn't do it. Ooh, that must be the post!” Rags had started his postman bark at the front door. “I'll get it!”

Apart from the fact that I enjoy collecting letters off the front door mat, I was glad to get away before Mum could start falsely accusing me. I wasn't the one that wasted water! Even if I'd turned the hot tap on by mistake, which I just might have done, I'd have quickly turned it back off. I wouldn't want to get burnt again, would I?

I hurtled down the stairs to find Rags busily ripping and tearing at something. Fortunately it was the local paper, not the post, but I still yelled at him.

“Rags! Get off!”

I like the local paper, it has interesting headlines. Like last week it had been,
DOCTORS CURED MY SON'S FLAT HEAD
. This week it was,
RAT THE SIZE OF CAT IN WOMAN'S BACK GARDEN
, except I couldn't get to read about it cos of Rags having torn the front page to shreds.

“Stupid dog!” I said, but he only grinned, like it was some big joke. He never takes me seriously.

I sat at the foot of the stairs to read what was left. Mostly sport and cars. I'm not into either of them, so I chucked the pages at Rags, who immediately jumped on them and began his shredding act. Near the back of the paper there's a page called
YOUTH CULTURE
. That is more my sort of thing. Rags had torn it down the middle, so I fitted the pieces together – and had a bit of a shock. Cos there, staring up at me, was a girl who looked incredibly like the drawing Jem had done of her birth mum. There was a long interview with her, taking up half the page, under the heading
LOCAL GIRL MAKES GOOD
.

Her name was Mia Jelena, and it seemed she was some kind of a singer.

“Have you ever heard of her?” I asked Angel, who had just rudely shoved past me on her way down the stairs.

“Who?” She peered over my shoulder. “Mia Jelena? Of course I've heard of her! She's famous. Hey, give me that!”

She made a grab at the paper, but I whisked it out of her way.

“I got it first!”

“Looks like that dog got it first.”

“He likes to read things,” I said. “He's an intellectual. You can have it when I'm through.”

“Well, just don't take all day!”

“I won't,” I said. “I'm a very fast reader.”

But by the time I came to the end of the article I'd forgotten all about Angel. My heart was pumping, furiously. The blood was pounding in my ears. I'd solved Jem's mystery!

It was all there, in front of me,
printed in the paper.
It couldn't be clearer! I forced myself to stay calm – a little bit calm – and started to read the article again, more slowly, this time, just to make sure. I wouldn't want to get Jem's hopes up for nothing.

It's only been a few months since singer Mia Jelena released her first attention-grabbing album,
Gonna Get Going
, for Pineapple Records, but already she's being hailed as the new Queen of Soul. Now she's back with album no. 2,
There's Got to be Love
, and she's coming to the Daycroft Halls on 15
^th
December as part of a nationwide tour to celebrate her success.

I asked Mia how it felt, to be coming back to the town where she grew up and where, as she herself has admitted, life was not always easy. She agrees that it wasn't, but says that that is all behind her.

“I can look back now and remember the good times, not just the bad.”

I ask her what the good times were, and she says, “Mainly school. I went to Hillcrest and I made lots of really great friends there, though I didn't always behave as well as I should. I used to get into lots of trouble for talking too much and not paying attention. I was a bit of a naughty girl in those days!”

And the bad times? She doesn't shy away from the question.

“The bad times,” she says, “were being in a children's home and then with foster parents. We didn't really get on. I can see now that it was probably my fault as much as theirs, but we had absolutely nothing in common and it made for a very difficult few years.”

“I believe you actually left home when you were only sixteen?”

“Yes, I did.”

“That's a very young age to strike out on your own.”

“I just felt like I had no alternative. Something happened… I got into a bit of trouble. I knew I couldn't turn to my foster parents. I was desperate! I had to get away.”

“Can I ask where you went?”

“I didn't really go anywhere, in the sense of heading for any particular place. To start off with, I just drifted, until in the end I found my way to London. Inevitable, really.” She pulls a face. “Where else does a runaway go? We all think the streets there are paved with gold.”

“But you survived.”

“I think I had a certain toughness which made me grit my teeth and just get on with things. I scraped a living. I worked in clubs, I worked in shops… One thing I was determined not to do, and that was to give up and go crawling back home with my tail between my legs. Little did I think…” She laughs, a rich gurgle of amusement. “Little did I think that one day I'd be returning as a minor celeb!”

I say, “Not so minor,” and she shrugs a shoulder.

I ask her if she had always wanted to be a singer. She says that she always made a lot of noise. “I don't know if you'd call it singing!” But then she stops, and thinks about it, and says that is not quite true.

“I did used to sing. All the time. Just not in the school choir, you know? I'm not sure I ever consciously thought about the future, but I guess I always knew I was destined for show business in one form or another. I used to get into a whole load of trouble with my foster parents for what they called showing off. Making myself obvious. They didn't approve. I remember my foster mother once complaining that I never stopped fizzing and bubbling. I guess I still don't. The difference is that now I get paid for it!”

Reflecting on her path to fame Mia says that the most important thing for her was that she never gave up.

“No matter what happened, I never lost sight of my goal. I was at my lowest ebb when I ran away, I thought my life was over, but in fact it was just beginning. Sheer determination carried me through.”

Omigod! I could hardly contain myself. I felt like rushing round to Jem's straight away, but remembered just in time that she wouldn't be there. They were all going off for the weekend to stay with her nan and granddad. They wouldn't be back, Jem had said, till late on Sunday evening. Oh bother, bother, bother,
bother
! I would burst if I didn't tell someone.

Maybe I could ring Skye? But that wouldn't be fair; Jem ought to be the one to hear first. I banged my fist down on the floor.

“Damnation and curses and picture skew oaths!”

“I think you'll find that word is pronounced
picturesque
,” said Dad, coming out of the front room. “
Picture-esk.
”

Rather huffily I said, “Whatever.”

“Very colourful language, coming from you!”

“It's instead of swearing,” I said. “I didn't think you'd like it if I used swear words.”

“I'd be shocked if you knew any.”

“I know plenty!” I shouted, as he went past me up the stairs.

“Please,” said Dad, “don't ruin my illusions. What's to swear about, anyway?”

“I've just discovered something totally earth-shattering and I can't tell anybody!”

“Why can't you? Is it a state secret?”

“No! It's cos Jem's gone away and she's the one that has to know first and I won't see her until Monday!”

“Well, just remember,” said Dad, “patience is a virtue.”

I have lots of virtues. I do! I really do. Not boasting, but I am very loyal to my friends and hardly ever lose my temper and am extremely tolerant of other people's annoying faults and failings. I just find it VERY DIFFICULT to be patient.

I went up to my room, accompanied by Rags, and read the article yet again, just to make absolutely certain I wasn't imagining things. But I wasn't! I sellotaped the torn edges, took a red felt tip pen out of my school bag and began underlining all the important parts.

Local girl… went to Hillcrest… left home when you were only sixteen… got into a bit of trouble… NEVER STOPPED FIZZING AND BUBBLING.
I underlined that bit three times and put a row of exclamation marks at the side. I couldn't wait for Monday morning to arrive!

But then, guess what? Monday morning comes at last – and
Jem isn't there.
Not at our usual meeting place on the way to school. She's late. Again!

“I'm not waiting,” said Skye.

“Just a few more minutes,” I begged.

“
No.
” Skye set off without so much as a backward glance. I hovered a moment, then reluctantly went trailing after her.

“Did you see the local paper?” I said.

“No,” said Skye. “Did you do your maths homework?”

I dismissed my maths homework with an airy flick of the hand. Last week I'd forgotten to do it and had been put in the dreaded Book with a black mark against my name. So what? Who cared? There were more important things to think about!

“I read this really interesting article,” I said.

“About what?”

“About this singer? Mia Jelena?”

“Never heard of her.”

“Angel has. She says she's famous. There's a picture of her… I've brought it in to show you. Well… show Jem, really. She's the one I've brought it for. And the article. You'll never believe what it says!”

“What?”

I sucked in my breath. “Can't tell you! I shouldn't even be talking about it. Not without Jem.”

We both turned, and looked back the way we had come.

“Seems like you'll have to wait till break,” said Skye.

“I've been waiting all weekend! I was going to call her, but they'd gone away. I nearly called you, only I thought p'raps it wouldn't be fair. You see, it's about her birth mum… I think I might have solved the mystery!”

Well, at least I had her attention. Skye stopped, and frowned. “How?”

“It's no good, I can't tell you! It's in the article.”

“Just give me a hint.”

“No, I can't.” I shook my head. “But it's more than coincidence. It's got to be!”

“What is?” said Skye. “
What
is more than coincidence?”

“What it says. I can't tell you!”

She nagged at me all the way to school, but I wouldn't say a word. Like I say, I am very loyal to my friends. Jem would never forgive me if I let Skye into the secret of my amazing discovery without her being there to share it.

I was just terrified in case Jem wasn't going to be in school at all that day, cos loyal though I am I wasn't sure how much longer I could last before my mouth went and opened of its own accord and everything came spilling out. It wasn't right that Skye kept poking and prying! She shouldn't have been tempting me like that.

When I hissed at her about it, under cover of Mrs Gently taking registration, she got all high and mighty and hissed back that I shouldn't ever have mentioned anything in the first place.

“If you'd just kept
quiet
—”

“I thought I could trust you!”

Fortunately, before a situation could develop, the door had opened a crack and Jem had come sidling in, hoping, no doubt, that Mrs Gently (who is a bit dozy) wouldn't have noticed her absence. She didn't! Quite extraordinary. I immediately scribbled a note and pushed Skye out of the way so I could shove it across the desk to Jem.

Sumthing 2 tell U at break!!!

Jem mouthed at me. “What?”

I couldn't mouth back at her as Skye had meanly sat up very stiff and straight and blocked my view. She was doing it on purpose! In a huff cos I hadn't let her into the secret.

The minute the bell rang for break we headed for our private corner.

“She's been driving me mad,” said Skye. “She's discovered something and she won't say what!”

“I told you,” I said, “we had to wait for Jem.”

“Well, so now she's here, so you can tell us!”

“Before I do—” Skye groaned, and rolled her eyes. “Before I
do,
” I said, turning to Jem, “have you ever heard of Mia Jelena?”

“No,” said Jem. “Who is she?”

“It's who she
might
be,” I said. I folded the paper so that only the photograph could be seen. Jem gazed at it, wonderingly. “Do you recognise it?”

“N-no… I don't think so.”

“It looks a bit like you,” said Skye.

Hah! I knew I hadn't been imagining it.

“You don't think you could have seen it somewhere and that's what made you do that drawing?” I said. “That drawing of your birth mum?”

“No.” Jem was very positive. “That came out of my head.”

“Is she the singer?” said Skye, pointing at the photo.

“Yes. She's the Queen of Soul, and she's coming to the Daycroft Halls on 15
^th
December. She's coming back to where she used to live… See?” I flashed the headline at them. “
LOCAL GIRL MAKES GOOD
. Shall I read it to you? I'll read it to you!”