Laura Cassidy - Eighteen Kisses

‘Hayley Williams,’ he answered before I’d even finished the sentence.

‘What would you ask her?’

‘To marry me,’ he said, trying to keep a serious face.

I laughed. I had to admit that he was kind of funny too.

‘I can’t believe we get to meet Willis Middleton,’ he said. ‘That’s class.’

‘He’s meant to be crazy,’ I said. ‘Genius on bass though. Do you play anything?’

‘A bit of piano, but not very well,’ he said.

‘Me too. Gran made me learn, but I much prefer guitar.’ She still asks me to play to her occasionally; I think it’s just so she can make sure that I’m still practising.’

‘You should give your demo to Electric ,’ said Dillon. ‘Your stuff is probably so much better than the crap I’ve been listening to all afternoon.’

‘I sent it in to them a while ago,’ I said. ‘Never heard anything though.’

‘I’ll try to find it,’ he said. ‘Move it to the top of the pile.’

My phone beeped and I took it out of my bag. It was a text from Nick.

Hey babe, hope your first day’s going well x

I felt a flood of relief. I was so glad Nick had contacted me. He didn’t mention my angry text from last night at all, but maybe that was a good thing. I’d thought that he might apologize for being cranky, but it was probably best to just forget about it. Every couple has fights; I didn’t have to turn it into a big deal. I was just so happy that everything was OK between us again.

‘Oh gosh, it’s nearly five to!’ I said, spotting the clock on my phone. Dillon and I had been chatting so much that I hadn’t noticed the time pass.

‘We better get goin’,’ said Dillon, gulping down the rest of his Coke.

I rushed out after him, devouring the last bit of my crêpe as I ran.

After work I wandered around town for a while. I was due to meet up with Matt, but that wasn’t for another hour, so I had some time to kill. He’d called me earlier, during my afternoon coffee break, and said he wanted to introduce me to some of the other members of Operation Trail, and also to Kayla’s other half-sister, Hazel. We were going to meet in Rage Rock Bar, where Hazel worked, and where Electric were having their unsigned gig next week. I’d heard lots about the bar before, but I’d never actually been inside it because they were really strict on IDs. It was famous for its Acoustic Tuesdays – on the first Tuesday of every month a different musician would play a live acoustic set. But the cool thing was you never knew who the artist was going to be until they walked out on stage. So you could get a local singer-songwriter, a famous frontman or an international superstar. The guy who owned Rage apparently knew everybody in the music business, so people like Bruce Springsteen and Joni Mitchell had played there in the past. I was really looking forward to visiting it.

As I walked around, I decided to go to a charity shop, the one where I’d found my vintage microphone and pink typewriter. I love browsing in second-hand shops because you find really cool stuff that nobody else has. You have to do some serious rooting though, because the best things are the hardest to find. As I stepped inside, the woman at the counter smiled at me, then turned her attention to the broken porcelain owl that she was gluing back together. Its head had become detached from its body.

I sifted through the clothes, the hangers scraping against the steel rail as I pushed dated blouses and sequined tops aside. There was a musty smell in the air – the kind you just can’t shake from a collection of old objects. I spotted a grey Janis Joplin T-shirt hidden under a denim shirt, and took it out to have a look. It was a little bit big for me, but at one euro it was an absolute bargain, so I decided to buy it. I also looked through the small stack of books they had, searching for any music biographies. I still had lots at home that I hadn’t had a chance to finish yet, but I liked adding to my collection because they were my favourite things to read. There weren’t any this time, but I found a Definitive Guide to Manga for two euro and bought it for Colin.

As I was leaving the shop, my phone started to ring. I thought it might be Sergeant Lawlor. I searched through all the stuff in my bag and finally found it, but it wasn’t him calling me, it was Hannah.

‘Hey,’ I said.

‘You have some nerve.’

‘Um… what?’ I had no idea what she was talking about.

‘When were you going to tell me that you’re in Dublin?’ she said, sounding very annoyed.

‘Oh, sorry, Han, I’ve just been crazy busy and -’

‘Do you know who I had to find out from? Mark. My brother knows more about you than I do.’

He must have been talking to Dillon. I’d forgotten how fast news travels around here.

‘I’m doing work experience,’ I said. ‘It was sort of a last-minute thing.’

‘Yeah, I heard. You’re working at Electric ? You kept that quiet. Like… when did this happen?’

‘I only found out the other day; I’ve just been really busy.’ I’d been so caught up in the case I hadn’t even thought to tell Hannah that I was in town.

‘Are you too busy to hang out now?’

‘Well, actually, I have to -’

Hannah did one of her dramatic sighs.

‘Tomorrow,’ I gave in. ‘I’ll meet you after school?’

‘Fine!’ she said, and then hung up. I wasn’t worried – she never stayed mad for long.

I put my phone in my bag and headed for Temple Bar.

I walked through the cobbled streets, past the buskers and groups of tourists, until I arrived at Rage Rock Bar. In the window there was a faded missing-person poster of Kayla, the same picture I had in my bag. Tape was peeling away from the poster’s corners. I pushed open the door and stepped into an almost empty pub. A girl stood in front of the bar. She wore black skinny jeans, a studded belt and a Clash T-shirt. She was quite a bit taller than me, and her black hair was cut into a blunt bob. She was beautiful.

‘Jacki, right?’ she said with a smile.

‘Yeah; you must be Hazel,’ I said as I closed the door behind me. The floor was covered in a kind of transparent plastic and underneath it were thousands of guitar plecs, all scattered around. On the walls there were photographs of all the musicians who had played there over the years, signed and securely nailed in place. Each table was made of two old amps pushed together, and the place mats were iconic album covers. All this was pretty cool, but my eyes were transfixed on the back wall, staring at the best thing in the entire place.

‘Is that an -’

‘Original Thin Lizzy stage sign?’ said Hazel. ‘Yep. One of only three ever made.’

‘Oh, my gosh,’ I said. It was so striking. The letters of the band’s name were made from lots of small square mirrored tiles; a few were broken or missing, but that only added to its charm. And round the edges of the letters were little light bulbs.

‘I’ll turn it on,’ said Hazel, and a few seconds later it was illuminated, the lights reflecting off the glass, making the whole thing sparkle in the most magnificent way.

‘Wow,’ I said. This sign had actually hung behind Thin Lizzy when they’d played on tour, and now I was standing right in front of it.

‘You a Lizzy fan?’ said Hazel, motioning to my T-shirt.

‘Yeah, possibly their biggest fan,’ I said. ‘Are you?’

‘I think they’re deadly,’ she said. ‘But Kayla is way more into them than me.’

For a moment I’d forgotten why I was there. It didn’t feel right to stare at the sign any longer, so I turned back round.

‘Sergeant Lawlor called,’ she said. ‘He mentioned they’re running a little bit late, but they’ll be here soon. Can I get you something to eat? We have fries, burgers… I’ll show you a menu.’