Page 17 of I Would Die for You

“She wastaken,” I hiss under my breath. “She’s not going to be conveniently dropped back to our boat.”

He fixes me with an unmoving stare, as if questioning why I wouldn’t want to explore every avenue. “If she’s been left somewhere by someone who has grown tired of this sick game, then the boat might be the place she’d go if she can’t make her way home.”

His rambling thoughts strike a chord I don’t want to hear. “Is that what you think this is?” I snap, though my frustration isn’t aimed at him. “That someone’s playing agamewith us?”

“I hope that’s all it is,” he chokes, as he runs a frantic hand through his hair. “Because the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.”

I force both his alternative, and the resounding voice that this is all my fault, to the back of my mind as I race down the jetty, willing life into Brad’s theory. He could be right; this could all be a bad judgment call instigated by a disgruntled resident who has bitten off more than they can chew. Maybe they wanted to teach me a lesson, to make me realize that I should be focusing more on my daughter’s well-being than that of the seals. And as I near the boat, I don’t doubt that they might be right, and vow that from this point onward that’s exactly what I’ll do. But as I rip the tarp cover off and catch sight of Hannah’s pink windbreaker, I wonder if I’ll ever get the chance.

9

LONDON, 1986

Despite intending for them to go to the Secret Oktober concert together, Cassie had long since realized that her mother wouldn’t be well enough. Still, she’d refused to give her ticket to anyone else in the vain hope that Gigi would somehow muster the energy at the last minute. But as she peers around her parents’ bedroom door, keeping everything crossed, it seems that no amount of wishful thinking could get her mother to sit up, let alone leave the house, and Cassie can’t help but feel crushed by an overwhelming sadness.

“I’m off,” she says quietly, hoping she can’t be heard over the rise and fall of the oxygen cylinder.

But her mother is more astute than she gives her credit for. “Where to?” comes a fragile voice.

Cassie sucks in a breath, consumed with guilt for something she has no control over.

“I-I’m going to the Secret Oktober concert…” she starts, knowing that her mother’s disappointment will match her own.

“What? Withoutme?” murmurs Gigi. “Pass me my pink suit and I’ll meet you downstairs in ten minutes.”

Whether it’s her wicked sense of humor talking or a drug-induced confusion, Cassie isn’t sure, but bizarrely she finds herself waiting in the hallway, part of her willing her mum to appear beside her so acutely that it seems impossible that it won’t happen. But ten minutes later she solemnly gives up on a miracle and silently lets herself out of the house.

By the time she gets to Wembley Arena, the queue is already depressingly long, stretching around at least two corners of the huge building, without an end in sight. She scans the line, searching for Amelia’s face among the crowd, hoping that she’s nearer the front than the back.

“Cassie!” comes an ear-splitting screech. “Over here!”

Cassie ducks under the rope that Amelia is holding up, issuing hollow apologies as disgruntled moans ring out from those behind. Though they quickly dissipate when one of the windowless arena’s doors begins to open. It’s slow, painfully slow, as if even the staff are playing the game—ramping up the tension within an already restless crowd. High-pitched screams ring out as a random steward pokes his bald head out. Frustrated groans follow when he ducks back in and closes the door again.

By the time the whispers have reached the queue around the corner, word is that it was Ben Edwards himself who had appeared, which sends the line surging forward, forcing decisive action.

“No running!” the gatekeeper shouts pointlessly as the doors swing open and a thousand hysterical girls fight to get through the six-foot square entrance.

Amelia takes Cassie’s hand and they sprint with burning lungs across the concourse, through the doors marked “Arena Floor” and out into the hallowed magnificence of the empty auditorium. Cassie momentarily falters, wanting to take it all in, but bodies are running at her like wild horses, threatening to trample anything that stands in their way.

“Come on!” shouts Amelia, pulling on her hand.

It’s not until they’ve reached the barrier by the stage, gripping it with white knuckles, that it occurs to Cassie that they’ll have to stand their ground for the next two hours until Secret Oktober come on—though having Amelia there makes the time go surprisingly quickly, with new friends being made thanks to her envy-inducing stories of hanging out with the band.

“How do you know where they’re next going to be?” asks one girl, as Cassie flips through a photo album that Amelia has brought with her. Each slip-in pocket displays another picture of her with a band member at the airport, at the recording studio, at their hotel.

Amelia shrugs casually. “At the beginning, it was a game of cat and mouse. I had to keep reinventing the wheel, because they caught on.”

“Caught on to what?” Cassie asks.

“To my genius,” says Amelia, without an iota of irony. “They thought they were being clever, checking into hotels under false names, but they hadn’t reckoned on me setting off the fire alarm.”

Cassie’s mouth drops open. “You set off afire alarm?”

“It’s easy,” says Amelia, nonchalantly. “One night, I did three different hotels to find out where they were. And the looks on their faces when they all had to congregate on Park Lane so they could be accounted for!” She throws her head back and laughs. “That’s how I found out they were using cartoon names because Ben said his name was Donald Duck.”

“That is well impressive,” says Cassie, in awe of her new friend’s ingenuity and chutzpah. “But how do you get away with it with your parents? If my dad found out I’d done something like that…” She blows out her cheeks and shakes her head.

“Oh, my mum’s the same,” says Amelia. “I’m an only child and since she and my dad split up, it’s just been the two of us. She loves me so much, but sometimes it can be suffocating…”

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