Playlist for a Broken Heart Read online

  Other books by Cathy Hopkins

  Love At Second Sight

  Series by Cathy Hopkins

  Million Dollar Mates

  Mates, Dates

  Truth, Dare, Kiss or Promise

  Cinnamon Girl

  Zodiac Girls

  First published in Great Britain in 2014 by Simon and Schuster UK Ltd

  A CBS COMPANY

  Copyright © 2014 Cathy Hopkins

  This book is copyright under the Berne Convention.

  No reproduction without permission.

  All rights reserved.

  The right of Cathy Hopkins to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  Simon & Schuster UK Ltd

  1st Floor, 222 Gray’s Inn Road

  London

  WC1X 8HB

  Simon & Schuster Australia, Sydney

  Simon & Schuster India, New Delhi

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  PB ISBN: 978-1-4711-1791-6

  EBook ISBN: 978-1-4711-1792-3

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY

  www.simonandschuster.co.uk

  www.simonandschuster.com.au

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter One

  ‘Here we go,’ whispered Allegra.

  I held my breath and waited for Mr Collins, our drama teacher, to read out who had got parts in the end-of-year play. Everyone who’d auditioned was standing near the wooden stage in the school hall. It smelt of beeswax and lavender from the polish used by the cleaners who’d started the evening clear-up behind us. Please, please let me get Juliet, I prayed.

  I’d been rehearsing for weeks with my friend, Allegra, reading all the other parts so I could get it just right. She’s a good mate and knows that it means a lot to me. I’ve come so close to getting a lead role in school productions before but never quite made it – always the bridesmaid, never the bride sort of thing. I also have an ulterior motive for wanting the lead female role this time and that is that I’m pretty sure that Alex Taylor, love of my life, though he doesn’t know it yet, will probably play Romeo.

  Everyone thinks it’s in the bag that he’ll get it because, apart from being a good actor, he’s classically good-looking with soft brown hair that curls at his shoulders. If he gets the part, whoever plays opposite him will get to spend a lot of time with him. Normally I am not boy mad like Allegra and so many other girls my age. I think there’s more to life than drooling over some stupid boy, but Alex is different. He’s clever and motivated and just thinking about the scenes where Romeo and Juliet have to kiss makes my toes curl. So please, please let Alex Taylor get the part of Romeo.

  Mr Collins glanced over our group, all of us ready to put on a cheerful face if we didn’t get a part.

  ‘Romeo. Alex Taylor,’ he read. Alex, who was standing in front of me to the right, punched the air and grinned. I felt a rush of excitement – so far so good. Allegra glanced over and gave me the thumbs-up.

  ‘Juliet. Paige Lord.’

  Ohmigod. I’d got it! I felt elated and relieved at the same time. All that hard work had been worth it.

  ‘Yay,’ exclaimed Allegra and gave me a hug. I felt myself blush as everyone turned to look, even more so when Alex glanced round to see who I was. I immediately looked at the floor and cursed that I didn’t have the nerve to look him in the eye and hold his gaze, the way an article about how to flirt in last week’s Teen Vogue had advised. Make the connection, it had said. Look him in the eye that moment too long and, when you feel a charge of electricity, hold it another few moments and then look away. So I’ve blown that, I thought.

  Up until today, I don’t think Alex has even noticed me despite me accidentally-on-purpose walking past him a million times in the corridor. It’s the only place I see him because he’s in Year Twelve and I’m in Year Ten and the sixth formers have their own common room. But all that is about to change. Now that we’re playing the lead roles, he has no choice but to notice me. We’ll be acting the parts of one of the most famous romantic couples in history. We’ll be rehearsing together for months, up until the performance just before we break up for the summer. I call that a result with a capital R.

  When Allegra and I left school later, I was on cloud nine. It had been an excellent day. Besides hearing that I’d got the part of Juliet, some pieces from my art project had been chosen to hang in the reception hall. I’d been working on a series of portraits from some photographs I’d taken on the London streets over the Christmas holidays. On top of that, I’d got an A star for an English essay, and the cherry on the cake was that, after Mr Collins’ announcement about the parts, Jason Rice, who would be Tybalt in the play, had suggested that the whole cast get together over the Easter holidays for a party at his house. My future had never looked brighter and it felt like I was about to embark on an exciting new chapter in my life.

  ‘I knew you’d get it,’ said Allegra. ‘With your long dark hair and brown eyes, you have an Italian look. And you’re tall like Alex so you’ll look good together. Plus – don’t take this the wrong way – you have a sort of innocence about you that I think worked in your favour too.’

  ‘I have a sort of innocence about me because I am innocent! Not that I want to be. I mean, it’s pathetic really. Fifteen and never had a proper boyfriend, unlike you, Miss Experienced.’

  ‘You just haven’t met the right boy. Playing opposite Romeo will be a good place to start, and for someone who’s shy like you, it will be the perfect opportunity to get some confidence,’ said Allegra. She was much more savvy about relationships than I was. Slim but curvy, blonde and cool, she attracted boys while I stood by, feeling tongue-tied and awkward. It was weird. I was fine if I was acting because it wasn’t really me, so I didn’t clam up like I did when I had to speak to boys in normal life. Acting a part in a play was like wearing a mask that I could hide behind.

  ‘It will, won’t it? It’s a great chance to get in with Alex. Life would be perfect if Mum and Dad would sort out whatever it is that’s been bugging them,’ I said as we waited in the car park for her mum to pick us up. There had been a weird atmosphere at home lately, which of course I’d told Allegra all about because I had to talk to someone about it.

  ‘How’s that going?’ Allegra asked. ‘Still no idea what it’s about?’

  ‘The only thing I can think of that makes sense is
that they’re getting divorced,’ I replied. I’d known that something was wrong with my parents for a few months, though nothing had been said. Dad had been more absent than usual and then quiet when he was home, whereas Mum was acting cheerful but something about her manner didn’t ring true.

  ‘Sounds like it,’ she agreed. ‘Are they arguing a lot?’

  ‘Not that I’ve heard. But they both go silent the minute I enter the room as if they have a secret, but not a nice one like a surprise party or holiday. Whatever. I’m not going to let them ruin my mood.’

  ‘Good because this is your day,’ said Allegra. ‘It’s probably nothing. You know what parents are like – there’s always something stupid bugging them. They’re going to be over the moon when you give them your news.’

  ‘They will,’ I replied. I couldn’t wait to get home and tell them.

  Chapter Two

  Mum and Dad were in the hall at home waiting for me when I arrived back from school.

  ‘Where’ve you been, Paige?’ asked Dad.

  ‘Drama. I told Mum I’d be late. I got the part!’ I said. I was dying to share my news but as I waited for the congratulations and questions, I saw that what I’d said hadn’t registered with either of them.

  ‘Come and sit down, Paige,’ said Dad. ‘We need to talk to you about something.’

  ‘Let her get a cup of tea or something,’ said Mum. ‘She’s only just got in.’

  They were both acting so seriously, it was beginning to freak me out.

  ‘No. I’m fine,’ I said. ‘I don’t need anything. Just tell me what’s happened. Has someone died? Gran or Grandpa?’

  ‘Nothing like that,’ said Mum. ‘Let’s all go into the sitting room.’ I followed them in from the hall and we sat down, Mum and Dad next to each other on the sofa and me in one of the armchairs opposite. All of us took a deep breath and the room felt heavy with the weight of the unspoken words in the air.

  A feeling of dread hit me as I looked at their faces. I had to break the uncomfortable silence. ‘I know what you’re going to say,’ I blurted.

  Mum looked taken aback. ‘You do?’ she asked.

  I nodded. ‘You’re getting a divorce. But before you do, have you thought of trying counselling?’ A few girls in our class had parents who had got divorced so it was often the topic of conversation in school lunch breaks, and I remembered that Phoebe Marshall’s parents had been to Relate then stayed together – until her mum ran off with her skiing coach.

  A glimmer of a smile crossed Dad’s face. ‘We’re not getting divorced, Paige. No getting rid of me that easy.’

  ‘Ohmigod. One of you has cancer,’ I said. Another classmate, Mary Philip’s mum had breast cancer last year, but they got it in time and she’s OK now. Maybe there was hope.

  ‘No, we don’t have cancer either,’ said Dad. He looked at Mum again and gave a small shrug. ‘Do you want to tell her or shall I?’

  ‘I will,’ said Mum. ‘So, Paige. It’s not so bad. It’s er . . . it’s just that . . . our circumstances have changed. We . . .’

  I listened as words came out of her mouth and then Dad’s, but as they spoke I felt like part of me left the room. My body was there, ears listening, eyes seeing, but everything took on a dreamlike quality, not real at all. I got the gist of what they were telling me though. My whole life was going to change big time. Big time. And not in a good way.

  I’ve never been totally clear on what Dad actually does, although he’s tried to explain a number of times. Finances. Something to do with shares and investments. He’s always done well at it, that I do know, because we live in a fabulous detached house with a huge garden by the river in Richmond. Dad drives a Mercedes, Mum a Porsche. I go to one of the best private schools in the country and we have two five-star holidays a year. Not any more, I was hearing. Dad’s lost everything and had to declare himself bankrupt.

  What? That’s not possible, I thought, then told myself to keep listening. This was important. Some investments went badly wrong, and he’d put the house up as collateral, and it seems we’ve lost that too and we have to vacate in a month’s time. Nothing is left but a big bad debt.

  I felt totally in shock, like someone had just knocked a hole in me.

  ‘We can’t have lost everything,’ I said. ‘It can’t be true.’

  ‘I’m afraid it is,’ said Dad.

  ‘But you must have savings?’

  ‘All gone,’ said Dad.

  ‘So . . . so what does this mean exactly?’ I asked.

  Dad glanced over at Mum. I’d never seen him like this before – uncertain, unshaven and pale. Usually he was Mr Sure of Himself, out the door at six in the morning, dressed in a suit and tie, dark hair slicked back and shining. He had a glow about him. A glow that said, ‘I am a successful and very wealthy man’. Not today though. Today he looked dejected, broken even.

  ‘It means we’re going to be moving,’ Mum said with a false smile, her voice in the higher pitch she always used when she wasn’t happy about something. As I studied her, she looked her usual immaculate self, her make-up impeccable, her highlighted blonde hair freshly blow-dried as it was always was on a Friday, ready for the weekend. However, I could see shadows under her eyes like she hadn’t slept properly. ‘We’re going to go to Bath to live with my sister.’

  ‘Moving? To Bath? Aunt Karen?’

  Mum nodded.

  ‘For how long?’

  ‘Until . . .’ Mum looked at Dad. ‘Until we can make other arrangements.’

  ‘But that’s insane,’ I blurted.

  ‘That it may be, but that’s what’s happening,’ said Dad wearily.

  ‘Do you mean for a few days or weeks?’ I asked.

  ‘A permanent move, Paige,’ said Mum. ‘We’re leaving London.’

  ‘Permanent? No. But why? This is our home. When? It doesn’t make sense. This is a wind-up, isn’t it? You’re having me on.’

  ‘I wish we were,’ said Mum. ‘We’ll be going in a few weeks.’

  ‘Few weeks? No. I can’t leave my school now.’

  Mum looked like she was going to cry and I felt as if I might too. ‘It’s the last thing we want to happen, believe me Paige, but luckily we’ve found a school in Bath that has the same syllabus. It’s called Queensmead. It has a very good reputation.’

  I didn’t want to hear about a new school. I didn’t want to hear about moving – especially not today, which had been the best day of my life until I got home. ‘No. Dad, you can fix it can’t you?’

  ‘Not this time, baby girl,’ said Dad sadly. ‘Believe me, I’ve tried, I really have, and I’m afraid we have no choice. We have to go.’

  ‘Can’t Gran or Grandpa lend you money?’

  Dad shook his head. ‘Not the amount we need, and anyway I wouldn’t take their savings, especially not at this time of their lives.’

  This could not be happening. Not now. I was going to be Juliet. Alex was going to be Romeo. I liked my school. I liked our life. ‘But why can’t we move in London? Everyone we know is here. We have to stay. What about school?’

  ‘We can’t afford to stay in London and we can’t afford the school fees any more,’ said Mum in a clipped voice.

  ‘But you’ve paid until the end of the year, haven’t you? So I have to stay.’

  ‘Due to the circumstances, the school has been kind enough to reimburse the fees for the last term,’ said Dad.

  I felt a wave of anxiety as I pictured the scene – Dad having to go to my headmaster. It must have been excruciating for him.

  ‘Bath will be great, Paige. You’ll love it. It will be a new start for all of us. A new place, new people to meet, and it will be lovely spending some time with Karen and her family. It’s been ages since we had some proper time with her. I bet we won’t miss London for a second once we get settled in.’ She couldn’t fool me. She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  ‘Are you saying that we’re . . . we’re poor?’

  Mum glanced nervous
ly at Dad. ‘Not poor exactly,’ she said. ‘Just our circumstances have changed and we have to make some cutbacks.’

  Moving in with Aunt Karen. Losing our lovely house. That sounds like poor to me, I thought as I looked at Dad, willing him to take charge, but he was just staring at the floor as though he wished he could be anywhere else but here with Mum and I having this conversation.

  My mind went into a spin as the implications hit me. Moving meant leaving my friends, Allegra, my bedroom with the window that looked out over the river. I’d be leaving my life. And Alex Taylor. Alex Taylor, and just after he’d noticed me. It was too cruel. Tragic.

  And live with Aunt Karen? There were six of them, eight if you counted the dog and cat. Aunt Karen, Uncle Mike, Tasmin, Jake, Joe and Simon. We hadn’t ever stayed over with them the few times we’d visited because they didn’t have room, and we hadn’t even been down that way for years, not since I was nine or ten. Not that Mum isn’t close to her sister, she is – they’re always on the phone to each other – but everyone gets together at Christmas or for birthday celebrations at Gran and Grandpa’s in Surrey. How could we possibly be going to live with Aunt Karen and Uncle Mike? From what I remembered, they’d moved since we were there and their new house sounded tiny. Terraced. Four bedrooms and one bathroom. We had four bathrooms, one each for Mum, Dad and I and one for the guest suite.

  ‘But there’s no room there. There are six of them in that minuscule house,’ I said.

  ‘It will only be temporary, until your dad and I get jobs and we can find our own place to live,’ said Mum.

  ‘You’re going to work?’ I asked.

  Mum has never worked, not in a job. Not that she was idle. She was always doing something – Pilates on a Monday, watercolour painting on Tuesday, cooking class on Wednesday, ladies’ lunch on Thursday followed by a meeting for one of the charities she runs, and Friday shopping, the hairdresser’s and beautician with her friend. She was always busy but she’d never had a paid job. She hadn’t needed to.

  Mum nodded. ‘I’ll find something.’ As she said this, I saw Dad wince.

  ‘I’ll find something,’ he said. ‘I’ll get us out of this mess.’