Eighteen Kisses Read online

  ‘He sent us a few tracks,’ she said. ‘They’re awesome.’

  Dillon seemed impressed that I knew about his solo venture. Not that I cared.

  He resumed scribbling away, his face intense with concentration. This all sounded like a lot of fun, but I didn’t want to get too excited. I had to remember the real reason I was in Dublin. I still had to talk to another seven people and hopefully solve the mystery of Kayla’s disappearance before I went back to Avarna.

  ‘You’ll be working on lots of different projects,’ said Ellie. ‘So you’ll get a feel for all the different aspects of the magazine.’

  Dillon pointed to the gigantic pile of CDs beside our desk.

  ‘Is that…’

  ‘The demo pile? Yes. Paul has been away for a few days so it’s building up. That can be your first task, actually, to listen to these. Arrange them into two piles – good and bad, basically. If you need anything I’ll be in my office. Oh, and lunch is at one. Good luck!’

  I sat down on the swivel seat nearest to me and Dillon sat on the other one, his leg brushing off mine as he did. Our shared workspace was a bit too cramped for my liking.

  ‘I’ve always wanted one of these chairs,’ he whispered, spinning round. It was obvious that he was trying to make up for earlier, but I still found him super-annoying. I gave him a forced smile.

  ‘Isn’t it kind of crazy that they leave this to us?’ he said, looking at the pile of demos. ‘That we get to decide people’s fate?’

  ‘Yep, choose wisely,’ I said, taking a CD from the top of the pile and putting on my headphones. At least if we were listening to music then I wouldn’t have to talk to him.

  After two hours of bad drum beats and too-long guitar solos, however, my head was just about ready to explode. I was so relieved when Ellie opened her office door and waved at me. I took off my headphones. ‘Jacki, can you help me in here?’ she said.

  I wondered what she wanted me to do. I didn’t really mind what it was as long as I got a little break from this. Dillon was so engrossed in the CD he was listening to that he didn’t even look up. I walked into Ellie’s office and closed the door behind me.

  ‘I’m so glad you’re here,’ she said. ‘I was starting to think they’d forgotten about Kayla altogether.’

  For a second I was taken aback, but then it clicked. She was Eleanor Higgins, a name from my list. I didn’t recognize her from the party video, but then I had only watched it once. I should probably watch it again, like Sergeant Lawlor had told me to, even if it made me uncomfortable.

  ‘I’m Kayla’s best friend,’ she said, signalling for me to take a seat. Her desk was covered in stacks of paper and CDs and magazines. ‘Well, I suppose she has three, but I think she’s probably closest to me. Every time my phone rings, I hope it will be her.’

  Unfortunately I knew that was one phone call Ellie was never going to get.

  ‘Do you think she ran away?’ I asked.

  ‘No, no way. I think she was taken,’ she said. ‘But since she went missing, I’ve heard of two girls who were held captive and then escaped, years later… not in Ireland, I know, but still. You’ve probably heard about the serial killer theory, but they haven’t actually found any bodies. So maybe he’s keeping them somewhere? Sometimes I wish we could search every house. I didn’t want to stop looking, but eventually I had to. As much as I’d like to, I know I can’t look everywhere.’ Ellie was so composed earlier, but now she looked like she might cry. She took a tissue from the box on her desk and I looked around the office, giving her a moment to wipe her eyes. The place was chaotic, there was stuff everywhere, but there did seem to be some sort of order to it. Huge cardboard copies of recent covers of Electric were propped up against the walls. Gemma Hayes was on the February cover, Nick Cave in March, and Imelda May was the face of Electric in April. The covers were really cool. The artists were all impeccably styled; I’d have done anything to get my hands on Imelda May’s red dress.

  ‘How long have you worked here?’ I asked Ellie.

  ‘I started when I was nineteen,’ she said. ‘I did a diploma in journalism, then began as an unpaid intern.’

  ‘It’s a really cool job.’

  ‘It has its moments.’ She smiled meekly. ‘Kayla would be so impressed if she knew I was working here,’ she added. ‘She’s big into photography. Whenever we go to gigs she always brings her giant camera with her.’

  I suddenly remembered Kayla’s outstretched arm in my dream, handing me the photograph, and a shiver ran through me. I tried to block it out. I could recall the dream’s details so vividly, which was useful, but also unsettling. I’d never experienced a dream quite so frightening. Well, not since last summer.

  ‘Ellie, was there anybody at the party who you were wary of?’ I asked. ‘Anyone you didn’t trust?’

  ‘No, not really. It was just our friends – you needed an invitation to get in. Not that Kayla wanted it to be exclusive or anything, but her dad would only let a certain number of people into the house at any one time. Hazel’s boyfriend was manning the door, making sure nobody crashed it.’

  ‘And nobody did?’

  ‘No, it wasn’t that big a gathering. I knew every single person there.’

  ‘Did Kayla seem upset?’ I asked. I figured if Ellie was her best friend she’d be able to tell me what kind of mood Kayla was really in.

  ‘No, she was in great form. She was enjoying the party. Yeah, she was a bit quiet, but she’s like that anyway, kind of introverted. But everybody likes her. I can’t think of anybody who would want to hurt her…’

  Ellie was obviously another person who didn’t suspect any of her friends. I wondered if I would know, if I would sense during any of these interviews, that I was sitting across from a killer. Probably not. After all, I hadn’t sensed who the killer was last summer; I’d only figured it out when it was almost too late. But this time I had a head start – I wasn’t going to ignore Kayla like I’d ignored Beth. I was going to follow the signs she gave me and I was going to do everything I could to find out what had happened to her.

  ‘Sergeant Lawlor told me what you can do,’ said Ellie. ‘I hope you can find her.’

  ‘I hope so too,’ I said. There was such expectation in her eyes, it made me uneasy.

  ‘I better get back to those demos,’ I said, wanting to get out of the office. This was particularly difficult for me. I knew Kayla was dead, but I couldn’t tell Ellie. I felt so bad for her. I didn’t know what I’d do if something happened to Nick or Colin or any of my friends.

  ‘Yeah, of course,’ said Ellie. ‘I hope it’s not too boring. Sergeant Lawlor said you needed a reason to be up here, so I put in a good word.’

  ‘No, not at all, thanks a million,’ I said. ‘I love music, so this is perfect.’

  I left the office and sat back down. I listened to a few more CDs, including a jazz ensemble, who were actually really good. The time went by so much more quickly when the music I was listening to wasn’t terrible. Before I knew it, it was one o’clock.

  ‘See you back here at two sharp,’ said Ellie as she passed our desk. She talked to us like she had earlier, like the exchange in the office had never happened, which I suppose was necessary. Nobody else could know why I was really here.

  ‘Hey, you wanna go somewhere for lunch?’ asked Dillon brightly. He picked up his bag and put it over his shoulder.

  ‘Listen,’ I said. ‘It’s fine about earlier. You don’t have to make it up to me; I suppose you couldn’t have known that my dad is dead. But I’m entitled to be here too, you know.’

  ‘I know,’ said Dillon. ‘I’m really sorry. I was just nervous about starting here, and when I’m nervous I say things that I immediately regret. Let’s start over, OK? Would you like to go for lunch?’ He shuffled awkwardly on the spot.

  ‘OK then, sure,’ I said, picking up my own bag. ‘Where do you want to go?’

  ‘Do you like crêpes, by any chance?’ he said.

  ‘Love t
hem.’

  ‘Cool, follow me so,’ he said, and we made our way towards the elevator.

  I took a bite out of my ham and cheese crêpe. The place was packed – the waiters were calling out order numbers as they walked past the tables, balancing plates expertly on their arms. I could feel the heat coming from the huge hot plates behind the counter, where a guy was flipping crêpes with a spatula. The sweet smells of cooking batter, melting chocolate and burning sugar filled the air. We sat at a small table in the corner. It was a bit crowded, but totally worth it because the crêpes were amazing.

  ‘Do you come up to Dublin much since you moved away?’ asked Dillon, who’d already eaten half of his chicken one.

  ‘Yeah, a good bit,’ I said. ‘I’ve played a few gigs up here.’

  ‘I remember seeing you upstairs in Whelan’s once,’ he said. ‘I was there with Mark.’

  ‘Oh yeah?’

  ‘You played a cover of “Pale Blue Eyes”… I remember cos it’s my favourite song.’

  ‘That was ages ago,’ I said. ‘Did you want to strangle me?’ I added with a laugh.

  ‘No!’ he said. ‘It was a really good cover.’

  That was nice of him to say, I thought. I loved playing that song – it was one of my favourites too.

  ‘Most of the time people talk so loud you can hardly hear me, and sometimes there’s only, like, six people in the audience,’ I said with a sigh.

  ‘There were only six people at U2’s debut gig in London,’ he said with a smile. ‘So you’re in good company.’

  I smiled too. Maybe Dillon wasn’t that annoying after all.

  I wanted to turn the attention away from me. I love singing and love performing, but I don’t really like talking about myself all that much. ‘So, you want to be a music journalist?’ I said. ‘Who do you most want to interview -’

  ‘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.

  Chapter 8

  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 transp
arent 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.’

  ‘Oh, no thanks,’ I said.

  ‘How about a drink?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll have a Coke, please.’

  Hazel walked behind the bar and poured me a glass. She moved so gracefully, every movement so effortless. She had lots of piercings in her ears, and a few tattoos on her arms, including one that said Kayla on the inside of her left wrist.

  ‘Do they hurt?’ I asked. ‘Tattoos, I mean. I’m thinking of getting one.’