Best Friends Rock! (10 page)

“Look!” Ellie grabbed his arm. “Do you see what I see?”

Connor looked. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”

Ellie pointed.

Connor frowned. “So? All day workshop…all welcome…booking phone number…” He looked at her. “I don't get it.”

Maybe she was mistaken. Ellie knew that she could get carried away sometimes. But now she'd spotted it she was sure it was worth a try. “Don't you see? Where the singing workshop is being held? Today!” She pointed again, stabbing the word with her finger.

He looked again. “At the Coliseum.” He looked back at her. “A coliseum? In London? Where is it…and
what
is it?”

Ellie shrugged and looked at the poster again. “Okay, it's spelled differently, but I think I've heard of it…Maybe it's some sort of theatre.” She tugged at his sleeve. “You said he used to like singing. What if he didn't go to Rome at all, and is still in London? At this singing workshop thing. Is that the sort of thing he might do?”

Connor looked a bit shell-shocked, but he didn't take more than a few moments to gather his wits. “He might,” he said slowly. “And if he
is
still in the city we've got a chance of finding him. So maybe I was worrying for no reason. If Joe was better at spelling I might have googled the right place and not jumped to the wrong conclusion. Does the poster give an address?”

“Yes, it does.” Ellie unpinned the poster and took it over to the counter. “Would you mind if we had this?”

The assistant looked puzzled. “Help yourself. The workshop will be over soon anyway.”

Connor joined in. “Excuse me. Is the Coliseum easy to get to?” he asked.

“Dunno,” said the shop assistant. “It's not my sort of thing. But I don't think it's far.”

Connor grabbed the poster from Ellie and dodged out of the shop. By the time she had caught up with him he was already hailing a cab.

“I think we could walk it,” said Ellie as he yanked open the door of the cab that had pulled up to the curb. “The workshop doesn't end until five.”

“Get in,” he snarled. “I'm not taking any chances.”

Ellie couldn't help giggling. It was like being in an American cop film. “Calm down,” she said as the cab pulled away.

“I am calm,” Connor said, but he was obviously very, very angry.

“Connor.”

“What?”

Ellie put her hand on his arm, afraid that he might throw it off, but he didn't. “If Joe
is
there, and you go storming up to him in this mood it's not going to help. He'll think you're as bad as his father.”

“It would make me feel better though.” There was a break in his voice. He turned away from her and stared out of the window.

It wasn't long before the cab pulled up. Ellie waited on the pavement while Connor paid the driver. When he joined her he looked up at the lovely old stone building. “Wow. It's amazing. Is that a globe on the top of it?” He took a deep breath and clutched Ellie's hand. “Come on, let's see if you've found him, shall we?”

Ellie almost felt as if she shouldn't be there.
Home of English National Opera
it said on one banner, and
Home of English National Ballet
on another. But Ellie didn't feel at home at all in these rarefied surroundings. Connor, on the other hand, didn't appear at all fazed. He showed the poster to the woman in the ticket office and asked directions, followed signs and pulled Ellie down corridors. At last, the sound of singing told them they were close. Connor pushed open the door, and there, at the far end of a large room was a collection of people. They were all ages, shapes and sizes, and they were all singing, and being conducted by a man standing in front of them. Connor and Ellie stood quietly, listening.

“Is he there?” she whispered after a moment.

Connor nodded. “Third from the left, at the back.”

Ellie looked for her first glimpse of the elusive Joe Steel. He was partly obscured by a rather large woman in front of him. But he was tall, and slim, very much like Connor, except he had his long brown hair tied back. He was singing as if his very life depended on it, and looked as if he was having a wonderful time.

When the conductor brought them to a stop, Joe exchanged a few words with the man to his left, and they both laughed. He looked quite at home.

Ellie glanced at Connor. Fortunately, he'd calmed down for the moment. At least, he didn't show any signs of going up to Joe and shouting at him, for which Ellie felt rather relieved. But just as she thought that, Connor started to walk quickly towards the group of singers. “What are you going to do?” she said.

He didn't answer. Maybe he hadn't heard her. Ellie hurried to catch him up, feeling totally out of her depth.

Joe was just responding to something the woman in front of him had said to him, when he noticed Connor and Ellie. He looked startled.
Serves him right
, thought Ellie to herself. Joe muttered something, left the group, and hurried to intercept them. He glanced curiously at Ellie before trying to smile at Connor.

“Connor! I'm sorry. I was going to call and tell you when I'd be back, but we have to switch our phones off in here, and I forgot at lunchtime.” He looked worried. “How did you find me?”

Connor just looked at him. Then he turned to Ellie. “Ellie, this is Joe. The person you thought you'd be interviewing.”

Joe looked even more uncomfortable. “Sorry,” he said again, this time to Ellie. “But I didn't ever really agree to an interview…it was my dad.”

“Connor explained,” said Ellie.

“Oh, well,
great
! So you understand. That's good.” He glanced back at the singing group, and the conductor, who was looking in his direction. “I have to get back, but…can you wait for me? I'll be out at five.”

Connor shrugged. “Well so far we've spent the whole day waiting for you,” he said bitterly. “So I suppose we can wait a bit longer. No disappearing though, or that's you and me finished.”

“No disappearing,” Joe agreed, looking very grateful. “I promise. See you back here at five.” He was already walking back to the group. “There's a café,” he called back helpfully over his shoulder. “You could get a drink, or something.”

“Yeah,” growled Connor, sounding deeply unimpressed. “Thanks for your concern.”

Connor refused to move more than a couple of metres away from the room where Joe was singing. “He's not getting away from me again,” he growled when Ellie suggested they find something to eat. She could understand his concern, but it had been a long time since they'd eaten. She went in search of food while he sat on a chair halfway down the corridor. When she came back with sandwiches and drinks Connor was in a more reflective mood.

“I don't think I've been a very good friend to Joe,” he said, as Ellie handed him his sandwich.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I didn't ask him if anything was wrong, I just complained at him when he sneaked off. I didn't think to ask why. I just thought he was being a pain. He must have thought he couldn't confide in me.”

Ellie sighed. “You're not the only one who has made a bit of a mess of things,” she said. “I fell out with my best friend just before she went on holiday and I haven't heard from her since.”

Connor looked at her with sympathy. “That's tough,” he said. “I hope you manage to sort it out.”

“Me too,” said Ellie, with feeling. “It can be hard work being a good friend.” After that, neither of them said anything for a while.

Eventually, the door opened, and the singers emerged, chatting and laughing. Joe was one of the last to come out. The conductor was talking to him, and Joe was listening carefully. At last, the conductor handed Joe something, they shook hands and the conductor disappeared into another part of the building. The singers were leaving in twos and threes, but Joe had spotted Connor and Ellie and immediately came over to join them. He stood awkwardly in front of them and cleared his throat.

“Sorry,” he said. “For messing both of you about.”

Connor looked at him angrily. “I'm your best buddy,” he said. “But you didn't tell me what was going on.”

“I know. I'm sor—”

“Stop
saying
that!” Connor gave Joe a shove.

“Well maybe I would have told you if I'd thought you were interested,” said Joe crossly. He shoved Connor back. “But you just kept going on about sightseeing.”

“We're in
London
!”
Shove.
“I guess it's natural to want to see it.”
Shove.

Each shove was harder than the last, and finally Joe took a backwards step. Then, all of a sudden, Connor launched himself at Joe. Joe was slammed against the wall, and Ellie could hear him grunt as the air was expelled out of his lungs. “Oof!”

Sandwich wrappers and drinks bottles were scattered across the floor. Joe had hooked his foot around Connor's leg, and now they both toppled, wrestling, to the ground.

“Stop it!” said Ellie, scared that security would come and they'd get into trouble, but they showed no sign of hearing her.

After a minute, Joe seemed to be getting the upper hand, but just as he made to kneel on Connor's arms, Connor threw him off and the tables were turned. Now Connor was sitting on Joe's stomach with a bunch of his T-shirt in his hands. The fight seemed to have gone out of Joe. He lay there not moving, and for a moment or two they were both still, breathing heavily.

“Cry uncle?” asked Connor.

“Uncle,” replied Joe as well as he could. To Ellie's relief that appeared to mean they were friends again. Connor got up, offered his hand and pulled Joe to his feet. Then Connor bent down to pick up a stray drinks bottle and Joe gave him a shove. Connor staggered but didn't quite fall. He turned round to look at Joe and they grinned at each other. The fight still seemed to be over, and the boys began to chat as if they'd never fallen out.

“I thought if I stayed with Dad this summer we could talk properly, and that he'd come round to understanding about me not wanting to join the band. But if anything he's been worse about it.”

Connor nodded. “He isn't very good at listening.”

Joe smiled. “I've got a secret weapon now though…or at least I hope I have.”

“Really?” Connor and Ellie spoke at the same time. Joe pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and waved it at them.

“Yeah. You see, I've decided that it's no good fighting him. Dad just digs his heels in when I try to disagree with anything he wants me to do.”

Connor looked puzzled. “But that means you'll have to do what he says.”

Joe shook his head. “Not necessarily. I was talking to Mr. Edwards, the guy who took the singing workshop here today. He told me about a school I might be able to go to that trains singers. If I could get in, I could tell Dad that I want to improve my voice if I'm going to sing onstage. Hopefully he'll go for it, because the school has turned out some good rock musicians and singers. But secretly I'll be going on to train as an opera singer after I leave the school.”

Connor stared at Joe. “Opera?”

Joe grinned. “I know. Crazy, isn't it? But I like to sing. You know that, Connor. It's just that Dad's music doesn't do it for me. I saw an advert for this the other day when I disappeared.” He looked sorry. “I just needed to get away for a bit. I was wandering around, feeling trapped by what Dad wants for me. Then I saw this workshop thing, and decided to go because I fancied trying something new…and I thought you'd laugh if I told you.” He looked at his friend. “Sorry.”

“That's okay,” Connor told him. “I probably would have.”

“Anyway, Mr. Edwards teaches classes at the school too, from time to time.” Joe looked pleased. “He listened to me at lunchtime and said he thinks I've got a really good chance of getting in.”

Connor was still staring. “But…
opera.
”

Joe looked defiant. “Heavy metal is okay. Dad's band is great…but it's not for me. I think I know what I want to do now, and in the end I'll do it, whatever Dad says. You'll see. By the time I'm eighteen he won't be able to rule my life any more.” He hesitated. “And I really hope that once he understands that it isn't so very different from what he does, he'll stop trying to bully me and start to be just a bit proud.”

Connor shook his head. “Opera. It's like…
highbrow
stuff. How do you even understand it, let alone sing it?”

“It's not so very different from the school productions we used to do. It's just more…complex. And I
don't
sing it. Not yet anyway. Today was just a fun workshop. The real work will begin once I start voice training properly. I'll have some money of my own by then. So even if Dad refuses to pay, I'll still be able to do it. There's a load of money in trust for me, but I can't touch it until I'm eighteen.”