Beat Girl

Chapter #9 | My Big Dream

Tom was leaning on the piano bench, about to saw a plank of wood. Holding my sheet music, wondering when the study-cum-workshop would revert to being a practice room once more, I watched him hold up the sawed-off piece against a drawing marked with measurements.

‘Never mind,’ I quickly said when he noticed me in the doorway. I wasn’t going to force him to immediately dismantle his makeshift workshop.

‘I thought I’d make a cupboard. For all your boxes,’ he explained. ‘I didn’t realise how many of them were stacked up in the attic.’

‘There’s no need. I’ll probably be in New York in a couple of months.’ I refrained from adding that I would never be coming back, at least not to his house.

‘I’ll be done in a minute.’ Tom either didn’t hear or chose not to hear my New York remark. He had consistently avoided any discussion of my future plans which, at times, suited me, but at other times absolutely infuriated me. I took it as a complete lack of interest in what I wanted to do with my life.

‘Oh, I almost forgot,’ said Tom, looking up from his sawing. ‘You’ve got some mail.’

I walked towards the little table in the hallway where the post was usually left. My heart started to beat faster as I nervously picked up the letter addressed to me. There was a recognisable logo on the envelope; I knew this letter was about my funding application. After staring at the letter for a few minutes, my palms growing sweatier, I suddenly found the courage to open it. I frantically tore at the paper, not bothering to open it along the envelope flap line. As I unfolded the letter, I was unable to read calmly. Only odd words and sentence chunks jumped at me, swimming before my eyes. 

‘Budget cuts’, ‘funding for the arts’ and ‘your application was denied’ were the three things I picked up on straight away. With a sinking feeling I scanned to the very bottom of the letter.

‘But we wish you the very best of luck for the future.’ What hypocrites! I thought, wanting to scream in frustration. If they were that concerned about my future, then why the hell had they not given me a bursary?

‘Everything okay?’ I hadn’t heard Tom approach.

‘Hmm? Oh, yeah, fine.’ I quickly folded the letter and tucked it into my jeans pocket, hoping my disappointment didn’t show. ‘I’m just going out to get some air,’ I said as I opened the front door, realising that even this was out of character for me. Normally I would leave the house without accounting for my whereabouts to Tom. I just hoped he wouldn’t read into this and start questioning me.

Once I was outside, I realised I didn’t have any idea where I was going, so I just wandered off, taking whichever road took my fancy. Completely directionless. Just like my life seemed to be at the moment, I thought, feeling really down on myself. I had counted so much on that scholarship! And both Mum and Ed had told me I’d be a shoo-in for it. 

I reached a road I didn’t recognise and stopped, for fear of getting completely lost. I looked around. It was not all that late. The sun was just setting, emanating a deep, burnt red sprawl over the horizon. Its beauty, though, was lost on me. I kicked a stone dejectedly. Then I spotted another stone, slightly bigger, and kicked it, but I used too much force and ended up stubbing my little toe. It appeared that even taking a simple evening walk was proving disastrous. Maybe it was best if I just returned to the house and had an early night. That way nothing else could happen to me. Nothing bad, at least, I reasoned. 

In the morning, I discovered I didn’t feel any better. My very own private little cloud was still hovering over me. I realised I needed to tell someone how I was feeling or I’d go nuts. And the only person I could talk to was Amy. I padded downstairs, intending to just have a coffee. I was too downbeat to make myself any breakfast. It would take all my will just to get the coffee-maker on the go. I hoped no one would be in the kitchen, as I was in no mood to face either Tom or Mike.