Dear Diary,
Another eventful day, I can tell you. It feels like I'm playing the lead part in some tacky soap opera at the moment. Suppose that's the price you pay for fame. Better get used to it! Actually, famous doesn't really come into it at the moment, more like, what is it? Infamous.
So this morning I shot out of my room as soon as I heard Leo getting up. He looked so bleary-eyed, bless him. His hair gets all crumpled up and sticks up all over the place. He still manages to look cool though, don't know how he does it. Either way, I started on at him as soon as he came out of his bedroom and he just said:
'Sis, please! Give me a break. Go and look after the flowers for a bit or something. Let me have a bath.'
It was really hard to leave him alone. I wanted to talk, talk and talk some more – about what happened last night. But I suspected he might really lose it as he's definitely not a morning person. When we were kids he used to throw his pillow at me when I bugged him or even worse – gave me one of those 'Chinese burns'. Ouch.
So I nipped downstairs, opened the back door and got myself out into the backyard. Hmm, our backyard. It must be the best on the street, I swear. Oh, I know it's not very rock and roll but between you and me, I do love a bit of gardening.
It's just pot plants in a small backyard, no grass or anything but I love it. I've got pansies and roses lined up along our stonewall and my sweet peas are doing well, growing up the side of the house, right next to the back door. The garden chairs I picked up from the garden center look so good. It always sort of clears my head when I go out there.
After a bit of pottering, as I stood in the backyard remembering how I used to watch Mum potting up her plants in this very spot, I heard Leo banging about in the kitchen, throwing some bread in the toaster. OK, 'restrain yourself', I muttered. Play it cool. He will come to you and you can talk all you like after that.
So I just carried on with my watering can, doing the rounds. I heard the phone ring inside and rushed into the kitchen. Leo already had the receiver pinned to his ear.
'Yeah...' he said. 'Well, what happened then?'
I bobbed up and down, unable to contain my curiosity.
'OK, cool. Let us know then. Yeah, down at Café Bilberry?' he said.
'Alright. See you there,' he said.
He put the receiver back down and looked at me.
'Who was it?' I said.
'Cheryl,' he said.
'Well?'
'She said she's got something to tell us.'
'What is it?'
'She'll tell us when we meet them at Café Bilberry, in a couple of hours.'
'A couple of hours? What did she want to tell us?'
'I don't know. Can't be that important, otherwise she would've said.'
Now and then I feel like strangling my brother. Much as I love him, he just doesn't get it sometimes. It's the music that matters to him. But the music isn't going to help us if we're sitting in jail. If I have to wear one of those orange prison suits... I swear to God.
'Let's go out for a walk on the moors before we have to go and meet them. I need to get some space, Ambs,' he said, reaching over to ruffle the front of my hair.
Well, what else would I do until we met up with Cheryl? I know myself. Hanging around the house too much drives me mad so I nodded at Leo, letting go of the thoughts of jail, and got ready to go out. I went for the slightly military look today – my black combats and a sexy polo neck. My policy is, look awesome at all times, you never know who you might meet.
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DOVETAIL DIARIES ✔
Misteri / Thriller| COMPLETED | Some say brother and sister Leo and Amber are just too close. They say the tragedy that left them alone as children is just too strange, too sad. It seems all Leo and Amber really have is each other. And music. Always the music. That...