Missing Ellen by Natasha Mac a'Bháird Page A

and started flicking through the playlists.
    The doorbell rang, and Ellen rushed to open it. Pete stood on the doorstep. He was wearing a long-sleeved black T-shirt with a heavy metal band on the front, and there were stains on his jeans. His hair hung loose around his face, greasy and lank. Beside him stood a smaller guy, similarly dressed, though at least his jeans were clean. I recognised him as the drummer from the band. Cute he was not.
    I peered over his shoulder, but there was no one else there. I wasn’t exactly dying to see the rest of the band, but just two of them was even worse, especially when one of them was going out with one of us.
    ‘You found us! Come on in,’ Ellen said, grabbing Pete’s arm. ‘Hi, Spider. This is my friend Maggie.’
    ‘The one I was telling you about,’ Pete said, nudging him.
    ‘Hey,’ said Spider, raising one hand in a kind of half-wave. He followed Pete into the hall.
    Ellen was talking at top speed, as she often does when she’s nervous. ‘Come on through. I’ve got some music on. Do youlike Electrified? I love this new album. It’s kind of like Flaming Moes, don’t you think? What can I get you to drink?’
    By this time we were all seated in the sitting room, Ellen with the two guys on the couch, Pete in the middle. I’d settled myself in an armchair as far from Spider as possible without being too obvious.
    Ellen jumped up again just as soon as she had sat down and stood like a waitress waiting to take their orders.
    ‘What kind of beer do you have?’ Pete asked.
    ‘Only Becks I’m afraid. I’d have got some more in if I’d known you were coming, but it was kind of a spur of the moment thing,’ Ellen said.
    Or they could have brought something with them, I thought, instead of turning up on the doorstep with one arm as long as the other, as my mum would say. They knew we were still at school and had no money, whereas presumably they had some kind of an income, even if it was only the dole.
    ‘Becks will do fine,’ Pete said. He spread his arms out along the back of the couch and surveyed the room, taking in the huge plasma TV and the solitary photo of Ellen and Robert on the mantelpiece.
    Ellen was gone a long time getting the drinks. I wished I’d offered to go instead. The silence stretched on. Feeling desperately uncomfortable, I searched for something to talk about. Although Pete and Spider (what a ridiculous name)seemed happy enough just sitting. Spider was drumming his fingers on his knees in time with the beat from Ellen’s iPod.
    Eventually I said, ‘Any gigs coming up?’
    ‘We’re playing Keogh’s again next Saturday,’ said Spider.
    ‘Oh … that’s nice,’ I said. He didn’t respond, and I couldn’t think of a single other thing to say to them. We had nothing in common except Ellen.
    Ellen came back in with four bottles of beer. ‘Sorry I was so long. I went to the garage to get more beer to stick in the fridge.’
    She passed around the beers and the three of them started talking about bands, and some obscure singer who’s written a novel which is due out later this year, and how to get your hands on a draft copy on the net. I took tiny sips from my beer and wondered what exactly Pete had told Spider about me.
    I soon found out. I was in the kitchen, emptying a large bag of nachos into a bowl, when Spider came in.
    ‘So, you’re the fairy tale princess then, are you?’ he asked. ‘How does that work then? Do you have to disappear on the stroke of midnight?’
    I didn’t much like the way he was looking at me. As if I was something he thought he might quite like to eat or something.
    ‘Not exactly,’ I said, trying to laugh it off. ‘It’s just my folksare pretty strict about curfew – you know how parents can be.’
    He smiled. ‘No parents to worry about tonight, though. You’re staying over, right?’
    What exactly was he planning? ‘Well, yes, but Ellen’s dad will be back later.’
    ‘Not too soon, I