'No homework again, Janey?' Mrs. Sachs, her music teacher wasn't one to beat about the bush. 'A few months ago I thought you were sure of your Music A-level. Now I'm worried. You're not putting in enough time on the Theory paper. I hear you've been neglecting your other subjects too. If you don't turn over a new leaf soon, you'll be out in July without any passes at all.'

'I know I've skimped some of the homework lately, but...' How could she explain about the gigs and all the band's business? Mrs. Sachs would simply say she would have to give it up. But she couldn't. There was no one else to do it, and she couldn't let the boys down now, just as they were getting into the big time.

'I do my guitar and piano practice every day. And my breathing and singing exercises. And I see Madame Vasari here on Tuesdays and go to her house on Thursdays. I've not missed even one lesson.'

Mrs. Sachs didn't know what a tremendous feat this had been. It was only fear of the awesome and famous Madame, which had accomplished it, in the face of increasing pressure by the band to do the Thursday gig with them.

'I'm not complaining about your singing. That's splendid. You're getting better all the time. Madame Vasari is very pleased with you, and keeps urging me to talk to you about going to Italy to study.' She hesitated. 'I don't know all your circumstances, Janey, but I told here there was very little chance. Isn't that right?'

'That's what I thought. So your only alternative, if you want a singing career, is to go to Music College. To get in you need A Levels. Not just music. Three As at least. You know you have to stay on for that, and get your GCSEs first. It's that simple. You're gambling with your future, Janey.'

'Twice, so far - and it's non-stop rows all the weekend. He's got it in for Mike too, about the band. We keep out of his way as much as possible.'

Janey flushed. 'She's in catering. She's got these two jobs. A hotel in the afternoon, and then this Casino place at night. She gets in around three in the morning. So all the time she's knocked out and doesn't want to know about anything.You can't talk to her.'

Mrs. Sachs ran her fingers through her hair. 'I don't know what to say. There must be something we can do. I think I'll see the Head. See if he can suggest anything.'

Janey felt desperate. She would just have to get into school an hour earlier each morning and do her homework first thing. But how was she going to do that, when they got back so late?

She walked home thinking furiously. Things would have to change. She would begin this weekend. She would make a really big effort and get everything up to date.

If she cut the Music Centre tomorrow morning and the gig in the evening, that would leave nearly the whole day to do the letters and accounts, except, of course for the Saturday housework and the weekly shopping. Then, on Sunday, she could finish off, do the filing and get two lots of homework, at least, out of the way. If she got an early night, Sunday, then she could get into school early Monday morning and do the homework for Tuesday. Maybe that would start a new pattern, and she wouldn't get into such a mess again. Or maybe she could use the lunch hour...no that was no good, there was the French coaching...It must be possible to find the time. It could be done. Had to be done. All it needed was careful planning.

Kerry Briggs was walking next to her, yelling in her ear, out of breath. ' I've been shouting and trying to catch you up for two whole streets.'

Janey paused. She had, in fact, forgotten that it was a special night. But then, just lately, it was always a special night. She would have to start somewhere.

'Look, I've been in trouble about homework again. I've got to get things better organised. If I work all day Saturday and Sunday, I can get everything cleared up and start afresh Monday.'

'I don't see how you can, Janey. There's too much stuff coming in. I don't think anybody realises how much work you do. It takes six of us to do the fan mail, and that's nothing like as difficult as your letters.'

'There'll be a row. You know they'll want you there in case anything goes wrong. They'll be all strung out with nerves and you'll keep them calm and fetch beers and things and help with the get-in. You know they like you there.You can't let them down!' Kerry was upset. 'And we're all going out to a club afterwards...'

'I'm not letting them down. They can get along perfectly well without me watching them from the side stage. There are enough people to help out. They won't even miss me. Mike was really nasty when I went over to rehearsals last Sunday. Steve wanted to see me, but Mike more or less threw me out. He told me to stay away.'

'To tell you the truth, Kerry, I'm really fed up with them and all the arguments. I'm turning over a new leaf now. I've got to start thinking of my own career.'

'No GCSEs - no College - no singing career. I've just got to get those exams. I've got to get away from here. There's my father home - bullying. And Her. And Mike, interfering and nosey. If I get into College I can get a bed-sit like Dave. Make a new life...'

'I work for them, Kerry. They pay me. And they've made that plain once or twice. I don't do it for fun, like you. When they turn professional there will be no place for me. Gerry Woods will take over all the office and finance part and a good bit of the fan mail too, I should think.'

'I don't want to be a hanger-on. I don't want a job in Gerry Wood's office. I want my own career.' Janey laughed, embarrassed. 'I want to sing at Covent Garden. It sounds ridiculous, saying it out like that. It took me so long to admit it to myself, and I still don't know how I'm ever going to find the courage, but I want to try.'

Kerry said, slowly. 'I never knew you felt like that about the band. I always sort of assumed that you were one of them. The inner circle. And that Dave and you...'

'And then, there's all these gigs. Okay, so the music is great, but it's pretty boring after the first six months. I mean, I spend most of the evening just watching them. It would be different if I had a boy friend along, and we could dance, or maybe just enjoy it together.'

'That's just it. He's playing. Besides, well, we're good friends, but he's not exactly...' Janey closed her mouth. It was just impossible to explain to Kerry, the complicated feelings between herself and Steve.

'It used to be, before they started rowing all the time. It just screws me up inside and I feel sick. It's like being at home with my father and mother. And now I'm too tired to enjoy it anyway.'

Janey was very annoyed. 'Now look Kerry, I've told you before, there's nothing important between Dave and me. You've got it all wrong. He helps me with my music Theory, and with my piano, but there's nothing like...oh, I can't explain.'

She was very confused about how she felt about Dave. She admitted to herself that she found him wildly attractive - but then so did all the other girls. She liked his sense of humour, thought he was a fantastic musician, and was grateful for his help. But there was more. There was a queer awareness between them, a strange link, which told her when he was in the room, when he was coming, and often, what he was thinking. She did not like to admit this because it was so weird, and anyway she was still frightened of him.

His explosive temper reminded Janey vividly of her father. She was scared too of the effect Dave had on her physically. When he kissed her - Dave liked girls a lot and was free with his kisses - the effect on her was, well, devastating. He couldn't even put his arm around her or touch her casually without her body reacting. And he knew it too. Knew it and liked to let her know he knew it. It amused him to see her shaking and flushed from a casual hug and kiss.

She tried to keep out of his way. She was determined not to get caught up into an affair with Dave. He was too dangerous. She had seen the cruel way he got rid of his girl friends. He was going to munch his way through a lot of greener grass before he was ready to settle down. She could not afford to get mixed up with anyone like that if she wanted a career.

She felt much more comfortable with Steve. He was easy to be with. He joked a lot. There were no frightening explosions of temper. No appraising sexy looks, no odd silences, broken by them both starting to say the same thing. She was safe with Steve. He wouldn't start anything. She could relax.

But to Janey's annoyance and discomfort, nearly everybody, noticing the strange coil of tension between them, assumed that Dave was her boy friend. Ever since they had met people had paired them off together. She didn't know how it had happened, or why it went on when neither of them made any acknowledgement of it. All the same, invitations to parties arrived for 'Janey and Dave', and when she was by herself, people asked her where he was. It was all the more puzzling because Dave had had a succession of girl friends, and at least two really serious relationships, since the band had started.

The real truth was that in the crowd of friends, helpers and hangers-on, surrounding Night Mission, Janey felt isolated and lonely. She wished she had a real boy friend. Someone ordinary, who wanted to be with her, who wanted to hold her hand and cuddle her gently sometimes. Nothing heavy, just friendly and warm.

After the Rock Top concert, Steve had asked her to be his girl friend, but she hardly saw him except at gigs. He never took her anywhere on their own, and she thought she was probably too unsophisticated for him to be really interested. He had said himself that he liked fast cars and fast girls, and nearly all his ex-girl friends had been rich and beautiful. She thought he was probably trying to get over his broken engagement with Leonie Streeter. She didn't know why, within the group, he kept up this pretence of being her special boy friend, except maybe to make Mike mad.