Free Playlist for a Broken Heart by Cathy Hopkins

school in the morning, kept my head down and soon slotted into the syllabus. I was happy to work hard because it gave me something to do. I particularly liked
my art teacher, so that was at least something. I did my homework, I ate my packed lunch, then went to the library or art room. I did all the study that was needed, then I went home, often on my
own because I couldn’t follow Tasmin around like a lap dog, although she always invited me to go and hang out with her and Clover. She had her life and I was already taking up enough of it by
living in her bedroom. I wanted to give her space.
    I knew I wasn’t being totally honest with Allegra when she asked how things were, but I didn’t want to alienate her either by letting her know that I was sad, lonely, angry and
frustrated. What could she do to change things? Nothing. So I put on my cheery Paige face, making the best of it. Bath is great. School is fine. I’m OK. I’m tough, a survivor. But it
was all an act. Inside, I longed for someone to see beyond my mask, to understand how I really felt and to reach out and rescue me.
    One evening after I’d Skyped Allegra, I put on the
Songs for Sarah
CD. I stood and looked out of the window as a soundtrack filled the room.
    Put a frame around my face,
    Hang it in a gallery,
    So perfectly proportioned,
    Don’t you wish you looked like me?
    But when I look in the mirror,
    Who is it that I see?
    Someone who’s sad and lonely,
    Could this be the real me?
    Spooky. That’s just how I’ve been feeling today
, I thought, when I heard Aunt Karen call that supper was ready. The more I listened to the CD, the more the
songs spoke to me. I’d got into the habit of playing a track every evening when I got home from school if Tasmin wasn’t in. I even copied the CD onto my iPod so that I could listen
during the day. It was weird, like every track I put on seemed to echo my life. I thought of it as a playlist for my broken heart because it always made me feel better and less alone.
I wonder
who made it and where he is
? I asked myself as I switched off the player, then went down the stairs to join the mayhem that was supper time with my cousins. An idea suddenly hit me. Maybe I
could look for him?
    ‘Where’s Dad?’ I asked Mum after we’d eaten and were alone in the kitchen filling the dishwasher. He wasn’t around most days for mealtimes and I
was beginning to miss him.
    ‘Out looking to get our lives back,’ said Mum as she cleared uneaten food into the bin. I’d pressed her a few times about when we might get a place of our own but she was
always vague and said that Dad was doing what he could, checking out possibilities. She seemed a bit down whenever we spoke about the future because Dad had been for a few interviews for jobs but
was told each time that he was overqualified. Mum was luckier and had got a job working in the office at the school on the other side of town where Aunt Karen worked as an art teacher. Someone was
on maternity leave so everyone at the school was super grateful to Mum and she seemed to be happy to have something to do and somewhere to go in the mornings.
    ‘And are you OK working at the school?’ I asked.
    ‘It will do for now,’ she replied. She always said that. For now, but how long would that be?
    ‘What about your degree?’ I asked. ‘Couldn’t you use that to do something you might really enjoy?’ Mum had been to the London College of Fashion when she’d
left school and done a course in costume design. She’d wanted to work in theatre but then she met Dad and her life became looking after him, the house and then me.
    ‘Maybe,’ she replied. ‘But I have no CV. ‘‘Housewife’’ doesn’t count for much.’
    ‘But what about all the charity events you worked on? You have amazing organisational skills.’
    Mum sighed. ‘Maybe one day I’ll use those skills again. In the meantime, the job I have is a godsend. It’s giving me a chance to catch my breath while