Musical Mystery

by Laura Sieveking

  My mind raced. How could I explain this one? I was guilty of reading her personal mail. And it probably looked like I was the person who had been pulling the pranks on the show, too—why else would I be standing there with the mask in front of me?

  Then I remembered what my Nanna Kate always says. When you lie, you end up tying words into knots, tighter and tighter, until you’ve tied yourself up in such a way that you can’t escape. I didn’t want that, so I decided to confess.

  ‘I know this looks suspicious,’ I said, slowly. ‘But I’m not the person who put that mask on set. I came up here to take photos of it, so I could investigate it myself. I thought if I could prove that it was just a silly prank, then people might stop freaking out and we could get back to rehearsing properly. I heard Tilly can’t perform, so we’re in enough trouble as it is, without the curse scaring everyone . . .’ my voice trailed off. ‘You probably don’t believe me.’

  Miss Lopez’s face softened. ‘I do believe you, Ella,’ she said. ‘But this really isn’t your responsibility. Eden’s staff can well and truly handle this. And as for Tilly, it’s a great shame. But this happens in theatre. I’ve been in shows all over the world, and this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. We’ll think of a solution.’

  Miss Lopez glanced down at her letter of offer, sitting on the desk where I’d dropped it. ‘And I suppose you saw this,’ she said, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to snoop. It was just sitting there and when I saw the title . . .’

  Miss Lopez interrupted me with a little laugh. ‘Well, I’m not allowed to tell anyone yet, so this will have to be our little secret!’

  I smiled as I glanced down at the offer letter again. It was from a musical production company on Broadway in America. Miss Lopez had been offered a part in their next big musical. The main role—an inspirational teacher who forms a school choir for troubled kids. I’d read the book that it was being adapted from.

  ‘And you’ve probably worked out that’s why I’m here at Eden,’ she smiled. ‘Mrs Sinclair is actually a good family friend of mine. When I told her I was trying out for a role as a teacher on Broadway, she agreed there was no better way for me to get character experience than by working with kids in real life. That’s why she brought me in as your musical director. I figured my experience would help you girls, but little did you all realise, you were teaching me the whole time!’

  I smiled. ‘I’d better go,’ I said, walking towards the door. ‘I’m sorry I came into your office when you weren’t here.’

  ‘Well, you’re lucky I’m not a real teacher,’ she whispered. ‘So I’ll let it go this time.’

  I nodded gratefully.

  ‘And Ella,’ Miss Lopez added. ‘Don’t worry about Tilly. We’ll work it out.’

  I walked out of the music centre with thoughts swirling around my head. Miss Lopez sounded confident, but how would we cope without Tilly? I just couldn’t think how we could make it work with so little time.

  I walked slowly back to the dorm, not even caring that the rain was still falling heavily. By the time I got back, I was pretty wet, so I walked upstairs to my room to grab a towel so I could shower off before dinner.

  As I trudged to the top of the stairs, something caught my eye. It was so small, I would have missed it if I hadn’t been looking down at my feet. I crouched down low. Right up against the skirting board, on the carpet, there was a tiny red splodge. I looked closer. It definitely wasn’t blood—blood dries brown, and this was bright red. Like paint. I looked ahead and saw another tiny dollop on the carpet further up the hallway. I walked up the hall and again bent down next to it. I whipped out my phone and flicked to the photo of the mask. I held it down next to the splodge. It looked very similar to the colour of the mask’s jagged stripes. Could it be?

  I looked up again and saw another tiny fleck of red on the carpet. It was right down the end of the hallway.

  I rushed up to it and squatted down again, feeling it with my finger. It was dry. I looked up to see whose dorm room it was in front of.

  Saskia’s.

  ‘Just as I suspected,’ I whispered to myself. Frowning, I whipped out my notebook and furiously scribbled down some notes, then took a photo of the paint dollop on the floor. I peeked inside Saskia’s open door and saw the room was empty. I hesitated. I’d already been in trouble once this afternoon for sneaking into other people’s rooms. But curiosity got the better of me, and I tiptoed inside.

  The room was clean, with the beds all made and the curtains open. The grey afternoon sky made it feel dark and eerie. A lightning bolt briefly lit up the room, and was followed by a low grumble of thunder. I scanned my eyes around the carpet inside, but didn’t see any other evidence of red paint. I looked up, turning my head slowly from left to right, searching for a clue.

  And then it hit me like a tonne of bricks. There, hanging out of one of the drawers, was a long thin strand of string. It looked exactly like the string used on the mask in Miss Lopez’s office. I hurried over to the drawer. This was the evidence I needed! But did I really want to get Saskia in this kind of trouble?

  I stopped and thought to myself. Why would Saskia do this to us? Didn’t she want to be in the musical? But then I remembered how bitter she was about getting the part of a wolf. And how much she wanted a big dramatic story for Eden Press. Anything for attention! I shook my head angrily. No, this curse-prank had to go away, so the cast would stop being so worried.

  I opened the drawer and pulled my phone out to take photos of the evidence. Sure enough, in amongst a pile of t-shirts was a clear bag and inside the bag was white, red and black paint, string and gem stickers. Everything Saskia would have needed to make the fake mask.

  But then something else caught my eye. The label on one of the t-shirts was poking out of the collar. If this was Saskia’s drawer, it should have said ‘Saskia’.

  But it didn’t.

  It had a different name on it.

  Portia.

  Chapter 15

  ‘Ella, what are you doing?’ a voice said from behind me.

  I startled and whipped around. Portia was standing in the doorway. At first she looked shocked. Then her shock turned to anger. She marched over to her open drawer and slammed it shut with a bang.

  ‘Why are you in my drawers?’ she asked in a shrill panicked voice.

  ‘I . . . I thought they were Saskia’s,’ I stammered.

  ‘So? You shouldn’t be in any of our drawers. That’s against dorm rules and you know it,’ she snapped. ‘I should go and get Monty.’

  ‘And then what?’ I snapped back. ‘What happens when she asks me why I’m here? And I tell her that I saw a trail of red paint up the hallway, leading to your room, where I found THIS!’ I pulled open her drawer again and the craft supplies for making the mask looked back at us accusingly.

  Portia shook her head and opened her mouth. But I could see she couldn’t think of an excuse. There was no talking her way out of this one. Portia’s anger melted away and concern and fear washed over her pale face. She slowly sat down on her bed and, taking her long braid into her hands, she burst into tears.

  ‘I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. And I didn’t mean to make everyone so upset,’ she sobbed. ‘I just thought that if I made up a story about a cursed mask and then things started going wrong at rehearsals, maybe the musical wouldn’t go ahead. I know how stupid that sounds now, though. I’ll talk to Miss Lopez, and tell her it was me,’ she said, trying to wipe away her tears with the backs of her hands.

  ‘Why would you want the musical to be cancelled? You are Arianwen!’

  ‘That’s the problem. I’m not good enough to be Arianwen. Saskia is right—I’m too shy. What if I get stage fright? And my parents have bought tickets for practically everyone we know. I can’t disappoint them and pull out. I was hoping the musical just wouldn’t happen,’ she said, as she covered her eyes and wept into her hands again. I put my arm around her.
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  The rain began to die down and as it quieted, I heard a shuffle in the doorway. I looked up and saw Saskia standing there, frozen. I didn’t know how long she had been there, but now that I’d seen her, she walked in quietly and sat on the other side of Portia.

  ‘Portia?’ she said, putting her hand on Portia’s back.

  Portia looked up.

  ‘I heard what you said. This is all my fault,’ Saskia said quietly.

  ‘Your fault?’ Portia frowned. ‘How? You had nothing to do with this curse-prank!’

  My cheeks reddened. I had almost accused Saskia of something she didn’t do.

  ‘I may have had nothing to do with the prank, but I haven’t been a good friend,’ she said guiltily. ‘I should never have said that you are too shy to play the part. You are the best singer in our year and you deserve to play Arianwen. I was jealous, so I wanted you to feel like you didn’t deserve it. Maybe even a small part of me hoped you’d quit, so I could audition for the part again.’ Saskia’s voice trailed off as she looked down at her hands. ‘I’m the worst friend around. I’m so sorry.’

  Portia looked up at Saskia. ‘It’s OK, Saskia. It wasn’t just you. My lack of confidence was there way before you said anything.’

  ‘Well, you should be confident,’ Saskia said, taking Portia’s hands into hers. ‘You are going to be amazing. And I’m going to be right there beside you, just like a best friend should. I’m in most of your scenes, especially the ones at the ice castle. If you feel like you are going to forget a line or if you need a friendly smile to encourage you, then I will have your back.’

  ‘Really?’ Portia asked, her eyes still glistening.

  ‘Really,’ Saskia said. ‘And from now on I’m going to be the friend I should have always been. I’m going to run lines with you over the next few days until you feel 100% confident. And I’ll go with you to talk to Miss Lopez.’

  Portia smiled and hugged Saskia tightly.

  I looked down awkwardly. I’d never seen this side of Saskia, or this side of her friendship with Mercedes and Portia. Usually she was just bossing them around. It reminded me of a girl in primary school. I always thought she was a big meanie, but then sometimes she’d surprise me by doing nice things, like giving me back my special diary, even when she didn’t have to. Nanna Kate says people are like icebergs. You only ever see the tiny tip of the iceberg, but there is a whole, humungous chunky piece of ice below the sea’s surface. She says that we all have big chunky pieces underneath the surface that people can’t see, so you have to be careful about thinking you know everything about someone just by looking at them.

  Saskia turned to me. ‘But that doesn’t excuse you, Ella, for snooping in our dorm room,’ she said, frowning.

  ‘I’m sorry. I was just on a trail to solving the mystery, and I got a bit obsessed, I guess,’ I mumbled.

  Saskia smiled a sly half-smile. ‘Well, we’ll forgive you this once. But don’t let us catch you coming into our room without permission again!’

  I hated being told off by Saskia, but I knew she was right. I nodded, standing up to leave Saskia and Portia to run through Arianwen’s lines. But as I stood, I had an idea.

  ‘Saskia, I don’t suppose you know Tilly’s lines?’ I asked. ‘This could be your big opportunity for a main part.’

  Saskia shook her head violently. ‘No way, Ella. You heard my audition with the poem. I stink at poetry. I hate to say it, but I don’t think anyone is going to be able to take on such a hard part at the last minute.’

  I sighed. If Saskia wasn’t even willing to take on Tilly’s dryad part, then nobody would.

  I walked back up the hallway to my room and went inside. Zoe was lying on her bed, reading.

  ‘Hey, Ella!’ she said, from behind her book.

  ‘Hey,’ I mumbled.

  ‘What’s up?’ she asked, closing her book but keeping her finger at her page. She sat up and leaned against the wall.

  ‘I just don’t know how we are going to get around the problem of Tilly not being able to perform in the musical,’ I said.

  ‘Well,’ Zoe said slowly, ‘maybe we just need to think outside the box.’

  ‘Like, how?’ I asked.

  ‘Maybe the answer isn’t the one you think it is. My mum says I’m good at solving problems, because I think outside the box by trying to find a solution that might not be the obvious one.’

  I nodded and then frowned. What other options did we have?

  My mind wandered back to a time when we had a book parade at primary school. Olivia and I decided to go together. I was going to dress up as the magical Nanny Kippy and she was going to be the girl from the book, Emily. We also needed a toddler brother, and our teachers agreed we could push Max around in a stroller. He was only three at the time. We made him the cutest little outfit with an old fashioned bonnet and we were so excited about it. But then the night before the parade, Max came down with a fever. Mum said there was no way he could be in the parade. She suggested we use a doll instead, but that just sounded boring and would never win us first prize. We tried to think of other friends who had a little brother, but Mum said we couldn’t borrow other people’s children. I was really cross, but then Olivia had the most fantastic idea!

  The next day, Olivia and I paraded around the oval. Me in my Nanny Kippy costume, with my magical cane. Olivia as Emily in an old-fashioned dress with a smock over the top, which Mum had sewn for her, and her hair braided. And we proudly pushed around the stroller with our ‘baby’ in it . . . otherwise known as Bob the dog! Everyone laughed and pointed, because Olivia had dressed Bob up in Max’s costume, including the adorable frilly bonnet on his head. Bob barked and jiggled around in the stroller, happy about all the attention, and we even won first prize! I laughed at the memory. Olivia was just like Zoe—she was brilliant at thinking outside the box to solve problems . . .

  Then it hit me.

  ‘That’s it!’ I yelled, sitting up suddenly.

  Zoe startled. ‘What’s it?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘I’ve worked it out! I know how we can save the musical!’ I leapt off my bed and bolted out of the dorm room door.

  Chapter 16

  The next morning, Miss Lopez and Mr Withers called an emergency musical cast meeting before school. We all gathered in the drama studio, as it was a smaller space than the big auditorium. Plus, people were still anxious about the auditorium after finding the mask there. Some girls didn’t even want to set foot in that building. I was buzzing with excitement after sharing my idea with Miss Lopez the previous afternoon. She said we would have to clear it with the rest of the cast, but there had been a glint of excitement in her eyes.

  Girls from all different year levels were sitting together on the floor, talking. Some looked worried.

  But I smiled to myself, because Miss Lopez was right—we had become like a family. Lauren in Year 12 was braiding the hair of one of the Year 8 girls. Violet was playing a hand clapping game with Ashley, one of the Year 9 girls. The musical really had brought together girls of all different ages and interests. I was going to miss that once the performances were over.

  Mr Withers and Miss Lopez perched themselves on the stage in front of everyone.

  ‘OK, everyone, calm down, please,’ Mr Withers said, as he waved his hands for quiet.

  Miss Lopez sat up straighter. ‘Girls, as you know, the musical is in just three days.’

  A nervous murmur whipped around the room. Miss Lopez held her hand up for silence.

  ‘And I know some of you are a little spooked after the . . . episode with the mask the other day. Well, the good news is, the person who planted the mask in the auditorium has come forward. She also confessed to being the one behind the cockroaches in the box, and the other little mishaps. I don’t believe it will do anyone any good to know who it was, but I can tell you this: she is sorry. She didn’t mean to hurt or scare anyone. She just had a bit of stage fright, which led to some bad choices. Here, I can show you the mask is
nothing more than a prank.’ Miss Lopez pulled the mask out from behind her back and held it up. A couple of girls still gasped in fear.

  ‘Don’t be afraid. Pass it around. When you see it up close, it will become obvious to you that this is not an ancient artefact, merely a silly practical joke, made with very modern craft supplies.’

  We passed the mask around. Some girls were hesitant to touch it, but when they saw it was definitely not real, they seemed to relax. One girl even held it up to her face and did a scary ghost sound, which made everyone laugh. My Nanna Kate always says that fear can only survive when you feed it. If you face your fear, you take the power away from it. And that’s exactly what was happening before my eyes in the drama studio. Girls who had been terrified of Portia’s story, like Amelia, were now giggling and smiling with renewed confidence. Even though the mask never really had any power, it truly felt like a curse had been broken.

  Miss Lopez clapped her hands for attention. We all quietened down and listened.

  ‘Now, there is the other matter of concern. As most of you know, Tilly has gone home with glandular fever. We will have a Get Well card ready for her soon that you all can sign. This leaves us with the problem of who is going to fill her part.’

  There was a heavy silence about the room.

  ‘Ella has come to me with what I think could be a wonderful solution to this problem,’ Miss Lopez said, glancing down at me. I reddened a little as people looked over at me.

  ‘But, as I have always said, we are family and we make these decisions together,’ Miss Lopez continued. She tucked a stray curl that had escaped from the pile of curly hair bundled up on top of her head behind her ear. Then she pushed her black-framed glasses up her nose and went on. ‘Before we entertain Ella’s suggestion, I want to know if there is anyone here in this room that would like to fill Tilly’s part. It’s only fair we start here with the cast. Now, I know Tilly’s part is one of the harder speaking parts due to the lines being in poetry, and it will be hard to learn, but we can let the person playing the part hold a script, even in the real performance.’