by Lyn Gardner
“But I can’t go to the ball! I don’t have anything to wear. I don’t have a carriage and horses.”
“Oh, I can help you there, darlin’,” said the fairy godmother. “I got a C+ in transformations at fairy school. Have you got a pumpkin?”
“In the pantry,” said Cinderella. “I’ll just get it.”
Amber ran into the wings, where a harassed Poppy, still fighting with the coach, handed her a pumpkin. Amber brought it back and put it down at Abbie’s feet.
“Brilliant. Now six white mice. In a box, preferably, or they’ll get everywhere. Little blighters.”
Amber ran to the wings. “Mice,” she hissed at Poppy. “I need the box of mice!”
“Can’t you see I’m a bit busy with this wretched coach!” snapped Poppy. “The box is on the floor under the table. Just pick it up yourself.”
Amber pouted. The orchestra was getting ready to strike up with the transformation music. Will Todd was holding the cymbals apart and looking for his cue. Irritably, Amber bent down under the table. There were two boxes there. She grabbed the nearest one, ran back on to the stage and placed it at Abbie’s feet.
Abbie raised her wand. “Now, Cinderella, remember whatever happens you must be back by midnight, when all your finery will turn to rags. Close your eyes and count back from twelve and your transformation will be complete.”
The orchestra began to play, the lights flickered and the stage began to fill with dry ice.
“10 … 9 … 8 … 7 …” Abbie touched the pumpkin with her wand, which was the cue for the coach to appear. Nothing happened. Abbie glanced anxiously into the wings. She could see Poppy’s distressed face. The coach was completely stuck. She saw Poppy and the others all run round behind it. There was nothing for it but to carry on with the spell.
“5 … 4 … 3 …” Abbie bent over the box and waved her wand. She put her hands on either side of the lid ready to lift it so the six puppet mice could pop out. Tom and Olivia stood ready to gallop on stage. He looked at the box, gasped and opened his mouth to yell, “Stop!” but at that moment Amber finished her countdown, Will hit the cymbals as loud as he could, the tiered ballgown made from emerald silk dropped from the ceiling over Amber’s head and billowed around her like a great sail, and Poppy and the stage managers gave one last huge heave to the coach, which shot like a cork out of a bottle on to the stage and knocked the box over.
There was a tiny shimmering silence and then dozens of little white mice ran all over the stage, squeaking excitedly. One shot straight up Amber’s leg, which made her scream loudly. Tom and Olivia galloped on to the stage to try and help, and at that moment there was a terrible crack as if the building itself was breaking in two and a great scar ran like a river across the ceiling of the stage and out into the auditorium. For a moment, everyone watched fascinated, and then the roof fell in.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Well, it certainly gave new meaning to the saying ‘bringing the house down’,” said Olivia.
“Amber’s screams alone could have done that,” said Georgia with a grin. Eel started running around waving her arms about in a wicked impersonation of Amber.
“Stop it,” said Tom. “I can’t laugh any more. It hurts too much.”
“Sheridan was almost as funny the way she stood up on her seat and wouldn’t come down. She’d still be there if Theo hadn’t carried her out of the building,” said Georgia.
“Bet she’s sorry she forgot her Gucci handbag,” giggled Eel.
“Why?” asked Tom.
“Because when she did eventually get it back, a mouse had nested inside it.” The Swans were hit by another wave of laughter.
“At least nobody was hurt except poor Mr Shaw.”
“Fortunately, it’s only a minor fracture,” said Georgia. “But it means he’s out of the panto because it won’t be healed in time.”
“It’ll be Amber’s pride that will take the longest to recover. She must have known how ridiculous she looked.” Eel did another impression and everyone started laughing again.
Olivia suddenly looked serious. “Actually, though,” she said, “there could be problems now. Apparently Sheridan screamed down the phone at Gran, threatening to sue the Swan for every penny it’s got. Amber’s voice is shot from all the screaming and needs at least a month’s rest.”
“More likely it’s shot from all that talking on her mobile phone,” said Eel unsympathetically. “But Amber wouldn’t really sue the Swan, would she? It would be like suing your own family.”
“She wouldn’t have agreed to be in the panto if she didn’t still feel something for the place,” said Tom.
“I know,” said Aeysha, “but I think that something happens to people like Amber when they become stars. They get surrounded by people – agents, advisers, press reps – who bow to their every whim and yet are also quite controlling and then they start to lose touch with reality. Look at Theo.”
“Theo’s really nice,” piped up Eel. “He’s paying for us all to go skating. He showed me the tickets.”
“He is,” agreed Aeysha. “But he still does what Sheridan says, rather than what he really wants. It’s obvious he’d much prefer to be playing Baron Hard-Up or one of the ugly sisters, but he isn’t because Sheridan said it would be bad for his image.”
“But he’s a real star,” said Georgia. “Stars can do whatever they want.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Aeysha. “From what I’ve seen of Amber, Theo, and Cosima and Cosmo last term, it seems to me that the bigger the star you are, the more you’re constrained by it. Theo may be the hottest thing at the moment, but how long will it last? Maybe he’ll have a long and distinguished career and still be making movies when he’s eighty. Or maybe he’s reached his peak and the only way is down. It must make you feel really insecure, which might be why stars surround themselves with people like Sheridan who constantly massage their egos but also tell them what to do.”
“It’s enough to make you want to give up the tap dancing and become an accountant,” said Tom gloomily.
“With your maths skills, I’d stick with the tap dancing,” said Georgia.
“Well, I’m still going to be a star,” said Eel confidently. “And I won’t need anyone to massage my ego.”
“No,” laughed Olivia, “because you can do that very well for yourself.”
“I’m sure the whole thing will blow over with Amber, and she’ll be back rehearsing next week,” said Georgia.
“The show will go on,” said Olivia. “It wouldn’t be like Gran to let something like this stop her.”
But up in the flat that evening, Olivia began to wonder whether she’d been right. She’d gone into the living room to say goodnight and found Alicia staring pensively into the distance as if in a trance.
“Are you all right, Gran?” asked Olivia.
“Yes, Livy, I’m fine,” said Alicia. “I’m just worrying about the panto.”
“Why? What’s happened?” asked Olivia.
“Well, for a start, Amber has pulled out.”
“Is she going to sue you?” asked Olivia anxiously.
“Oh, I think that’s only Sheridan’s bluster. I reckon Amber would be horrified by the idea.”
“So why can’t the panto go ahead?”
Alicia gave a long, low sigh. “Because the ceiling is going to take a long time to repair. It’s quite a complicated job and we need a specialist builder and I can’t find one who can start for two weeks. And that means the dates of the panto will have to be put back and that means Theo can’t do it because he’s got other commitments and without Amber and Theo as the draw I’m not sure the panto is viable. I can’t afford to lose money on it, and the whole point was to make a nice big contribution to charity.”
“But can’t we find an alternative venue?”
“Even if we could at this late stage, it would cost too much,” said Alicia. “I’ve been racking my brains but I can’t come up with a solution. Still, maybe if I sl
eep on it something will come to me.”
“I wish … I wish we had a fairy godmother who could make it all come right,” said Olivia.
Alicia hugged her granddaughter. “I don’t believe in making wishes. I believe in making things happen.”
Olivia said goodnight to her grandmother and padded off to bed. She lay awake for a long time, thinking about Alicia’s sad face and brave words. Making things happen! She wondered if she could.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alicia beamed at Georgia and Aeysha.
“It’s good Zelda news,” she said. “For both of you.”
As she said the word “both”, a strange expression crossed Georgia’s face as if she was disappointed rather than pleased. Aeysha nudged her and grinned and put her arm around her, hardly noticing Georgia’s stiff shoulders and pasted-on smile. Alicia was so delighted she didn’t notice anything amiss either.
“I can’t believe it,” said Aeysha, shaking her head as if she was trying to wake herself up.
“Me neither,” said Georgia quietly.
“Well, it’s true,” said Alicia. “I don’t know what you did at the last audition, Georgia, but Poppet mentioned that it was your display of spirit that clinched it for you. Well done.”
Georgia’s stomach churned. She thought she had blown it and instead she was through to the next stage!
“Well, girls, you’re the last two Swans standing. I’m very proud of you. Well done and keep at it. Maybe one of you will be lucky. You both deserve it, and whatever happens you must remember that you’ve beaten off hundreds, maybe thousands, of other girls to get this far. Even if neither of you do get it, it should give you both such a confidence boost for the future.”
“When will the next audition be?” asked Aeysha.
“It’ll be a screen test this time, and they’ll let you know directly. Oh, and they had these couriered over for both of you.” Alicia gave a thick cream envelope to each girl. “Read it all thoroughly but make sure you keep checking your phones too. You don’t want to lose the role through carelessness,” said Alicia. “I’ve seen that kind of thing happen. A missed audition or a missed rehearsal and suddenly that big chance slips away. Now, off you go, girls, and good luck to you both.”
As soon as they got outside Alicia’s office, the girls tore open their envelopes. Inside were cards congratulating them on getting so far and a single sheet of paper with a speech from the script that they were told to learn by heart. The two girls went to the cloakroom to get their things. Katie was there, just finishing a phone call, and when she saw Georgia and Aeysha she looked embarrassed and scuttled away.
“What’s got into her?” said Georgia, looking after Katie with a puzzled expression on her face. Katie seemed more isolated than she had been at the beginning of term, not less. But Aeysha was on the phone to her mum sharing the good news. Georgia left her mum a message. Aeysha finished her call and put her phone down on one of the benches so she could fling her arms round Georgia.
“It doesn’t feel real, does it?” she said.
Georgia shook her head. “I wonder how many girls are left in the running. I wish we knew. Then we’d know what we were really up against.”
Aeysha suddenly hit her own head. “I’m such a numpty! I’ve left my music for tomorrow in one of the practice rooms. Will you wait for me? I won’t be a tick and then we can catch the bus together.” She danced off.
Georgia sat down heavily on the bench. She needed a moment alone to deal with her conflicting emotions. She knew that she should be thrilled for herself and for Aeysha, who was her friend, one of her best friends, in fact. Before this moment she would have confidently said that she would do anything for Aeysha, from giving her all the red sweets in the fruit gum packet even though she liked them best, to pulling her from a burning building even if it put her in peril herself. Aeysha had always been a good and loyal friend to her. But now they weren’t just friends, they were rivals – and rivals for the same plum part. If Miss Swan had said that she had got through to the next round of auditions but Aeysha hadn’t, she would have been completely devastated on her friend’s behalf and full of genuine sympathy. But somehow it was harder to feel pleasure for Aeysha’s success when potentially that success might mean her own failure. Only one of them could get the role. It was so confusing. Her phone rang, and she answered it.
“Georgie darling, it’s Poppet from Kylight Productions. I’ve suppose you’ve heard the good news. We need you to come and see us again tomorrow for a screen test. Ten a.m. Is that OK?”
“Yes, that’s good,” said Georgia. “Miss Swan told Aeysha and me that we were still up for the role. We’re both made up.”
“Lovely,” said Poppet. “Actually, is Aeysha there? The director wants to see her at two thirty p.m. tomorrow.”
“She’ll be back in a minute,” said Georgia. “I could give her a message.”
“Could you, darling?” asked Poppet. “That would be too, too sweet of you. Tell you what, you tell your friend, and I’ll just send her a text with confirmation. No need for her to get back to me, unless there’s a problem.”
“OK,” said Georgia. “Poppet, do you know how many girls are still up for Zelda or is that a trade secret?”
“I probably shouldn’t tell you, darling,” said Poppet, “but I don’t see the harm in it. You’re down to the last three. You two from the Swan and a girl called Kate Carmichael. Oops, there I go again, giving away state secrets! Forget that name immediately. Must dash, sweetie. See you tomorrow, and don’t forget to tell Aeysha. I’ll text her now.”
Georgia put the phone down. Just three of them. So close and yet so far. She had a sudden revelation: if she wasn’t going to get it, she would actually prefer the unknown Kate Carmichael to get the role instead of Aeysha. Then at least the two of them could commiserate together. But if Aeysha got it and she didn’t, she’d feel so jealous she didn’t think she could bear it.
Aeysha’s phone gave a little bleep announcing the arrival of a text. Georgia reached for it and then snatched her hand away as if the phone might scald her. The she picked it up with trembling fingers. She could see that the message was from Poppet. She swallowed hard and it was as if a great struggle was taking place inside her. Then she pressed the delete button and immediately felt terrible, hollow and empty, as if she had somehow lost an essential part of herself. She placed the phone back on the bench just as Aeysha walked into the changing room and began to gather up her things.
“I wonder when we’ll hear about the next audition,” said Aeysha.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe not for days yet,” replied Georgia, and she flushed red as she said it and her heart gave an unexpected lurch.
“Come on,” said Aeysha, “or we’ll miss the bus.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The bus turned the corner and came to a stop.
“I’ll get off with you here, Georgie, and walk the rest of the way. It’s not far,” said Aeysha. “And it’ll give us a bit more time together.”
As they got off the bus, she linked arms with Georgia. Georgia suddenly burst into tears. The girls stopped walking and Aeysha stared at her.
“What’s wrong, Georgie? You should be on top of the world. We’re both through to the next round. You could be Zelda! Why are you crying?”
“Because I hate myself,” sobbed Georgia.
“Why?” asked Aeysha in a puzzled voice.
“I can’t say. It’s too horrible,” wept Georgia. “I’ve done something really terrible. You’ll never forgive me.”
“Of course I’ll forgive you, you’re my friend. Friends always forgive each other.”
“Not when they’ve done something this bad.”
“Georgie,” said Aeysha patiently. “Unless you’ve suddenly turned into a serial killer and have body parts stashed in your sports bag, I can’t imagine what you could have done that’s so terrible.”
Georgia closed her eyes for a second. “I haven’t given you
the message that Poppet gave me about your recall audition tomorrow at two thirty p.m.,” said Georgia in a voice so tiny that Aeysha had to strain to hear her.
There was an electric pause and then Aeysha took a deep breath and said, “But you have now, Georgie. You’ve done the right thing. So it doesn’t matter.”
“But I did something even worse. Poppet texted you too, and I deleted it because I wanted you to miss the audition.”
“Ah,” said Aeysha quietly. “That is quite bad. That’s old-Katie-Wilkes-Cox bad.” There was a long silence and then she added, “But I haven’t missed it. You’ve ’fessed up. So it doesn’t matter, Georgie.”
She went to hug her but Georgia pulled away. “But it matters to me. It matters to me that I’m turning into such a horrible person, a person who even feels jealous of her best friends. I can see you’re not jealous of me; you seem as genuinely pleased about my success in the auditions as you are for yourself. But I’m jealous of you, Aeysha. And it’s not just you. When Livy announced that she wasn’t going to go up for Zelda, I felt so relieved. I wasn’t sorry at all. I was thrilled. I was so worried that she would, and that she would get it rather than me because if anyone was born to play Zelda, it’s probably Livy. I was pleased she wasn’t auditioning; it felt like one less rival to contend with, one less person I was going to have to beat if I was in with a chance of being Zelda.”
“But you don’t think that about all the other girls who have been auditioning from other schools for Zelda, do you?” said Aeysha slowly, as if she was thinking very hard. Georgia shook her head. “It only becomes a problem when your friend is also your rival, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Georgia. “I don’t mind about all the other girls. I don’t know them.” She started sobbing again. “But if I’m honest, what I feel is even worse still, Aeysha. If I can’t get the part, I’d almost prefer one of those other girls to get it than you. I’d feel better now there are just three of us in the running if the girl we don’t know got it and we both failed together, than if you got it and I was the one who lost out.” Her eyes were blazing and her face was pale. “There! I’ve said it. I’ve said what I really feel, and now you know just how despicable and what a horrible human being I am.” She sank on to a low wall nearby. Aeysha sat down next to her and took her hand.