A Moment Like This

by Anita Notaro

  I tried to remember this as we neared Dublin, tried to remember that Sister Monica had always been there for me, and she was here for me now. She and all those who really mattered in my life. It was funny how this group had gathered around me, to help me. Maybe Bridget was right when she’d said, ‘There’s something about you, Antonia. Something that makes everyone want to look after you.’ I wasn’t so sure that I liked the sound of that – it made me sound like a bit of a victim, when I really wanted to learn to stand on my own two feet – but right now, I needed all the help I could get.

  I had never seen so many people in one place, from the crowds thronging the pavements, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favourite star, to those self-conscious girls and boys, just like me, hanging around the corridors backstage. ‘Who are these people?’ Colette said, as Mary nudged the car gently into the studio car park.

  ‘You sound like the Queen,’ Mary joked. ‘I assume they’re all the contestants and … other people,’ she said doubtfully, trying to take in the crowds. ‘Now, where are we supposed to go?’

  ‘Backstage Area 3,’ Colette said. Then, looking at me, ‘OK, Antonia?’

  I couldn’t speak. I’d literally lost my voice for a moment, rooted to the spot.

  ‘Antonia?’ Mary said, taking me gently by the arm. ‘C’mon, we’ll find it together, nice and easy now, OK?’ she was talking to me as if I was an old woman, guiding me gently along the corridors to a pair of double doors, above which was written ‘Backstage Area 3’, with a handwritten sign below it. ‘Performers R-Z.’

  ‘This must be us.’

  I stopped in front of the doors. ‘I can’t go through,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, you can, Antonia, one step at a time, OK?’ Mary said gently.

  I nodded dumbly and was about to open the stage door when I felt a presence beside me. I turned to see a man in a leather jacket standing beside me, a broad smile on his face. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. ‘You must be Toni,’ he said, extending a hand. ‘Dave Byrne.’

  I didn’t know what to do for a moment, and then remembered my manners, offering him my hand in return.

  ‘Dave Byrne from where, exactly?’ Colette interrupted, her tone sharp. She had that fierce look on her face, the one she reserved for people she didn’t like.

  He grinned and gave me a ‘who’s-your-friend’ look. ‘Dave Byrne from the Sunday Star newspaper. Just trying to get some background on the contestants. You’re the girl from Wicklow, aren’t you?’ he asked me.

  ‘Ehm, yes, how did you know that?’ I said.

  He winked at me, and of course I blushed bright red. ‘Oh, we have our ways,’ he said mysteriously.

  ‘I’m sure you do, but we’re in a hurry,’ Colette said and tried to brush past him, but he stuck a hand out to stop her.

  ‘Just one quote, Toni?’ That grin again.

  Karen had told me to be friendly to the media, so I plastered a smile on my face. ‘Sure. What do you want to know?’

  ‘How does it feel to come from nowhere to the biggest talent competition in the country?’ He was businesslike now, pulling a battered notebook out of his pocket and flipping it open, pen at the ready.

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t call Glenvara “nowhere”,’ I ventured, thinking of what Bridget would say if she read that in the newspaper. ‘But it’s amazing, Dave. I think I’m dreaming, to be honest.’

  He nodded, scribbling. ‘And how far do you hope to go?’

  ‘Ehm …’ I was startled by the question. ‘Well, I don’t know, I’m just taking it week by week,’ I began, wondering if this was the answer he was looking for.

  ‘She’s going all the way,’ Mary said proudly. ‘And you can quote me on that. Mary, from Glenvara,’ she said helpfully.

  ‘Well, Mary from Glenvara, she’s lucky to have you as a friend, that’s all I can say.’ Dave looked up from his notebook and smiled. ‘Thanks, Toni. Good luck!’ And then he was gone, in search of another contestant, weaving through the crowds in the car park.

  ‘God, what an asshole,’ Colette said loud enough for him to hear.

  ‘Colette, he can hear you,’ Mary said. ‘And anyway, he was harmless enough.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, “Mary from Glenvara”.’ Colette guffawed, so that Mary blushed bright red.

  ‘Well … I just wanted to show my support for Antonia,’ she muttered, looking embarrassed.

  I could see that she was hurt, and so I hastily said, ‘Girls, there was no way I could have faced him without both of you there beside me, so thanks.’ I put an arm around them both and squeezed.

  ‘You are entirely welcome.’ Colette smiled. ‘And now, deep breath everyone. Here we go.’ She pushed the door open, to reveal a huge space, lit brightly from above, around which bustled TV staff with earphones and clipboards.

  We all stood there for a moment, and I swallowed. ‘Oh my God.’

  ‘It’s not Glenvara parish choir, that’s for sure,’ Colette said, and then Mary shot her a look.

  ‘C’mon, Antonia, let’s go and find Karen,’ she suggested.

  I allowed myself to be led across the studio, trying not to trip over wires, to keep focusing on breathing in and out, steadily, to calm my nerves, and to put ‘one foot in front of the other’, as Sister Monica would say. Oh, Lord, Sister Monica. She’d be in the audience with Billy and Bridget and Betty and all of the others. And then I thought of Niall, and my stomach flipped. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to do this.

  ‘Toni!’ Karen was in front of me, her ever-present earphones around her neck, a welcoming smile on her face. ‘How are you feeling?’

  I opened my mouth to speak, but no words would come out.

  ‘She’s a bit nervous,’ Colette offered.

  ‘That’s natural.’ Karen beamed. ‘We’ll look after you, Toni, don’t worry. We’ll make sure you’re well prepared and nice and relaxed.’

  I couldn’t imagine how, so I just nodded as Karen walked in front of us. ‘I’ll show you to the contestants’ dressing room. It’s a bit crowded in there, but I’m sure you’ll squeeze in.’ She was talking as she raced across the studio floor, a walkie-talkie attached to her belt crackling away as she did so. ‘Now, here we are,’ she said brightly as we arrived at a tiny, scuffed grey door. She knocked briskly and then opened it. ‘Hi – everyone decent, I hope?’

  There was a chorus of yeses and noes, and then we were ushered in, and before I had the chance to ask any more questions, the door was firmly shut behind us. I took in the scene: the room was tiny and crammed with people, all pulling on dresses and applying make-up, even though Celtic had a huge make-up department. Maybe Colette was right, I thought, and they’d end up plastered in the stuff if they didn’t do it themselves. There was a roar of chatter, but I could barely hear it above the din of the hairdryers. Nobody looked at me or said hello: they were all too absorbed in their work. Some girls were practising their scales, snatches of songs I half-recognized wafting towards me. One of them sounded really good – she had a strong, distinctive voice – and my heart sank. What was I thinking of, that I’d be the only one with a good voice here?

  As if in a trance, I sat in the only available chair, a battered red vinyl one, and stared at myself in the mirror. The girl who gazed back at me was deathly pale, her eyes two dark circles in her face. I swallowed down the nerves again, wondering if I should have brought something to help me stay calm. Mum had always liked brandy, but I didn’t drink, so that would hardly help.

  ‘Here,’ Mary was waving a small yellow bottle under my nose. ‘Rescue Remedy’ was written on a small yellow label on it.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’ll help you stay calm,’ she soothed. ‘Just a couple of drops on the tongue.’

  I looked at her doubtfully. ‘Will it send me to sleep?’

  She guffawed. ‘For God’s sake, I’m not giving you drugs. Now take the stuff. You look as if you need it.’

  I did as she told me and then stood up, like a robot
, to let Colette pull the dress over my head.

  ‘Wow,’ she said, standing back to admire me. ‘Some slap and you’ll be sorted. Now, I’m not prepared to leave you to the tender mercies of Celtic’s make-up department, so lie back, please.’

  I sat gingerly on the chair, feeling the sequins scratching the back of my legs. I tilted my head back and let Colette smooth foundation over my face, feeling myself relax a little and my shoulders drop. ‘That stuff seems to be working,’ I joked.

  ‘Good,’ Mary said. ‘Now, just remember: regular deep breaths from the diaphragm, to loosen your throat muscles.’

  In spite of my nerves, I tried not to laugh at this advice from a girl who cheerfully admitted that she ‘hadn’t got a note in my head’. All the time, I was practising silently, the words of the song playing over and over, on a loop. I longed to open my mouth and let the notes fly out, but felt suddenly shy in front of all these people. But once Colette had finished tugging at the hem of my dress and pushing my feet into the nude Louboutins, I jumped up out of my seat. ‘I need the loo.’

  ‘Are you going to be sick?’ Colette asked.

  I shook my head. ‘Don’t worry, I’m fine.’ I gave her a wobbly smile. In truth, I did feel queasy, a tight knot in my stomach, but I just wanted some peace and quiet for a few moments.

  Once in the corridor, I took a gulp of the slightly cooler air and wandered along until I found the bathroom. Inside the cubicle, I gratefully sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and took a deep breath. Silence at last. What on earth had I let myself in for? I closed my eyes and let the words of the song come into my mind, and then I opened my mouth and sang. Even in the cubicle, it didn’t sound that bad. If I could manage to sing even vaguely in tune, I wouldn’t embarrass myself that much, I thought.

  After I’d practised a couple of times, I got up and went out into the bathroom. I longed to splash cold water over my face, but of course, I’d ruin my make-up. I looked at myself in the mirror: the pale face was now warmer-looking, a slick of rosy blush on my cheeks. My eyes looked smoky and dramatic and my dress glittered in the lights.

  ‘That was some singing you were doing in there.’ The voice beside me sounded amused, admiring even, and I turned to see Amanda. She looked amazing. Her hair had been combed into a huge, wild mass of red, and her eyes outlined in smoky grey. She was wearing jeans so tight they looked as if they’d been sprayed on, and a fringed suede jacket.

  ‘Amanda!’ I was so thrilled to see her that I pulled her into a hug. ‘I tried to find you that day, but you’d disappeared, and then I wasn’t sure …’ my voice trailed off.

  ‘Well, I got through, and here I am.’ She did a little twirl, her green eyes flashing. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think you look just the part,’ I said. ‘Bonnie Tyler isn’t a patch on you.’

  ‘And so do you.’ She stood back to admire me, and as usual, I blushed bright red. ‘I can see you’ve had professional styling.’ There was that edge to her voice again, that tone that I couldn’t quite make sense of. You’re being paranoid, Antonia, I told myself firmly. Amanda’s beautiful, and clearly talented, and a friend. And after all, it wasn’t as if I’d had much practice in judging other people’s characters, was it?

  I looked down at my dress. ‘A couple of friends helped me out,’ I said quietly.

  ‘Well, they’ve done a brilliant job.’ She was smiling at me now, and that tone was gone. ‘You know, your singing is utterly sublime, and you’ve instantly made me jealous, because you will blow us all out of the water.’ She was her old, warm, laughing self again.

  I smiled back, relieved at the change of atmosphere. ‘Oh, don’t be silly, Amanda. I’m a bag of nerves.’

  She extended a hand and placed it on my shoulder, her green eyes gazing into mine intently. ‘May the best woman win, Antonia.’

  ‘Sure.’ I fidgeted nervously, unnerved by her gaze. ‘Good luck, Amanda.’

  ‘You, too, baby,’ she said, turning from me to examine her face in the mirror. ‘You, too.’

  And then there was no turning back. Karen reappeared and ushered us to the back of the stage, like a crowd of schoolchildren on a tour. She put her finger to her lips, then whispered. ‘Quiet, please, while the acts are on.’ Then she read out the order in which we’d appear. ‘Toni, you’re last.’ She nodded at me. ‘We’ll all go back to the hospitality room, where you can watch the show on the TV there, and we’ll call you in order. When it’s your turn, David will come and mike you up and bring you here, and then you’ll wait for your name to be called. Don’t annoy the judges with too much chat. Just answer their questions briefly and then Bill, the band leader, will play you in, if needed. OK?’ She was all business, but then I supposed she had to be, with all of these contestants to whip into shape.

  We allowed ourselves to be led back to the hospitality room, which was thankfully a bit larger, with a water cooler and a tray of unappetizing-looking pastries. The others spread themselves around, but I was too nervous to sit. I could see the show on the monitor, the audience screaming and cheering, but it seemed to be happening elsewhere. There was no sign of Amanda, and I realized that I felt a bit disappointed. I could do with a friend to distract me. Then I remembered what Niall had said to me, that it was my time to shine, just like in the song. I sat down and sighed, wondering if I could hold on to that thought until the show was over. I looked at my watch and couldn’t believe my eyes. I’d been here for five hours already. Suddenly, a wave of tiredness swept over me, as if all the adrenaline that had been pumping around my body for the last few hours had suddenly ebbed away. I had the strangest sensation of not being able to keep my eyes open, and I felt myself begin to drift off.

  Suddenly, there was a voice in my ear, ‘Toni?’ And a tap on my shoulder. I jolted awake.

  It was Karen, and she was smiling at me. ‘You must have nodded off. You’re up in about fifteen minutes, and I’m going to take you to the backstage area now, OK?’

  I nodded my head, unable to say anything. My stomach was churning and my palms were sweaty. I didn’t know what my make-up looked like: hopefully my mascara hadn’t run and I wouldn’t appear on national television looking like a clown.

  I followed Karen down an endless corridor and through a set of heavy double doors, hardly listening to her chat. ‘Have you been to a TV recording before? It’s not as bad as it seems, really. The lighting is bright, but I’ll show you where your spot is, and all you have to do when your name is called is walk to the spot and smile and introduce yourself. Easy-peasy.’ She grinned.

  ‘When you put it like that it sounds simple,’ I said, ‘but my nerves are killing me. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand up.’

  ‘Just focus on the song and you’ll be brilliant. I’ve heard you, Toni, and you’ll just blow them away tonight, OK?’

  ‘OK.’ I nodded. ‘Thanks for everything, Karen.’

  ‘All part of the job,’ she said, leading me to a quiet area just behind the stage. I could hear cheering and clapping, but the sounds were muffled behind the thick drapes at the sides. ‘Right, after the judges have given their verdict on this act, I’ll come and get you to bring you on. Would you like anything while you’re waiting?’

  ‘Water,’ I croaked.

  ‘Sure, back in a tick,’ she threw the words over her shoulder as she jogged towards the double doors again. And then she was gone and I was alone for the first time that night. And I found myself thinking of Mum. Of how much she’d have loved this – the ‘greasepaint’ as she always called it, all the lights and the drama. She’d loved variety shows when I was younger, making me sit through the Royal Variety Show and commenting on every performer. But when I stood out on that stage – the first time I’d ever been on a stage in my life – she wouldn’t be there, cheering me on. I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. Mum, if you’re up there, I said to myself, please help me to get through this. I don’t know how I’m going to get on the stage, but if I do, I’ll know it wa
s thanks to you.

  And then I suddenly felt a little bit calmer. It was a strange calm, like the calm before a storm, a sudden complete silence. I’ve never been a believer in any kind of paranormal stuff, but right then, I knew I wasn’t alone any more. I looked up at the dark ceiling above the stage lights. ‘Thanks, Mum,’ I murmured.

  And then Karen was beside me, a plastic cup of water in her hand. ‘OK, Toni, have a little drink, and then I’ll take you to the waiting area to be miked up by David, and then we’ll wait a few minutes for your call.’ And with that, she led me gently on.

  The next five minutes passed in a blur. I was led to my spot and then back to wait for my name to be called. I stood at the side of the stage, a roaring in my ears as the audience whooped and cheered. ‘And now, our next contestant from the Garden County of Wicklow, Antonia Trent!’ I stopped dead for a second until I felt a gentle nudge in the small of my back. And then I was walking across the stage, the lights blinding my eyes. Somehow I found my spot and stood there, feeling my stomach flutter, my knees wobble. I could hardly make out the audience beyond the edge of the stage, but out there among them were Sister Monica and Billy and Betty and Colette and Mary and Niall, and all my friends. Funny, I’d made more close friends in the last six weeks than I had in my whole life. And they were out there somewhere, beyond the bright stage lights.

  You could hear a pin drop as I stood there, until I heard a tiny voice cry out, ‘Way to go Antonia,’ followed by a loud whoop. Bridget. It had to be. I felt myself begin to smile, in spite of myself.

  ‘Hi, Antonia, where in County Wicklow are you from?’ The voice made me jump, and I realized that I was facing the three judges. The first one, a slim, glamorous blonde, smiled at me, obviously trying to put me at my ease.

  I opened my mouth to say ‘Glenvara’, but for a moment, no sound came out. I stuttered and there was a deafening silence. ‘A-a-a village called Glenvara,’ I eventually managed, and was rewarded with a beam.