by Jean Ure
But I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine anyone as beautiful as Topaze ever voting for a big wobbly jelly like me. She’d more likely agree with Marigold that I shouldn’t have entered the contest in the first place.
“Carm, you gotta have confidence,” said Indy.
I did have confidence – in my voice! Just not in my body. Indy urged me to “Think of Beth Ditto.” I didn’t know Indy had ever even heard of Beth Ditto, but she said she’d seen pictures of her in a magazine.
“She looks great! Cos she’s not ashamed, you know? She doesn’t care, she just gets out there and does her thing, and everybody loves her. Everybody’s gonna love you, too. Just get out there and do your thing!”
Mum, of course, was interested in what I was going to wear. “Put it on,” she said. “Let me see!”
I reminded her that I had already shown her. “I showed you when I first got it.”
“So show me again!”
Rather nervously, I presented myself to her. Mum is just so critical when it comes to clothes. She herself has a really good dress sense, and she is one of those people who always says what she thinks, no matter how rude it might be. If she reckoned I looked like a sack of potatoes, she wouldn’t hesitate to say so.
“My God, it makes you look like a sack of potatoes!”
I could just hear her. I braced myself. I said, “Well? Is it OK?”
“It’s perfect,” said Mum. “Very stylish! But it would be, if it was Josh who chose it. That boy has excellent taste!”
I relaxed a bit when she said that. If Mum approved, it had to be all right. “I’ll tell you what,” she said. “Tomorrow afternoon, we’ll give you a makeover. Face, nails… the full works. Don’t you worry! You’re going to be a knockout.”
I glowed when Mum said that. She almost never praises me, so when she does it is doubly precious. By the time she’d finished giving me my makeover next day I hardly recognised myself! Actually, strictly speaking, that is not true. Mum is a professional. She doesn’t believe in turning people into what she calls “caricatures” of themselves – just bringing out the best in them. She didn’t use much make-up on me as she said my skin was too young to need it and I already had good strong colouring. (I glowed again!) But she styled my hair, so it wasn’t all wild and messy, and she put gorgeous green eye shadow on my eyes, and painted my nails with the purple varnish, and lent me one of her lipsticks, “Deep Ruby”, to use before I went on stage.
“There!” she said. “See what a difference it makes? Now you look like a real rock star!”
Looking like one made me feel like one. The Top Spot contest was due to start at six thirty, so Mum drove me to school in plenty of time.
“The last thing you need is to be in a rush. I don’t want you getting all hot and bothered and ruining my hard work!”
I was feeling so secure it didn’t even rattle me when I heard that Marigold had taken a poll of Year 7 and “Eighty per cent of people said they’re going to vote for her sister!” It was Ashlee who told me, all bright-eyed and challenging. Like, What have you got to say to that? I didn’t have anything to say to it. I thought it was stupid. This was a talent contest, not a general election. How could you know who you were going to vote for until you’d heard them sing?
A girl from Year 8 advised me to take no notice. “They just told Marigold what they thought would make her happy.”
I decided that she was right, and that I would simply forget about it. I had more important things to think about than Marigold and her stupid poll!
When the notice about Top Spot had originally gone up on the board loads of people had put their names down, but over the weeks the numbers had dwindled as people got cold feet and pulled out. Now there were only thirty acts competing. We were strictly limited to three minutes each, including introduction and applause. The rules had been explained to us.
“If you take the full three minutes, we’ll have to cut the applause. It’s up to you.”
Well, I’d timed myself really carefully, with the help of Mrs P. I’d worked out that I could introduce myself, and say how I’d written the song with Josh, in just a matter of seconds, which gave me a good two and a half minutes for the song, and almost half a minute for applause – if anyone felt like clapping that long! Mrs P had warned me that “Half a minute may not sound very much, but you try clapping for that length of time and you’ll find it goes on for ever!”
We were told that the running order had been chosen by pulling names out of a hat. I was number twenty-eight, which I thought was good. It’s always better to be near the end than at the beginning. On the other hand, Mary-Louise Johnson, damn and blast, was number thirty. Someone said rather jealously that it had obviously been fixed, but I didn’t really see why they would do that. I thought more probably she was just one of those people that was naturally lucky.
We all gathered in the wings so that we could watch what everyone else was doing. Some of the acts were really pathetic. A boy from Year 12 sang an Elton John number and had everyone falling about. The thing is, it wasn’t meant to be funny. But his voice kept cracking up and he couldn’t stay in tune! Then a Year 11 girl tried to be Madonna. Oh, please! How could she? It was so embarrassing.
Several people, as a matter of fact, came on pretending to be someone else. We had a Christina Aguilera lookalike followed by Katie Melua. Both of them totally rubbish. Christina Aguilera had a voice like a bluebottle trapped in a marmalade jar, bzzzz bzzzz bzzzz. The other one sounded like a demented car alarm. No competition there!
But then a Britney Spears came on, and my heart sank because she not only looked like Britney she actually sounded like her. She got a really big round.
The girl who came after her wasn’t too bad, either. Like a miniature version of Jamelia, though I don’t think she was actually trying to be. She just was. I reckoned she was a possible winner.
After Jamelia there was a boy band from Year 9 that I felt a bit sorry for. They were really cute and they tried really hard, but they were just so bad! Some people actually started sniggering. I thought that was unkind and I was glad when the audience broke into a huge round of applause.
But then there was an all-girls group calling themselves the Sugar Cubes from Year 10, and I had to admit that they were quite good. The audience obviously loved them; at the end I even heard wolf whistles and stamping feet. Mary-Louise sniffed and said, “Groupies!” but I thought that I wouldn’t mind having groupies. Mum and Mrs P were out there, and Josh and Indy, and Indy’s mum and Josh’s mum and dad, and I knew they would all vote for me, but I couldn’t see them stamping their feet or whistling.
When it came to my turn I thought that maybe I would get stage fright again, like I had before, when I sang to the old people. I remembered how my throat had closed up, and how I’d gone all cold and shivery. But it didn’t happen! I could hardly wait to get out there and start singing. I did my introduction, then switched on Josh’s tape – and that was it. I was away!
Star crazy me
Floatin’ free-ee-ee
Into the ether of
Eternity…
Oh, I loved every second of it! I think I must be a natural born performer. I could have gone on and on. I was almost tempted to! But one boy had already run over his three minutes, which everybody agreed was totally bad manners and extremely unprofessional, so I contented myself with just repeating the first verse. I couldn’t resist! It still gave plenty of time for applause. As I came off, Christina Aguilera whispered, “Way to go!” She seemed to be encouraging me, so I immediately felt mean for thinking that her voice sounded like a bluebottle, even if it did.
The next act after me was a boy who played the drums (not very well) and a girl who screeched. She did! She screeched. It was horrible, like a fingernail scraping on a blackboard. Mary-Louise said, “Forget it!”
And then she was out there herself, all shimmering and shining in a sort of silver catsuit which would have been utterly grotesque on anyone else. She, unfortunately
, has a figure to die for, and is gorgeous with it. She doesn’t have much in the way of a voice, but I thought probably that didn’t matter; she was so beautiful she could get away with anything. Besides, not everyone cares about voices the way I do. They are almost the first thing I notice about a person. I know that it’s the same for Mrs P, which I think is why we get on so well, in spite of her being ancient and not really caring for my sort of music.
The applause for Mary-Louise went on for ever. Katie Melua said, “Well! That’s it, then. We all know who’s going to win.”
One of the Sugar Cubes said it was like a foregone conclusion. “She was always going to win… people like her always do. They don’t have any talent, but what’s talent got to do with it?”
I thought that was quite brave of her. It was what I’d been thinking myself, but I wouldn’t ever have dared say so in case anyone accused me of sour grapes. We all agreed, glumly, that Mary-Louise would win just because she was Mary-Louise and had a following. The only question was, who was going to come second?
After we’d all sung we had a short break while the audience got to register their votes and the votes got to be counted. The boy who had done the Elton John number said, “If I don’t come second I’ll demand a recount!” At least he had a sense of humour. I don’t think the rest of us did!
At the end of the break we all filed back on stage and sat down on chairs arranged in a semicircle. The three experts sat to one side, while Mr Monckton, who is head of music, took the microphone and prepared to announce the winners. I couldn’t help sneaking glances at Topaze. I thought that if Mary-Louise was pretty, Topaze was just, like, stunning. Tall, and slim, and golden brown and beautiful. It was hard to believe she had once been a pupil at our dead ordinary school.
Mr Monckton said, “Right! The moment we’ve all been waiting for… two third places, one from the panel of experts, who chose… Martina Olivera!”
The Jamelia girl.
“And from the audience… The Sugar Cubes!”
Big round of applause. Jamelia and the Sugar Cubes bounded forward to receive their awards. It was the man from the local record store who presented them.
“And in second place, from the panel of experts…”
This was the moment when my throat really did close up.
“The Sugar Cubes!”
Again.
“And the choice of our audience…”
Please, I thought. Please. I was starting to feel sick.
“Emily Hadcock!”
Britney Spears. I knew they’d choose her. I watched, dismally, but hiding my true feelings, as the Sugar Cubes bounded forward for the second time, followed by Emily. Now it was the man from the local radio who presented the awards. Topaze was obviously being kept for the winners.
“And finally, in the Top Spot…”
In the Top Spot, in the Top Spot… it was one of those moments when time stood still. I could feel my whole body pulsating, my heart thudding and pounding, tidal waves roaring in my ears. I can’t bear it, I thought, I can’t bear it! I can’t ever go through this again!
“In the Top Spot we have just the one winner. Our panel and the audience are in agreement!”
My heart sank. That was it. Finish. I hadn’t come anywhere! I hadn’t even come third. A cold layer of sweat broke out all over me. I had to swallow, very hard, to stop from being sick. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mary-Louise. Heads were already turning in her direction. She was practically half out of her seat.
“The winner of the Top Spot contest, by unanimous vote…”
There she went! Couldn’t even wait for the announcement.
“…is Carmen Bell!”
What??? I couldn’t believe it. I just couldn’t believe it! I stood rooted to the spot, unable to move. Someone said, “Carmen, it’s you!” and gave me a shove, which brought me to my senses and made me go catapulting forward so fast I tripped over my own feet and went sprawling. It was Topaze who helped me up. Topaze! My idol! The audience just went completely wild. They were laughing, but clapping at the same time. They seemed really happy for me.
I can honestly say it was THE MOST WONDERFUL MOMENT OF MY LIFE. I still couldn’t quite get my head round it. Me. They’d voted for me! I don’t think Mary-Louise could quite get her head round it, either, cos she was shooting really filthy looks in my direction. Not at all professional! Everyone knows you have to smile and make like you’re happy, even if your heart is breaking. I would have smiled; I was all prepared for it. Pride wouldn’t have let me do anything else. As it is, I could feel myself beaming from ear to ear.
Topaze said, “Congratulations!” Her voice was cool and husky, just like when she sings. “You’re obviously going to go places. I’m sure we’ll meet on the circuit one of these days!”
I tried to say something – like maybe a thank you would have been nice – but all I could do was stupidly grin. And the audience were still going wild!
Everyone on stage crowded round to congratulate me, except for Mary-Louise. They all seemed genuinely pleased that I’d won. Maybe they thought that if they couldn’t win themselves then they’d rather it was me than anyone else. They kept saying things like “Well done!” and “You deserved it!” Then I had to have my photo taken – with Topaze and the prize I’d been presented with! – and I just felt so glad that Mum had given me a makeover. I said anxiously to the reporter, “You will say that I wrote the song with Josh, won’t you?” and he promised that he would and made a note of Josh’s name on his pad.
Afterwards, when it was all over, we went out for a special celebration: me and Mum and Mrs P, Indy and her mum, Josh and his mum and dad. It turned out that Josh’s mum and dad had heard of Mrs P. They were quite in awe of her! She must have been a really big name in her day. They promised they would give her a lift back home, and I was glad about that cos I just hated the thought of her being mugged again.
Indy said, “Well, come on, let’s have a look at what they gave you!”
“It’s just a chunk of glass,” I said. But of course it wasn’t just a chunk of glass. It was a chunk of glass with a tiny golden disc embedded in it, and round the side the words Winner of the Ravenspark Top Spot Contest.
“Why haven’t you got two?” said Indy. “You came top twice!”
I said that they were probably going to recycle the other prize and use it for something else, next year. “I don’t s’pose they expected the same person to win both sections.”
“I did,” said Mrs P. “I most certainly did!” And then she leaned across the table and took my hand and said, “Congratulations, my dear! You’ve made an old woman very happy.”
That was one of the best moments. I knew that next time I went for a lesson she’d be back at her niggling and nagging, asking me if I’d done my exercises, telling me to “Use that diaphragm!”, but I would always remember that I had made her happy.
Josh’s dad had ordered champagne. He held up his glass and said, “A toast! To Carmen.”
“And to Josh,” I said. “He helped me write the song!”
“Well, then, to both of you.”
Everyone solemnly raised their glasses and I felt a bit embarrassed, as I’ve never been toasted before. Josh looked even more embarrassed! I think he would have liked to hide under the table. But it was OK, good old Indy went and choked herself on champagne bubbles. She complained that “They come down your nose!” What with all the coughing and the spluttering, people stopped concentrating on me and Josh and started thumping Indy on the back and stuffing napkins at her. It was quite a relief!
At the end of the evening, Mum called a cab. Practically unheard of! But Mum said it was such a special occasion it would be a shame to ruin it by catching a bus. To be honest, I’m not sure Mum would know how to catch a bus, but she certainly couldn’t drive cos of all the champagne, which had made her a bit giggly, so we rode home in fine style.
In the cab Mum stopped giggling and became serious. “Your nan would hav
e been so proud of you,” she said. “And I’m proud of you, too! Whoever would have thought it? I’m going to be the mother of Carmen Bell!”
That set me giggling. “Mum,” I said, “you already are!”
“I suppose I am,” she said, “aren’t I? I always have been… I just never realised what a talented daughter I had.” And then she hugged me, which is something she almost never does. “It seems I’ve got a lot of catching up to do… I’m going to start boasting about it straight away!”
Also by Jean Ure
Hunky Dory
Gone Missing
Over the Moon
Boys Beware
Sugar and Spice
Is Anybody There?
Secret Meeting
Passion Flower
Shrinking Violet
Boys on the Brain
Skinny Melon and Me
Becky Bananas, This is Your Life!
Fruit and Nutcase
The Secret Life of Sally Tomato*
Family Fan Club
Special three-in-one editions
The Tutti-Frutti Collection
The Flower Power Collection
The Friends Forever Collection
and for younger readers
Dazzling Danny
Daisy May
Monster in the Mirror
*Also available on tape, read by John Pickard
Copyright
For Eloise Slaughter
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2008
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,
77-85 Fulham Palace Road, Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is
www.harpercollinschildrensbooks.co.uk
1
Text © Jean Ure 2008
Illustrations © HarperCollinsPublishers 2008
The author and illustrator assert the moral right to be
identified as the author and illustrator of this work.
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