by Ann Bryant
While Mum was getting the tea ready, Jasmine and I stayed up in my room.
“I don’t know what Papa’s going to say,” said Jasmine.
“Your dad?”
She nodded. “You know he hates ballet.”
“Yes, but he lets you do it, doesn’t he?”
“He doesn’t mind at the moment, because he’s no idea how much practice I do and how much I love it.”
“Will he be cross that you’re doing the exam?”
“He might not let me do the extra lessons – then I won’t be able to do the exam either.”
“Oh no!” I felt so sorry for poor Jasmine. “Couldn’t you ask your mum not to tell him?”
Jasmine’s eyes went massive as she shook her head.
I knew as soon as I said it that it was a silly idea. Jasmine’s dad’s quite scary. Jasmine’s told me that she’s only allowed to carry on with ballet until she’s eleven and then her dad wants her to concentrate on school work and the piano.
“You’re not eleven for ages, Jasmine. So surely your dad won’t mind.”
She did a big sigh. “I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t realize how much ballet practice I’m doing. Otherwise, he’ll only start going on about how I’m neglecting my school work and how unnatural it is to do all that stretching and turning out and everything.”
“It’s better than turning in.” I knew I was sounding a bit stroppy, but I couldn’t help it. I’d made myself remember Rose again. “I felt quite sorry for Rose Bedford at first, but I don’t now. I wish Miss Coralie had made her stand next to someone who was good at steps, then it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d kept pestering them.”
“Never mind her. Let’s try out the new steps,” said Jasmine, jumping up.
But before you could say sequence, my door was pushed open and Stevie stood there looking rather guilty. “It’s teatime.”
“Have you been listening outside my bedroom door, Stevie?”
“I only heard the bit about Rose Bedford. What did she do?”
“Nothing,” I said. But Jasmine had spoken at the same time.
“She put Poppy off and now Poppy can’t do the exam.”
Stevie wasn’t even listening. “She’s cool, she is!”
Jasmine gave him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
I put on a bit of a sneery voice. “Stevie thinks anyone who plays with Archie Cook is cool.”
“Who’s Archie Cook?”
“Only the best footballer in the whole school!” said Stevie. “He lets me join in sometimes. He says I’m quite good for a year two.”
“Come on, you lot. It’ll go cold!” came Mum’s voice from downstairs.
The moment my brother had raced off, Jasmine put her arm round me. “We’ll work on the new sequence after tea, shall we?”
“Okay, but I don’t think it’ll make any difference,” I said in a glum voice.
“Yes, it will!” said Jasmine. Then she stuck her thumb up in the air. “Come on!” I put my thumb against hers, closed my eyes and made my silent wish.
Please let Miss Coralie change her mind next week.
5 Is It All a Trick?
The next morning at school was good fun because in literacy hour we were listening to music to help us with creative writing. Miss Morrison played my very favourite piece of music in the whole world – Waltz of the Flowers from The Nutcracker Suite. I was the last one out to play after the lesson because I wanted to finish off what I was writing. I’d only just gone out of the year-five door, when I saw Rose Bedford with Tom Priest and Archie Cook.
It gave me a bit of a shock when Rose started talking to me as though we were best friends. “Hi. I’ve been waiting ages. I thought you must be away.”
Tom Priest was grinning in a horrible way. “Do you do ballet?” he said to me.
I tried to sound not bothered. “Yeah. So what?”
Archie Cook put his arms up into fifth position – at least, what he thought fifth position was – and started turning round on tiptoe like one of those little ballet dancers in a musical box.
I didn’t say anything, just started to walk away.
“They’re being silly. Take no notice,” said Rose.
I kept walking because I didn’t want to talk to Rose.
But she was following me. “Were you fed up that you weren’t chosen for the exam?” she asked.
I felt like turning round and snapping: It’s all your fault, you know! But I didn’t dare, so I just shook my head and walked a bit faster. I could see my friends, Mia and Alice, on the other side of the playground.
Rose was talking again. “I’m giving up at the end of term. I don’t like it.”
That made me turn round. “Why are you doing it then?”
“My mum’s making me because Granny gave it to me for my birthday.”
“What do you mean?”
“My present was one term’s ballet lessons, even though she knew I’d absolutely hate it.”
“Why did she give you ballet lessons if she knew that you don’t like ballet?”
“I think she wants me to stop being a tomboy and start wearing skirts more and things like that.”
At our school, girls are allowed to wear trousers. I couldn’t imagine Rose ever wearing a skirt, even if she did ballet for a hundred years.
“So you’re definitely giving it up?” I knew it was horrible of me, but I wanted to be sure I wasn’t going to have to put up with her for any longer than one term.
“Yeah.” She suddenly did one of the kind of jumps where you have to beat your feet in the air. “Is this right?”
It wasn’t, but I nodded anyway. Then I turned, because Mia and Alice were waving to tell me to come over.
Rose grabbed my arm. “Can you show me how to do it properly, Poppy?”
I didn’t really want to, but I thought that maybe, if I just showed her quickly, she’d leave me alone.
“You start like this, okay?” She copied my third position quite well. “Then you bend your knees out to the side…”
A big snorty noise from the other side of the playground made Rose and I turn round at exactly the same moment.
Archie and Tom were by the drinking fountain pointing at me, and laughing.
“Shut up, you two!” called Rose. But, when she turned back, I saw that she was grinning like mad. “Yeah, what do you do next?”
I suddenly realized I’d still got my legs bent in a plié, which must have looked totally stupid. A terrible thought came into my head. I bet Rose tricked me into showing her the beats specially so her friends could make fun of me.
At that moment, I hated Rose Bedford. I really did.
6 Making the Air Swirl
On Saturday afternoon I went to Jasmine’s house. Her dad was out. I was glad he wasn’t there, because he’s so scary. It’s not just ballet he’s strict about, it’s things like playing with friends and watching television.
Jasmine’s mum’s not half as strict. I expect she guessed that Jasmine and I would be practising ballet up in Jasmine’s room, but she just said, “I’m sorry you are down in the dumps about the exam, Poppy.” I liked the way Jasmine’s mum sounded, all gentle. She’s got a lovely accent because she’s French.
As soon as we were on our own, I asked Jasmine if her dad minded the extra class.
“He’s a bit annoyed about it, but I’m allowed to do it, thank goodness.”
“Hey, that’s brill, Jazz! Did you start the exam dance?”
Her eyes sparkled. “Yes! That’s why I asked Maman if you could come round. You see, I thought I could teach you the part we learned so you’ll really know it well when Miss Coralie starts teaching the whole class on Tuesday. Then she’ll definitely change her mind about the exam!”
Jasmine’s bedroom is much bigger than mine, but we made it even bigger by clearing everything off the floor and putting her beanbag on the bed. We changed into our ballet things and did a proper warm-up so we wouldn’t strain any muscles. Then we
spent ages and ages making sure I could do every single step of the dance perfectly.
“Right,” said Jasmine. “Now for the sequence.”
So then we worked on that too. But we didn’t just go through it normally. We added a few extra bits to make it more interesting.
“Let’s put it to music!” Jasmine suddenly said.
“Yesss! Waltz of the Flowers!”
We had to change the timing but it was brilliant fun.
“I know it’s a funny thing to say, but the air in this room feels different, doesn’t it? As though we’ve made it swirl around because we’ve been dancing so much.” I felt a bit stupid saying it, but it was what I felt inside.
Jasmine nodded and danced her fingers through the air as though she was testing it out. Then she stopped and said, “Shall we ask Maman to come and watch?”
At that moment, there was a knock at the door.
“Great, she’s here!” said Jasmine, pulling open the door. “Maman, do you want…”
It wasn’t Jasmine’s mum, though. It was her dad. A big smile covered his whole face. But when he saw that I was there, and that both of us were wearing our ballet leotards, the smile started to slide away.
“Hello, Papa!” said Jasmine, giving him a hug.
“Hello, Doctor Ayed,” I said. Only my voice didn’t come out properly because I was nervous, so it sounded like: “Hell Doc Ay”.
“And what are you two doing?”
“Just…dancing…” said Jasmine. She sounded as nervous as I felt.
It must feel really strange to be scared of your dad, like Jasmine is. I’m glad I’m not afraid of mine.
“I can see that. But what, exactly?”
“Just making up a dance for fun, that’s all.”
Doctor Ayed frowned as though Jasmine had said something in a strange foreign language. “Hm…” Then he gave her what I call a thin lips smile. It’s the sort of smile that grown-ups give you when they’ve got some cross things to say but they’re saving it up for later. “I think tea will be ready soon.”
When he’d gone, the air stopped swirling around and stayed quite still. So we sat on Jasmine’s bed and I told her about Rose.
“I could tell she only got me to show her the jumps to make the boys laugh, Jazz.”
“That was mean of her.”
“I know. But I got her back, because when she tried to sit on my table at lunchtime I made sure there wasn’t a space anywhere near.”
“Good. That showed her!”
“I know. And the next day she started talking to me in the playground, but Tom and Archie were with her so I didn’t even reply. I think she knows I don’t want to be friends now, because today she didn’t come anywhere near me.”
“At least that means she’ll definitely leave you alone at ballet next week.”
I couldn’t help feeling a little judder of excitement. But it only lasted for about a second, then my body went all floppy like a wet tea towel. “It won’t make any difference.”
“Yes, it will!” said Jasmine, linking her arm with mine. “We’re going to get Miss Coralie to change her mind, and that’s that!”
“Do you really really think she might?”
“Course I do.”
And this time I got a little tickle of excitement that didn’t turn into a wet-towel feeling, but grew into a lovely big burst of sunshiny hope.
7 Trapped in the Circle
On Tuesday, I got more and more excited as the day went on. I’m always like this on Tuesdays, because it’s ballet after school. I wish it could be ballet after school every single day. But this Tuesday was especially important. I had christened it Last-Chance Tuesday.
At morning break, I rushed outside with Mia and Alice, but stopped when I heard Rose’s voice behind me.
“Hey, Poppy…”
“What?” I asked, turning round.
I got quite a shock. She was standing very straight with her hair scraped right back and not a bump in sight. On her face was a proud grin.
“Thought I’d get myself all ready today, then I won’t be late! Look!” She turned round and I saw that she’d even twizzled her ponytail into a bun and gripped it in place.
I didn’t know what to say. The trouble was, if I acted nice and friendly, Rose would only start talking in the middle of ballet, and it would be absolutely terrible if she put me off again. So I just said, “Oh yeah,” and hoped she’d go away.
But she didn’t. And to make everything double bad, a group of grinning boys suddenly appeared. They made a circle round us and I felt a bit scared standing in the middle with Rose.
“Ro’s getting girlie!” chanted Tom and Archie. “Ro’s getting girlie!”
“I am not!” screeched Rose, sticking her neck out and nearly spitting, she was so cross. “Get lost, you lot!”
But they didn’t.
I really wanted to escape and leave Rose to sort the boys out, but something was stopping me. It was a funny thought to be thinking, but Rose with a neat bun seemed like a different girl from tomboy Rose. And I would have felt horrible leaving this new Rose with all those nasty boys.
“Talking to your little ballet friend?” asked Alex in a high-pitched voice.
“With your little bunny-bun-bun!” said Tom.
The other boys just laughed and started going round on tiptoe with bent legs and high arms, because that’s the only ballet step boys know.
“Rosie Posie does ballet! Rosie Posie’s getting girlie!” they all chanted.
“I am not! And don’t call me that!” yelled Rose.
That only made them chant louder. “Rosie Posie! Rosie Posie!”
I could tell she was getting really furious, staring at the boys as though she would burst with anger. Then she suddenly reached round to the back of her head and started tugging. One or two hairgrips fell to the ground. Next she ripped the elastic band off her ponytail. It must have really hurt her because she did it so roughly. She shook her head hard a few times, and her hair fell round her shoulders, so she was back to normal.
The boys stopped going round and round and stared at her.
She stared right back, with black eyes flashing in an angry white face, and spoke in a sneery voice. “Did someone switch off the music box?”
Then she punched Tom on the arm and, while he was clutching it, pushed her way past him and ran away laughing.
“I’ll get you back, Ro! You wait!”
Tom roared after Rose and I was left standing there.
Archie Cook pointed at my face and started a new chant. “Poppy is pathetic!” Then the others joined in. “Poppy is pathetic! Poppy is pathetic!”
“I am not!” I said, trying to sound strong and stroppy like Rose had done. But it didn’t work.
A boy called Dillon started sneering. “Why d’you do ballet then?”
“Yeah, why d’you do it?” said Archie, laughing.
I took a deep breath to try and make my voice come out louder. “I’m not the only one,” I said.
“Hey, Ro’s told me what the teacher’s called,” said Dillon, grinning round the circle. “Miss Coralie!”
Archie started pointing his toes in a really silly way and saying, “Ooh-hoo, look at me, Miss Coralie!”
I could feel my heart beating near my throat. That probably meant that I was going to cry in a minute, so I knew I had to get out of the circle at once. If only Mia and Alice would come over and save me. I could see them talking to the teacher in the far corner of the playground. She was smiling and nodding at them.
I pressed my thumbs together hard.
Please look over in this direction. Please look over in this direction.
But they didn’t.
Archie started jumping from foot to foot, pointing his toes in a really clumsy way. I couldn’t bear it for a second longer. I’d just have to act like Rose for once. That was the only way I was ever going to get away. Before I could change my mind, I gave Archie a big shove on the chest and called out some
words that I’d heard once on telly. “Shut up, skank brain!”
It gave me a shock when he lost his balance and fell over. “Yowwwch! You’ve made me break my wrist now!” he screeched.
The boys all went quiet then and one of them bent down beside Archie. “You all right?”
Archie just clutched his wrist tightly and made little grunting noises as he stared at it with his face all screwed up. I wished I could go back in time and undo my big shove.
“What’s going on here!”
Mrs. Appleton was striding over looking furious. Now I felt as though someone was trying to squeeze the air out of me.
“Poppy pushed Archie over,” said Dillon, giving me a horrible look.
“Sorry,” I said. But I didn’t have any spit in my mouth because of being so worried and my sorry came out as a teeny little whisper.
Mrs. Appleton was bending down beside Archie, speaking in a soothing voice.
“Just try moving it very gently, dear. That’s right. Does it hurt when you do that?”
“Aargh!” yelped Archie. “It’s agony.”
Mrs. Appleton nodded. “Come on, let’s get you on your feet… At least it’s not broken.”
“My back hurts too,” said Archie in a really whiny voice. Then he gave me a horrible scowl. “And my chest…”
Mrs. Appleton suddenly swung round to look at me. “What do you think you’re playing at, Poppy? This isn’t the way to behave! Imagine what it’d be like if Miss Cherry felt a bit cross with me and decided to push me over! That wouldn’t do at all, would it?”
I shook my head and tried to think of something to say that would show Mrs. Appleton I wasn’t completely horrible. “Erm… you see…the thing is…Archie said ballet was stupid…”
“Well, I’m sorry, Poppy, but I’m afraid that is absolutely no excuse for knocking him flat! The poor boy’s hurt his wrist and has probably got a bit of a bruise on his…lower back.”
“It’s really painful, Miss,” said Archie, clutching his bottom and screwing up his face.