The Students at Step Out Studio
For Abi, who has always
inspired me
Contents
Title Page
The Students at Step Out Studio
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Enter Arlene’s World of Dance …
The Alana Dancing Star Series
By the Same Author
About the Author
Copyright
‘Watch out, Alana!’ shouted the teacher.
‘Ouch,’ yelped Alana, falling over as the netball hit her on the head.
Before she could get up again, Meena grabbed the ball for the opposite team and passed it to the Goal Attack, who scored the winning goal.
The whistle blew. ‘Game over!’ called the teacher.
As Alana’s team filed off the court, she could hear them muttering angrily. ‘It’s all that Alana’s fault,’ groaned Thea. ‘We would have won if she actually tried to catch the ball instead of staring into space.’
‘Leave her alone,’ ordered Keisha, the team captain. ‘You can’t be good at everything. Alana may not be great at netball, but she can dance better than anyone in the school.’
‘Oh, well, that’ll come in handy at a netball game,’ replied Thea, sarcastically. ‘Maybe she could try boogieing round the court – then we’re bound to win!’
Alana listened to the conversation miserably, but she didn’t say anything. Her head was hurting from where the ball had hit her.
As she was getting changed out of her PE kit, Meena came to sit beside her. ‘Never mind,’ she said. ‘It’s only a stupid game.’
Meena’s team may have just beaten Alana’s at netball, but the two girls were best friends and they certainly weren’t going to let something like that come between them.
To Alana’s embarrassment, her eyes filled with tears.
‘Hey,’ called Keisha, coming over. ‘What’s the matter? You’re not crying because of the game, are you? Even I don’t think it’s that important, and netball’s my favourite thing!’
‘I know it’s stupid,’ said Alana, her voice shaking a bit. ‘But I honestly do try to throw straight and catch the ball and I just can’t seem to get the hang of it. And Thea and the others are so mean – it’s just making me dread PE lessons.’
‘Well, if it’s bothering you that much, why don’t I help you out with some extra coaching at lunchtimes?’ suggested Keisha.
‘Would you really?’ asked Alana.
‘Sure – why not?’ Keisha shrugged. ‘It’s not like you can’t run fast – you’re ultra-fit from all the dancing you do. So we just need to work on your hand-eye coordination – that’s all.’
‘Thanks, Keisha, you’re a good friend,’ said Alana, wiping her eyes and smiling weakly.
The bell rang for the end of the school day. ‘Eek,’ squealed Meena. ‘We’ll have to hurry if we’re going to get to Step Out Studio in time. You know what Miss Trina’s like if you’re late.’
Step Out Studio was the place where Alana, Meena and Keisha went to dance classes. It was Alana’s favourite part of the week, by far, because she loved to dance more than anything in the world. Immediately her face brightened. She quickly flung her sports kits into her locker, grabbed her dance bag and was standing at the door, tapping her feet impatiently before the others had even taken their PE kit off.
Miss Trina stood at the front of the dance studio, looking as elegant as ever. She wore her cashmere crossover cardigan and her shiny hair was tightly pulled back. She cleared her throat, and immediately all the dance students stopped their warm-up exercises and fell silent.
‘Before we start our class today,’ said Miss Trina in her clear voice, ‘I have an announcement to make.’
The room suddenly became tense with expectation and all eyes were on Miss Trina.
‘You’ll all have heard of the new hit musical, Stage Sensation, that’s been touring the country,’ she continued.
There were murmurs of recognition round the room.
‘I’ve already been to the West End to see it!’ called Verity, smugly.
‘Well,’ went on Miss Trina, ignoring the interruption, ‘it’s going to be coming to our town and they need a children’s chorus. And this will be made up of students from Step Out Studio.’
There was a huge cheer and everyone started talking at once. Alana and Meena grinned at each other. Dancing in a real musical! How cool was that!
‘This is the best thing ever,’ squealed Keisha, coming up to them. ‘I love musicals.’
‘Oh yeah,’ replied Alana. ‘I’d forgotten – you’re always watching The Sound of Music, aren’t you?’
‘At least once a week!’ laughed Keisha. ‘And I’ve got this big book of show tunes I play on the piano. I know loads of the lyrics off by heart. I never thought I’d get to perform in a real musical though!’
Miss Trina let the students talk for a few minutes, then she clapped her hands for silence again.
‘I’m going to send out a permission letter to all your parents, which they’ll need to sign,’ she continued. ‘And we’ll have to rehearse very hard. I will teach you the moves for the first couple of weeks, then the show’s choreographer will be taking over. So we’ll start right now, today. Everyone form a straight line and I am going to teach you a step-kick combination. We’ll begin by rehearsing the grand finale, because that’s going to be the most difficult piece of choreography.’
Everyone stood in a long line, and Miss Trina put on the soundtrack from Stage Sensation. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘follow me: step touch, step kick, right hand to hip and cross feet followed by sharp turn! I want absolute precision. It has to look to the audience as though you are dancing as one, with clean, sharp, precise moves. Your steps need to be in time, and your kicks all at exactly the same height.’
The students concentrated hard as they danced. They were used to dancing individually or in pairs, and it took a great deal of focus to move at exactly the same time.
Stage Sensation had been in all the papers since it launched in London. Everywhere it went, it played to packed houses night after night. The story was set in the Second World War. It was about a young girl with an incredible voice who travelled round performing to the troops on the battle front. It had just been announced in the papers that there was going to be a new child star of the show – Mirabelle Montague, last year’s winner of Superstar Search, who’d wowed TV audiences with her amazing singing.
Miss Trina’s eyes looked up and down the line of students, and she called out words of praise or criticism as they moved. ‘Stay in line, Keisha!’ ‘Good, Meena!’ ‘Stretch your supporting knee when you kick, Matthew!’ ‘Keep your eye on the others, Keisha – this is not a solo – you all need to move as one.’
Miss Trina made them go over the same routine again and again, until, by the end of the lesson, everyone was sweating and exhausted.
As Alana changed back into her jeans after the practice, she could see Keisha on the other side of the row of pegs. She looked upset.
‘What’s up?’ asked Alana quietly. ‘I thought you were more excited than any of us about Stage Sensation.’
‘I am!’ whispered Keisha, a catch in her voice. ‘That’s why I’m upset – I couldn’t get anything right in the rehearsal today.’
‘But it’s only the first rehearsal we’ve done,’ said Alana, reassuringly. ‘We’ve all got loads of time to work on the choreography.’<
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‘Yes,’ moaned Keisha, ‘but everyone else was so much more together than me. I’m so tall, I just felt like my arms and legs were all over the place.’
‘I’m sure you’ll get better once we’ve had a few more rehearsals,’ said Alana.
But Keisha didn’t look convinced.
Two weeks later and Alana was at Step Out Studio to work on Stage Sensation. Everyone was tense with anticipation: this was the day the choreographer would take over the rehearsals. And, even more excitingly, Mirabelle Montague, the star of the show and last year’s winner of Superstar Search, was arriving as well.
The students didn’t have to wait long for Mirabelle. Just as they were starting some leg stretches, the double doors of the studio were opened by a mousy-looking woman with a worried expression, and in marched a girl whose face was very familiar from Saturday-night TV. Mirabelle Montague was wearing a pink leather jacket, a white vest top and white trousers. She had huge hoop earrings, white high heels, and a lot of mascara and pink lipstick. She looked much more than twelve years old.
Mirabelle paused in the doorway for effect, a smile hovering round her lips as the room fell silent. Then she flounced over to the nearest chair, flung herself into it with a sigh, and announced, ‘I need a Coke.’
‘Yes, of course, Mirabelle dear,’ said the mousy woman, and scuttled out of the room again.
The students were so transfixed with this little drama, they hadn’t noticed that someone else had also entered. Miss Trina clapped her hands for silence and Alana turned round. There, next to her, was the smallest woman Alana had ever seen. She had a tiny waist, delicate hands with long fingers, high cheekbones and cropped hair dyed bright red.
‘This,’ said Miss Trina, ‘is Miss Natasha Volkov, the choreographer of Stage Sensation.’ Miss Volkov nodded slightly, but did not smile.
‘She looks like she might blow over if she went too near an electric fan,’ whispered Keisha to Alana.
‘And this,’ said Miss Trina, beckoning Mirabelle over with a smile, ‘is Mirabelle Montague who will be the star of Stage Sensation. Please make her feel welcome.’
‘Hi everyone!’ said Mirabelle. ‘Don’t be nervous about meeting me. I’m just like all of you, really.’
Meena and Alana glanced at each other, trying not to laugh. Was she being serious?
‘Now, everyone into positions please for the dance in Act One!’ called Miss Volkov.
Immediately the students ran to their places, all except for Verity who didn’t seem to have heard. She was staring at Mirabelle, grinning like mad and trying, but failing, to catch her eye.
Verity was the richest and prettiest girl at Step Out Studio – but she was the nastiest, too. She was jealous of Alana because she was such a great dancer. It looked as though she was very impressed with Mirabelle, though.
A fierce voice rang out across the studio, making everyone jump. ‘You there by the window,’ shouted Miss Volkov. ‘Are you planning to join this rehearsal or not?’
Verity went bright red and ran sheepishly into position.
It didn’t take long for the students to realise that Miss Volkov was someone to be respected, even though she was so tiny. Again and again her voice carried across the room, criticising one student after another. And it was poor Keisha who came in for the worst of the comments.
‘No, no – raise your arms higher!’ cried Miss Volkov. ‘Every time you kick your lazy legs you are out of time!’
As Alana danced, she glanced at Keisha out of the corner of her eye and saw that her eyes were full of tears. All at once, Alana felt hot in the face. She was angry at this Miss Volkov who was upsetting her friend so much. She tried to smile encouragingly at Keisha, but Keisha seemed to be in her own world, a strained expression on her face as she attempted to move directly in line with the others. Each time Miss Volkov told her off, her dancing seemed to get worse: now even her arms were wrong.
At the end of the lesson, Keisha ran off and shut herself in the props cupboard. Alana followed her and knocked on the door. All she could hear was a muffled sobbing from inside. She pushed the door open to find Keisha sitting on a pile of feather boas, tears running down her cheeks. Alana squashed in beside her and put an arm around her.
Neither of them said anything for a while. Then Keisha hiccupped something through her tears.
‘What was that?’ asked Alana.
‘I said, Miss Volkov’s not going to let me be in the show if I don’t get any better.’
Alana squeezed her arm. ‘I’m sure she will,’ she said, trying to sound confident. But she feared Keisha might be right. Miss Volkov didn’t seem like the sort of person to let anyone into her show who wasn’t completely up to scratch.
The girls’ conversation was interrupted by Verity’s voice outside the closed door.
‘I think your singing is amazing!’ she said.
‘OK, thanks, whatever,’ said Mirabelle’s voice.
‘No, really!’ insisted Verity. ‘I watched you through all the audition stages on Superstar Search and I knew you were going to win the whole time.’
‘Yeah, I knew it too,’ replied Mirabelle, warming up a little bit in the glow of Verity’s flattery.
Inside the props cupboard, Keisha gave Alana a wobbly grin. Verity always said Superstar Search and shows like it were mindless entertainment – but it turned out she watched it after all.
‘Who’s that woman you came in with?’ continued Verity.
‘Oh her? That’s Boring Bridget,’ replied Mirabelle, dismissively. ‘My manager hires her to drive me around and fetch me stuff and things.’
‘Wow,’ said Verity. ‘It must be so cool to have someone to do everything for you.’
The girls’ voices faded away as they headed towards the locker rooms. ‘I feel sorry for Bridget,’ whispered Keisha, ‘having to put up with Mirabelle all the time.’
‘Me too!’ giggled Alana. ‘Anyway, let’s get changed and get out of here.’ They stood up with difficulty in the tiny space, then squeezed out of the cupboard. When they opened the door, Miss Trina was passing right on the other side. She raised her eyebrows when she saw them, but she didn’t say anything.
As the weeks went by, Alana, Keisha and Meena spent almost all their spare time rehearsing for the show, either at Step Out Studio, or by themselves at home. Meanwhile, every lunchtime at school, Keisha took Alana out to work on her netball skills. Gradually Alana was getting better at catching and scoring, and she’d stopped dreading PE lessons.
The same couldn’t be said for Keisha and her rehearsals with Miss Volkov. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ she groaned to Alana. They’d taken a break from netball practice and had flopped down in the school playground, leaning against a wall. ‘Miss Trina actually told me after rehearsal yesterday that Miss Volkov won’t let me be in the show if I don’t improve. It’s just not fair. I’m trying soooo hard. I’ll feel I’ve totally let my dad down if I don’t get to perform.’
‘Oh, I’m sure he’ll be OK about it,’ replied Alana. ‘He’ll know you tried your best.’
‘Trying my best isn’t good enough for him,’ sighed Keisha. ‘He expects so much of me. He’s always asking about what I’m up to, like it all has to be measured. “What marks are you getting at school? How many goals have you scored at netball? When are you going to get an audition for a professional dance part?” It never stops. And if I don’t give him the answers he wants, he doesn’t say anything. He just looks disappointed, which is worse than getting angry in a way.’
‘I can’t imagine what that must be like,’ replied Alana, sympathetically. ‘My dad’s not around at all, and I always think that’s rubbish. But maybe it’d be even worse to have a dad who’s always pushing you. My mum never expects anything of me except to be at home to look after my sister when she’s revising for her exams. She’s doing a computing diploma, but she can only study in the evenings because she has to work during the day.’
‘Families eh?’ sighed Keisha.
‘I could do with mine being a bit less interested in me, and you want yours to be a bit more interested in you.’
Alana nodded. ‘Anyway,’ she said, ‘it’s not as if Mirabelle is doing so well in rehearsals either.’
It was true. Although Mirabelle certainly had an amazing singing voice, she was having trouble getting her steps right. She hadn’t had the strict dance training of the Step Out Studio students. But what made it worse was that she wouldn’t listen to criticism.
‘No, Mirabelle,’ Miss Volkov would say. ‘You must turn your hips like this.’
‘I WAS doing that!’ Mirabelle would shout, and then she would flounce out of the room. Miss Volkov never said anything – she just watched her go with a steely look in her eye.
Mirabelle is a star, though, thought Alana. She isn’t going to be thrown out of the show. But Keisha might be – she actually might. I wish there was something I could do to help – especially when Keisha’s being so great at helping me with netball practice.
Alana sighed. I’ll just have to be encouraging and hope that Keisha improves in time for the show.
That evening, as Alana was walking home past Madame Coco’s Costume Emporium, the glow from the window seemed to beckon to her. Without really meaning to, she turned and pushed open the door.
Alana was greeted by the familiar smell – a mixture of greasepaint and leather and Madame Coco’s perfume. For a moment she thought the shop was empty – then she jumped with shock as a rail of costumes was pushed to one side and Madame Coco shimmied around it in a burst of song, her arms held high, her head back. ‘Bright lights on Broadwayyy!’ she warbled.
She didn’t notice Alana. Alana cleared her throat quietly, but Madame Coco was singing too loudly to hear. ‘They’re coming my wayyy!’ she trilled, spinning round.
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