Stage Sensation

by Arlene Phillips

  ‘Madame Coco!’ called Alana. ‘Madame COCO!’

  Madame Coco stopped singing abruptly and skidded to a stop. ‘Alana, ma chérie!’ she exclaimed, not looking at all embarrassed. ‘It is so many weeks since I have seen you. I thought you had forgotten me!’ She kissed Alana extravagantly on both cheeks.

  ‘Come and sit down, little one. I will make you some lemonade.’

  While Madame Coco was fetching Alana’s drink, Alana picked up the costumes that had been knocked off the rail during Madame Coco’s musical number. Then she sat down in a flowered armchair and gazed around. She never tired of looking at the rows of costumes for every type of dance, the shelves of shoes and sequins, fans and feathers. I wonder, she mused, whether Madame Coco would be able to give me some advice about how to help Keisha with her dancing. She’s helped me so many times before.

  When Madame Coco returned, she handed Alana some cloudy lemonade in a crystal glass. Then she sat down opposite her.

  ‘So, ma petite,’ she said. ‘You have a worry do you not?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Madame Coco!’ exclaimed Alana. ‘You must think I only come to see you to talk about my problems. But actually I love just to sit here and chat with you – and I love your shop as well.’

  ‘But that is why I am here,’ Madame Coco replied. ‘To listen. You can always tell me what is troubling you.’

  ‘It’s my friend Keisha, actually,’ sighed Alana. And she told her all about Keisha’s love of musicals and how much she wanted to be in Stage Sensation, but how difficult she was finding it to dance in the chorus line.

  Madame Coco listened carefully, then she closed her eyes and sank into thought. She stayed like that for so long that Alana was starting to fear she might have fallen asleep. But then suddenly she got up and bustled off to the back of the shop. ‘I have a costume you must try!’ she called as she went. She returned after a moment with a waistcoat and jacket completely covered with gold sequins and an exquisite gold leotard and jewelled tights. They all sparkled so brightly Alana could hardly look at them. She threw them on to Alana’s lap. ‘Go and put these on,’ she ordered.

  Obediently, Alana disappeared into the mirrored changing room. She had no idea why Madame Coco wanted her to try on this costume or what it had to do with Keisha’s problems. She trusted her, though, and she knew better than to argue. After a few minutes, she emerged to look at herself in the full-length antique mirror that stood in the middle of the shop.

  Madame Coco assessed her thoughtfully. She sprayed Alana’s hair with some water, then scraped it right back into a bun. Then she climbed up a ladder to one of the high shelves and rummaged in some boxes. ‘Here, take these,’ she called, and passed down to Alana a top hat, also covered in gold sequins, and a gold cane. Lastly, she gave Alana some sparkly gold dance shoes.

  When Alana had put everything on, Madame Coco looked at her approvingly. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘show me one of the dances from Stage Sensation.’

  Alana found a space in the middle of the shop floor and, imagining the music in her head, she started the Rockette-style kick line routine from the finale. Almost as soon as she’d started to dance, she felt a whirling sensation and the ground seemed to disappear from under her. Alana closed her eyes. She could hear Madame Coco calling, as though from a great distance, ‘Remember, ma petite, when your good deed is done, the call of home will beckon. You will return home! You will return home!’

  Still she kept dancing, although it felt as though there was nothing beneath her feet. Madame Coco’s voice faded away and was replaced by some music that sounded familiar, although she couldn’t quite place it. She could feel the wooden floor beneath her feet again but she could sense that she was no longer in Madame Coco’s shop.

  When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a room that she immediately recognised as a theatre dressing room. There were the usual rows of mirrors surrounded by light bulbs. Alana could see herself reflected in them over and over, her gold sequins sparkling. Clothes rails like the ones in Madame Coco’s shop held costumes of every description. A long dressing table ran around the wall, cluttered with make-up, face wipes, bottles of lotion and personal belongings – handbags, good-luck cards and mascots.

  Looking up, Alana drew in her breath. On a row of hooks at the back of the room were about twenty sets of gold waistcoats and jackets, all exactly like hers. On a shelf above them, gold top hats and canes were piled high.

  As Alana stared at them, wondering what it all meant, she heard a muffled sob from behind her. She swung round to see that on a chair in a corner, half hidden by some costumes, there was a girl of about her own age. She was making a peculiar, hoarse hiccuppy sort of noise. Alana eventually worked out she was crying.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Alana, drawing the costumes to one side and letting some light into the dark corner. The girl jumped up, startled, and looked at her, blinking a little. Her eyes were rimmed with red as though she’d been crying for a long time.

  ‘Everything’s the matter,’ she croaked, melodramatically. ‘I’ve got laryngitis!’ She looked at Alana as though expecting her to say something in reply.

  ‘Er, you’ve got laryn-what?’ asked Alana.

  ‘Gitis!’ replied the girl, impatiently. ‘I’ve lost my voice! It means I can’t perform tonight! And my understudy is stuck in San Francisco – there’s a thick fog so her plane can’t take off. She definitely won’t get back before tomorrow. And it’s impossible to find another child performer at the last minute. The choreographer is furious with me, even though it’s not my fault.’

  ‘That’s so unfair,’ said Alana, sympathetically. ‘But what show is it?’

  ‘It’s Bright Lights on Broadway of course!’ replied the girl, hoarsely.

  ‘Oh, that’s so cool!’ exclaimed Alana. ‘I saw that a couple of years ago. It was the proper West End production and it came on tour to my town.’

  The girl looked at Alana as if she were a bit crazy. ‘Bright Lights on Broadway is a brand-new show,’ she said. ‘It’s the premiere tonight.’

  ‘Oh,’ stammered Alana. ‘Oh … yeah … sorry, I must have been remembering something else.’

  She thought fast. Where was she? And when? The girl spoke with an American accent so she must be in the USA – and if this was the premiere of the show then she must be in New York on Broadway itself – the home of musical theatre.

  I must have gone back in time, she thought, if this is the show’s first night. So what year is it? She didn’t want to ask that question in case the girl thought she was crazy. Then her eyes lit up as she spied a newspaper lying on the table nearby. She wandered over to it, casually, and glanced at the date. 7 June 1986. Alana tried not to panic. It felt really weird to be here when she wouldn’t even be born for over ten more years!

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked the girl, curiously. ‘You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.’

  ‘Nothing! I’m fine!’ Alana replied, trying to sound breezy.

  ‘Anyway,’ the girl continued, her eyes narrowing a little. ‘Who are you?’ She looked Alana up and down, taking in her gold waistcoat and top hat. ‘Why are you dressed up in one of our costumes? You don’t belong here. Hey! Did you just walk in off the street and barge into our dressing room?’

  ‘No, no,’ stuttered Alana, desperately trying to work out how to explain herself. ‘Erm, you see I’ve got this friend Keisha at my dance school,’ she began, playing for time.

  ‘Dance school?’ interrupted the girl. ‘You go to dance school?’

  ‘Erm … yes,’ stammered Alana.

  ‘Have you ever done any musical theatre work?’

  ‘Well, I’m rehearsing for a show at the moment, actually,’ Alana replied. ‘But I’ve never performed in a musical before, and I’ve never sung, except in the shower.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ said the girl, excitedly. She’d obviously forgotten all about Alana being an impostor. ‘What’s your name, anyway?’ she asked.


  ‘Alana,’ said Alana.

  ‘I’m Courtney,’ the girl replied. ‘Come with me. We’re going to see Fabio, the choreographer.’ And taking the bemused Alana by the elbow, she dragged her out the door, along a corridor, through the theatre wings and right out on to the stage, where a group of dancers were in mid-rehearsal.

  Alana stopped short, feeling incredibly self-conscious. Fabio was a tall, very good-looking young man with piercing blue eyes and an annoyed expression. He glanced up at them and raised his hand to stop the dancers. ‘What is it, Courtney?’ he demanded impatiently. ‘Who’s this? What’s she doing in my theatre?’

  Hearing how cross he sounded, Alana felt even more nervous. What have you got me into now, Madame Coco? she thought to herself.

  ‘This is Alana,’ croaked Courtney. ‘I think she may be able to understudy me tonight.’

  Fabio strode across the stage and up to Alana, staring at her with his intense eyes. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded. ‘What makes you think you can take part in my show?’

  ‘I d-d-don’t,’ Alana started to stammer, but then Courtney interrupted.

  ‘She goes to dance school. She looks my age. She has a costume that fits. Surely it’s worth a try?’

  ‘For this part, you must be able to sing as well as dance,’ said Fabio to Alana. ‘Do you sing?’

  ‘No, not really,’ Alana replied.

  Fabio turned back to Courtney. ‘So, this is verrrry helpful,’ he said sarcastically. ‘First you go and lose your voice on the day of the premiere. Then you bring me a girl, a complete stranger, who does not sing.’

  ‘She does dance, though,’ Courtney replied.

  ‘Let me see you dance,’ Fabio ordered. ‘Cue the music!’

  Only then did Alana notice that an entire band was there, in the orchestra pit. They struck up the chords of the final scene of Bright Lights on Broadway. Hesitantly, Alana began to dance. To her amazement, she found her feet knew the steps to the routine, even though she’d never done it before. She was so swept up in the music that she forgot to worry about Fabio viewing her closely, not to mention the entire chorus who were sitting on the edge of the stage, watching the whole scene with enormous interest.

  ‘Hmmm, not bad,’ said Fabio, grudgingly, as the music drew to a close. ‘Now let’s hear your voice.’

  Nervously, Alana sang a few bars of one of the songs. She knew the whole soundtrack off by heart, but her singing wasn’t that great.

  Fabio held up his hand to stop her. ‘We have work to do if we are to get you up to scratch by tonight,’ he declared.

  ‘So’s she’s got the part?’ asked Courtney, excitedly.

  ‘Yes, for one night, till your real understudy can get here,’ Fabio replied. ‘We have six hours until the curtain goes up. I want two hours of intensive voice coaching for her, then I will take her for a one-to-one rehearsal.’

  He turned round to face the other dancers. ‘Then I want everyone back here at four p.m. for another dress rehearsal. Cast dismissed!’

  Before Alana knew it, she was being ushered off by a blonde woman to a room behind the stage containing a piano. ‘I am Giselle, the voice coach,’ explained the woman.

  Giselle looked Alana up and down, frowning at the waistcoat and sparkly tights. She was still clutching the top hat and cane. ‘You do not need to be in costume you know,’ she said. ‘Run back to the dressing room and change into your normal clothes, then come straight back here.’

  Alana dashed off to the dressing room, panicking. She didn’t have any normal clothes! They were on the floor of Madame Coco’s dressing room, 3,000 miles away and over twenty years in the future! She couldn’t quite believe this was happening. No one had even asked her if she wanted to take part in the show.

  Courtney was in the dressing room, chatting with one of the other girls.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked Alana as she came flying in.

  ‘Giselle says I have to change out of my costume, but I don’t have any normal … er … I can’t find my normal clothes,’ Alana explained.

  ‘Oh, that’s OK,’ Courtney replied. ‘It’s easy to lose things in this tip of a dressing room! You can borrow these jeans and a T-shirt – they’re spares. I’ve got some trainers you can wear, too. You look about my size.’

  Impulsively, Alana hugged Courtney. ‘You’re a star!’ she said.

  ‘I wish,’ croaked Courtney, gloomily. ‘It’s you who are going to be the star tonight!’

  When Alana arrived back at the practice room, Giselle was sitting ready at the piano.

  ‘Now, sing a G major scale,’ she commanded. She played a single note, then looked at Alana expectantly.

  Alana stared back. ‘Erm, what is it you wanted me to do again?’ she asked Giselle.

  ‘A G major scale,’ repeated Giselle patiently. ‘Like this.’ And she played it on the piano.

  Alana did the best she could to copy what she’d heard.

  ‘Hmmmm. We’re going to have to work hard,’ said Giselle.

  There followed two hours of some of the most intense work Alana had ever done. She learned breathing exercises. She sang scale after scale. She practised voice projection and breathing from her diaphragm, as well as working on the lyrics so she understood the meaning of every word she had to sing. They sang until Alana felt she was about to lose her voice, just like Courtney! Luckily, it was one of Alana’s favourite musicals, so she already knew a lot of the lyrics off by heart.

  I bet I don’t know them as well as Keisha does, she thought.

  As soon as Alana’s voice coaching was over, she was taken back to the stage where Fabio was waiting for her. He made Alana dance every routine she was involved in, singing at the same time. He sat in the auditorium, staring at her, his piercing eyes unsmiling, only speaking when he had a criticism to make. Alana found him absolutely terrifying, although curiously charming at the same time.

  By the time the full dress rehearsal was due to start, Alana was starting to feel on top of things. Courtney came to stand in the wings to watch. She gave Alana an encouraging thumbs-up as she took her position with the rest of the chorus.

  As Alana sang and danced, it felt as if she was moving as one body with the others. Her heart leapt and she began to enjoy herself and to relax into the part.

  At last Fabio called a halt to the rehearsal. ‘One hour for dinner, everybody!’ he declared. ‘Then back to the theatre please.’

  Courtney smiled at Alana as she trooped off the stage with the others. ‘My mom’s taking me for a burger before the show,’ she croaked. ‘Wanna come?’

  ‘Oh, er, I don’t have any money,’ Alana replied, embarrassed.

  ‘Don’t worry – it’s on me. You’ve completely saved my life with Fabio today.’

  Courtney’s mother was waiting for her at the stage door. As soon as Courtney explained who Alana was, she greeted her with delight. ‘You come along with us,’ she said. ‘You’re gonna need some good feeding up before the show.’

  They walked down the road from the theatre, then turned the corner. All at once, Alana was overwhelmed by the glittering lights of Times Square, New York. Her guess had been right – she was on Broadway. She began to feel terrified all over again, but excited, too.

  ‘I’m about to perform in the premiere of one of the best-loved musicals there’s ever been, on Broadway, the world capital of musical theatre,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Broadway! This is just a dream come true. My mum would surely be proud if she could see me now.’

  ‘What was that?’ Courtney’s mother asked kindly.

  ‘Oh, er, nothing.’ Alana blushed.

  The three of them went into the nearest burger restaurant, and both girls chose a Triple Cheesy Wham Burger with large fries and a strawberry milkshake. Alana was absolutely starving after her afternoon’s work, and Courtney’s laryngitis didn’t seem to have affected her appetite either – or her conversation for that matter. She was incredibly talkative. Luckily she had so much to say that it di
dn’t occur to either her or her mum to ask Alana who she was, or where she’d come from.

  In her croaky voice, Courtney told Alana that she was twelve – a year older than me, Alana thought – and went to middle school. She loved roller-blading and trampolining, but since she’d got the part in this show she hadn’t had time to do either of them – and she’d barely been able to see her friends, either. She thought it was worth it though. A girl in her class had gone for the same part and hadn’t got it, so now she kept saying mean things about Courtney to her friends. But Courtney didn’t care because she knew the other girl was only jealous.

  Alana smiled and nodded and chewed. I’m not convinced she’s got laryngitis, she thought to herself. I think she’s just talked her voice into oblivion!

  The girls barely had time to finish off their meal with some jam doughnuts before it was time to head back to the theatre.

  As they walked through the crowds of shoppers and traffic fumes towards the theatre, Alana began to feel terrified all over again.

  The girls parted at the stage door. Courtney gave Alana a good-luck hug. ‘Thank you soooo much for doing this for me,’ she said. ‘I’ll be watching from the wings!’ Alana gave her a nervous smile.

  The next hour seemed to pass in a daze. Alana joined the other chorus girls in the dressing room. She put her gold outfit back on and one of the older girls showed her how to do her make-up. Then they all trooped on to the stage for some warm-up exercises. One of them peeped around the curtain. ‘The seats are starting to fill up,’ she reported. Alana’s heart seemed to do a somersault. She almost wished the show was starting right now, so she could get it over with.

  The time came soon enough. Alana waited in the wings as the orchestra began the overture. Then, smiling and looking at the audience as she’d been taught, she danced on to the stage in perfect time with the rest of the chorus, singing the opening number and trying hard to remember all the breathing and voice-projecting techniques she’d been taught.