Bella sat on the edge of the jetty, with her plate beside her. She was eating half her toastie and throwing small pieces of crust in the water.
Suddenly Summer started to bark, lunging forward until her lead was strained taut. We all turned to look.
‘I wonder what Summer’s barking at?’ asked Mimi.
Mum shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe the seagulls. She’s never really seen those before.’
Bella turned around to see what Summer was doing, then glanced down at her plate. ‘Hey? Where’s the rest of my toastie?’
Bella’s plate was empty except for a few shreds of basil and some crumbs.
‘You must have eaten it without noticing,’ said Mum, soothingly.
‘No, I didn’t,’ said Bella, looking extremely put out. ‘I ate the first half, then I fed my crust to the fish. Then when I went to eat my second half, it was gone. Did you make it disappear, Harry?’
‘How could I have?’ asked Harry. ‘I was sitting over here eating my own toastie!’
‘Maybe you were extra hungry, so you made it disappear by magic,’ said Bella. ‘You know, like you do with the ball and my coins and Mum’s phone.’
‘What coins?’ asked Papa, trying not to laugh.
‘Harry made my pocket money disappear in his magic box,’ said Bella. ‘And Mum’s phone.’
‘I brought them back,’ said Harry in an injured tone. ‘You know I did. But I definitely didn’t eat your toastie.’
‘Maybe you accidentally fed the whole sandwich to the fish?’ suggested Mum, trying to restore the peace. ‘Why don’t I make you another one?’
I took another bite of my watermelon slice.
‘I didn’t feed it to the fish,’ said Bella. ‘But I bet it was Harry who stole it.’
‘Harry didn’t come anywhere near you, Bella,’ I said. ‘He couldn’t possibly make it magically disappear from the other side of the table.’
‘I think it’s time to get back to the painting,’ suggested Mum. The kids all sighed and huffed and complained but there was nothing for it but to get back to work.
Later in the afternoon, Cici, Charlie and Meg dropped by.
‘We’ve come along to see if we can help,’ said Charlie.
‘That is, if we’re not banned from painting after yesterday,’ said Meg, looking sheepishly at Mum.
Mum laughed. ‘It’s very brave of you to come back and help after the drama of the great paint disaster! But I think you’ll do a wonderful job of it today.’
The four of us carried some equipment up into the tower room so we could finish painting. Papa lugged up a stepladder so we could reach the ceiling and top of the walls.
Mum popped up to give us a few tips. She reminded us how to use masking tape to give a straight line on the edges and how to spread a drop sheet to protect the floor. Before heading back downstairs she added, ‘And try not to step in the paint tray, Pipkin!’
Then the four of us set to work painting the first coat on the ceiling. I knew now that we should have started with the ceiling and worked down. The four of us chatted while we worked. Charlie even made us practise singing our song while we painted. Personally, I found it hard enough to either paint or sing, without trying to do them both together.
By the time we’d put the first coat on the wall, the ceiling was dry so we could paint that again. At last we were finished. Then we cleaned all the windows until they sparkled. The four of us stood back and looked around with great pride. To be honest, our paint job was far from perfect, but it was a huge improvement.
‘You were right, Cici,’ I said. ‘It looks amazing.’
‘The room somehow looks much bigger now that it’s all snowy-white and fresh,’ said Charlie.
‘Now we can start on the floor,’ said Meg, looking down at the dried puddles of white paint on the floorboards. ‘If we paint it, you won’t see the spills.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Cici, with a twinkle in her dark eyes. ‘Polka dots are very fashionable this season!’
We all giggled, feeling delighted with our achievement.
We grabbed our paintbrushes and started on the floor, working back towards the hole with the ladder down to my room below. I couldn’t wait until we could furnish it. I started daydreaming about colourful cushions and shelves.
I had come up with the rather ingenious idea to design some really cool bookshelves that would curve around the round wall of the tower. I could make them myself, using the timber fruit crates from downstairs. I would position them side by side and stack them two or three high, then tie them firmly together with ribbon or string. I couldn’t wait to see if it actually worked!
On Monday at school, everyone was talking about the talent quest. Groups of kids huddled in corners, discussing costumes and props. Everyone seemed to arrive super-early to prepare before class.
Charlie, Meg, Cici and I had arranged to meet in the art room so we could practise. I was on my way to meet them when I walked past the hall. The gym girls were inside wearing their school uniforms and flipping around the stage, cartwheeling in a perfect circle. They all wore gym shorts under their school dresses.
Olivia jumped to her feet. ‘It’s not perfect yet,’ she said. ‘We need to do it again.’
Sienna pulled an I-can’t-believe-it face at Jemila, but the girls obediently took their places to start again.
Olivia glanced over and saw me peeking through the door. She scowled at me for spying and I scurried off.
The other three were already waiting for me in the art room. I dashed in, leaving the door open behind me. This was one of my favourite rooms at school. The room was filled with paint-splattered tables, stools and easels. A collection of clay figures was displayed on a side table. Colourful paintings were hung all over the walls and the shelves were stacked with beautiful art books. Charlie and Cici were perched on a table, strumming their guitars.
‘Pippa’s here,’ said Meg, waving at me.
‘Great,’ said Cici. ‘Let’s get started.’
As usual Charlie counted us in, then Charlie and Cici started to play. We all began to sing the lyrics. Meg and I knew all the words to the song now, so we sang loud and strong, with no one to hear us. It was our best run-through yet.
We were so involved that we didn’t even notice our teacher, Mrs Marshall, sneak into the room. She stood just inside the door listening to us. When we finished the song, she clapped.
‘Well done, girls,’ she said. ‘That’s sounding fabulous. It’s great to see you practising so hard.’
I felt a thrill of pleasure at her praise. She was right. It had sounded fabulous.
‘We’ve been rehearsing all weekend,’ Cici said.
‘It shows,’ said Mrs Marshall. ‘I can’t wait to see you performing it at the audition. Have you worked out your costumes yet?’
‘Not yet,’ said Charlie. ‘That’s our plan for today.’
Mrs Marshall’s mention of the audition reminded me all over again that tomorrow, we wouldn’t be singing this song for fun by ourselves but performing it in front of the whole school. I felt my tummy clench with nerves.
‘Good luck with it,’ said Mrs Marshall. ‘See you in class.’
Mrs Marshall left, leaving us to keep working. Charlie jiggled up and down, hugging her guitar. ‘Mrs Marshall really liked our song. And she’s one of the judges!’
Charlie’s excitement made my spirits flag.
‘But she’s right,’ said Cici. ‘We really do need to decide on our costumes.’
‘Maybe we could dress up as animals?’ suggested Meg. ‘Like cats?’
‘No,’ said Charlie, shaking her head. ‘I think one of the kindy groups has thought of that already.’
‘What about a different kind of animal,’ suggested Meg. ‘Like –’
Meg’s favourite animals were dolphins, rhinos and elephants. I imagined standing in front of the whole school dressed up as one of those. The thought made me feel positively ill. Everyone would laugh at u
s.
‘Why can’t we just wear our own clothes?’ I asked, interrupting her. ‘That would be so much easier.’ And we wouldn’t look ridiculous, I thought to myself.
‘It’s a bit boring though,’ said Charlie. ‘Half the fun is getting dressed up in something you wouldn’t normally wear.’
‘A costume would make our act stand out more,’ said Cici. ‘Especially if it’s a little outrageous.’
I could feel a headache coming on. Cici loved wearing quirky and eye-catching fashion. Personally, I preferred to wear clothes that didn’t stand out.
Meg smiled at me sympathetically. Meg preferred wearing clothes that were comfortable and practical too.
‘Perhaps Pippa would feel happier about performing if we wore normal clothes,’ suggested Meg. ‘Beachy sundresses would suit the song.’
‘How about we compromise?’ said Charlie. ‘We’ll wear sundresses to the auditions but if we make it to the concert, we’ll come up with something more exciting.’
Cici opened her mouth to object.
‘Great idea,’ I said quickly, before she could say anything. ‘Let’s do that.’
Just then the morning bell rang and it was time to start the school day. We went out to join dozens of kids as they emerged from across the playground. We all sat in our class lines, chatting and laughing.
Alex, Rory, Joey and Sam were sitting next to us, whispering madly. I heard words like popping, breaking and locking, which sounded rather violent until I realised they were talking about dance moves. It sounded like the boys were planning on auditioning as well. It seemed half the school would be up on stage on Tuesday.
Alex turned to me with a smile. ‘Are you trying out for the talent quest, Pippa?’ he asked. ‘Are you going to show us some of your awesome London dance moves?’
I blushed as red as Papa’s homegrown tomatoes. All I could think about, of course, was the time I smashed Alex in the nose during dance class. It was not one of my favourite memories and I’d really hoped that Alex had forgotten all about it.
‘No,’ I mumbled. ‘Well, yes we are – but not dancing.’
‘What are you doing then?’ asked Alex.
Cici leaned over and saved me.
‘You’ll have to wait and see, Alex,’ she said, raising her eyebrows. ‘We don’t want to spoil the surprise.’
Our day at school was the usual Monday routine of English, maths, reading and art class. The only difference was that at recess and lunch, all anyone seemed to talk about was the audition tomorrow. After school, Charlie and Cici had their regular guitar lessons. I walked to the cafe with Bella and Harry to wait until Mum finished work.
We didn’t have any homework, so I took the opportunity to experiment with the fruit crates to see if my bookshelf idea would actually work. There were eight timber crates which I lugged one by one all the way upstairs to my room, then up the ladder. Getting them up the ladder was pretty tricky.
I lay four crates on their side against the round wall to form the bottom layer of my bookshelf. Then I tied them together with brown string to hold them in place. Finally I stacked another three crates on top to form the second layer, which fitted perfectly just under the windows. The last crate was the biggest, so I decided to turn it upside down to make a side table.
There! I’d done it. The tower now had a set of sturdy shelves and a table. My next job was to carefully paint them. I asked Mum if I could use a sample pot of sea-foam-green paint I found in the painting pile. When the crates were painted they looked even better against the white walls.
Next I’d bring some books from the caravan and some pens and pencils. I wondered if Mimi might have an old rug or some cushions we could use to make it cosy. Most of our furniture and knick-knacks were being stored in boxes until the apartment was ready.
Making the shelves was good because it distracted me. But once I’d finished, thoughts of tomorrow’s audition crowded in.
Back at the caravan, I packed my bag with my favourite sundress and my sandals. Then I changed my mind and tried another couple of outfits. Nothing seemed right. At last I settled on the first dress again.
All evening there was a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach, as if I’d accidentally swallowed rocks. I picked at my dinner. For once, bedtime seemed to take forever, and then I couldn’t get to sleep for ages. All night, I tossed and turned, having delirious dreams with everyone staring at me frozen on the stage. Would this night ever end?
Tuesday morning finally came and I woke up when the alarm went off. I was in the deepest sleep. For a moment I’d forgotten what day it was and then it hit me. Audition day! I felt the familiar heavy lump of dread in my stomach. I burrowed back under the covers and hid my head. Perhaps I could get Mimi to ring the school to say I was too sick to come.
But then I thought about how excited Charlie and Cici were. I couldn’t let them down. I slowly climbed out of bed and grabbed a clean towel.
Harry was already up, standing in his pyjamas at the kitchen table, practising one of his magic tricks.
‘Hey, Pippa, watch this,’ he said, reaching towards my left ear. He plucked something from my hair. It was a sparkling silver ball with rainbow flashing lights inside it. He tossed the ball up into the air and caught it. Then tossed it and caught it again. But on the third toss he snapped his fingers and it disappeared into thin air.
‘Good trick, Harry,’ I said, very impressed.
‘Thanks,’ said Harry. ‘It’s my new magic ball that Dad sent me. I’ve been working on it.’
I felt that hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach again. Thinking of Dad always made me feel strange. I pushed the thought firmly away. I had enough to worry about today without thinking of my dad in Switzerland.
I had a shower, ate a couple of mouthfuls of breakfast, then dropped my spoon in my bowl. I really couldn’t face eating anything. Mimi stroked my forehead.
‘Too nervous to eat, darling?’ she said. ‘You’ll be okay.’
As usual, Mimi and Papa walked us to school.
Bella decided that she wanted to wear her dinosaur costume, even though it was already steaming hot. She carried her tail in one hand so it didn’t drag in the dirt. Harry’s backpack looked unusually full today. I carried my tote bag with my audition outfit and walked along, leading Summer.
At school there was a definite buzz of excitement in the air. The audition was after lunch. Mrs Marshall tried to keep us working in the morning with our usual maths and English, but everyone was too distracted to focus on lessons. I’d been helping Charlie with her maths, but I had no hope of showing her anything useful today. She was jiggling up and down like corn popping in a hot pan.
When the bell rang at lunchtime we all rushed outside. We were supposed to eat our lunch and then get ready. I was too nervous to eat anything at all.
Kids bustled around carrying musical instruments or wearing their costumes. A group of kindy kids ran past, dressed up as kittens. Olivia, Willow, Sienna, Jemila and Tash were wearing their purple-and-black gym leotards, with their hair brushed into perfect high ponytails. They were warming up outside the hall, doing stretches and knee bends.
Alex, Rory, Sam, Leon, Marcus and Joey were all dressed up with baggy black trousers, white shirts, black vests, white sneakers and back-to-front caps on their heads. They had added oversized, glitzy bling and had bandanas tied around their wrists. They looked nothing like their usual selves.
‘Hey,’ said Rory, as we walked past. ‘What’s up, girls?’
He did a little dance with exaggerated hand gestures which made us giggle. The other boys began swaggering and showing off too.
‘Hey. Back at you, bro,’ said Cici, pretending to be ultra-cool. She’s really good at doing funny voices to make us all laugh.
Alex gave us all a quick high five, one after the other.
‘Good luck, boys,’ said Charlie. ‘You look great.’
The four of us went to change out of our uniforms and into our sundresses. When I s
aw some of the other costumes, I realised most of the kids had gone to a lot of trouble. I suddenly wished that we’d gone with Cici’s idea of evening dresses or tutus.
The auditions were being held in the hall. A black velvet curtain had been hung across the back of the stage. Two of the teachers were pinning up a cardboard sign that read ‘Kira Cove School Talent Quest’.
A trestle table had been set up for the three judges. There was our year five teacher, Mrs Marshall, and Mr Tzantzaris, the year six teacher. Sitting in the middle was our sometimes crotchety neighbour Mrs Beecham. She was dressed in her best navy suit, with a ruffled white shirt, and was gazing around the room rather critically.
Mrs Beecham had very strong ideas on what she liked and disliked. I knew she hated noisy kids, loud builders, pop music and ‘clod-hopping’, which was what she called my early attempts at dancing. While Mrs Beecham and I were good friends now, we hadn’t started out that way. When the girls and I first met her she had criticised us for being sassy, which in a funny kind of way had inspired the name of our club, the Sassy Sisters.
I wondered what she’d think of our performance. I suddenly felt extra-nervous. Mrs Beecham was a retired prima ballerina, who had danced in all the major opera houses of the world. I suddenly wished we’d practised a lot more.
I waved to Mrs B, and she waved back regally. Cici was checking the photocopied program.
‘Yes! We’re going last,’ whispered Cici. ‘That means we’ll be the most memorable.’
Mrs Marshall stood up, holding the microphone. Everyone fell silent.
‘Welcome students and teachers to the audition for the Kira Cove School Talent Quest,’ she said. Everyone clapped.
‘Today is about giving everyone the chance to participate and have fun performing their very own special talents.’
A murmur of excited whispering rippled around the hall.
‘We have a special guest here today as one of our judges,’ said Mrs Marshall. ‘Her name is Mrs Natalya Ivanova Beecham and she was one of the finest ballerinas of her generation. Can you all give Mrs Beecham a huge round of applause.’
Kira Dreaming Page 4