As she let herself in, her mother seemed to be looking guilty, as though she were trying to hide something from Alana.
‘Whatever,’ thought Alana. ‘I’ve got enough things to think about without worrying about what Mum is up to.’ Alana did not want to tell anyone about the dress just yet.
She ran up to her room and hung the beautiful dress carefully in her wardrobe. There were so many layers of skirts that she had trouble shutting the door!
She was keen to get an early night before the show the next day, so she went upstairs straight after supper and got ready for bed. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt much more confident about the Spectacular than she would have imagined possible a few hours earlier. She felt sure she’d manage the steps now – and she had a fabulous dress!
The next day was Saturday – the day of the Latin Spectacular. As soon as she’d finished breakfast, Alana dashed round to Meena’s house to hang out and maybe try some last-minute practice. They didn’t have to be at the theatre until after lunch.
The girls went up to Meena’s room to chat. Meena put on TJS’s latest song, then they settled down to paint their nails for the show. Alana picked out a clear nail varnish that had tiny silver stars in it, and Meena decided on a cobalt blue that exactly matched her samba dress. As they brushed on the varnish, the smell of roasting chapattis wafted up the stairs. Alana couldn’t wait for lunch. Meena’s grandma did most of the cooking in her house, and meals were always pretty special.
‘I hope it’s going to go OK this afternoon,’ Meena sighed.
‘Me too,’ said Alana. ‘Even if I get my steps right, Toby might mess up. He could be a good dancer if he wanted to, but he doesn’t even try.’
‘I know,’ said Meena, ‘but it’s not really his fault, seeing as he doesn’t even want to go to dance classes. His mum should listen to what he wants to do, not what she wants him to do. Just cos she couldn’t be a dancer herself. It’s not fair.’
‘You like Toby, don’t you!’ said Alana teasingly.
‘He’s OK,’ said Meena, blushing. ‘But that’s not the point. I just think he has a hard time, that’s all.’
After lunch, it was time to set off to the theatre. Meena’s mum dropped them off at the stage door in the car. They made their way through the backstage area, carrying their dresses carefully over one arm.
When they got to the dressing room, they were impressed to see a printed sign saying ‘Students of Step Out Studio’ on the door. Inside, everything was a whirl, with far too many students crammed into too small a space, putting up their hair, doing their make-up and talking non-stop.
As Alana began to get ready, her mind floated back to Madame Coco’s Costume Emporium. Just who was Madame Coco, and where did her shop come from, and why did she want to help Alana? It was all such a mystery.
‘What are you dreaming about?’ asked Meena as she put on her stage make-up.
‘She’s probably dreaming she had a mother who could buy her a proper dress for the Spectacular,’ chipped in Verity, laughing unpleasantly. Verity, who had just arrived, was dressed from head to toe in designer clothes and was carrying a double skinny latte.
‘Actually,’ said Alana with her sweetest smile, ‘this is my dress, here.’ She unzipped the cover of Madame Coco’s costume.
Verity looked at the stunning dress. Layer upon layer of skirts floated out, each one studded with gold sequins. Hundreds of diamonds glittered on the bodice, dazzling in the bright dressing-room lights.
For a moment, Verity’s face was nearly as crimson as the dress, but then she got herself under control. ‘You don’t imagine anyone will think those diamonds are real, do you?’ she asked, with a mean laugh, and she glided off to practise her steps.
‘Just ignore her,’ whispered Meena. ‘Who cares if the diamonds aren’t real? The dress is absolutely beautiful.’
Alana could hardly tell her that, actually, they were real! ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s go and work on the dance.’
They walked on to the stage where lots of other dancers were busy practising, and Alana felt a flutter of nervousness as she looked out into the empty auditorium. Soon those seats would be filled with people expecting to be entertained. Would she be able to achieve this or would she struggle to remember her steps, just like she had done in rehearsal?
But as Alana and Meena began to work through the samba routine, Alana practically forgot where she was. The theatre seemed to fade away and she could almost smell the hot smells of the Carnival again, hear the beat of the drums and feel the excitement of the dance pulsing through her. It’s so weird, she thought. Rio must have been just a dream, but it’s the most real dream I’ve ever had.
She was brought sharply back to reality by a high-pitched scream from the dressing rooms. She recognised Chloe’s voice immediately.
‘Oh no, what do you think has happened to Chloe?’ asked Meena.
‘We’d better go and see,’ Alana replied, and they hurried towards the sound.
As the girls got closer, they could hear Verity’s voice in between Chloe’s shrieks. They heard the word ‘dress …’ and ‘all spoiled …’ and then, ‘Alana’. Alana’s stomach seemed to flip over, and she started to run.
When she entered the dressing room, the first thing she saw was her dress, hanging on its peg. Right down the front of it was an ugly coffee stain. The coffee was still drip-drip-dripping, making a puddle on the floor below it. Chloe, red-faced and crying, was dabbing at the dress with a towel. ‘Oh poor, poor Alana,’ she was wailing, ‘her lovely dress!’
Alana was so shocked she couldn’t even move. What on earth was Madame Coco going to say when she found out her beautiful dress was spoiled?
Verity was sitting nearby, her long legs crossed, her lips curled upwards in a pleased smirk. When she saw Alana, the smirk transformed into a grin. ‘I’m terribly sorry, Alana,’ she said in a fake voice, ‘but Chloe has spilled coffee all over your dress. It’s completely ruined, I’m afraid.’
‘I didn’t do it, honestly,’ sobbed Chloe.
‘It’s all right, Chloe,’ Alana said quietly, putting her arm round her. ‘If you say it wasn’t you, I believe you.’
In fact, Alana had a very strong idea who had actually ruined her costume. Verity was looking far too pleased with herself. Alana gently took the towel away from Chloe. ‘Don’t worry about trying to clean the dress – it won’t do any good.’ Slowly, Chloe’s sobs subsided.
Just then, the door opened and there was Miss Trina. She looked shocked as she took in the scene: the dress hanging ruined, Chloe looking wretched, Alana trying not to cry with Meena comforting her, and Verity sitting there, smugly. She grasped what must have happened in a moment. But there was no time to do anything about it. As everyone tried to talk at once, she held up a hand for silence.
‘I’ll sort this out later, girls,’ she said. ‘Alana, your mother is here and she needs to speak to you. She says it’s urgent. Off you go.’
What can it be now? thought Alana as she ran to the stage door. Could the day get any worse? First her dress was spoiled, and now her mum was here with some emergency or other. Surely she wasn’t going to expect her to look after Abi today of all days. Even without a dress, Alana couldn’t bear the thought of missing the show!
But when Alana saw her Mum, she looked excited, not worried and stressed. She was carrying a large plastic bag.
‘Hi, love,’ she said, giving Alana a kiss on the cheek. ‘You know, I felt awful about what I said to you yesterday, about giving up dancing. I know how much it means to you. And I felt guilty for forgetting to make your dress as well. So I stayed up all night, and I persuaded my boss to give me the day off work to finish it – and here it is.’ And she drew out of the plastic bag a gorgeous samba dress, made from the sea-green material that she and Alana had bought together the week before. It wasn’t perfect – you could tell it had been made in a hurry, because the stitches were rather large and there were some loose threads here and the
re. But she had bought some special green sequins to sew on to the skirts and it was obvious she’d made a real effort.
Alana loved it. ‘It’s fabulous, Mum! Thank you!’ she said, throwing her arms around her and giving her a huge hug. The dress may not have been as fancy as the one that Madame Coco had given her, but her mum had made it, and that meant it was much more precious to her.
‘And, seeing as I’ve managed to get the day off,’ said Mum, ‘Abi and I can come to the show. We can’t wait to see you dance the samba!’
Now I really will have to do a great job, thought Alana, as she dashed back to the dressing room to try on the new dress.
‘What’s that?’ asked Verity sharply, when she saw Alana walk in with the sea-green costume glittering over her arm.
‘Oh, just another dress,’ said Alana airily. ‘I’m quite glad the other one got spoiled, actually, because I think I look better in green.’
Verity’s face turned a pale shade of green to match.
As the audience started to file into the theatre, the Step Out Studio students kept peeping round the stage curtain to watch the audience arriving. In came Verity’s parents, her dad in a posh suit and her mum in a real fur coat; Toby’s mum, looking concerned, and fiddling with her programme; Meena’s mum and granny, trying to control her little brother and sister who were arguing about where to sit … and Chloe was there, too, sitting in the front row. She’d only just started at Step Out Studio so she hadn’t had time to learn the routine for the show. She was keen to watch, though, even if she couldn’t join in this time around.
Alana started to feel nervous – the seats were nearly all taken and the curtain was going up in five minutes. Where were Mum and Abi? Then she saw the two of them dashing through the door, her mum looking flustered, Abi looking excited. Alana breathed a big sigh.
Everyone else was waiting in the wings now because the show was about to start. Alana went to join them.
‘I hope you’re not going to let us all down, Alana,’ said Verity. ‘The way you were dancing at rehearsal, I shouldn’t think Miss Trina will want you at Step Out Studio after today.’
‘Just ignore her!’ said Meena, fiercely, squeezing Alana’s arm.
In fact, Alana had no trouble ignoring Verity, because she just felt in her bones that everything was going to go OK.
The band struck up, playing Alana’s favourite samba music with its quick syncopated beat. Immediately the theatre seemed to vibrate with a hot Carnival atmosphere.
‘Get ready for your cue, everyone!’ said Miss Trina.
As the students danced on to the stage in an explosion of rhythm and energy, there was a huge round of applause. Alana danced the steps perfectly, without even thinking about it, and Toby rose to the occasion, partnering her effortlessly. Then, towards the end of the dance when they were meant to repeat the first section, Alana found herself doing an amazing new routine. It was far more complicated than anything the students had been taught by Miss Trina, but Alana danced as if she’d been doing it all her life.
The audience started to cheer, and looking up, Alana caught her mum’s eye. In her face she could see the same look that she’d seen in Carlos’s papa’s – pride and joy at watching her child doing what she loved best.
When the dance was finished and the students had taken their bows, the audience started up a chant of ‘Alana! Alana!’ and she had to come back on stage and take an extra bow all by herself. When the curtain fell for the last time, the other students crowded round her to congratulate her.
‘Wow, that was unbelievable, Alana,’ said Meena. How did you learn to do that since Thursday?’
‘Oooh,’ said Chloe, who’d come backstage to join the others. ‘You were fabulous! I wish I could dance like you!’
Even Toby made a comment. ‘You were cool,’ he said, a bit grudgingly.
Then Miss Trina came up to her. She’d been busy chatting to the students’ families. ‘Wow, Alana – you blew me away today!’ she said. ‘You really turned things around since rehearsal. You must have been practising hard!’ Alana smiled, but she didn’t say anything.
Only Verity didn’t look pleased.
Alana spotted her backstage with her parents. Her lips were pinched and her eyes glinted with malice. ‘Did you see that girl Alana showing off?’ she was saying to her mother, not bothering to lower her voice. ‘It was so embarrassing.’
‘Yes, princess. It was extremely vulgar. I don’t know what Miss Trina is thinking letting a girl like that dance at Step Out Studio.’
‘And what about her dress?’ continued Verity. ‘The stitches were so big I expect you could see them from where you were sitting!’
Alana walked away before she had to listen any more. She didn’t much care anyway. Somehow, Verity didn’t seem to be making herself feel any better by being nasty about her – the more she talked, the more furious she looked!
When they got home, Alana’s mum cooked up her favourite meal: pizza with mushrooms and extra cheese, and garlic bread.
‘Yum yum!’ said Abi, as they ate pots of chocolate mousse for pudding. ‘Alana, can you be in a dance show every day?’
‘Please no!’ said mum holding her head in her hands. ‘I couldn’t stand the stress!’
After supper, Alana was in such a good mood that she didn’t even mind that her mum had to spend the evening studying, leaving her to take care of her sister.
Alana got Abi in the bath and made her brush her teeth. Abi couldn’t stop talking about the show. ‘You were so great!’ she said, bouncing up and down instead of getting into her pyjamas. ‘I can’t wait to tell all my friends at school about it!’
When Alana had managed to get Abi tucked up in bed at last, she went into her own room and closed the door, glad to be alone.
She lay down on her bed, her thoughts in a whirl as she went over everything that had happened since yesterday. Even if Rio had just been a dream, what a dream it was! And she had found a new friend in Madame Coco and discovered her extraordinary shop. And her mum had realised how important dancing was to her – for now at least. And she’d performed brilliantly in the show!
Alana got up to put away the two samba costumes – the one her mum had made her and the one Madame Coco had lent her. But as she was hanging up Madame Coco’s dress, she looked at in amazement. ‘How bizarre,’ she thought. ‘The coffee stain has gone!’ It didn’t make any sense. She hadn’t even had a chance even to try to get it off.
Alana sighed with relief. Now, when she returned the dress to Madame Coco, she wouldn’t have to explain why it was covered in coffee.
Just as she was closing the wardrobe door again, something green and yellow caught her eye, sticking up from the hem of the dress. She drew it out gently and saw that it was a small Brazilian flag, beautifully embroidered.
‘Wait a minute!’ she thought. ‘I remember seeing this patch on Carlos’s banner! And I remember feeling him slipping something into the hem of my dress before I left him! So it was all real – it must have been! The Carnival, the beach, the sunshine; Carlos’s family, the parade … it actually happened!’
Suddenly, she knew why Madame Coco had given her the purple and gold album. Opening it carefully, she stuck the little flag on to the first page. Then getting out her best gold and silver gel pens, she made a swirly pattern all around it.
As she lay in bed that night, she stared at the album on her shelf. ‘There are lots of pages in it,’ she thought to herself. ‘Does that mean Madame Coco thinks I’m going to have lots of adventures, so I can fill the pages with more souvenirs?’
Alana slept deeply that night, dreaming about what costume she would try on next time she went to Madame Coco’s Costume Emporium.
About the Author
Arlene Phillips OBE is a world-renowned director and choreographer creating musicals, videos, films, television programming and spectaculars. Her inventive choreography has been seen in the musicals Grease, We Will Rock You, Starlight Express, The Sound of
Music, Flashdance and The Wizard of Oz. Her screen work includes the films Annie and Legend, and the television shows DanceX and Britannia High. Arlene’s videos have starred everyone from Robbie Williams to Elton John, Whitney Houston to Tina Turner. Her largest ever spectacular was the XVII Commonwealth Games. She is known throughout the UK as a former judge on Strictly Come Dancing and now on So You Think You Can Dance? Her favourite job, however, has been as mother to her two daughters, Alana and Abi.
Copyright
First published in 2010
by Faber and Faber Ltd
Bloomsbury House
74–77 Great Russell Street
London WC1B 3DA
This ebook edition first published in 2010
All rights reserved
Text and illustrations © Arlene Phillips, 2010
Illustrations by Pixie Potts, 2010
The right of Arlene Phillips to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly
ISBN 978–0–571–25990–8
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