Annabel's Starring Role

by Holly Webb

  “Very nice, Amy!” Ms Loftus sounded really pleased at the end of the scene, and Amy smiled at her sweetly.

  The smile changed to a grimace as she came offstage and headed straight for Annabel. “You see? That’s proper acting, Annabel. Ms Loftus is going to be really sorry she picked you for Cinderella. Just try not to ruin the whole thing, OK?” She flounced off before Annabel could think of anything suitably nasty to say back.

  “Just ignore her,” said Saima. “You’ll be brilliant, she’ll see,” she added loyally. Annabel tried to smile – she had been feeling really confident, but Amy had a way of getting to people. It was such a huge part – could she really do it? There was no more time to worry about it, though, her first scene was now. She went up onstage, and tried very hard to concentrate on Saima and Ms Loftus beaming at her, and not see Amy’s carefully pitying expression.

  Cinderella was meant to be sweeping the kitchen on her own – there wasn’t even anyone to keep her company onstage! Annabel gulped, and started off nervously – remember to project her voice, not stare at the ground, put feeling into the words – there was so much to think about! And she had to cope with Ms Loftus calling directions for “blocking”, where she wanted Annabel to move. But by the time two Year Nine boys came on as the Ugly Sisters to bully her, Annabel was starting to get into it. Joe and Pete were really fun, and they were overacting massively, so Annabel played up to them – it was so much easier when there was someone else to act with!

  “What did you think?” she asked Saima anxiously as soon as she came back into the main hall. “Was I OK? Tell me!”

  “Definitely,” said Saima firmly. “You were fab. A lot better than Her Majesty over there, so don’t let her get to you, all right?”

  The rest of the rehearsal went really well, Annabel thought. Ms Loftus did look a bit panicked in some places, but she was still just about smiling by the time she called a halt. Annabel was feeling so upbeat by then that she went a bit overboard when Ms Loftus reminded them about volunteers for backstage crew and set and costumes.

  Saima watched in surprise as Annabel merrily added her entire family to the various lists – Katie to work backstage, Becky to paint the set, her mum to make costumes. Miss Davies looked over Annabel’s shoulder as she scrawled Mrs Ryan’s name on her list.

  “Oh good. Is your mum good at sewing, Annabel? I was hoping someone would volunteer to make your ballgown – I’ve got an awful lot of costumes to make, and the dress pattern I’ve got isn’t difficult, but it’s going to take a bit of time, it’s quite fancy.”

  Quite fancy? Annabel shivered delightedly. She wanted it as fancy as possible. “I’m sure she could make it, Miss Davies. She likes sewing.”

  Miss Davies lost no time in loading Annabel down with the pattern and the fabric – gorgeous silvery-lilac stuff, with sparkly bits, which had Annabel looking like a Cheshire cat, and Saima just the teensiest bit jealous.

  Miss Davies caught the look, though, and grinned at her. “Don’t worry, Saima, you’ve got something along the same lines but in gold – you’ll look lovely.”

  Saima and Annabel walked home in a blissful silence, imagining their beautiful dresses. Shortly before they got to the Ryans’ house, Saima woke up enough to say, “I didn’t know your mum liked sewing.”

  “Oh, she does.” Annabel nodded happily. This was perfectly true, but when Annabel got home and broke the news of her mother’s new role, Mrs Ryan looked horrified.

  “Oh, Annabel, why?” she wailed. “I’ve got loads of work on at the moment, you really should have asked me first.”

  Annabel looked hurt. “But you like sewing. I thought you’d want to make my ballgown.”

  Mrs Ryan looked at Annabel’s hurt face, all huge blue eyes, and backtracked. “Sweetheart, I do want to, it’s just that this looks like a really complicated dress to make. I don’t want to spoil it for you.” She sighed, took a big gulp of coffee, and looked back down at the pattern instructions. “Well, I can try, I suppose. These things always look worse than they really are. But honestly, what on earth’s that bit?” She stabbed a finger worriedly at a small piece that looked as though it really couldn’t fit anywhere on a dress.

  Katie and Becky, who’d been watching, peered over at the pattern.

  “Twenty-six – waistband reinforcement panel. It’s for when Annabel gets fat,” giggled Katie.

  Annabel looked speculatively at her. “You’re helping too, you know.”

  “What? I’m not making dresses, Bel, you know I’m no good at sewing.”

  “I put you down for helping backstage. I thought you’d like that. Lights and stuff – you know.” Annabel waved a hand airily.

  “Oh, great! And what’s Becky? Your personal slave?”

  Annabel smiled at Becky. “I said you’d help paint scenery. That’s OK, isn’t it? You like art, and you like Mrs Cranmer – she’s organizing it.”

  Becky looked pleased – unlike Katie, she wasn’t bothered by Annabel arranging stuff for her, as long as it was something she’d like! “Cool. Do you think I could ask David if he wants to help too?”

  Annabel rolled her eyes. “Course you can, silly. More the better, I should think. You can go and paint together – awww!”

  Becky just grinned good-naturedly. She was getting used to Annabel’s teasing, and she knew it was partly because her sister was a weeny bit jealous.

  “Really, Annabel,” Mrs Ryan was trying hard to sound cross in the face of Annabel’s enthusiasm. “You should have asked everybody before you did all this. I know you’re excited about the play, but you can’t just assume that everybody else will be too.”

  Annabel looked innocent. “But you are, aren’t you?” she asked, gazing hopefully round at her mother and sisters. “And you will do it?”

  “Yes,” chorused her family, in long-suffering tones.

  Annabel beamed. Perhaps this was not the moment to admit that she’d volunteered Fran and Megan as well…

  Chapter Five

  “Great news,” said Mrs Ryan at breakfast the next morning. “I spoke to your Auntie Janet last night after you’d gone to bed and told her all about the ballgown and the play. She’s agreed to help me put it together, Bel, and suggested we bring the pattern and everything with us when we all go up to London.”

  Annabel promptly spilt milk down her sweatshirt. “Auntie Jan’s going to help? Oh, Mum, that’s fantastic.”

  “Hey, watch it!” The milk was still dripping, and Katie was trying to keep her sleeves out of the way. “Bel! Wake up and look what you’re doing, will you?”

  Becky dived for a cloth to wipe up Annabel, and Mrs Ryan just stared resignedly at the state of the breakfast table. Annabel ignored the carnage around her entirely, and concentrated on the important issues. “Auntie Jan’s so good with clothes and stuff – my dress’ll be perfect!”

  Her mother made a face. “Well, thank you too, Annabel. I’m not that bad!”

  Annabel wasn’t listening. She’d been excited enough about the trip before, but the thought of having super-fashionable Auntie Jan make her dress had pushed her into bliss. “I can’t believe we’re going to London tomorrow! Actually” – she was suddenly serious – “I need to plan what clothes to take.” And she was dead silent from then on, gazing into space as she worked out her wardrobe. She only woke up halfway to school, when she’d covered every possible combination, and then she started dancing along the pavement.

  Katie looked at her irritably. “Bel, will you please try to get your head in gear for school? Remember what happened on Monday? I know it’s turned out OK in the end, but I’m not going through that again. Just calm down.”

  Annabel gave her sister a shocked look. This was truly grumpy behaviour from Katie, and it was difficult for Annabel to process someone being grumpy when she felt so bouncy herself.

  “What’s the matter?” she aske
d curiously, walking backwards to stare into her sister’s face. “Why are you all cross? Aren’t you excited about tomorrow?”

  “I’m not cross,” Katie muttered crossly.

  “You are.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “If I say I’m not cross, I’m not cross, OK?” Katie snapped.

  “Fine, then. I was only trying to be nice.” Annabel stomped off ahead.

  Becky decided it was definitely time to intervene. “Don’t you want to go to London, Katie? It’s going to be fun.”

  “Huh.”

  “It will! What’s the matter?”

  Katie huffed crossly. “It was bad enough when it was a whole weekend of shopping, but now we’ve got to sit around while Mum and Auntie Jan make dresses for Annabel. I’d rather stay at home.”

  Becky gave her a troubled look. “It won’t be like that! It’s nearly Christmas, we’re going to do loads of present-shopping. Don’t you want to get something nice for Megan?” she wheedled.

  “Course I do!” Katie snapped back. “But it’s all going to be clothes shops and stupid girly stuff – really boring.”

  “Speak for yourself,” muttered Annabel, who’d let them catch up again. She was feeling grumpy herself after her spat with Katie, but she couldn’t stay down for long with the prospect of a day’s shopping. Everywhere would be all Christmassy, with loads of party outfits in the shops, and decorations all over the place. If there was anything better than just plain shopping, it was shopping at Christmas. She looked sympathetically at Katie. How awful to be depressed by shopping! Suddenly she remembered that Katie had sorted out her audition-disaster for her, and felt guilty. She gave her sister a hug. “It won’t all be clothes, honestly. We’ll go to places you like too. And I’ll be good today, I promise. Perfect little angel until home time, and then I’ll go crazy. OK?”

  Annabel managed to keep her word – just. When she felt the excitement bubbling up (a particular problem in geography – it was a mystery at Manor Hill how Mrs Travers managed to be quite so amazingly boring) she looked very firmly at Katie, and thought about her being sweet enough to do a detention for her. As soon as she got outside the school gates, though, she gave in completely. She shoved her bag into Becky’s arms, dashed down the road far enough to find a clear spot, and actually turned a cartwheel to work off some of the accumulated craziness. She was giggly and silly all the rest of the way, and when they got home she dashed upstairs immediately.

  The triplets’ mum, who’d seen her go past only as a streak of blonde hair, looked worried. “What’s the matter with Annabel?”

  “Nothing,” explained Becky, grinning. “She’s just desperate to get changed out of school clothes and get the weekend started.”

  She was interrupted by Annabel, hanging over the banisters. “Come on! You have to change too, I don’t even want to see school uniform. I wish we lived in America.”

  She disappeared again, leaving her mother looking confused. “What’s America got to do with anything?”

  Katie smiled understandingly. “They don’t wear school uniform over there. We’ll be down soon.”

  Annabel’s giggliness could be very infectious – if you weren’t in a bad mood to start with – and she’d tried so hard to be sensible all day that Katie had forgiven her entirely and started to get excited about the weekend too. After all, it would be fun to see Auntie Jan, and Becky was right, she did need to get Christmas presents. The three girls spent teatime giggling so much that Becky got hiccups from trying to laugh through her shepherd’s pie. It took them longer than usual to eat, but as soon as they had choked down enough, Annabel dragged the other two upstairs. “Come on! I’ve got really important stuff to talk about!”

  Becky sat down on her bed, clutching Orlando, and cooing sweet nothings in his ear. “What is it, Bel?”

  “Christmas-present shopping!” Annabel announced importantly.

  “We know!” Katie looked unimpressed.

  “What I mean is, we ought to make a plan. There’s no point going shopping with no idea what you want to buy. I mean, a bit of impulse buying is good, definitely, but we ought to know what we think people want for Christmas, or we’ll end up with three things for Saima, say, and nothing for Megan.”

  Katie nodded – for once Annabel was right. How did she manage to be sensible and organized only when it came to shopping?

  Annabel rounded on Becky. “And you’ve got a massive problem,” she declared, waving a finger in her sister’s face in a doom-laden way.

  Becky shrank back – not actually because she was worried by Bel, she was too used to her being overdramatic for that, but because she could tell that Orlando was objecting to fingers being waved in front of his jaws, and was preparing to have a piece out of her sister. “What?” she enquired curiously.

  “What are you going to buy David for Christmas?” Annabel folded her arms and looked down at Becky smugly.

  “Oh. I hadn’t thought. I don’t know, really.” A worried expression appeared on Becky’s face. What on earth was she going to get him?

  “You see? We need to make a list of everyone we want to get presents for, and start thinking before tomorrow.” Annabel smiled sweetly. “You two need to start thinking what to give me, as well. I could show you some stuff in magazines if you like.” She started over to the teetering pile of magazines by her bed, but Katie grabbed her and bundled her over to the big table.

  “No, thank you. We want you concentrating for now. You can drop hints later, when we’ve got everyone else sorted.” Katie was in organizing mode now, and she grabbed paper and pens for list-making. “Let’s start off with making a list of everybody we need to get presents for.”

  “Well, each other, obviously,” Becky suggested. “But you want to leave that till last, don’t you.”

  Katie grinned. “Oh, I don’t mind discussing you, I just want Bel’s mind clear, that’s all. Got any ideas what you want?”

  Annabel gasped indignantly, and would have protested, but Katie put her hand over her mouth. “Shut up, Bel, or I’ll tickle you.” She waved her fingers threateningly close to Annabel’s neck. Annabel was so ticklish that if she was in the right mood even this could send her into hysterics. She struggled feebly, and made pleading eyes at Katie.

  Katie released her. Annabel sighed resignedly and she started making the list. “OK. Saima. Megan and Fran, yes? David—” with a teasing look at Becky.

  Becky refused to rise. “Mum, Dad, Auntie Jan, Grandma and Grandpa, Nan.”

  Katie came round to look over Annabel’s shoulder. “What on earth are we going to get Mum?”

  “Haven’t a clue. But we should probably get Auntie Janet something wedding-y, do you think?” Becky suggested. “You can get lots of books on how to organize weddings, I’ve seen them.” Auntie Janet was getting married to her fiancé, Mark, in the spring, and she was full of wedding plans already.

  Katie pointed at their grandparents’ names. “Mum’ll probably have good ideas about what to get. But her present’s really difficult.”

  “Mmm. It would be nice to get her a surprise that she actually did really like.” Becky frowned. “She’s not easy to get presents for.”

  Annabel nibbled her pen. A tiny scrap of an idea was gathering. She nibbled harder. They were going shopping with Auntie Jan… Auntie Jan who was very, very similar-looking to Mum – different hair, but their figures and faces were almost as identical as the triplets’ were. Mum was always complaining that she had nothing nice to wear, but she didn’t really enjoy clothes shopping all that much (which Annabel found very hard to understand). Mum said she always ended up trying on things that looked lovely on the hanger but horrible on her. So… The idea was slipping round the edges of her brain…

  “I’ve got it! We get rid of Mum somehow” – Annabel was still sketchy on the details –
“and then we borrow Auntie Jan!”

  Katie and Becky looked at her sceptically.

  “What?” said Katie witheringly.

  Annabel sighed. They were so slow sometimes. “We go to a clothes shop,” she said, her tone indicating that they were idiots and she was talking in words of one syllable on purpose, “and we get Auntie Jan to try on clothes so we can see what would look good on Mum!” She sat back looking pleased with herself.

  “Bel, that’s a brilliant idea,” breathed Becky delightedly. “We should be able to get her something perfect.”

  Katie grinned. “I’ve changed my mind – pass those magazines, Becky. OK, Bel, here’s your reward. What do you want for Christmas?”

  Chapter Six

  “Ummm.” Annabel fiddled with her hairclips. “‘It’s not fair, the invitation was addressed to me as well’?”

  “Nope, that’s in about three lines’ time. It’s ‘I really wish I could go to the ball’.” Katie looked round the script at Annabel. “You’re getting better though. You know what the lines are – now it’s just a case of getting them in the right order…”

  Becky giggled – Annabel’s affronted face was very funny.

  The triplets and their mum were on the train to London, sitting round a table sharing some cookies that Mrs Ryan had bought at the station as a treat. Katie was testing Annabel on her words for the play, and it wasn’t going too well.

  “You know,” said Katie thoughtfully. “I think the problem is that you’re only learning your own words.”