by Holly Webb
“Are you sure—” Becky was starting to ask anxiously, when suddenly Julianne dashed out and raced past them in tears. She caught sight of Katie and Becky and spat, “This is all your fault! I hate you!” at Becky as she ran off.
Becky looked shocked, and David put his arm round her. “It’s OK, she thought you were Bel, that’s all.”
Katie got up. “Come on. Let’s go and wait outside. I don’t want to have to talk to him. Let’s hope Bel goes off him soon!”
Chapter Nine
“Sorry everybody! Just sit tight for the moment – Mr Hatton’s having some trouble with the lighting board.”
“Tell me about it,” muttered Annabel crossly. The silvery-purple lighting for her transformation scene had come out a sickening green when Mr Hatton ran through the effects earlier on, and since then he and the boys running the lights had been climbing up and down ladders looking harassed.
“I thought it looked good,” someone sniggered. “It suited you, Annabel.” Amy was standing behind her, wearing her costume.
“Not as much as that make-up suits you. It’s a huge improvement, Amy, you should wear it all the time. And I love what you’ve done to your hair.”
Amy’s costume included a greying wig and a lot of lines on her face, and she was very sensitive about it. She stalked off furiously.
Everyone was getting a bit snappish and short-tempered – they seemed to have been waiting for ages to start the dress rehearsal. It was a good thing that Ms Loftus had warned them to bring snacks in with them, although Miss Davies was running about in a panic pouncing on anyone who looked as though they might be daring to eat in their costume. She had some overall things that anybody who wanted to consume so much as a morsel of chocolate had to put on over the top.
It felt very weird being at school on a Saturday afternoon, Annabel thought. But they couldn’t possibly have done this after school – they’d have been there all night. She turned to Saima, who was sitting next to her, about to say something along these lines, but stopped when she caught sight of her friend’s face. Saima was looking really pale.
“Are you OK?”
Saima gulped. “Being in our costumes, and having all the sets and lights and everything – it all seems really scary! I don’t think I can remember how my song goes!”
“Course you can,” Annabel told her firmly. “You know it backwards, Saima, you do it brilliantly. And you look amazing. I’m so jealous of those wings.”
Miss Davies had proudly revealed the finishing touch to Saima’s costume when they turned up to get ready that afternoon. The wings were made of golden gauzy stuff to match Saima’s gold dress. They were attached to her back with straps that were hidden by the dress, and they quivered beautifully whenever she moved.
“I’m just really nervous. I wish we could get on with it! What happens if I freeze up when I’m onstage?”
Amy was suddenly back, flanked by Cara and Emily in their court lady costumes, and all looking superior. “If you think that you’re going to mess up you shouldn’t have auditioned in the first place. You’ve got a solo – if you do it wrong you’ll spoil everything. It’s really selfish of you only to be saying this now, Saima. Somebody else could have had that part, somebody who’d do it properly.”
“Somebody like you, I suppose!” retorted Annabel, who could see that Saima, who wouldn’t normally have let Amy get away with that sort of thing, had tears in her eyes.
“Well, why not?” Amy snapped back.
“Because Saima’s better than you’d ever be, even if she is nervous. She can sing in tune for a start, and she doesn’t have all those expensive singing lessons you’re always boasting about.”
“I have a trained voice—”
“Yeah, trained like a dog, Amy. You sound like a poodle getting a haircut, it’s horrible!”
“Right everyone! Places please, we’re finally getting under way.” Ms Loftus effectively stopped their argument – everyone was desperate to get going. Amy contented herself with glaring at Annabel and Saima, then whisked her heavy brocade skirts round and flounced off.
“C’mon, Saima. It’s going to be fine. You’re onstage with me most of the time, remember, and we’ll cover for each other if anything goes wrong. And there’s Katie and Megan prompting too, there’s no way they’ll let you mess up.” Annabel hugged Saima carefully – the fairy wings were pretty fragile.
“Break a leg!” said Saima, summoning up a small smile as they walked to the wings to wait for their entrances. Becky, Fran and David were going to be fetching people in time for their scenes throughout the play, but everyone wanted to watch the beginning rather than waiting in the dressing rooms – it was too exciting!
The scene with Cinderella’s parents went perfectly, and then it was Annabel’s turn. Her first solo was a sad one, about how lonely she was, and how much she missed her parents who’d died when she was little. Ms Loftus and Mr Becket had told her to aim to have the entire audience sniffing if possible – she had to really pile on the emotion. Luckily Annabel adored being a bit over the top, so she had no problem with this. Having very large blue eyes didn’t hurt either. She had to end the song sitting at the edge of the stage with her knees curled up under her, and then collapse to the floor and cry, until the boys playing the Ugly Sisters interrupted her.
Katie, who was sitting in the wings with her prompt script, wearing the hated ragged costume and a huge set of headphones and a little mike so she could talk to the stage crew, rolled her eyes at Becky. Annabel was milking it for all it was worth! She could actually cry on cue, and she wept bitterly and realistically until Joe and Pete came in and started shouting at her. Everyone creased up then – it was very clever of Ms Loftus, Annabel had explained, as the audience went straight from the really sad bit to the comic turn, so the sad bit seemed sadder and the funny bit funnier. Miss Davies had really gone to town on Joe and Pete – they had enormous dresses on with stripy tights underneath, high heels (they’d had to be taught how to walk in them), wigs with loads of feathers and bows in, and amazingly awful make-up.
After her first scene Annabel had a break, so she headed to the dressing room to get a drink of water. Manor Hill was very lucky – the hall was fitted out with a really good stage, with loads of equipment, and proper dressing rooms behind. It was great – it made Annabel feel like a real actress, even if she was sharing the dressing room with about twenty other girls. The dressing room was empty at the moment – everyone was still watching from the wings, she supposed. She slumped into a chair, suddenly feeling tired – she’d been so keyed up all day that as soon as she relaxed it really hit her. The dressing room had a monitor in the corner that showed what was happening onstage and so Annabel knew she had plenty of time. She would need to start psyching herself up again in about five minutes though. She’d do some voice exercises and stretches so as to be on form for her next bit, which was the transformation scene with Saima. She lolled back in the chair, and had just closed her eyes for a second when the dressing-room door slammed open and Amy rushed in. She looked totally weird because she was in her costume and make-up, but didn’t have her wig on, so her lined face was topped off with her own wavy strawberry-blonde hair.
“What’s up with you?” Annabel asked, in a much more friendly way than she’d normally speak to Amy. She’d been caught on the hop by Amy’s sudden entrance, and Amy looked really upset – Annabel was too nice to be mean to someone who was clearly in a state, even if she did hate her guts.
Amy seemed to have temporarily forgotten their war as well. “I’ve lost my wig! I took it off because it was making me so hot, and now I can’t find it. It’s got to be in here somewhere, I’ve looked everywhere else.”
Annabel looked up at the monitor. “Hey, aren’t you meant to be on in a minute?”
“Yes!” Amy snarled back. “And I can’t go on without my wig, Miss Davies’ll murder me –
it’s hired and I’m supposed to take really good care of it. Oh, where is it?” She was rifling through piles of clothes as she spoke, desperately searching, and not caring that she was making a total mess that would panic a whole load of other people when they arrived for their next change.
Annabel got up to help. “Be careful – I don’t think it’ll be in all that stuff. Look, you and Emily and Cara were sitting over here before, maybe you left it – oh, is that it, under the bench?”
“Yes!” Amy swooped down to retrieve it, then looked up at the monitor and gasped. “Oh no, they’re coming off - it’s me next!”
Annabel rushed into action as Amy was obviously dithering about whether to get onstage now or stop to put her wig on. “Come on, get into the wings and then I’ll put the wig on for you – run!”
They raced for the wings, and Annabel managed to cram Amy into her wig and crown just in time, and then literally shoved her on to the stage for her entrance.
“What was all that about?” whispered Becky in amazement.
“She couldn’t find her wig – oh no, look, she’s dried.”
Amy was standing onstage staring desperately at Josh and the boy playing the king. The panic about her wig had clearly thrown her, and she’d forgotten her lines. She just about remembered them when Katie prompted her, but she flushed scarlet under her makeup and looked furious with herself. The scene limped along as Amy, who wasn’t normally a bad actress, never quite recovered herself.
Annabel watched critically. That was the problem with getting prompted – it threw you, and then it was really hard to get back into the character. As Amy came off at the end of the scene she smiled at her – a perfectly nice, natural, sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry – it was just because of the wig. You’ll be fine for the real thing.”
She was expecting Amy to be a bit upset, but to say thank you for helping her out, at least. She didn’t. What she actually did was grab Annabel’s arm and drag her out of the wings into the dressing-room corridor.
“Hey! I’ve got to be on in a minute, what are you doing?”
Amy shook her. “This is all your fault!” she hissed. “You did it, didn’t you? You hid my wig on purpose to make me late!”
“Ow! Stop it! No, of course I didn’t, I found it for you, you saw me!”
“Yes, after you’d hidden it first! I’m not that stupid, Annabel Ryan, why should you suddenly be all nice and helpful like that? You’d set it up, you sneaky—”
“Hey!” Becky, David and Fran had chased after them, and Becky made a grab for Amy’s arm. “Stop it!”
David rather gingerly caught Amy’s other arm – but Amy shook them off and disappeared down the corridor, apparently in tears.
“Wow! What was all that about?” asked David, looking at Annabel in amazement. “She’s really got it in for you!”
“She’s crazy,” muttered Annabel, massaging her arm. “It’s a good thing you lot turned up – she’d have had my dead body buried in the props box any minute. Hey! I’ve got to be on!” She rushed off, leaving Becky, David and Fran staring after her.
After that little drama, the rest of the dress rehearsal seemed pretty straightforward to Annabel. The only hiccup was when she nearly lost it in the transformation scene. The dry ice and stage fireworks looked fantastic, but the expression on Katie’s face as she stood there in the rags costume was so funny. Cinderella was clearly not happy about the whole experience.
Ms Loftus was cautiously optimistic as she called everybody out front for a post-mortem. “Well done, all of you, that was very good. Words though, please – Katie had to do far too much prompting! And that reminds me, I’d just like to say thank you to all the technical crew, they did brilliantly. And to the set-painters, the scenery looks fantastic. Round of applause for all of them, please!”
It wasn’t until they got home that night that the triplets finally had a chance to talk about what had happened with Amy.
Annabel had almost forgotten about it – everyone had been so nice about her performance that she was practically walking on air. Katie brought her back down to earth with a bump at tea that night.
“Why were you fighting with Amy, Bel?”
Mrs Ryan looked up sharply. “Fighting?”
“I wasn’t! She was fighting with me! Honestly, Mum, she’s mad. She lost her wig, and I found it for her, and then she messed up her scene because she was in a panic. Then she just went crazy and said it was my fault. She said I’d hidden it.”
“Oh, so that’s why she messed up that scene,” Katie exclaimed. “I did wonder, ’cause she’d never lost it like that before. But honestly, did she really think you’d set it all up? That’s stupid.”
“I bet she didn’t really,” Becky said thoughtfully. “She probably didn’t want to admit it was her own fault – she was desperate to find someone else to blame, and you were there. If I were you, Bel, I’d stay well out of her way…”
Chapter Ten
“It’s true, honestly, I read it somewhere! It’s really bad luck to have a good dress rehearsal, it means the performance is going to go totally wrong.” Annabel stabbed her fork at Auntie Janet for emphasis, and then put it down. “Oh, I’m too nervous, I can’t eat anything.”
“Do you enjoy panicking, Bel? It seems like it. Just shut up, can’t you?” snapped Katie irritably.
Annabel wisely decided not to argue. Katie, she suspected, was actually quite nervous too. She didn’t have to do anything except stand there in her ragged costume and hand Saima the rose that Cinderella had been sent to pick from the garden to finish off the spell, but it was the first time she’d done anything like this since the nativity play at infant school. And she hated having to wear the costume – or, as she preferred to call it, “this stupid outfit”. Annabel nipped round the table and gave her sister a hug. “You’ve only got to be on stage for two minutes, and it’ll be so easy. You don’t need to worry. I’m sorry about being jittery, but I just can’t stand the idea that something might go wrong. We’ve all worked so hard!”
“Yes, it’s really nice that all three of you are involved,” Auntie Janet smiled round at them. “I’m so looking forward to it. What time do we need to set off? You’ll need a while to change, won’t you?”
“I’m going to run the girls up to the school any minute, and come back for you, Jan,” explained Mrs Ryan. “Otherwise we’ll be sitting around for hours, and I know what the chairs are like in that hall.”
“Right. OK, Annabel, see you onstage! Break a leg!”
“I can see Mum and Auntie Janet in the audience!” Annabel was peeking through a tiny gap round the side of the curtains. “Urrgh, they’re sitting in front of Max and his dad.”
“Get back!” Katie hissed. “People will see you!” She was taking her ASM duties very seriously.
“Oh, I wish I was in the first scene, I just want to get on with it,” Annabel moaned, but Katie was ignoring her. Her job was about to start.
“Becky, is everyone ready for Scene One?” she asked over the mike. Obviously the answer was yes, as she went on, “OK, house lights down, and go with the curtains!” Annabel dug her nails into her palms – she so wanted everything to go right!
For the first scene she and Saima watched the stage over Katie’s shoulder as she sat with the prompt script, and tried to resist fiddling with the stuff on Megan’s props table. Annabel grinned to herself as a low murmur of laughter sounded from the hall. The audience seemed to be enjoying it – they were laughing in the right places, and there hadn’t been any of those horrible dead pauses where a line fell flat. She seemed to have got past being nervous now, she noticed thankfully. She was just really looking forward to getting onstage – there was just the big crowd scene, where the herald announced to everyone that the prince was to be married, and then it was her!
“Annabel.”
Annabel jumped. It
was Amy, and Annabel took a step back, wondering if she was about to make another grab for her. “What do you want?” she asked angrily. Saima scowled, and moved closer to back her up, and Katie darted a swift glance at them – she had to concentrate on what was happening on stage, but she was desperate to know what was going on.
Amy put up her hands in a “back off” gesture. “I’m only trying to help!” she said innocently. “I thought you’d want to know, that’s all. I just saw your sister – she’s really upset.”
“Becky? What’s the matter with her?” Annabel looked round anxiously, as though expecting to find Becky somewhere.
“She had a row with her boyfriend, um, what’s-his-name…”
“David?”
“Yeah. Anyway, she was really crying, and she ran off – I think she went to the dressing room. I thought you might want to know.”
“Thanks!” Annabel was already halfway out of the wings – if Becky and David had had a fight her sister would be devastated.
“Bel! You can’t go!” Saima hissed. “You’re on soon!”
“I’ll be back!” Annabel whispered. “I will – don’t worry!” Saima and Megan were looking worried, and Katie was frantically shaking her head, but Annabel was gone.
Annabel pelted down the corridor. She reckoned she had about three minutes to find Becky, and sort her out – she’d have to take her back to the wings where Katie and Megan could look after her. Where was Fran? She slammed open the dressing-room door. No Becky. But then she wouldn’t be obvious, would she, if she was crying? She’d have curled up somewhere to hide. Perhaps the costume cupboard? Annabel raced down to the other end of the long room. “Becky? Becky, are you there? Please come out, I’ve got to be on stage in, like, two minutes!”
But unless Becky had climbed inside a cardboard box, she wasn’t there either. Annabel glanced up at the monitor. It was no good – she had to get back, now. She dashed out of the dressing room – or rather she would have done, if the door hadn’t been locked…