Before she had time to take in anything else, a boy with dark hair and deep blue eyes came up to her, and spoke. His words were in a language she didn’t recognise, but by some strange magic she could understand him perfectly.
‘May I have the pleasure of a dance?’ he asked.
‘Erm, pardon?’ replied Alana, blushing. Or that’s what she meant to say, but she found herself speaking in the same language as the boy.
‘Your dance card,’ he said. ‘I am sure that it must be full by now, but is there by chance a space in it for me?’
‘I don’t have a dance card,’ Alana replied.
‘But that is terrible!’ exclaimed the boy. ‘Please wait and I will fetch you one immediately.’
When the boy returned, he handed her a delicate silver case with a picture of a palace engraved on it. Attached to it was a tiny silver pencil. When she opened the clasp, there was a piece of card inside with a list of dances. At the top of the paper was written in swirly letters,
New Year’s Eve Ball, 1851.
Alana looked at it in amazement. ‘I know this might sound odd,’ she said to the boy, ‘but what year is it? And where am I? Is this some kind of fancy-dress dance where everyone has to dress up as a historical character?’
‘You ask funny questions!’ the boy said, laughing. ‘And I do not understand all of them. But of course, this is the New Year Ball of the Emperor Franz Josef, and we are in Vienna at the Schönbrunn Palace.’
Vienna! So it must be German that they were speaking to each other, Alana thought to herself.
‘And it’s 1851?’ she asked, her voice shaking slightly.
‘No, it is not,’ replied the boy.
‘Oh, that’s a relief!’ she said, giggling nervously. ‘I thought I was going crazy for a minute – like I’d travelled back in time or something.’
‘No,’ said the boy. ‘It is still 1850. But at the stroke of midnight, it will be 1851.’
‘Oh,’ said Alana, her face falling again.
‘But we are spending time talking when we should be dancing,’ continued the boy. ‘May I?’ he asked, holding out his hand for her dance card.
‘Erm, sure,’ replied Alana.
The boy wrote ‘Karl’ beside one of the dances on the card, then he gently clipped the silver case to her dress, held out his arm to her and led her on to the dance floor.
The music began, and Alana put all her concentration into getting the dance steps right. The floor was so vast that Karl was able to lead Alana in broad, sweeping turns, without them bumping into anyone else.
When the music finished, Karl bowed to her again and escorted her off the dance floor. Alana was so dizzy from the fast waltz tempo that, as she tried to reach a chair to sit down, she stumbled into one of the guests.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ she exclaimed.
‘Do not worry,’ replied the young lady she had crashed into, with a smile. ‘I am not hurt.’ The lady had silky blonde hair, which was fastened up with hairpins made of little silver flowers with a diamond in the middle of each one. Her pale pink dress was covered in tiny flowers to match. She truly does look like a princess, Alana thought.
The young lady curtsied, and returned to her dance partner. As Alana walked towards a chair, she noticed something sparkling on the marble floor. When she bent down to pick it up, she saw it was one of the lady’s hairpins.
Alana rushed back up to her. ‘Excuse me – you dropped this,’ she said.
The lady smiled and thanked her graciously. ‘But I do not know your name,’ she said.
‘It’s Alana,’ whispered Alana shyly.
‘And I am Princess Emmalina,’ replied the lady.
So she really is a princess! Alana thought as she watched her walk elegantly away.
After Alana had recovered from the waltz, she decided to explore. She wandered through the ballroom past tall archways and magnificent flower displays, then out of the door into a refreshment room with a table laden with food and drink.
A footman walked up to her and, bowing, held out a tray of crystal glasses filled with fruit juices of every colour. ‘Thank you,’ smiled Alana, choosing a glass of orange juice.
Sipping her drink, she wandered over to some tall windows at the end of the room, and gazed out at the palace’s perfectly manicured lawns. And as she stood there, she realised she was not alone. A teenage boy sat on the window seat, half hidden by the heavy drapes. He was staring into space and looked utterly miserable.
Alana felt so sorry for him that she just had to find out what was wrong.
‘Er, hi, I’m Alana,’ she said. ‘Are you OK? You don’t look OK.’
‘Please,’ muttered the boy. ‘I would rather not talk just now.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Alana, briskly. ‘My mum says that if you’re worried about something, it always helps to talk about it.’
The boy gave a deep sigh. ‘My father has told me I have to dance with the daughter of one of his wealthy acquaintances,’ he explained. ‘He wishes for our two families to become friends. But I cannot do the waltz, however much I try. My dancing teacher shouts at me every time I make a wrong step – until I feel so nervous that I cannot do any of the right steps at all.’
‘Maybe I can help you,’ suggested Alana. ‘What’s your name, anyway?’
‘Otto,’ replied the boy.
‘OK, come on Otto,’ said Alana. She took him firmly by the hand, and half led, half dragged him through some open doors on to a wide terrace. It was early evening, a warm breeze was blowing, and the music from the orchestra carried clearly across the gardens.
‘OK,’ said Alana. ‘Just remember the easy swaying action, like riding on the crest of a wave. I’m sure that if you don’t have your teacher shouting at you, you’ll find that you can do it. We begin by standing just like so. We’ll do seven natural turns and a change step, and then go into reverse turn, and don’t forget the flow.’
With panic in his eyes, Otto started spinning Alana round very fast. After a few seconds they both fell over. Otto looked stricken, until he caught Alana’s eye. Then, all at once, they both began to laugh. They were laughing so hard that they couldn’t even sit up.
At last Alana managed to stop laughing enough to get back on her feet. She held out her hand so the boy could do the same. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘we’re going to try again, and this time we’re going to do the steps nice and slowly. We can build up speed once you get used to it.’
When they began waltzing again, Otto could manage the steps much better. They practised over and over until at last they were spinning round in perfect time to the music. When the music stopped, they came to a halt, both laughing and out of breath. ‘That was great!’ exclaimed Alana. ‘I think you must have learned something from your dance teacher, after all. You just needed to relax a bit, and you can do the steps perfectly!’
‘It is entirely thanks to you,’ replied Otto, bowing to her. ‘And now I must go and find the Princess Emmalina.’
‘So that’s who he’s supposed to be dancing with,’ Alana thought to herself as she watched him disappear inside the palace. ‘No wonder he was nervous – she’s so beautiful, and she’s a princess.’
Alana decided to head back to the ballroom too. The moment she entered, three more boys came up to ask her to dance, and each wrote his name on her dance card.
As she danced with the first boy, Alana found she was starting to enjoy herself. Teaching Otto had given her a whole new confidence, so that now she could enjoy the sensation of the endless rotation of the Viennese Waltz without worrying about getting the feet wrong.
During her dance with her second partner, she realised that she wasn’t even having to think about what her feet were doing. She was waltzing completely naturally.
Halfway through the third dance, she passed her friend Otto dancing with Princess Emmalina. Otto was leading his partner smoothly round the ballroom and both of them were laughing. Alana smiled to herself. Her teaching had obviously do
ne the trick.
As Alana’s third partner bowed to her and left the floor, she heard the clock strike midnight. Amidst the cries of ‘Happy New Year!’, there came from faraway Madame Coco’s familiar voice. ‘Remember, when your good deed is done, the call of home will beckon. You will return home!’
Suddenly, Princess Emmalina rushed up to her. ‘Otto told me how you helped him this evening,’ she said. ‘I want to thank you.’ She gave Alana a hug.
Alana smiled and blushed, but she didn’t know what to say. Then she heard Madame Coco’s words once again. ‘You will return home! You will return home!’ The room felt as though it was spinning, even though she wasn’t waltzing any more. As she closed her eyes, she could no longer feel the marble floor beneath her feet. She felt herself whirling faster and faster, until all at once her feet touched the ground again.
Alana opened her eyes, and there she was in Madame Coco’s shop. Alana glanced at the clock, and saw that it was still early evening. She sighed with relief. Magically, no time had passed at all while she’d been at the palace.
Alana got changed back into her school clothes, carefully unclipping the dance card in its silver case and putting it in her bag.
‘Here, ma chérie,’ she said. ‘Take the dress home with you. I think it might bring you luck.’
‘Thank you, thank you, Madame Coco!’ cried Alana, throwing her arms around her. ‘I will only keep it for a short time, then I’ll bring it back.’
Madame Coco folded her ball dress carefully between layers of white tissue, then zipped it into a costume bag.
Alana ran down the street to her house, the dress over her arm. She didn’t know when she’d have a chance to wear it again, but it was so beautiful that she just couldn’t resist borrowing it.
Alana dashed through her front door, only fifteen minutes later than she was supposed to be. Her mum didn’t seem to have noticed she was late or that she had a costume bag over her arm.
Alana was in such a cheerful mood, she didn’t even mind looking after Abi that evening. I still don’t have a partner for the Ballroom Bonanza, she thought as she played a computer game with her sister, but at least I’ve had an adventure in a real Viennese palace!
At break the next day, Alana and Meena were wandering round the playground. Alana could think of nothing but her adventure. Her head was filled with the glow of the chandeliers and the sparkle of diamonds.
‘It’s not fair,’ Meena was saying. ‘Toby hates the Viennese Waltz so much, I think he’s getting worse at it instead of better. I really like him, but I wish I didn’t have to dance with him. D’you know, he brought his skateboard to Step Out Studio the other night. He started whizzing up and down the dance studio on it when Miss Trina wasn’t there. When she came in and saw him, she went crazy!’
‘Mmmmm? That’s nice,’ replied Alana, vaguely.
‘Alana!’ said Meena, stopping short and putting her hands on her hips. ‘Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?’
‘Yes, of course!’ said Alana, looking guilty.
‘So what was I saying then?’ Meena demanded.
‘Erm, that Miss Trina was skateboarding round the studio floor?’ answered Alana. ‘No, that can’t be right. Was it that Toby is teaching you to skateboard?’
‘Oh, forget it,’ huffed Meena. ‘Just because you don’t have a partner, you could at least be a bit sympathetic about me having to dance with Toby!’ And she stormed off.
Alana felt terrible. She ran after Meena and took her by the elbow. ‘I’m sorry!’ she insisted. ‘I just have a lot of things to think about. Tell me about Toby again, and I’ll listen properly this time, honest.’
‘OK,’ sighed Meena. She was so good-natured, she could never stay cross for long. She repeated everything she’d been saying. As the girls talked, they could see Toby on the other side of the playground. He was messing around as usual, pretending to have a swordfight with some of the other boys.
Watching him, Alana looked thoughtful. ‘I may have an idea,’ she said. ‘Give me a few minutes.’
Alana went over to Toby, grabbed the stick he was using as a sword and chucked it away.
‘Hey, what’re you doing?’ asked Toby indignantly.
‘I need to talk to you,’ replied Alana firmly. ‘Meena says you’re messing around when the two of you are meant to be practising the waltz.’
‘Well, it’s just boring,’ Toby said moodily. ‘And it’s really girly – all that twirly whirling around.’
‘Did you know,’ said Alana, ‘that the Viennese Waltz used to be danced by princes and emperors in amazing palaces?’
‘Yeah?’ asked Toby, looking a bit interested. But then his face fell again. ‘I’m not a prince, though, am I? And Meena will think I’m hopeless however hard I try.’
‘Meena doesn’t think you’re hopeless,’ replied Alana. ‘And she so much wants to get a place in the Ballroom Bonanza. It’s not fair if you don’t try, cos you’re spoiling her chances as well.’
Toby looked miserable, and kicked at the ground with his shoe, but he didn’t say anything.
‘Next time you’re doing the waltz,’ Alana suggested, ‘why don’t you imagine you’re a mighty emperor, and you’re celebrating a battle you’ve just won. Maybe that would help?’
Toby looked unsure, but Alana caught a spark of interest in his eyes.
‘Will you try, at least?’ she begged.
‘OK,’ sighed Toby, ‘I’ll try.’ And, picking up his stick again, he walked off to join the swordfight.
Meena had been watching Alana and Toby from across the playground. Alana gave a thumbs-up and Meena smiled.
The day came at last for Miss Trina to make her selection. Two couples from Step Out Studio would get to compete in the Ballroom Bonanza, and dance on a professional stage at the City Hall.
Alana’s mum had taken her exams a couple of days before, so Alana was able to come to the final dance class.
But I don’t have a partner, so what’s the point? thought Alana miserably as she watched everyone in the changing rooms, chatting excitedly. ‘Even if I was the best in the world at the Viennese Waltz it wouldn’t make any difference – no one can waltz by themselves.’
Keisha came up to her looking a bit embarrassed. ‘I’m really sorry, Alana. It’s rubbish that you can’t take part. And I’d much rather be dancing with you.’
‘It’s OK, Keisha,’ said Alana, squeezing her hand. ‘You shouldn’t have to miss out on the competition just because of my bad luck. Anyway, I bet you’re glad you’re getting to dance with a boy!’
‘Yeah, I do get a bit sick of always having to take the boy’s part, because I’m so tall,’ laughed Keisha.
Just then they overheard Verity talking in a loud voice from the other side of the lockers.
‘Matthew and I will definitely be chosen for the Ballroom Bonanza,’ she was saying, ‘so Mummy is going to take me to Paris to buy my ball gown. Normally I’d get it handmade for me, of course, but there just isn’t the time.’
Alana and Keisha looked at each other, then burst out laughing. Verity never could understand that the more she boasted, the sillier she sounded.
Verity poked her head round the lockers to see who was laughing. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said snootily when she saw Alana. ‘I’m surprised you were allowed to turn up to class today. I heard you had to stay home and look after your sister while your mum was out at work.’
‘My mum was not out at work,’ snapped Alana. ‘She was in the house studying for an exam, and she just needed me to be around for a bit.’
‘Hey hey, what’s all the shouting about?’ came a stern voice from the doorway. It was Miss Trina, standing with her hands on her hips and her eyes glittering dangerously. ‘I will not tolerate students arguing and shouting in my dance school – do you understand?’
‘Yes, Miss Trina,’ everyone murmured in subdued voices.
‘Good,’ the teacher replied. ‘Now, quickly into the studio. We’re going
to begin.’
Once all the students were ready and waiting, Miss Trina clapped her hands for silence.
‘Now,’ she called. ‘I want you to come out two at a time. When I start the music, you will begin the waltz, and when it’s over, you will bow or curtsey to your partner then go and sit down and the next couple will begin. So, who wants to be first?’
‘We do, we do!’ called Verity, dragging Matthew out on to the floor with her.
‘Very well,’ said Miss Trina. ‘When you’re ready, I’ll begin the music.’
Alana sat and watched as Verity and Matthew moved gracefully round the floor. Verity held her head high and a confident smile hovered round her lips. She knew how great she looked.
‘You have to admit, she does dance well,’ Alana whispered to Meena, who was sitting beside her. ‘And Matthew’s our best boy dancer by far.’
Meena nodded in agreement.
When the dance was finished, Chloe went up to Verity, beaming. ‘You looked like a real princess when you were doing that waltz!’ she sighed.
Chloe was one of Alana and Meena’s friends at Step Out Studio. She was amazingly kind and good-natured, but she never could realise that Verity was not a particularly nice person.
‘Well,’ said Verity, with a sidelong glance at Alana, ‘some people are simply born more special than others – certainly more special than those who don’t even have a dance partner.’
Alana Dancing Star Page 2