The Time of Your Life

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The Time of Your Life Page 13

by Isabella Cass


  'Are you trying to kill me now? You know I'm allergic to paracetamol!'

  'Sorry, I forgot,' Holly muttered, backing out of the door. Bianca was allergic to so many things, it was hard to keep track. But one thing Holly hadn't forgotten from her time as Bianca's room-mate – it was not a good idea to stick around when Bianca had a headache.

  Holly fled straight to Cat and Belle's room and told them what had just happened. 'So I was wrong,' she said. 'Little Foo-Foo really did die!'

  'I still don't buy it,' Cat insisted, folding her arms resolutely.

  Holly shook her head. 'If you'd seen her, you'd believe it.'

  'OK, I believe you,' Cat conceded. 'But it doesn't change the fact that she made the most of it by snuggling up to Jack, just where she knew Belle was going to see them. If anything happened to my dog, Duffy, I'd be on the next train home, not weeping in the arms of the nearest gorgeous boy.'

  'And you're sure it wasn't just another of Bianca's acts?' Belle asked suspiciously.

  'Sure!' Holly replied.

  No one could be that good an actress . . .

  Could they?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Cat: Cappuccino and the Meaning of Life

  At last it was Saturday, the Big Day – the day of the Macbeth performance.

  The final dress rehearsal had gone smoothly. No one forgot their lines or missed their cue. The music and sound-effects, scenery and costumes were perfect.

  Duncan Gillespie hugged them all. 'The curse has finally lifted!' He laughed. 'As long as no one says the M-word again!'

  Even Mr Sharpe was smiling as he gathered everyone on stage – actors, stage crew, wardrobe and props managers, lighting and sound engineers – for a final team talk. 'If William Shakespeare were here today . . .'

  'He'd be a very smelly four-hundred-year-old corpse,' Nick whispered. Cat suppressed a giggle: this was serious.

  'He'd be proud,' Mr Sharpe continued, the light on his glasses more a kindly twinkle than a blinding flash today. 'Well done, everyone!'

  'Indubitably,' Mr Grampian added. 'An auspicious beginning to a momentous occasion . . .'

  'And remember, the Shakespeare production is one of the most important events in our entire calendar,' Mr Sharpe reminded them. 'The reputation of the Garrick is in your hands tonight . . .'

  So, Cat thought, no pressure then!

  After checking that her costumes were ready for the evening's performance, she wandered across the courtyard with Nathan. Distant shouts drifted over from a football match on the sports field. Holly would be there watching Ethan play. Belle had gone to help Serena print out the Macbeth programmes. The sun was shining in a pale blue winter sky, but Cat was uneasy. Of course she was nervous about tonight, but it was more than that. A strange sensation was gnawing at her stomach.

  'Café Roma for lunch?' Nathan suggested.

  Cat knew that the gnawing feeling was definitely not hunger – she was far too nervous to eat – but a coffee would be perfect . . .

  'What's wrong?' Nathan asked, when they'd been sitting at a corner table in the warm café for several minutes. 'You've been staring into that cappuccino as if it holds the key to the Meaning of Life!'

  'Oh, sorry, Nate,' Cat murmured. She'd finally identified the gnawing feeling. 'I feel ashamed of myself,' she said quietly.

  Nathan's eyes widened behind his glasses.

  'It's OK.' Cat smiled at his shocked expression. 'I've not stolen the Crown Jewels or anything!'

  'You've not been putting rude comments about Mrs Salmon on RateMy Teachers dot com, have you?' Nathan joked.

  Cat grinned. 'Ooh! Don't put ideas into my head!' Then she was solemn again. 'Thing is, I've really upset my mum . . .'

  Nate nodded, sipped his coffee and waited for her to continue.

  'We've hardly spoken to each other since I stormed out of the Bugsy Malone audition,' Cat sighed. 'I texted her about the play tonight, and she hasn't even replied. She must be so angry she doesn't want to come. I thought I didn't care, but I do. Mum's always been there to support me before – I just wish she could see how important it is to me to be a serious actress . . .'

  'Have you got your phone with you now?' Nathan asked.

  'Yeah, of course,' Cat said, 'but I checked a minute ago. There's no message.'

  'Phone your mother,' Nathan said. 'Just speak to her, Cat.'

  'But . . . I can't!' Cat moaned. 'I feel so guilty – and we'd probably end up just yelling at each other again . . .'

  Nathan stirred his coffee. 'Don't leave it too late,' he said quietly. 'My mother died in a car crash when I was eight years old. There are many things I wish I'd said . . .'

  Cat swallowed her mouthful of coffee. The hot liquid burned her throat. 'Oh, Nathan, I'm so sorry,' she said, reaching out to touch his hand. 'I had no idea.' No wonder he was so convincing when he played the part of Macduff finding out that his family had been killed – he was drawing on his own experience. Tears were pricking at her eyes.

  Nathan smiled bravely. 'It's OK. It was a long time ago.'

  Cat felt terrible. There she was, whingeing on about some pathetic little quarrel with her mum, when Nathan didn't even have a mother any more – somehow it put everything into perspective. 'You're right, Nate,' she said, suddenly making up her mind. 'I need to get over myself and make the call!' She took her phone out of her pocket and dialled home. Her sister, Fiona, answered.

  'Is Mum there, Fi?' Cat asked.

  'Yeah, she's just coming. She's been really miserable,' Fiona whispered. 'Says you're pushing her out of your life . . .'

  Now Cat felt even worse!

  'Yes?' Mum's voice sounded unusually stiff. 'Catrin?'

  'Mum,' Cat said, swallowing hard, 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you away. I just . . . need to do some things my own way.'

  There was a silence. For an awful moment Cat thought her mum had hung up. But then she heard a little sniffle. 'I'm sorry too, dear. I know I've been bossy – it's just I want so much for you . . .'

  'I know,' Cat gulped. 'So will you come and see me in Macbeth tonight?'

  'I was worried you didn't really want me to come—'

  'Of course I want you to come,' Cat replied. 'This is huge for me. There'll be agents and critics in the audience and everything. I couldn't do it without you there!'

  Mum's voice sounded a whole lot brighter as she replied, 'Of course I'll be there, darling!'

  Cat hung up and smiled at Nathan as they got up from their table to leave. 'Thanks, Nate. I can't tell you how much better I feel now!' She hugged him warmly. 'You're a truly special friend, you know,' she whispered.

  Nathan grinned and wiped a tear from her eye. 'You too,' he mumbled.

  'Uh-oh!' Cat said as she turned to see Bianca and Mayu standing in the doorway, mouths hanging open. 'I think we've just provided next week's school gossip!

  'Hello, girls! Table for two free in the corner now!' she chirped as she and Nathan squeezed past on their way out.

  For once Bianca and Mayu were speechless.

  Cat threw back her head and laughed, feeling the delicate winter sun warm her face. She was on top of the world again. 'Race you back to school!' she shouted over her shoulder to Nathan, setting off across the square.

  She leaped up the steps three at a time, neck and neck with him. As they bolted into the entrance hall, Cat spotted Holly and Belle sitting on the big leather sofa.

  'End-of-term reports,' Holly called, waving an envelope. 'It's only a week until the Christmas holidays!'

  Cat said goodbye to Nathan, took her report from her pigeon hole and joined the other two on the sofa. 'Your report OK?' she asked Holly.

  'Yeah, fine,' Holly replied. 'Miss Morgan's given me some really nice comments.'

  'And I bet Belle's is the usual Picture of Perfection?'

  Belle looked down modestly, but Holly grinned. 'Of course – A-stars all over the place!'

  Cat opened her report quickly to get it over with. 'A mixed bag, I th
ink you'd call it!' Her school subjects included some Bs and Cs, with only one A, for English, and a rather embarrassing D for science. But Mr Grampian had written almost an entire page of praise for her work in acting classes and Macbeth.

  And, in the end, as far as Cat was concerned, that was all that mattered!

  That, and the fact she had a show to do tonight.

  She was more nervous than she'd ever been about anything in her life.

  But she couldn't wait!

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Holly: Lavender Oil, Raspberry Ripple and Polos

  Holly settled into the seat next to Gemma. The Redgrave Theatre was rapidly filling up with smartly dressed people – all anticipating a fabulous performance of . . . The Scottish Play. No one would dare even think the M-word in the theatre tonight!

  A small party of butterflies was having a little sympathy-flutter in her stomach. What if Cat or Ethan or Nathan forgot their lines, or Belle missed her cue? What if Lettie's music didn't play or Nick's sound-effects squawked? What if one of Serena and Lucy's costumes fell apart and left an actor standing in their underwear? So many things could go wrong! But nothing must go wrong. This was a big chance for her friends – especially Cat – to shine and show their Star Quality in front of all these important people. It was almost more nerve-racking than being up on stage herself.

  It'll be my chance next term, Holly thought excitedly. She was determined to win a part in the Dance Department's Nutcracker Sweeties.

  Then Gemma nudged her elbow as they heard a woman's voice behind them. 'I hope Bianca has remembered her lavender oil. She gets so stressed out before a big performance, poor lamb . . .'

  'That must be Bianca's mother!' Gemma whispered.

  Holly nodded. 'No one but her mother could call Bianca a poor lamb.'

  She couldn't resist turning to look. She saw a statuesque woman in a severe black and white tailored dress, with the same platinum-blonde hair and ice-blue eyes as Bianca, sitting next to a short, round man in a pinstripe suit. He must be Bianca's father, head of the Hayford baby-food empire, Holly realized.

  On impulse, she smiled and introduced herself.

  'Pleased to meet you,' Mrs Hayford replied, not looking terribly pleased.

  'I've seen some of the rehearsals. Bianca is brilliant as Hecate,' Holly persisted.

  Bianca's mother thawed a little. 'Thank you. Yes, Bianca is an exceptionally talented actress . . .'

  Holly suddenly remembered how upset Bianca had been about little Foo-Foo. Losing a pet must be awful for the whole family. She felt she had to say something. 'I'm so sorry about Bianca's little dog,' she said. 'Poor Foo-Foo—'

  'Dog?' Mrs Hayford wrinkled her nose in disgust, as if Holly had suggested that Bianca owned a colony of dung beetles or a pet tarantula. 'Bianca's never had a dog! In fact, she's hated dogs ever since . . .'

  '. . . she was nipped by a rogue shih-tzu when she was five,' Mr Hayford finished for her.

  'In a very delicate place,' Bianca's mother added, pursing her lips. 'She couldn't sit down for weeks.'

  'Oh, dear,' Holly murmured. 'I must have been thinking of someone else.' She turned away to hide the giggles that were threatening to erupt, and refused to meet Gemma's eye. Gemma had obviously heard the conversation and was also quivering with suppressed laughter. But for Holly, Bianca's unfortunate encounter with the shih-tzu wasn't the only thing that was plastering a huge grin across her face – it was the realization that Bianca had invented the entire Foo-Foo's-gone-to-the-Great-Poodle-Parlour-in-the-Sky story after all – just as she had first suspected.

  Bianca had tricked Jack.

  And she'd tricked Holly into feeling guilty for doubting her.

  Mrs Hayford was right – Bianca was an exceptionally talented actress!

  The lights went down and spine-chilling cello music filled the theatre. Soon Holly was totally swept up in the dark, menacing mood of the play. It opened with the three witches in a thunderstorm, plotting their fateful encounter with Macbeth, 'When shall we three meet again . . .' and the action was soon hurtling towards the crucial scene where Macbeth and Lady Macbeth murder King Duncan in his sleep.

  Everything went perfectly. Ethan was gorgeous and noble as Banquo, even after he was murdered and appeared as a ghost. Belle delivered her Messenger lines beautifully. Nathan was great as Macduff. But it was Cat who really stole the show, stunning in her red and black outfit – ruthless, determined and very, very dangerous. Holly was overjoyed, and proud of all of them!

  At the end of Act Three, the curtain went down for the intermission. There was a moment's silence as the audience returned from the murky world of witches and ghosts to the reality of queuing for drinks and ice creams.

  But Holly was a girl with a mission more pressing even than a tub of raspberry ripple. The information she'd gleaned from Bianca's parents was too important to keep to herself for a second longer! She stole down the steps and out through the fire exit, taking a short cut to the dressing rooms at the back of the stage. She found Belle in the room she shared with the other girls playing minor parts, adjusting a lace on her tunic.

  'Quick, Belle,' Holly whispered. 'Come with me to Cat's room. I've got something to tell you, and Cat won't want to miss it!'

  Frowning with curiosity, Belle followed Holly along the passage. Holly knocked and entered to find Cat changing costumes, ready for the sleepwalking scene. 'What's up?' she asked as she popped her head out of the top of a long white nightgown.

  'OK, news just in,' Holly announced. 'I've spoken to Bianca's parents. Foo-Foo didn't die!'

  'You mean . . . they saved him?' Belle asked, her eyes wide with surprise. 'Like, from a coma or something?'

  'No-o-o. I mean Foo-Foo didn't die because he never even existed in the first place. Bianca made the whole thing up. She tricked Jack.'

  Cat and Belle both stared at Holly in amazement. 'Are you sure?' Belle gasped.

  She nodded. 'Absolutely!'

  Cat laughed. 'Wow! Amazing! Bianca is an even better actress than we thought.'

  'Not as good as you though! You were brilliant, Cat!' Holly said, suddenly remembering that Cat was in the middle of a vitally important play and still had a scene to do. 'Now we'll leave you in peace and talk later . . .'

  She dragged Belle out of Cat's dressing room into the corridor. 'Belle, now we know Bianca was tricking Jack, why don't you go and talk to him?' she suggested.

  'Er, well, maybe . . . I'll think about it . . .' Belle's voice trailed off.

  Holly looked up and saw Jack buying mints at the vending machine. She turned to give Belle an encouraging no-time-like-the-present smile. They were even dressed in identical Messenger costumes. This was obviously the perfect romantic moment.

  But Belle had disappeared!

  This is ridiculous! Holly thought. She was going to have to tell Jack about Bianca's trickery or these two were never going to make it to the Tower of London! But then she hesitated. Would telling Jack be the right thing to do? She had a high-speed debate with her conscience. If someone she thought was a good friend had deceived her, would she want to know about it? Yes, she would! But was she interfering? Yes, she was! But if Belle and Cat hadn't interfered in her love life, she might never have got together with Ethan . . .

  Holly reached a decision just as Jack looked up. 'Jack,' she said, 'can I talk to you for a moment?'

  'Sure.' He grinned, slouching against the machine and offering her a Polo.

  Holly went over and checked for eavesdroppers before speaking very quietly, 'Bianca was lying to you about the dog . . .' she began, and quickly recounted the whole story.

  Jack stared at her in silence throughout. 'I can't believe it!' he said, rubbing his forehead.

  'I'm sorry. I wouldn't have told you if I wasn't certain,' Holly explained.

  'No, I mean I just can't get my head round it! I knew Bianca had a bit of a thing about Belle. But I thought it was just, you know, friendly rivalry.'

  'Yeah, like Harry
Potter had a friendly rivalry with Voldemort!' Holly laughed grimly.

  'But I never realized Bianca could stoop so low. She's been lying to me all along to get my sympathy!'

  'So maybe you could try talking to Belle again?' Holly coaxed.

  Jack kicked the base of the vending machine in exasperation. 'Chance would be a fine thing! She's acting as if I've got rabies or something. I can't get near her.'

  Holly nodded. That was certainly true! But she was sure that if she could just bypass Belle's force-field of embarrassment and get them alone in the same room together for five minutes, everything would work out . . .

  Suddenly she came to another decision. Now I've started down this matchmaker route, I may as well go the whole hog, she thought. 'Meet us in Cat's dressing room straight after the play,' she whispered.

  Jack shrugged. 'OK, but don't hold your breath. Belle will probably climb out the window when she sees me.'

  My work here is done! Holly thought as she slipped back into the theatre and found her seat, accepting the slightly melted ice cream that Gemma offered her.

  The house lights dimmed and the Witches' sinister theme music struck up again.

  Holly smiled happily.

  There was no window in Cat's dressing room!

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Cat: The Best Feeling in the World

  Cat took a deep breath and stepped out on stage again.

  She was Lady Macbeth.

  She stumbled across the stage in her ghostly white nightgown, trying to wash away the blood of King Duncan. But the blood kept coming back. She could tell from that special, magical theatre-silence that the audience was spellbound. Everyone could see the blood – a red spotlight playing across her hands – just as Lady Macbeth could see it in her tormented hallucination. 'Here's the smell of the blood still . . .'

  After her scene, Cat waited in the wings for the play to end, in a limbo of suspended elation. As the final curtain fell, she could hear the swell of applause. The curtain rose and everyone ran onstage to take their bows. Finally it was her turn. Catching Luke's eye, she jogged out to join him centre stage, took his hand, walked forward and . . .

 

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