Drama at Silver Spires

by Ann Bryant

  I thought she’d just quickly tell me which pages of the book to look at before the next lesson, but it turned out to be a mini lecture about not checking my homework, or prep, as it’s called at boarding school, before giving it in, and not concentrating hard enough in class. But when she started going through my mistakes from the last prep I could feel the steam coming out of my ears. Good old Katy came to the rescue though.

  “Excuse me, Mam’zelle Clemence, but I’ve got to go to running club, only I wanted to ask you about costumes for the play and if you thought we might be able to get involved in our fashion club?”

  Mam’zelle Clemence absolutely loves fashion so she quickly wished me luck in the auditions, then turned her attention to Katy. I threw Katy a thank-you-for-saving-me look and rushed out at four hundred miles an hour.

  Mia was waiting for me, along with Naomi, Grace and Jess, and we shot off to the main building.

  “Sure you won’t change your mind and audition for a small part at least?” I asked them all. “It would be so much more fun if I had my friends with me at rehearsals.” I put on my most pleading face but it didn’t do any good.

  “I’d rather do detention every day for a week!” Grace said with a shudder, as though I’d asked her to help me slaughter a cow or something. We all laughed because she looked so serious.

  I put my hands up. “All right, Grace! No one’s forcing you!”

  Naomi shook her head. “I really don’t like the thought of all those people watching me.” That’s typical of Naomi. She must be the most modest princess on earth. “But Georgie…” she went on, and I sensed a little lecture coming in my direction. “I know you’ll be mega brilliant and everything, only… try not to be disappointed if you don’t get the part you want. It won’t be your fault, it’s just that if there are two people who are both equally good, I guess Miss Pritchard will choose whoever’s older, as that’s the fairest thing to do.”

  She was looking at me really seriously and my heart didn’t exactly sink, but it certainly started floundering around because Naomi’s always right about stuff like that and if Cara and I both did as well as each other in the auditions, then Miss Pritchard would choose Cara because she’s older. The floundering only lasted about two seconds though, because I had a sudden picture of the teachers at my primary school all congratulating me after the Year Six play. There was one particularly strict and grumpy teacher who even made a point of coming up to me the next day when she was on playground duty. She said she’d had tears of laughter rolling down her face during the play, because I’d brought the character of Nick Bottom to life in such a comic way. I remember her shaking her head and saying, “You know, I never appreciated how funny Shakespeare was until now!”

  Naomi and Grace wished me good luck over and over again and then went rushing off, and Jess said, “Don’t forget to find out whether I’m allowed to help paint the scenery,” as she followed after them.

  When Mia and I got upstairs into the corridor outside the drama hall we found it absolutely full to bursting with chattering students, and on the door of the drama hall was a large notice.

  NO ENTRY UNLESS AUDITIONING!

  “I’d better go then,” said Mia.

  “Yes, I suppose…” I looked at my watch. One minute to five. “Help! This is it!” I squeaked and Mia gave me a tight hug.

  “Trillions and quadrillions of luck, then, Georgie.” Then she lowered her voice. “But don’t forget, even if you don’t get Amy, it’ll be brilliant to get any part with all this lot here!”

  When she said that I suddenly felt more determined than ever to prove what I could do. Huh! My friends would all be eating their words by supper time. Or was it eating their hats? I’d never been too sure on that one.

  As soon as Mia had gone, the drama-hall door opened and Miss Pritchard beckoned the chattering throng inside. I could hear Cara’s loud voice behind me but I didn’t turn round.

  “It’s clever the way the singers link up all the scenes, isn’t it?” she was saying. “So that we get the idea of time passing without having to act out every little bit of the story.”

  I felt my hackles rising. I didn’t know there were going to be singers in the play. So how come Cara knew? I resisted the temptation to start questioning her about that though, and tried to calm myself down so I’d be in the right kind of mood for the auditions.

  “Right, come and sit down, everyone,” said Miss Pritchard, raising her voice above the noise.

  When she spoke we all listened, just like we’d done in assembly, and I thought what a powerful lady she is. In fact I decided right there and then that she was going to be my role model. She looked so cool in her trendy jogging bottoms and white T-shirt, with her hair in a high ponytail.

  “Firstly, can I just check that there isn’t anyone here who doesn’t want to audition?” Glancing round I noticed that Cara only had two friends with her now, so the rest of her fan club had obviously just been waiting outside to support their idol.

  “I know it takes a great deal of courage to go up onstage and act in front of your peers,” Miss Pritchard went on, “and I could have organized private individual auditions, but this way saves a lot of time and it’s helpful for me to be able to see whether or not you’re going to be self-conscious when it comes to rehearsing and performing…”

  I hadn’t actually been worried about everyone watching me, but I knew some people would be, and now Miss Pritchard had made a special point of mentioning it I was determined to show her exactly how confident and unselfconscious I was.

  “As you know, the Year Nines have already auditioned for their first choice of part and I’ve noted down their second choices. I’m going to do exactly the same with you in a few moments, so I’d like you to write down your name and your second choice, if you’ve got one, on this paper. If you don’t manage to get a speaking part this time, there’s always next year, remember. Just one more point…the stage in this hall is much smaller than the one in the theatre, so bear that in mind. Okay, when I call out the name of a character, if you want to audition for that character for your first choice you should come and wait at the front and I’ll send you up one at a time. Any questions?”

  “When will we find out if we’ve got a part?” someone asked.

  “I’ll get the list up by morning break tomorrow hopefully, or definitely by lunchtime. Right!” Miss Pritchard rubbed her hands together and gave us a great big grin as though she was really excited. Then she went and sat down at her desk with a notepad in front of her. “Let’s start with the part of Meg.”

  I was really surprised when only one girl went up, but then I realized that actually it wasn’t all that surprising because Meg is the oldest of the March sisters so most people probably thought Miss Pritchard would cast a Year Nine in that role. The girl auditioning seemed really nervous. Her voice sounded so shaky in the silent hall that Miss Pritchard stopped her right in the middle and said, “Don’t worry, Adelaide. I know it’s terrible being first, but I’ll give you a little tip. Whenever you’re faced with a crowd of people staring at you, just pretend they’re stark naked, then you won’t feel nervous at all!” Immediately everyone cracked up laughing, including Adelaide, and from then on everything felt more relaxed.

  By the time the auditions for Jo, Mrs. March, Aunt March and the grandfather had been done, I was positively tingling with excitement, because I knew I could make my voice come out louder than anyone had done so far, and it was obvious Miss Pritchard had told us about the stage in the theatre being much bigger than this one because she wanted us to speak up. I lost count of the number of times my teachers at primary had got me to demonstrate my great big voice, as they called it, for people who were too quiet. “Georgie can project her voice so well,” they used to say.

  I also secretly thought that no one was putting enough expression into their voice, which made them sound quite flat and boring. I guess Miss Pritchard was thinking the same thing, because quite a few times she remind
ed us to really think hard about how the characters must be feeling and try to put that across as we spoke.

  She made at least one comment after each audition. Sometimes it was about relaxing or not being too stiff or using your eyes, and sometimes it was a word of praise or a suggestion about what your second choice should be. I’d written Aunt March as my second choice on the clipboard sheet, but there wasn’t room for any third choices, which was a bit annoying when I’d taken the trouble to learn Amy, Aunt March and Hannah the housekeeper. I noticed that Cara had written Beth as her second choice, so now I was really hoping that if I did a totally brilliant audition I’d get to be Amy, and maybe she’d be Beth.

  There were four Year Eights auditioning for Beth and I noticed that Cara scarcely bothered to watch them. That must have meant that she wasn’t impressed, even though they were all quite good, I thought. My mouth started to go a bit dry then because I guessed it would be the part of Amy next, so I licked my lips and swallowed once or twice. But then another teacher came into the hall to have a word with Miss Pritchard and while they were talking, all the students started chatting.

  “You were really good last year, Cara,” someone said, which made my ears prick up.

  “Thanks.”

  Cara didn’t actually sound at all grateful for the compliment.

  “What part are you auditioning for this time?” was the next question.

  “Amy.”

  “Well, you certainly look like her!” the girl said, and when I glanced sideways I saw Cara run her fingers through her hair.

  “That’s what my friends keep saying.”

  “Okay, back to business!” Miss Pritchard clapped her hands for silence. “Let’s have anyone who wants to try for the part of Amy next, please.”

  My heart raced as I walked to the front behind Cara’s bobbing blonde curls, and suddenly I felt really scared. From the back, Cara looked so much like the picture on my book that it just seemed obvious she’d get the part.

  When I got to the front I realized that Cara and I were the only two standing there.

  “Cara, we’ll let…sorry…er…what’s your name?”

  “Georgie Henderson.”

  Miss Pritchard gave me a nice bright smile. “We’ll let Georgie go first.”

  I didn’t look at Cara, just went up onto the stage and waited for my cue to start.

  “No script! Excellent!” Miss Pritchard commented, which made me feel very proud as I was only the third person to audition without a script. I’ve always been good at learning lines and I’d managed to memorize the whole speech.

  I took a deep breath and began. As soon as the first words came out of my mouth I felt as though I really was Amy, all confident and a bit stressy. I thought I could feel Miss Pritchard’s eyes on me too, and I hoped she was pleased that I wasn’t acting woodenly. I threw my voice as far as I possibly could to show it wouldn’t get lost in the big theatre. No way could anyone accuse me of not speaking loudly enough for the people in the back row of the audience. When I’d finished I felt on top of the world and saw that Miss Pritchard was smiling, which was a good sign.

  “Thank you, Georgie. You’re certainly excellent at projecting your voice, but the stage is amplified in the new theatre so there’s no need to force it or to overact in any way.”

  I froze. This was terrible. Then I heard the smallest of sniggers, which Miss Pritchard couldn’t possibly have heard from where she was sitting, and when I made the mistake of glancing at Cara I saw she was rolling her eyes at her friends.

  “What did you write down for your second choice, Georgie?” Miss Pritchard carried on brightly.

  A horrible sinking feeling seemed to be dragging my spirits down to my shoes and gluing my feet to the floor.

  “I put Aunt March, but—”

  “Aunt March! That’s interesting. I think I can see why you chose that…”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Aunt March is a particularly popular role it seems. Quite a few Year Nines are interested in it…” She tipped her head on one side. “But, you know, I’m thinking you might be good at the role of Amy’s larger-than-life school friend, Susie Perkins, who’s got a few words at the beginning of the play.”

  I just stared at her. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My sinking feeling disappeared in a flash and I felt absolutely furious. What an insult! Nobody’s ever accused me of overacting or forcing my voice, and I wasn’t interested in the part of Amy’s school friend. I couldn’t even remember that character from the book. I wanted to be Amy herself.

  “I didn’t know the stage in the theatre was going to be amplified,” I said, trying not to sound sulky. “Couldn’t I try the speech again?”

  “I’m sorry, Georgie, there isn’t time. And even with a quieter delivery, you still wouldn’t be quite right for the role. Amy is…certainly exuberant, but in a more subtle, refined way. She has a will of her own but she’s not completely…sure of herself. Have a think about Susie Perkins and write it down if you’d like to be considered for that role, all right?” She smiled brightly and tapped the piece of paper that people had written their second choices on. I was desperate to mention about Hannah being my third choice but she’d clearly finished with me. “Cara, would you like to go up?”

  There was only one set of steps to the stage so Cara and I had to pass each other. I don’t know whether she was looking at me because I stared at the ground. My whole body was trembling, not with disappointment, but with anger. How was I supposed to know that the theatre stage was amplified? I’m not a mind-reader. Why did she tell us about the stage being bigger if she didn’t want us to project our voices? I felt like marching straight out of the hall, but I was too curious about Cara’s acting to leave without seeing it. Her friends were standing not far in front of me and I saw them whisper to each other behind their hands, and then turn round and look at me as though I was pathetic. Huh! How would they like it if I sniggered and smirked during their auditions. Some people are so mean.

  “When you’re ready.” I saw Miss Pritchard sit up straighter and lean forwards.

  I swallowed as Cara began. She didn’t have a script either and the words just seemed to dance out of her mouth without any effort. She was doing a different speech from the one I’d done. It was a bit where Amy was supposed to be practically laughing, and I had to admit it was clever the way Cara got the words out while seeming to laugh at the same time. Even so, it was a bit quiet. I could only just hear her from the back and she didn’t move around very much, just used her shoulders and head and eyes. Then suddenly she’d finished and the hall was filled with clapping. Everyone had burst into applause. Cara pretended to be embarrassed but then she practically skipped down the stairs and rushed over to her friends, who all patted her on the back and gave her hugs and told her how brilliant she was. Miss Pritchard was engrossed in writing on her notepad, so the room was full of chatter again.

  “Phew! Thank goodness that’s over!” said Cara, pretending to be exhausted as she smiled round at everyone. Her eyes caught mine and I saw a little mocking gleam in them.

  “Aren’t you going to change your second choice to Susie Perkins, Georgie? I agree with Miss Pritchard, you’d be good at that.”

  One or two of her friends turned away as though they were trying to hide their amusement, and it suddenly struck me that Cara was being sarcastic. My blood boiled. She didn’t care about my feelings at all. She just wanted to put me down and make me look a fool.

  “No way am I changing my second choice,” I said in a hiss. “Why would I want the stupid Susie Perkins part when I’m easily good enough for Amy? How was I supposed to know that the stage is amplified?” I snapped.

  She glared at me then. “Well no one else got up there and yelled out the words, did they?”

  The fury inside me was bubbling.

  “But if the stage wasn’t amplified, they wouldn’t have been heard at the back.”

  Cara’s face turned into one big sneer then.
“It’s not a pantomime, Georgie. It’s not all about loud voices and great big gestures, you know.” Then she tossed her stupid yellow curls and stalked off.

  So did I. Right out of the building.

  Chapter Four

  All the way back to Hazeldean I talked myself into a red-hot temper. Great big gestures. Huh! What cheek! Cara made me sick. I did not do great big gestures… They were only small… Well okay, quite big, but that’s because you have to exaggerate things on the stage. It’s not like acting in a film. You can’t be subtle or the audience won’t get it. And why weren’t we told before about the stage being amplified? It’s not fair on the Year Sevens. And especially not fair on me. I went to loads of trouble to learn all my lines, and I learned all Aunt March’s and Hannah’s lines, just in case… But Susie Perkins. Susie Perkins! I yanked the script out of my bag to see how many lines Susie Perkins had actually got. Then I rammed it straight back in again because I decided I didn’t care. I knew it was a pathetic little part and there was no way I was going to settle for that. In fact I didn’t want anything more to do with the whole stupid play. Cara Ravenscroft could go and stuff herself and so could Miss Pritchard. More subtle and refined, indeed!

  I crashed through the Hazeldean front door and went to find Mia. I expected her to be in one of the practice rooms but she wasn’t, and it made me even madder that I had to walk all round the stupid boarding house looking for her. Eventually I realized she must be in the dorm. My legs ached by the time I’d climbed the steps to the third floor, where our dorm is, and I felt too angry to speak to anyone. I shoved open the door and scarcely looked to left or right, just catching glimpses of Mia, Grace and Jess at their desks. Then I climbed up to my bed and flopped onto it, closing my eyes.

  For a few seconds there wasn’t a sound and I suddenly thought that maybe I’d imagined seeing Mia and the other two. Perhaps I was so mad with anger that I’d turned properly mad and I was seeing ghosts. But a second later Mia coughed.