Superstar!

by Jane Smith

  Where are we? Carly wondered. They were outside – that much was clear. They stood on a path that cut through a neat, tree-lined lawn. Clouds were gathering and a cool breeze stirred the bushes. Carly shivered – whether from the cold or from her recent near-accident, she could not tell.

  ‘Girls!’ Ms Carrigan appeared from around the bend, her hair and eyes wild. The rest of the choir trailed behind her. ‘There you are! I couldn’t find you anywhere after the concert. You should not have wandered off alone!’

  ‘Sorry,’ Carly said.

  ‘Oh well, never mind. You’re here now. Right, let’s not waste any more time. Come on – this way!’

  She beckoned them along the path and they followed.

  Carly turned to Dora. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I think we’re still in the same gardens,’ Dora said, pointing ahead. ‘See?’

  Carly looked to where Dora was pointing. She saw a little white rotunda with a domed roof: the same rotunda they had sat in about 140 or so years ago.

  Simone slunk up beside them. ‘Why did you leave?’ she sulked. ‘We were having fun for once.’

  ‘We couldn’t help it,’ Carly said. ‘Our shawls blew off when the bus swerved. Probably a good thing, too – pretty sure we were just about to crash.’

  ‘We wouldn’t have crashed,’ Simone

  grumbled. ‘Nellie knew how to drive that thing.’

  ‘Well, you didn’t have to come back with us,’ Dora pointed out. ‘You could have stayed ...’

  Simone pouted. ‘By myself? That wouldn’t have been any fun at all.’

  Carly and Dora raised their eyebrows at each other. They would never understand Simone. Does she like us or not? Carly wondered. On one hand, she was always calling them idiots or babies – but on the other, sometimes it seemed she wanted to be friends. What a strange girl!

  ‘... and here,’ Ms Carrigan was saying, ‘... is a flame tree. Look at its glorious foliage!’

  Dora’s eyes lit up. ‘Beautiful!’ she said.

  Carly sighed.

  Simone groaned. ‘Oh boy,’ she said sarcastically, ‘this is gonna be fun.’

  For once, Carly had to agree with Simone. But she brightened up when Ms Carrigan ushered them out onto the street and promised to buy them ice creams at a café.

  As they strolled out of the gardens and onto the footpath, Ms Carrigan said, ‘Do you know that there used to be a girls’ school across the road there? And one of the first students at that school was the wonderful opera singer we know as Dame Nellie Melba!’

  Simone bared her teeth at Carly and Dora in triumph. ‘See!’ she hissed. ‘I told you it was her!’

  Dora nodded. ‘Can we go back again?’ she whispered.

  ‘Okay,’ Carly replied slowly. ‘But ice creams first?’

  ‘Of course!’ Dora said, and they linked arms and marched to the café.

  CHAPTER 8

  They didn’t get a chance to return to the past that day. After the ice creams, Ms Carrigan took the whole choir to the museum. Then they went op-shopping and Dora bought herself some floral skirts and spotted shirts, and then Simone insisted on visiting the State Library. Carly had hoped to go to the zoo, but they ran out of time. By the time they got back to the hotel at the end of the day, the girls were too tired to think about seeing Nellie Mitchell.

  ‘She’s too exhausting!’ Dora said. ‘Let’s wait until tomorrow, when we’ve got our energy back.’

  Carly agreed. So they went to their hotel room, which they were sharing with a couple of other girls from the choir, and slept soundly until morning.

  When they got up, Melbourne was grey and drizzly.

  ‘It’s so cold and damp out there,’ Ms Carrigan said as they ate breakfast in the hotel’s dining room. ‘Perfect day to visit an art gallery and drink hot chocolate in a café.’

  But Carly had other ideas. ‘Do you want to go back to see Nellie again?’ she whispered to Dora.

  Dora looked out at the rain, her eyes enormous behind her glasses. ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Like Ms Carrigan said ... it’s damp out there. And gloomy. I don’t have a good feeling about this ...’

  Carly’s head drooped in disappointment.

  ‘And what about Simone?’ Dora whispered, nodding at Simone, who stood in the doorway. Carly noticed that she was clutching her piece of lace ribbon. ‘I don’t feel like bringing her along, but we can’t really go without her.’

  Carly bit her lip and blushed, feeling guilty. She had hoped to go back without Simone – she was tired of all Simone’s whingeing – but it did seem mean to leave her behind.

  Simone wandered over to their table and plunked herself into the chair beside Carly’s. ‘Well then?’ she said. ‘Are we going back, or what?’

  Dora sighed. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘You two win. Let’s go.’

  Then Dora and Carly took their shawls from their bags, and waited for Simone to wrap the ribbon about her neck, and as she tied the bow, they flung the shawls around their shoulders and spun back into the past.

  CHAPTER 9

  The first sound they heard was a baby’s crying. The girls looked at each other in confusion. A baby?

  ‘I wonder what this place is?’ Dora said, strolling across the grass. They were in a small garden out the front of a large, square, brick building. The crying was coming from the other side of an open window.

  The girls crept closer.

  ‘You will NOT!’ a man’s voice boomed through the window, startling the eavesdroppers.

  ‘Oh yes, I WILL!’ came a shrill voice in reply.

  ‘That’s Nellie!’ Carly whispered, and Dora nodded.

  ‘No wife of mine is going to make a living by prancing about on a stage!’

  ‘I’ll do exactly as I please! I’ll make more than a living; I’ll make a fortune, and I won’t share a penny of it with you!’

  ‘You wouldn’t DARE!’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare STOP ME!’

  The baby’s screams grew louder, and then a stuffed toy flew through the window and knocked Dora’s glasses off. She dropped to her knees and fumbled about in the grass, looking for them.

  ‘Here,’ said Simone, picking up the wireframed glasses and handing them to Dora.

  ‘Thanks—’ Dora started to say, just as Simone cut in with, ‘Uggh, those things are so ugly.’

  At that moment, the front door flew open and a man stormed out.

  ‘Who are you?’ he barked when he saw the three startled girls on the lawn. The man was athletic-looking, with brown hair parted in the centre and a big moustache. He glared them with angry eyes. ‘And what are you doing here?’

  ‘We’re friends of Nellie Melb—Mitchell’s,’ Carly said proudly, holding herself straight and planting hands on her hips. ‘Is this her home?’

  ‘Her name is Nellie Armstrong now,’ the man snapped. ‘She’s my wife. And no – this is not her home; it’s her father’s place. Go inside, if

  you want – she’s in there. She’s all yours. You’re welcome to her.’

  He spun around and stormed off.

  ‘Maybe this is not a good time ...’ Dora began, but Carly shook her head.

  ‘If she’s in trouble, she might need company.’

  Carly pushed the door open and made her way into the hallway. With Dora and Simone close behind, she followed the sound of the baby’s cries to a room with an open door. They slipped inside. Nellie was there, cradling the child in her arms and humming a lullaby. Her face was blotched with anger. When she saw the girls, her eyes widened in surprise. She brushed a tear from her cheek.

  ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Did you hear that racket?’

  ‘Yes,’ Carly replied. ‘Are you all right?’

  The baby had stopped crying and Nellie settled him into his cot. ‘Oh, I’ll be all right,’ she said. ‘Did you meet my husband?’

  Dora nodded.

  ‘Where on earth did you find that brute?’ Simone asked.

  Nellie smiled sa
dly. ‘He’s not so bad. I met him in Mackay; I went there with my father a few years ago after my mother died. We fell in love and got married ... and then I had my darling little George ...’ she gazed fondly at the sleeping child. ‘Charlie’s all right. But he and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things.’

  ‘He can’t stop you from being an opera singer,’ Simone insisted, clenching her fists. ‘He can’t.’

  ‘It’s not just Charlie,’ Nellie said bitterly. ‘It’s my father too. He says it’s not respectable for a lady to make a living out of being on the stage. Honestly, you’d think that by 1886, people would have grown out of that silly idea.’

  1886, thought Carly. Such a long time ago! Luckily, some things have changed.

  Nellie went on. ‘So my father won’t let me be a professional singer. He won’t pay for my singing lessons.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Simone said. ‘You’ve only got the best singing voice in the whole world!’

  ‘You’re very kind,’ Nellie replied with a smile. ‘Pietro Cecchi thinks I have potential.’

  ‘Who’s he?’ Dora asked.

  ‘He’s my singing teacher,’ Nellie said. ‘He’s still teaching me, even though my father refuses to pay.’ She stamped her foot. ‘I will have a singing career, one way or another. No matter what. I won’t let anyone stop me!’

  At that moment, a man’s voice could be heard, shouting, ‘Nellie!’

  Carly jumped, thinking that Nellie’s husband was returning. But she soon realised it wasn’t Charlie when a much older man in a three-piece suit strode into the room. He looked familiar. When he looked Carly in the eye, she remembered. The last time she had seen this man, he had been hopping about the room in a fury after his daughter had blown air from the bellows up his trouser leg!

  ‘This is my father,’ Nellie said, and introduced Carly and her friends. Mr Mitchell nodded his greetings, then turned to Nellie with a frown.

  ‘I ran into Charlie out there,’ he said. ‘He wants you to go back to Mackay with him and forget about this opera business.’

  ‘I am NOT going back to Mackay!’ Nellie shouted. ‘I am going to Europe with YOU and I am going to become an opera singer!’ Then she turned to the girls and said, in a trembling voice, ‘My father has the chance to travel to Europe, but he won’t take me with him! The audiences in Melbourne and Sydney love me, but I can’t reach my true potential until I have lessons from the best teachers in the world. I’ll never become famous until I’ve performed in Europe!’

  Then she snatched up a piece of paper from a table and waved it at her father. ‘Even Pietro Cecchi thinks that one day I could be a great star!’

  ‘It’s not ladylike—’ Mr Mitchell began, but Dora cut in.

  ‘That’s nuts!’ she cried.

  ‘Mr Mitchell,’ Carly said quickly, seeing that Nellie’s father was turning purple with rage at Dora’s outburst. ‘What Dora means is that your daughter’s voice is a special gift. Think of the joy it could bring to the world!’

  Simone screwed up her nose and muttered, ‘What a cheesy speech.’

  The others ignored her.

  ‘Please, father,’ Nellie begged.

  Mr Mitchell sighed, sat and put his head in his hands. ‘You can come on one condition.’

  ‘Anything!’

  ‘Charlie comes too. You and Charlie must try to patch up your marriage.’

  Nellie frowned. ‘All right,’ she said at last. Then her frown softened and she wrapped her arms around her father. ‘I know you don’t like it, and I’m sorry to cause you so much worry. But you’ll see: it will be worth it! One day, people all around the world will know my name, and I’ll make Australia proud. And other young women will look up to me and know that if I can do it, they can do it too. One day, young women won’t have to go overseas to make it on the stage like I’m doing. And they’ll be proud of what they do – they’ll know that this ‘Unladylike” business is nonsense’

  Nellie stood on her toes and kissed her father’s cheek. ‘I’ll make you proud – you’ll see.’ Then she turned to Carly and grasped her hands. ‘I’m going to Europe! I’m going to become a star of the opera!’

  Then she laughed and spun Carly around, and the shawl slipped off Carly’s shoulders, and the darkness came down again.

  CHAPTER 10

  When Carly’s vision cleared, she found herself back at the hotel with Dora, Simone, Ms Carrigan and the rest of the choir. Ms Carrigan was on her phone.

  ‘Well, that was weird,’ Carly whispered. ‘I think I just persuaded Nellie Melba’s father to let her go to Europe. I think I might be responsible for the success of her whole singing career.

  Dora laughed and Simone snorted. ‘In your dreams,’ she said.

  ‘Thanks for coming back with me,’ Carly whispered to Dora.

  Dora smiled. ‘We have to stick together in these adventures,’ she said, and rolled her eyes. ‘Even with Simone.’

  Ms Carrigan put her phone back in her handbag. ‘Change of plan,’ she said. ‘Some tickets have been released for the opera. We’re going to see La bohème. ’

  Carly groaned. ‘Can’t we go to the zoo?’

  ‘Not in this weather,’ Ms Carrigan snapped. ‘And don’t you dare complain!’

  Carly didn’t dare. They gathered up their bags and filed out of the dining room onto the street to catch a bus. They trundled through the streets to the concert hall and then lined up in the foyer as they waited to take their seats. As she gazed around at the theatre, with its plush carpets and chandeliers, Carly wondered

  what the opera might have been like in Nellie Melba’s day.

  Dora was clearly wondering the same thing. She stood on tiptoes to whisper in Carly’s ear. ‘Should we go back one more time?’

  Carly nodded and tapped Simone on the shoulder. ‘Are you coming?’

  ‘Of course,’ Simone whispered back.

  ‘Okay,’ said Carly. She waited until Ms Carrigan’s back was turned before whipping the shawl out of her bag. ‘Ready? One, two, three ...’

  CHAPTER 11

  ‘Ouch!’ cried Carly.

  She was in the middle of a huge crowd and someone had stepped on her foot.

  ‘Move along!’ a woman behind her snapped, elbowing Carly aside as she shoved past.

  Carly clutched her shawl; it would be terrible to lose it in this sea of people before she even had a chance to find out what was going on. Dora gripped Carly’s arm. Dora was wearing a frilly cream-coloured ball gown, and her hair was doing its best to escape from a loose, frizzy bun. Carly grinned down at the comical sight. Simone was on

  the other side of Dora, barging through the crowd with a fierce frown. Simone was also wearing a ball gown and looking very uncomfortable.

  Carly looked around as the mob swept her along. They were inside a large hall filled with people in ball dresses and black suits with bow ties. Crystal chandeliers hung from an arched ceiling. The floor was crammed with thousands of chairs facing the stage. At the back and both sides of the hall, there was another level of seating high up on a balcony.

  ‘What is this place?’ Carly shouted in Dora’s ear.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Dora replied, ‘but it’s beautiful.’

  ‘There are some empty seats,’ Simone said, pointing to a row at the back of the hall. ‘Come on, let’s grab them.’

  The girls squeezed through the crowd and inched along the row to the empty seats.

  ‘Phew!’ said Dora as she plopped into the chair next to Carly’s. ‘That was hard work – so many people!’

  ‘Sshh!’ hissed a man behind her. ‘Madame Melba will be here soon.’

  Carly and Dora glanced at each other. Dora’s eyes twinkled. Madame Melba!

  ‘Excuse me,’ Carly whispered to the lady on her right. ‘May I please borrow your program?’

  The lady smiled and handed a folded paper to her. ‘Isn’t it a thrill?’ she said. ‘To have Nellie Melba back in Australia at last?’

  Carly took
the program and leaned across to share it with Dora and Simone.

  ‘TOWN HALL, MELBOURNE,’ the program said. ‘First Concert, Saturday, Sept. 27th, 1902.’

  ‘1902!’ Dora whispered. Almost twenty years must have passed since they last saw Nellie Mitchell ... or Nellie Melba, as she called herself now.

  The lights dimmed and a hush fell upon the crowd. Then the clapping began: just a few claps here and there at first, but quickly spreading through the hall. And then she appeared on the stage: Nellie Melba! Carly held her breath.

  Beside her, Dora gasped. ‘Beautiful!’ she murmured.

  Nellie looked like a movie star: proud, graceful and glittering. Her dress was cream and lacy, and shot with gold sequins. A heavy strand of pearls hung around her neck. Her hair was fastened low on her neck with a diamond clasp. Nellie swept across the stage and curtseyed to someone in the front row.

  ‘Who’s she curtseying to?’ Carly asked the friendly lady on her right.

  ‘That’s the Governor-General,’ the lady whispered back.

  ‘Wow,’ said Carly. ‘She really is famous.’

  ‘Oh yes, dear,’ the lady replied. ‘We’re so lucky to have her back! All these years, she’s been charming opera lovers all around Europe and America – who ever would have thought she’d finally come back to Australia!’

  At that moment, the crowd went crazy. People stood and cheered and thundered with applause – on and on and on!

  ‘I never imagined the opera would have been like this in the olden days!’ Carly said to Dora. ‘She’s like a rock star!’

  Dora cupped a hand around her ear; she couldn’t hear a word over the cheering of the crowd.

  At last, the pianist struck a note, and Nellie began to sing. Her voice was high and strong and fluid; it was so beautiful that Carly wanted to stop breathing so she could just concentrate on listening.