‘Sure will,’ said Billie. ‘But I wouldn’t get too stressed out about that. Even if you’re not the best, as long as they see you’re giving it a red hot go it should be fine.’
‘Maybe I could do a tap class with you?’ I blurted. ‘Before the auditions. You know, the one Paige is in? Just to see if I’ll go all right? I don’t want to be good at everything else and be let down by lousy tapping.’
Billie gave a big, throaty laugh like it had blossomed right out of her heart. ‘We couldn’t have that,’ she said. ‘Yes, come along to the next tap class. Do you need to check with your parents first?’
‘It’ll be fine,’ I said quickly.
Even if it wasn’t, I would make it fine. I had to do the tap class. My musical theatre career depended on it!
‘Okay, honeybee,’ said Billie. ‘We’ll see you with taps on Thursday.’
I gave her a big confident smile, thanked her and then ran off, feeling like jellybeans were jumping around in my body.
As I passed by the noticeboard I thought about keeping the poster so no one else would see it and audition. My chances of getting in would be so much better. But at the last minute I quickly pinned it back up. If I got in, I wanted to earn my place.
It was time to start step-toe-heeling again.
Chapter Five
Heel, heel, heel, heel.
Toe, toe, toe, toe.
Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle.
Slap ball change, slap ball change, slap ball change, slap ball change.
‘I think I’ve got it,’ I whispered to the back of Paige’s head.
She turned around at the barre and gave me a quick smile before switching to do all the steps on her left. ‘Unfortunately it gets a little harder than this,’ she whispered.
‘What?’ I said, because the sound of twenty kids tapping can get pretty loud.
‘It gets harder than this,’ she repeated, louder. ‘But you’re a natural, Ellie, you’ll be fine.’
So far I was breezing through my trial tap class. I was lined up with other kids, doing warm-ups in unison. What a terrific sound! It made me remember 42nd Street, and I got so excited that I mucked up the timing on my steps.
Focus, Ellie, I told myself. You’re here to learn and to see how quickly you can master this tap thing. You can dream of fame and fortune later.
Lucky I did focus, because things got harder pretty much straight away. Next we faced the barre and Billie yelled out, ‘Pick ups!’.
A double pick up was a step where you had to brush back with both feet and land on the balls of your feet. Then Billie had us do trenches – where it took everything I had not to fall forward onto my face – and then wings, which was one of the most uncoordinated experiences of my life.
As if that wasn’t enough, then we went around the room doing them all individually so Billie could listen to what kinds of sounds we were making.
I started to feel hot. For once, I didn’t want the spotlight to be on me.
‘Ellie,’ said Paige, giving my hand a squeeze. ‘You might be thinking too much about it. When I first started learning tap I used to just focus on the sounds the different steps make, and let my feet copy them. Sometimes if you get caught up in stuff like what this leg is doing and where that foot is supposed to go, you mess yourself up. You have a really good understanding of rhythm, so maybe focusing on the sound is what you should do.’
I thought about that. I closed my eyes and listened to the beats of the taps: how some brushed, some scraped, some were solid thunks, and some were very light and brisk. Then I opened my eyes and watched how everyone’s feet struck the floor, and what sounds were made when they did.
I squeezed Paige’s hand back. ‘Thanks,’ I said to her.
Still, as the line rolled round to me, I felt the pressure to get it right building. It was like waiting to be pelted in the face with rotten fruit.
Don’t think about it too much, I repeated silently to myself. Just do it, and see what happens.
My turn.
Two sounds, my mind chanted. A wing is two sounds. Out in, out in, scrape tap, scrape tap; out in, out in, scrape tap, scrape tap.
Over and over in my head I said it until eventually my feet came into rhythm with my words, and I was doing it without thinking. No, the sound wasn’t as crisp as Paige’s steps, which came right after mine, but they were still there!
I began to feel that, maybe, this wouldn’t be so impossible after all.
My feelings and confidence got stronger when we had to do shuffle-toe-heel turns across the room. I caught sight of myself in the mirror, turning and tapping like I’d been doing it for ages. My imagination put a top hat on my head, shiny black tap shoes with pink bows on my feet, and a tailcoat costume that glittered and caught the light as I spun.
I could do it. Tonight I would get Mum to ring the number on the flyer and book me an audition. And if I didn’t get in, at least I’d know I tried.
But I really wanted to get in. And not just in the chorus. The starring role! I wanted to be Jane, who is one of the children Mary Poppins comes to look after.
I was so busy dreaming about this that I came out of a turn and ran into the girl in front of me.
‘Sorry, Violet,’ I muttered.
‘That’s what you spot for,’ sassed Violet, but before I could give her a lashing of the Ellie attitude, Paige appeared at my side. Her blonde curls, angelic face and baby-powder smell straight away calmed me down.
‘Killing it.’ Paige grinned at me. ‘Who knows, maybe one day we’ll be doing tap duos together?’
‘Maybe.’ I laughed.
But in my mind, I was already beyond tap duos. I was the tapping queen of Broadway.
Only an audition stood in my way.
Chapter Six
Nibble, nibble, nibble.
Stop that.
A big chip of nail polish came off my nails, which I’d painted pink especially for the occasion.
The occasion being the audition, of course.
I’d booked it!
And now I was here!
I’d filled out my form and handed it in. (I may have lied about how much experience I had, but who doesn’t? You don’t get a leading role by being a nobody.) Now I was waiting for the group audition, where we would learn a short tap sequence and a musical theatre number, which we would then perform for the director and the two choreographers of the shows (Billie and the tap teacher).
The auditions were being held at a function centre in the city, but the actual rehearsals would be held at Silver Shoes. I took that as a good omen. To make myself feel less nervous, I imagined I really was going to audition for a big Broadway show in the 1920s.
There I went, walking down an alley to the building’s side entrance, in a coat with a fur collar and a pretty hat with my pin curls poking out. When the porter held the door open for me I would say, ‘Why, thank you, sir’ and ‘Oh golly, well, I never’ and give him a sweet look with my big long lashes that fluttered like butterfly kisses whenever I blinked or closed my eyes.
My legs were starting to twitch nervously, so I got out of my seat and walked around the foyer, checking everyone out. Kids younger than me were there, as well as adults as old as my grandpa.
Most of them chatted to each other and seemed very comfortable. I told myself not to be scared, but I didn’t see anyone I knew, except for a couple of faces I recognised from competitions. Oh, and Violet from tap class. But I sure wasn’t going to talk to her.
Plus, I wanted to be by myself. To prepare. I could see people warming up and going through tap steps, but I felt very out of place and unlike my confident self at Silver Shoes.
I found a corridor running off the foyer and made sure it was empty. Then I shuffled my feet, going through tap steps that I thought might be used in the audition. I wanted it fresh in my memory.
‘Beauuu-tiful mooorrrr-orrrr-orrrr-orrrrorniiiiing,’ came a voice from around the corner.
I poked my head around the
wall to see who was singing.
It was a girl about my age, with fabulous burgundy-coloured hair, a small pointed nose and a large red mouth.
Well, maybe her mouth only looked large because she was singing in a very exaggerated way.
‘Oh, hello,’ she said. ‘Sorry, did I disturb you? I’m just warming up.’
‘No, that’s okay,’ I said.
‘My name’s Cadence Kohdean.’ She flashed me a big smile that took up most of her face.
‘Ellie,’ I said, backing away from her teeth.
‘I know the singing isn’t till after,’ Cadence explained, ‘but vocal warm-ups help me get in the audition zone.’
‘You have a nice voice,’ I said, although my mind secretly added, but mine is better.
‘Gosh, thank you,’ said Cadence. ‘I’ve been singing since I was two. This will be the third main role I’ve auditioned for. Last year I played the lead character in Annie and one of the von Trapp children in The Sound of Music. What parts have you played?’
‘Um …’ I fumbled, pushing my long ponytail off my shoulder. I couldn’t make up something quick enough. ‘I played Ariel in The Little Mermaid,’ I finally said, which was a lie, unless you count a ten-minute performance of ‘Under the Sea’ in kindergarten. ‘Usually I just go for the chorus. You get to do all the cool dances that way. Dancing is really my thing.’
‘Yes! You totally look like a dancer,’ said Cadence, in a tone of voice that made it hard to tell if she was giving me a compliment or not. ‘I’m more of a singer. I’ve sung in front of the Prime Minister with the Youth Voices Choir, and also I’ve sung on a children’s education CD. It was to learn your times tables.’
‘You must be busy,’ I said, taking another step away, because she had come right up to me. ‘So you’re going for the part of Jane?’
‘Oh yes,’ said Cadence. ‘I think it will be great for my repertoire.’
I wasn’t really sure what a repertoire was, but I knew straight away that this Cadence Kohdean was my main competition.
You can beat her, Ellie, I said to myself, but suddenly I really wanted Paige and Riley and Ash here with me. I always felt one hundred times more confident when they were around.
The stage manager called out that they were ready to begin the auditions, and for everyone to make their way to the stage.
‘Here we go,’ sang Cadence, with a dazzly little tap step that my eyes couldn’t even keep up with, much less my feet. ‘Good luck!’
‘Thanks,’ I said, following after her swinging ponytail. ‘You too.’
But I wasn’t sure if I meant it.
Chapter Seven
Snakes, spiders, sand in your bathers, being dobbed on for something that wasn’t your fault, maths tests, jelly snakes not coming in pink. All these things are horrible, but none give me the throat-swelling, stomach-clenching, shaky fingers and brain-muddling that auditions do.
The only person I know who hates auditions more than me is Paige. I just don’t think it’s fair that everything you’ve worked and studied for can come down to a five-minute audition. I bet if I had to hand in a video montage of all my best performances instead of doing an audition, I would get the part each time.
For the Mary Poppins auditions, we started off learning the jazz-based musical theatre dance, which Billie was in charge of. Having Billie there made me feel a little more at home and took some of the tightness out of my shoulders.
She began by getting us to do some floor work: turns, kicks, travelling steps. I had to smother a giggle when the adults tried some of them. I’ve seen better performances from an emu.
Next, Billie taught us a routine so that she could get an idea of everyone’s dance ability.
The choreography was fairly simple with a four-count beat. I could have done it in my sleep, but I still made sure I was at the front, and on my best Ellie-is-a-good-student behaviour. Because I found the routine so easy I tried to up my energy and flair. The simplicity of the dance sequence also gave me a good chance to watch everyone else and suss out the competition, especially Cadence. Sure, she got all the steps, but she wasn’t that great.
Billie let the adults sit down after that, because next she had choreographed a piece to teach the kids who wanted to be in the main dance troupe. The adults who didn’t get a main part would be in the chorus, singing and doing all the background stuff, while the main dance troupe would be front and centre, doing the bulk of the choreography.
This musical theatre routine was more complicated, with some turns and jumps and showy steps. I nailed it, of course, and I felt a beam of pride when I saw Cadence watching me.
Billie also got us to do a short contemporary sequence.
‘Mary Poppins has room for many styles of dance,’ she called out after we were all done and standing around with our hands on our knees, catching our breaths. ‘So we’ll be doing some jazzy, musical-theatre based pieces, as well as more lyrical pieces to the slower songs. And then, of course, good ol’ tap.’
At this a lot of people cheered, and I felt my stomach sink. I casually moved back to the second row so I would have someone to copy from if worse came to worst, even if that someone was Cadence, who I noticed pushed her way to the front almost immediately.
Billie made a fake sad face and clutched her chest. ‘And this is where I will now leave you, my lovelies – and pass the baton to tap extraordinaire Damon Periwinkle.’
Damon who? I covered my laugh with my hand and looked around to see if anyone else found it funny. No one. They were all staring at Mr Periwinkle with pleasant faces. I rolled my eyes. Ash, Riley and Paige would have shared my secret smile.
Periwinkle jumped to his feet when Billie called out his name. He was at least sixty, with long lanky legs, but he moved with so much grace, effortlessly jumping over some chairs that were in his way, swinging himself around a pot plant, and tapping his way to the front.
He had thick black hair brushed back neatly and the darkest, twinkliest eyes turned up at the edges with crinkles. His mouth looked as if he was always in the middle of sharing a joke with you.
Despite his silly name, I liked him straight away. He reminded me of an old movie star, and I imagined that when he was on stage you couldn’t take your eyes off him.
‘Welcome, my hoofers,’ he said with a very British accent, bowing to us theatrically. ‘I’ve been watching all of you dance your little hearts out. Now it’s time for you to watch me. Who wants to do some tapping?’
‘Me!’ trilled Cadence.
‘Not me!’ I muttered under my breath.
‘Who said “not me”?’ Periwinkle asked, whirling around and searching us all with mock anger.
I tried to stare pointedly at Cadence to make it seem like she’d said it, but I could feel my face going red. I had to call on all my acting training to not give myself away.
‘Well, whoever said that, I’ll make you regret it,’ Periwinkle teased. ‘What’s the first rule of Broadway?’
‘Always be ready,’ Cadence said.
‘You got it, honey,’ he said with a wink. ‘Let’s tap.’
Never in my life had I heard that ‘Always Be Ready’ was the first rule of Broadway. Cadence probably paid him five dollars so he could say that and she would answer to look good.
I set my jaw. Too bad, Cadence Kohdean. It took more than that to put me off.
Chapter Eight
The first thing I noticed was that although Cadence had been just okay in the other dances, tap was obviously her style. Every sound she made was crisp and clean, and all her movements expressive. She seemed to know what tap step we were going to do, even before Periwinkle had shown it to us.
I kept my competition antennae out. There were some good tappers, but I knew by far I’d been the best in the other dances. So the role of Jane could very well come down to me and Cadence. That’s if she hadn’t bribed the director, too.
No! I would fight for the part of Jane. I focused on Periwinkle’s feet, mimicki
ng his every ball dig, back brush and ball change.
He started teaching us a short routine. His style of tap was very fluid – it wasn’t the straight-spine-arms-do-very-little kind of tap. Instead, all the tap steps flowed into beautiful body shapes and energetic kicks or jumps, taking up every inch of available floor space.
I took a lot of joy in trying to copy Periwinkle’s athletic moves and the feeling of lightness his body created. My feet let me down a little when it came to catching and hitting all the tap sounds. A few times I just made something up and hoped it sounded okay because the feet totally lost me.
Cadence, of course, didn’t put one shiny black tap wrong. But I didn’t mind. I felt a sense of achievement that a week ago I hadn’t tapped properly since I was a tiny, and now I’d just successfully completed a tap audition. The idea that I could make music with my feet was a bit of a thrill!
But I still had the singing audition tomorrow. One more test to pass before I was crowned an official triple threat.
I was feeling quite good when I walked into the foyer the next day, ready to sing my heart out.
Ugh.
You’ll never guess who was waiting before me.
Cadence Kohdean.
Today her long burgundy hair was pulled into two braids and she was wearing a pretty white smock dress with little black booties. She looked like Jane without even trying. I was just wearing my favourite pink floaty top and my good luck silver leggings.
‘Oh hey!’ she said. ‘Ellie, right?’
‘Right,’ I said.
‘I must be auditioning before you,’ said Cadence, like it wasn’t already obvious. ‘How exciting! What are you singing?’
‘“The Perfect Nanny”,’ I said, naming a song from Mary Poppins.
‘Oh, that’s nice,’ said Cadence. ‘I’m doing “Green Finch and Linnet Bird” from Sweeney Todd. I feel it really shows my range. Plus it’s not always a good idea to do a song from the show you’re actually auditioning for.’ She smiled at me. ‘But I’m sure they won’t mind.’
Broadway Baby Page 2