by Jane Lawes
Tara sat on the sofa. She’d missed most of the interview – the gymnasts were now going over to a floor area that had been specially set out for them. Loud, dramatic music started up and the gymnasts began a spectacular routine. It was like nothing Tara had ever seen before – instead of performing individually, the gymnasts worked in pairs and groups of three and four, lifting each other up into high balances, and throwing the tiniest girls and boys into the air, where they somersaulted round and round before they were caught again by the taller gymnasts on the floor. It was incredible! Anna had said they were like Tara, but she knew she would never be able to do any of those things, not if she trained for a million years. The routine was over too quickly for Tara. She made a mental note to find it on the internet later. Then she could replay it again and again until she knew it by heart.
“That’s all we’ve got time for this morning,” said the presenter with a grin, while the gymnasts smiled and caught their breath in the background. “Good luck in the competition, guys!” He turned to the gymnasts and gave them a big thumbs up, and then the show was over. Tara was still staring at the TV, but she didn’t see the adverts that were now playing. In her head, she was watching the gymnasts’ routine again, trying to remember everything they’d done. It made her even more determined to keep practising. She glanced out of the window and then slumped back onto the sofa immediately – she’d been so caught up in the gymnastics on TV that she hadn’t even noticed raindrops streaking down the windows. There would be no gymnastics in the garden today.
After breakfast, she went up to her room and got dressed. What could she do now? she wondered, sitting on her bed. She was itching to start working on her routine for the show with Kate and Emily – she’d chosen some music the night before and she could already see the routine taking shape in her head. But there wasn’t space in her bedroom to work out a whole routine. At least she could work on her backward walkovers – that was just as important as making up the routine itself.
She tried to be quiet, but it really was impossible. Every time she tried to get all the way over, her legs came crashing down to the floor again. Dad was reading the newspaper downstairs and she knew he’d be getting annoyed – but this was important. She decided she’d just have five more tries, and then she’d give up for the day… And that was when it happened. She stood neatly, bent backwards and lifted her leg, pushed off the floor with her other foot, and smoothly brought her legs over to land behind her hands. She’d done it!
“YES!” she yelled. She jumped up in the air with her fists raised in triumph.
There was thunder on the stairs.
“What is going on in here?” shouted Dad, pushing Tara’s bedroom door open. “It sounds like you’ve got a herd of elephants thumping around.”
“Sorry,” Tara replied. She tried to look apologetic, but she couldn’t stop smiling. She’d finally done a real backward walkover!
“You’ve got the garden for gymnastics,” said Dad. “You don’t need to do it in here as well.”
“But it’s raining,” Tara protested.
Dad opened his mouth and then stopped. He was thinking about something. “Come downstairs,” he said at last. “I’ve got something to show you.”
Tara followed him down the stairs and into the living room. He picked something up from the little table in the corner.
“I got this for you this morning,” he said. He handed her a pale blue leaflet with a drawing of a gymnast at the top. “Thought you might be interested.”
Tara looked at Dad for a moment before glancing down at the leaflet in her hand. Her eyes widened as she read the front page. Under the gymnast it said Silverdale Gymnastics Club, and below that, Summer Gymnastics Camp. She’d known about Silverdale almost her whole life. Every year, as part of the town summer fête, she and her friends went to Silverdale to watch the gym club’s Summer Display. It was always the highlight of the day for Tara; gymnasts of all ages and abilities performed routines for the town. Some of them were amazing, while some were groups of beginners – girls and boys like her. She had spent hours and hours daydreaming about being a Silverdale gymnast.
“How about it?” Dad asked with a grin.
“Can I go?” Tara whispered. “Please?”
“I think you’ll have to,” said Dad. “It’s the only way I’ll ever get any peace.”
Tara looked at the leaflet again. The camp was only for a week, but that was better than nothing. She threw her arms around Dad. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she chanted.
A real gymnastics club! This was going to be the best summer of her life.
Chapter Four
Tara could think about nothing else that day. She kept asking Mum if she’d phoned Silverdale yet to book a place on the camp. Mum finally called the club later that afternoon and Tara hung around, listening to the conversation. She was worried that it would be booked up already. Luckily, there was a space left for her, and she immediately wrote GYM CAMP on her calendar in pink pen. It was on Monday!
The next day, Mum took Tara and Anna shopping. Tara glanced in the window of the dance shop as they walked past. The shop was full of shoes for different types of dancing, and rails of bright and glittery leotards ran all around the walls. They sold gymnastics leotards too, which was why Tara always stared longingly at the window display. It had changed since she’d last seen it. As well as the usual pyramid of ballet shoes, there was a mannequin wearing a purple velvety leotard with silver sparkles on the shoulders. It was sleeveless and, with one arm stretched up, the mannequin looked like a perfect gymnast.
“Can we go in here?” Tara asked.
Mum looked at her watch. “Okay,” she agreed. “But just a quick look. We still need to get you both some new trainers. I don’t know what you do to them, but your old ones are falling apart!”
Playing netball and rounders and running round the playing field had caused that, thought Tara. If they did gymnastics all year at school, it would always be bare feet and no one’s trainers would get ruined.
Tara hurried into the shop, with Mum and Anna following behind.
“Good morning,” said the shop assistant with a smile. “Can I help you with anything?”
“No thanks,” Mum said firmly. “We’re just having a look.”
Tara wandered slowly around the room. She found the rail of gymnastics leotards and ran her fingers slowly over the soft velvet and silky lycra. She was starting the summer camp at Silverdale Gym Club tomorrow. She was going to need a leotard to wear. There was every colour she could think of here; some were long sleeved and some had no sleeves, like the one in the window. There were leotards with sparkly bits, ones with lots of different colours, and loads with patterns on. How would she ever be able to choose? Right in the middle of the rail was a black leotard. It was surrounded by so many bright colours and patterns that she almost didn’t notice it. She pulled it out to see if it was just plain black, and discovered that tiny silver sparkles twisted in a fluttering ribbon shape from one shoulder all the way down to the opposite hip. She took it down from the rail and held it up in front of her. The sparkles looked like stars on a dark night. It was beautiful – a real medal-winning leotard. And it was even the right size.
“This is boring,” Anna moaned. “You said we could go to The Disney Store.”
“In a minute, Anna,” said Mum. “Come on, Tara. We’ve got to get home soon.”
“Mum, can I get a leotard for gym?” Tara asked, eagerly turning to Mum and showing her the black and silver one.
Mum sighed. “Not today,” she said. “You’re only going for a week.”
“But what am I going to wear?” cried Tara.
“A T-shirt and shorts will be fine,” Mum replied.
“No it won’t,” Tara muttered, putting the leotard back on the rail. She hoped it would still be there by the time s
he’d saved up enough money to buy it. Anna was already halfway out the door and Mum was hurrying to catch up with her. Tara dragged along behind them. It was so unfair. She was going to be the only one at Silverdale without a leotard, and the other gymnasts would think she was just playing around and not taking it seriously.
They’d only just got home when Emily and Kate arrived for the afternoon. Tara forgot about the leotard when she saw her friends, and the three girls ran out into the garden to talk about their dance show.
“How are you two getting on with your solos?” asked Kate.
“I haven’t started mine yet,” Tara admitted. “But I’ve got lots of ideas!”
“I tried…” said Emily. “I picked some music, but I couldn’t think of any good dance steps for it.”
“I haven’t done anything yet either,” laughed Kate.
“Let’s practise the group dance again,” suggested Emily. “I think I’ve forgotten most of it.”
Between them all they soon remembered everything they’d done before. They changed a few things as they went along, and practised until they were perfectly in time with each other. But Kate had forgotten her iPod, and it was difficult practising without a beat. After a while, they found themselves sprawled on the grass, chatting and linking daisies together in chains.
“What are we going to wear for the dance show?” Emily asked.
Tara thought of the leotard again. If she could save up enough to buy it in the next few weeks, she’d wear that for her solo routine. It was her birthday soon, and she might get money from Auntie Hazel, but she’d need to save her pocket money too. “Whatever we want for our solos,” she said quickly.
Kate nodded. “But what about the group one?”
“Jeans and different coloured T-shirts?” suggested Emily.
Kate pulled a face. “Boring.”
“What then?” asked Tara.
“I don’t know. We could go shopping and find some matching things.”
“Won’t that be expensive?” Emily asked worriedly.
Tara didn’t like that idea either. If she had to buy something to wear for the group dance, she wouldn’t be able to get that beautiful leotard. “I bet we’ve already got loads of stuff the same as each other,” she said. “Let’s go and look in my wardrobe now.”
“I’ve got a skirt like that,” said Kate, pointing at a denim skirt hanging up in Tara’s wardrobe. Tara pulled it out. “Actually,” continued Kate, looking at it properly, “I think it’s the same one.”
“I’ve got one similar,” added Emily.
Kate pulled out a light, summery top and held it up against herself, looking in the mirror. “This is really pretty,” she said. “How come you never wear it?”
“Don’t know.” Tara shrugged. “It’s a bit posh for just going shopping and stuff. You can borrow it if you want.”
“Thanks,” said Kate. “I think it would be too small for me though.” She grinned at Tara, who was small for her age and sometimes got sick of people pointing out how short she was. “You should wear it for your birthday party next week!”
“Good idea,” said Tara, taking the top from Kate. It was light pink with white flowers, and had a thin line of white lace along the bottom and at the edges of the short sleeves. She smiled widely, thinking about her birthday. She was excited about having a party in the garden with all her friends from school. Emily and Kate were going to sleep over afterwards, and they’d already planned which films they were going to watch, and games they could play without making too much noise in the middle of the night.
Kate had moved on to Tara’s chest of drawers.
“What about this?” Tara suggested, spotting a dark pink fitted T-shirt that she’d forgotten about. “You’ve got something this colour, haven’t you, Em?”
“Sort of,” said Emily. “It’s a bit lighter, but close enough.”
Kate turned to look at the top. “I don’t have anything like that,” she said. Tara frowned and put the top back in her drawer.
“Wait,” said Emily. “I’ve got two tops that are almost that colour. You can wear one of mine, Kate.”
“Brilliant!” Kate smiled. She and Emily were roughly the same height and size so they often borrowed each other’s clothes. Tara sometimes wished that she was the same – she could only share things like bags and scarves and bracelets.
“That was easy,” said Emily, and Tara could tell she was glad they didn’t need to buy anything new.
“Now the dance will look awesome,” said Kate. Tara pictured the three of them dancing together in their matching outfits, and she definitely agreed. If only she could get that leotard, her solo routine would look just as great.
In bed that night, Tara could hardly sleep thinking about the next day and her first training session at a real gym club. She hoped the coach would be nice. She wondered how many people would be doing the course, whether they’d all be girls, and how old they would be. She started to worry that they’d all be much better than her. What if they’d all been doing gymnastics since they were really young? Some children started when they were three or four. She was nearly eleven, which meant she’d missed out on seven years already.
She squeezed her eyes shut to calm herself down. She wasn’t a complete beginner. In her head, she went through a list of all the things she’d taught herself to do. She’d really got the hang of backward walkovers now, and she couldn’t wait to try doing one on a real gymnastics floor. Smiling, she started to imagine wonderful things happening; things that she knew wouldn’t come true, but couldn’t help wishing for. Like, maybe she would learn to do a perfect front somersault or brilliant backflip.
Tomorrow she’d find out how she measured up against the others at Silverdale, but for tonight she let herself dream. And now that she was going to get a taste of proper training, maybe one day she really would be a world-class gymnast.
Chapter Five
The entrance lobby at Silverdale Gym Club was already packed full of children and parents when Tara and Mum arrived. There were a few coaches wandering around too, dressed in navy blue T-shirts that said Silverdale Gymnastics Club in white letters on the chest.
Tara looked around slowly, taking everything in. She was only coming to Silverdale for a week and she wanted to remember every detail. She’d been there to watch the Summer Display but it had been full of people then and she hadn’t had much time to look around. The lobby was fairly small, with a corridor leading off on each side. Straight ahead were big double doors that stood open to reveal the gym. Tara stared through the doors, anticipation bubbling up inside her. Then she tore her gaze away, knowing that she’d get to see more of the gym later.
On the walls of the lobby there were rows and rows of framed photographs. She went closer to the nearest wall to get a better look. Some were photos of big groups of gymnasts in their own clothes, with their arms around each other. The labels under these ones said they were taken at training camps in other countries, and, looking again, she could see palm trees in the background of one photo, snow on the ground in another. Lots of the photos showed gymnasts with medals, trophies and bouquets of flowers. There were girls by themselves, boys by themselves, and quite a few pictures of groups of two, three or four gymnasts together. Other photos showed big groups of gymnasts in poses, and the labels on these all said Summer Display and the year they were from. Last year, while Tara sat watching the Silverdale display with Mum and Anna, she had wished she was part of the club. Now, for one week, she was.
Suddenly, Tara realized someone was talking to her.
“Can I take your name?” asked a woman with long black hair tied up into a swinging ponytail.
“Tara Bailey,” Tara replied, and her voice came out much quieter than she’d expected.
“Nice to meet you, Tara.” The coach smiled. “I’m Lucy. I’ll be d
oing most of the coaching for the ten-to-fourteen year olds this week.” She looked down at the clipboard she was holding. “You’re ten, right? So you’ll be in my group.”
Tara nodded. “I’ll be eleven on Saturday,” she added.
“We’ll all sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to you on Friday then!” Lucy said with a big smile. “Take your shoes and socks off,” she continued, “and go and sit on the floor inside.” Tara looked where the coach was pointing. Through the open doors she could see the blue floor area, which was filling up with all the other people here for the summer camp. She noticed the white line that marked the edge of the square – just like on the floors gymnasts used in big competitions on TV. Her feet itched to step onto it and try out a round-off – launching herself onto her hands into the beginning of a fast cartwheel, then springing out of it onto both feet at the same time.
“You can leave your bottle of water and anything else on this table,” Lucy told her, pointing out a big table in the lobby that was quickly being piled with bags, bottles and lunch boxes. Then the coach went off to talk to another new arrival.
“Have a lovely day,” said Mum, and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Bye!” said Tara and she skipped away, a little embarrassed. Even if lots of the kids here were younger, she was going to be in the older group, and being kissed goodbye was so not cool. She found a space on the table for her things and went hesitantly into the gym.
Inside, the space was even bigger than she’d remembered from watching the display. The first thing she came to was the floor area, to the left of the doors. Tara’s breath caught in her throat when she stepped forward onto it. The carpet was soft under her bare feet. Tara knew that a gymnastics floor area was often called a “sprung floor” because it was a bit bouncy, and she couldn’t wait to try out something like a handspring – landings would be much better in here than in the garden! She looked around the rest of the gym. Next to the floor were two sets of asymmetric bars, and beside them were three beams. On the other side of the big gym was another floor area which was where the audience always sat for the Summer Display, and at the back there was a long blue track that led to a pit full of foam blocks, great for making landings softer. Tara saw an older girl run fast down the track and throw herself into a round-off and then up into a twisting somersault. Behind the tumbling track was another running track and the vault. At the very back of the gym were two trampolines, and another big foam pit. Above the foam blocks was a high bar, and Tara could see a boy swinging round and round in full circles.