Olivia and the Great Escape

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Olivia and the Great Escape Page 8

by Lyn Gardner


  Lots of people were taking videos that would soon find their way on to YouTube. The onlookers always liked it best when Jack was most active. During the three tense days when Jack’s chest infection seemed to have the better of him, the crowd had drifted away, and people had complained on social networking sites that Jack Marvell was boring, and that Viktor Ivanov was offering much better entertainment by Waterloo Bridge. But Jack was well and truly wooing them back. After he finished the juggling, he balanced a board on the wire and proceeded to crack eggs into a bowl and whisk them.

  “What’s he doing?” asked Tom, puzzled.

  Olivia shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said, watching him add flour and milk to the eggs.

  “Maybe he’s baking a cake,” said Eel.

  “I don’t think so,” said Aeysha. “He can’t possibly have an oven out there.”

  The crowd was intrigued, too, wondering what Jack was up to. He set up a little gas-burner on the board, put a small frying pan on top and poured in a little of the mixture.

  “Of course!” exclaimed Georgia. “It’s Shrove Tuesday. He’s making pancakes!” She smiled at Olivia and said: “Your dad, he’s so clever. What a brilliant thing to do.”

  Olivia grinned back at Georgia. Her friend had seemed so much happier during the last few days, and all the snippiness seemed to have entirely disappeared. Clearly telling Alex she wasn’t interested in him had been the right thing for Olivia to do. She only wished she had noticed and done something about it earlier. She hated to think she had done anything to make Georgia unhappy, however unwittingly. Her friends were more important to her than Alex Parks’ feelings.

  Jack was now clowning around and tossing pancakes high up into the air. To the delight of the crowd, he started throwing them down to the police in the river launch that was circling under the wire, and to a group of press photographers in a motor boat.

  “This is more like it,” said Pablo, happily. “Your dad is back on top form. I have to admit there were a couple of days when I was really worried. Not just about his chest but about his state of mind, too. It’s lonely out there on the wire, day after day, hour after hour. You need the crowd to help you.”

  “But there was no real possibility of him giving up, was there?” asked Tom.

  “Well, after that stuff in the papers it was touch and go,” said Pablo. “It’s clear that Viktor’s strategy, or rather his manager’s strategy, is to psych Jack out, and he almost succeeded.”

  “But maybe,” said Olivia slowly, “that means that Ethan Rees doesn’t think much of Viktor’s staying power.”

  Pablo grinned. “That’s exactly what I think.” He tapped the side of his nose and said, “Anyway, we’ve got a trick or two up our sleeve.”

  “But they’re not dirty tricks?” asked Aeysha.

  “No, course not,” said Pablo, quickly. “Just more where the pancakes came from.”

  “Tell us,” said Eel excitedly.

  “Be patient,” said Pablo. “Your dad is coming in for ten minutes very soon. He can tell you all.”

  Eel was sitting on Jack’s knee, playing with his hair.

  “You really are better?” asked Olivia, anxiously.

  “Never fitter,” said Jack, with a grin. “I had a little wobble, but it’s passed. I’m good.”

  “I’m sorry, Dad,” said Eel, looking stricken.

  He smiled at her, puzzled. “Don’t be sorry, Eel, it wasn’t your fault that the Viktor camp managed to get a tidbit of information about my state of health to use to his advantage. It’s just a reminder that we have to be really careful about letting information out of the camp. We need to play our cards close to our chest.”

  “So does that mean you can’t tell us about the big stunt you’ve got planned for Friday night?” asked Tom.

  Jack smiled. “I can risk it. You are Livy and Eel’s friends, and I know you are all completely trustworthy. Besides, in this instance we actually need you to spread the word. We need to encourage people to come down here at 9pm on Friday with the promise that something amazing is going to happen. We won’t tell people what it is, but we will try and pique their interest. We want a big crowd so we can really give them a good show.”

  “But what are you going to do?” asked everyone, excitedly.

  Jack leaned forward to whisper. “I’m going to give them a firework display. I’m going to create a river of fire across the wire. Things are really going to go with a bang. That’s the big secret.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kasha stopped strumming his battered guitar and looked miserably at the gaggle of people gathered in the corner of the recording studio. Lucie Groves was speaking very fast to the producer and another record-company executive. He knew that they were discussing him and his feeble effort of a song, and to be honest he wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t good enough. He was really proud of the two singles he’d already released and the rest of the album, but this song was just like a thousand other fluffy pop songs. It was cotton wool for the brain. The group broke up and Lucie Groves came and sat down by him. Kasha couldn’t look her in the eye.

  “Kasha, I think you know as well as I do that ‘Bruised’ just isn’t good enough. You have so much talent, talent that we’ve put a lot of investment into, so it’s in no one’s interest to put out a product that’s less than first class. Every song on the album has got to be a potential hit otherwise the press will be all over you. They’ll say you’re just another pretty face designed to separate teenage girls from their money; not the real deal – a proper singer-songwriter.

  “We want you to have a broader appeal than just the teenage market. We want you to take them with you as they grow older like the really big stars do. We signed you because we thought you would have longevity, Kasha, and this song … this song, well, it’s just … just…”

  “…just not good enough.” Kasha finished the sentence for her.

  “The thing is,” continued Lucie, “the sort of investment we’re making in you means that we’re expecting a long-term return, and that means that you’ve got to deliver, and deliver every time.” She paused and looked him straight in the eye. “If you can’t hack it, then we might have to rethink that investment.”

  Kasha wished Lucie would stop using the word “investment”; it made him feel as if he were a prize pig being fattened up until the moment he could be turned into bacon.

  “Listen,” said Lucie, “all I’m asking is that you come up with something distinctive. That’s the point about all your other stuff, it’s so original, it sounds like you and no one else. That’s what we want, Kasha, and I’m afraid we need it now…”

  Lucie shook her head sorrowfully. The threat was left hanging in the air. Kasha knew that they wouldn’t just cut him loose immediately. The record company had too much at stake. The album was announced and the tour was already sold out. They had spent too much money to just drop him. But he knew what would happen. Unless the first album went straight to number one and was a massive hit, they would turn their attention to someone else. You only got one chance in this business at being the next big thing, and he could see his slipping through his fingers. He thought about just standing up with his guitar and walking out the door. But he knew that would be stupid. He had dreamed all his life of being a pop star.

  “Listen, Kasha,” said Lucie, “I’m just going to pop out and get myself and the guys a coffee, and maybe you could play around with the song for a bit. I’ll bring you back a double espresso to pep you up.”

  She went to get her coat and bag, and stopped to talk to the others. Kasha strummed his guitar moodily. A melody floated into his head. He tried it out, and then played it again. He smiled to himself, a little despairing. He knew why he liked it so much. It was almost exactly the same as the chorus that Aeysha had played to him in her song this morning. He had just given yet another little tweak to the catch. He played it again, totally absorbed. It really was very good and totally distinctive. He strummed it one more time
. He looked up to see Lucie and the others staring at him, a look of real excitement on their faces.

  “Don’t stop, Kasha,” said Lucie excitedly. “That’s fantastic. It’s just what we need. Splice it in with the other stuff you wrote and suddenly ‘Bruised’ is transformed. It’s a winner. We might even be able to release it as a single.”

  “But…” said Kasha.

  “I won’t hear any ‘buts’,” said Lucie imperiously.

  “The thing is…” began Kasha.

  “The thing is we need to lay this track down,” said Lucie firmly. “Every minute in here is costing us money.”

  She nodded to the band, who had taken their places and were already playing variations on the tune Kasha had been strumming.

  “Look,” said Kasha, “it’s not really all my…”

  “Look,” said Lucie speaking over him, “let’s get to work.” She kissed Kasha on the cheek. “Come on, golden boy, let’s make you a superstar.”

  Kasha hesitated. All he had to do was admit that the bit of the song they liked so much belonged to Aeysha, not to him. But he could see that Lucie was not in the mood for any complications. In any case, he reasoned, most of the song was his. It was just that tiny bit that was hers. And it was his tweak that had made it really stand out. Besides, nobody would ever know. Aeysha wouldn’t even notice. Lots of bits of songs sounded like other songs. And nobody was really going to hear Aeysha’s song. She’d said she wasn’t going to enter it for the songwriting competition, so he might be the only other person in the world who’d heard it. He’d ring her and explain. He saw the others looking at him impatiently.

  “OK,” he said, “let’s do it.” And right at that moment, he felt as if a little bit of him deep inside had withered and died.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Aeysha stood in the classroom on her own with an envelope and three CDs in her hand. She had already put her application form for the song contest in the envelope. All she had to do now was add her CDs, seal it and take it to Mrs Gibbs to post.

  She put the CDs on a desk and stared at them. She had told Kasha that she was going to enter the first two songs she’d written and recorded for the competition, but now that the deadline was fast approaching, she wasn’t so sure. Kasha had told her how much he liked the third song she had composed in the final workshop and Aeysha really valued his opinion. He knew what he was talking about.

  She picked up the CD with that particular song on it, the one that he had transformed by making that small but crucial change to the catch in the chorus. No, she was much better to stick to the two songs that she had really practised singing. She put down the CD and pushed the other two into the envelope, sealed it with tape, and headed out of the door, shutting it behind her.

  A few seconds later the door to the classroom opened and Aeysha reappeared. She walked over to the desk, slit the envelope with a scalpel and shook out the two CDs. The three CDs sat side by side on the desk. For a moment her hand hovered over all three of them, a look of indecision on her face. Then she scooped two of them into the envelope and resealed it. She walked down the corridor to the hatch in reception where she found Eel asking Mrs Gibbs if any post had come for Jack.

  “No, Eel, nothing today,” said Mrs Gibbs. She watched Eel walk away and smiled fondly. “It’s sweet the way she’s so concerned for her dad’s post. I think it’s her way of looking after him when he’s out there in all weathers.” She turned to Aeysha. “What can I do for you, young lady?”

  Aeysha held up the envelope. “It’s my entry for the songwriting competition.”

  “I’ll put it with the others,” said Mrs Gibbs with a smile. “I’m going to send them all off tonight. I heard you’ve got a real talent for it, Aeysha. Maybe you’ll win.”

  “Maybe pigs will fly,” said Aeysha, with a grin. “It’s an open contest. There might be people who’ve written songs professionally. I doubt I’ll even get through to the next round.”

  “Well, good luck,” said Mrs Gibbs.

  Aeysha walked through the school, looking for Georgia. She’d been very elusive recently. Aeysha was pleased that her friend seemed so much happier. In fact, as Tom had remarked only that morning, Georgia didn’t just seem happier, she was positively glowing. It was as if she were lit from inside by a candle. She seemed to have stopped hankering after Alex and throwing him longing looks, too. Maybe Georgia had at last got over her crush? Aeysha wasn’t sorry. She thought Georgia had had a lucky escape.

  In the distance, Aeysha saw Tom heading up the stairs towards the classrooms, and she was about to follow him when her mobile rang. It was her mum. Aeysha settled herself down on the bottom step. Telephone conversations with her mum were never brief.

  When Tom reached the top of the stairs, he saw that the door that led on to the lower roof was ajar. He couldn’t imagine that anybody would be out there in this weather, which was dry but really chilly. He went to pull the door shut when he heard voices. He recognised them at once as belonging to Georgia and Alex. What on earth were they doing on the roof?

  Tom was about to step through the door when he heard Alex say: “Right. You go down first and I’ll follow in a couple of minutes.”

  Then Georgia said: “Alex, I don’t like all this creeping around. Why don’t we just go down together. What does it matter if we’re seen?”

  “Look babe,” said Alex, his voice soft and buttery. “I just don’t want Liv to be hurt after I rejected her to be with you, and I certainly don’t want to do anything to destroy your friendship with her and the others. So let’s just take it nice and slow. In a while, when things settle down, we can be together openly in the school, but at the moment it’s best to play it cool.”

  Tom frowned. He had an urge to crash through the door and confront Alex. It was obvious that he was talking rubbish about Liv. He had heard the rumour flying round the school, but he didn’t believe a word of it and he desperately wanted to set Georgia straight. But it would be too embarrassing to be caught eavesdropping.

  Besides, although he didn’t like Alex Parks, he was pleased for Georgia. She had been hankering after Alex since the very first day of term. Well, now it looked as if she had got what she wanted. If she wanted to go about with Alex Parks, it was her business. Besides, Tom was really rather pleased that Alex had turned his attentions elsewhere. It meant that he wouldn’t be bothering Liv any more. Tom would never admit it to anyone, but he had been really jealous of Alex’s good looks and confident manner and if Alex and Liv had gone out together he knew that he wouldn’t have been happy about it one little bit.

  “OK,” said Georgia, but Tom could hear the reluctance in her voice. “But will I see you tonight?”

  “Oh, I’ll be there,” said Alex. “I wouldn’t want to miss Jack Marvell’s triumph for the world.”

  Was there something odd in his tone, thought Tom as he slipped away, or was it just that he couldn’t stand Alex Parks? He wished Georgia had chosen someone nicer, but it wasn’t his place to say anything.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  It was just before eight o’clock at night. The river danced and sparkled under the lights from the bridge and the towpath. The odd flake of snow was falling, and Eel and Emmy were skipping around trying to catch them. The wind had dropped and it was a lovely London night.

  Olivia hugged herself and grinned at Aeysha. She could see Georgia and Tom heading towards them, Georgia craning her neck around as if she were looking for someone.

  It was a perfect night for fireworks. Word had got round that something really special was going to happen and the crowd was building. Jack had been busy since it had turned dark, setting up the display, nimbly working his way up and down the wire. Pulling it off was going to be something of a technical feat. It would have been easier to pull off during daylight hours, but that would have drawn attention to what he was planning. He wanted an element of surprise for the crowd’s sake, but he also wanted to keep what he was doing under wraps from the Viktor camp.
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  Needless to say, the word that a secret stunt was happening at Tower Bridge at nine o’clock had reached the Waterloo team and they had announced that they would be doing something special at eight. Jack and Pablo hadn’t minded in the slightest, in fact they had rubbed their hands in glee. Whatever Viktor did earlier in the evening wouldn’t be nearly as spectacular as their event, and they hoped that as soon as the fireworks started, any crowds at Waterloo would drift their way too.

  “I wonder what Viktor is going to do,” said Tom, as the time edged towards eight o’clock.

  “Well, whatever it is, it’s not going to be a patch on Jack’s stunt,” said Olivia, happily.

  “No chance,” said Georgia, with a smile.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” said Pablo, who had come up behind them. His face was grim.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Olivia.

  “There’s been a real flurry of activity down at Waterloo over the last hour or so. Viktor has been setting something up on the wire but it’s impossible to see what it is. I just wish I knew…” He broke off as they heard a huge whoosh, a violent bang and saw the sky downriver blazing red and white and blue. Rockets streaked across the sky, turning it into a dark backdrop for flowers of silver, scarlet and gold. The crowd went crazy, and some of them began running off the bridge and down the towpath to get closer to the source of this marvellous display.

  There was bang after bang. An arc of stars rose into the sky and then started to fall to earth like a fiery waterfall. Fountains of fire rose up into the air and then exploded into shimmering silver and crimson sparks, like celestial confetti. The display went on and on, with each marvellous explosion topped by one even more spectacular. Great clouds of smoke drifted across the sky as if London had been invaded by fire-breathing dragons.

 

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