Sister Switch

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Sister Switch Page 18

by Beth Garrod


  Eventually, we set back off. It was only a two-minute walk but Dad said I ‘deserved to arrive in style’. As we pulled out back on to the road, my phone buzzed.

  Nic: Good luck today. Hope you smash it xx

  I replied with a thumbs up. So did I. But there was nothing I could do about it now.

  Except feel sick with nerves, stress-eat Magic Stars, and then feel sick with nerves and Magic Stars. Which I did.

  ‘Well, here we are…’ Dad’s cheery voice snapped me out of imagining Erin on TheNicReport’s live stream asking KingKoalaFiguresItOut whether they played Castles! Chaos! Cows!

  Full body shudder.

  ‘So just you remember, Erin doesn’t do nerves!’ He smiled. ‘And if you’re worried, just tell yourself my Circus Skills mantra…’ I wasn’t sure it would be massively helpful considering he was currently supporting a semi-black eye. ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Unless you land on your head.’

  I laughed. I had no idea when he was joking, but I loved him anyway.

  ‘Thanks, Dad.’

  ‘Anytime, oldest daughter.’ But as he put the handbrake on there was something else I wanted to ask.

  ‘Do you think Lily will do okay today?’

  Without hesitation he nodded firmly. ‘Of course. She’s a superstar!’ Wow – I thought he only said that to make me feel better. ‘I just wish she knew how proud we are of her. She’s always up to something interesting, isn’t she? So impressive.’ He pulled down the visor on the windscreen. Tucked into it was a picture of me and Erin messing around in the garden, giving each other a massive hug. I had no idea. He smiled the second he saw it. ‘And the way she picks herself up? Always working on a new idea? There really is no one like our Lil.’

  He wasn’t expecting it but I reached over the gearstick and gave him a hug. A really long hug.

  ‘See you later.’ I opened the door. ‘And…’ I might as well go for it. This could be one of the last times I was in the wrong body with Dad. ‘Love you. Lots. Lily does too.’

  He beamed. ‘Well, that was pretty hairy.’ And before I could try to explain he’d got the wrong end of the stick, and it really didn’t mean ‘cool’, he drove off.

  With Dad gone, Mission Find Hairy Godmother was on.

  I ran up the huge stone steps of the Swan Theatre. Mrs Saddler’s old pal, who’d been in four episodes of Holby City (playing corpse one, two and three, and ‘dying woman who soon becomes corpse’) had loaned it to us for the week. I pushed through the stiff swivel doors.

  And immediately stopped.

  I’d never seen anywhere so posh. All the doorways were carved archways with ugly stone faces sitting at the top. And the walls were packed with signed photos of famous actors who’d performed here. My nerves shot up a gear, which considering they were already in ‘most top gear possible’ was a quite a feat.

  But where should I look for Agatha first? Every second counted! I hunted for a sign.

  Bingo!

  HAIR & MAKE-UP →

  A literal sign. I sprinted up the stairs and along the red carpeted corridor. But when I got to the first closed door I heard something behind it. Strange. No one else from school should be here yet. Feeling brave, I flung it open… to find Singed Simon in a hi-vis jacket, walkie-talkie strapped to his belt, sellotaping up ‘St Augustine’s Fire Regulations’.

  He looked at me, unimpressed. ‘You’re early?’

  I tried to nod innocently, and not as if I was out of breath, hunting for a magical hairdresser.

  ‘Yup.’ How could I not arouse suspicion? ‘Just wanted to get prepared. Familiarize myself with the venue. The… er, evacuation procedures.’

  ‘Well, it’s your lucky day.’ He pointed at a laminated poster full of writing. ‘Emergency procedures are all here on my sixty-two bullet-point list.’ Point one was ‘read all sixty-one points below’ which didn’t seem the best first step in the middle of a blazing inferno (but I felt feedback would go down as well as an unattended candle).

  ‘Wonderful. Very… thorough.’ I tried to look interested – he had voted for me to keep my part after all. ‘Sooooo.’ I looked back out into the corridor. ‘Who else is here?’

  Please say a super-cool hairdresser in dungarees.

  Simon wrinkled his forehead – well, I thought he did, but it was hard to tell without eyebrows. ‘Just Mrs Saddler. She’s here to oversee the backstage crew when they arrive.’ My stomach clenched. That was not good news. ‘And Frankie.’ Why was she here so early? ‘She’s been doing an amazing job getting the props sorted nice and early. Oh, and someone I didn’t recognize.’ Singed Simon wrinkled his nose. ‘A lady. Who said something about… “the true meaning of art is in perception” and “the parking here is very tight”.’

  Oh, my Shakespearean sonnets! That sounded like Agatha all over!

  My nerves switched to excited butterflies. We really might be able to switch bodies before the play and LOLCon!

  ‘And, er, which way did this lady go?’

  The millisecond Singed Simon pointed I sprinted off, his shouts of ‘The loose carpet is a trip hazard’ echoing behind me. I sped along the corridors, scanning every doorway. My heart was thumping, and it wasn’t just the twenty-two seconds of running. Because on the final door I saw exactly what I’d hoped for. I couldn’t help but punch the air.

  HG PRODUCTIONS: A CUT ABOVE THE REST

  I’d done it! I’d found Agatha – all on my own.

  Hello, normal life, I’ve missed you!

  I knocked as hard as I could.

  But…

  There was no answer.

  I knocked again. Even harder.

  Not again! This couldn’t be happening!

  I gripped the handle and turned it. But this time it opened. Phew.

  Relief flooded through me. And even more so when I saw what was in the room. All of Agatha’s things – her chairs, mirrors, brushes, pictures, everything dotted around the place. To anyone else this would have looked like an organized hairdresser’s, but to me this looked like pure heaven.

  But… one problem. One large problem. There was no actual sign of Agatha. The only evidence she’d been here was a steaming cup of the tea, which smelt as delicious as the one I’d had in her salon, and a massive bunch of flowers. I dared not sniff them in case they turned me into a guinea pig or something.

  But there was a card in them. With two words on the envelope I knew very well: Lily Mavers.

  Checking the door was closed, I took out the card.

  Good luck today.

  May you bring the true essence of what it is to not just act as someone,

  but to understand them.

  And if you do?

  Expect to see me later.

  A xx

  I read it again. And again. Then out loud. Then very slowly. But whatever way I read it, it made the typical amount of Agatha sense – not a lot.

  But ‘expect to see me later’ was surely a good sign? I HAD to think positive. A swap was in sight. I grabbed the flowers and headed out, ringing Erin to tell her the good-ish-bad-ish news. She didn’t pick up, so I messaged instead.

  Me: The eagle has landed!!!

  Me: As in HG is here… Somewhere.

  Erin: Good work Lil!!! Go you figuring it all out

  Wow – my sister was definitely nervous. She never gave me compliments unless they were tactical for our parents to hear. I sent her a picture of the door sign and the note.

  Erin: Hmmmm ‘see me later’?! She does mean before the play right?!

  Me: I hope she means in the next ten mins!

  Me: How are things your end?

  Erin:

  Erin: There are even more people here than at Much Ado About Something!

  Only my sister could be surprised about this. I wandered along the empty corridor, sort of hoping to see Agatha just walking about.

  Me: You’re going to be great. I’ll be watching when I can!

  Erin:

  It was 10.40
a.m. which meant twenty minutes till the livestream interviews kicked off. And also probably time to admit my hope of swapping back before then was almost at zilch, along with my chances of getting on TheNicReport. But… I wasn’t giving up until Nic said it was over. And then I’d said ‘are you sure?’. And then she’d confirmed in writing it definitely was.

  Me: Get back as quick as you can. Mrs Saddler is (but in a more dramatic way)

  My sister had sorted that Frankie would set up all the props and tell Mrs Saddler that Lily was doing all the carrying from the van, which was why she wasn’t around backstage. Then when my sister got here, Frankie could take a break while Erin double-checked all the props were in order (and our backup plan – that her prompts on them had survived). Once that was done Erin and I could track Agatha down and finally get back in the right bodies.

  Although if not…

  The full horror of it hit me so hard I grabbed the nearest thing for support.

  A waist-height gargoyle.

  It would be…

  Me. In this theatre. On stage. Acting. In front of everyone. Including Chinyere Okafor.

  Nope. Could. Not. Deal.

  Maybe I should focus on something else. Like Micha.

  I began to type.

  Me: I think you’ll be setting off for the exam soon.

  Me: so sending you all the luck and periodic table thoughts

  Me: And remember, your brian is the best brian there is.

  I’d once typed ‘brain’ wrong and now we always said it. I just wished there was something more me or my sister could have done. Erin had told me that Micha’s parents had done exactly what she thought when they’d got Mr Sharma’s letter – said football would be off until she got back into the top set.

  It was all such a mess.

  With no sign of Agatha I headed to the dressing room marked ‘Principle Cast’. Maybe she’d put in an appearance with the hair and make-up team? But as I leant my flowers up in the empty room, rereading her note, I heard footsteps.

  ‘Oh, hi, stranger.’ It was Frankie. She was dressed all in black. ‘Can’t believe the big day’s finally here! How are you doing?’

  ‘Y’know.’ Freaking out about being stuck as my older sister for ever! Not wanting to sniff flowers in case I turn into a guinea pig! ‘Getting there. Just hoping for something… magical to happen.’

  She nodded as if she understood, but I very much doubted she’d ever swapped skeletons with Nic.

  ‘Fair enough. Guess it doesn’t get any bigger for you. So good luck!’ She slapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Oh, soz, is that bad luck?’

  ‘Only if you believe in that kind of thing, so I’ll take it.’ I smiled, which seemed to annoy her. I really couldn’t work her out.

  ‘At least you don’t have to worry about your props.’ She patted the side of her nose with her finger. ‘I’ve been sorting them all morning so Mrs Saddler won’t suss that Lily’s late.’

  ‘Thanks, Frankie.’ I meant it. ‘From both of us. Do you need a hand?’

  ‘No. You do you boo. It’s a big day.’

  Her walkie-talkie crackled.

  ‘Simon to Frankie!’ Singed Simon’s voice boomed out. ‘We need to move the fake olive tree in five.’

  And with a, ‘COMING!’ to him and an, ‘XOXO!’ to me Frankie ran off.

  Which meant it was time to face my fate.

  Time to do what thousands of other people had just started to do.

  Watch my sister live and unleashed on TheNicReport.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  If I was hoping that seeing it happen would be less stressful than waiting to for it to happen, I was mistaken.

  Fifteen minutes into Erin’s interviews the highlights already included:

  Erin calling my favourite creator, HollyHuman, MollyLooman.

  Erin saying to a very confused KingKoalaFiguresItOut. ‘Don’t worry, I’m on mute so no one can hear. If you need a nervous wee go have one! I just did!’ Followed by: ‘Why is there a microphone symbol? Are we not on mute? Everyone heard this, didn’t they?’ Then: ‘My dad loves you by the way!’ and the video cutting.

  Erin introducing her backstage tour by saying, ‘Hi. People call me Lily. Because that is my name. That my mum and dad gave me.’

  And when one of the Pham Sisters asked if she was ‘vibed to have got so close to King Chase’ my sister said, ‘Who?’ and then, ‘Oh yes, the one with great dry ice. Who I’m not allowed to say needs a haircut.’

  I took a moment to respectfully mourn any hopes of Nic wanting me on her team. But I knew how hard Erin had tried so I couldn’t be cross. Just disappointed.

  Oh jeez. I sounded like Mum. Still, the one good thing was there was no sign of any special guest, which meant no sign of Erin doing anything even worse with Chase than what had happened at his concert. So with cast filling up the dressing room, I stopped watching and got back to my mission – tracking down Agatha.

  But as I hurried out, Mrs Saddler grabbed me to go through a scene with Harley. And by the time we’d finished that, it was one p.m. And I still hadn’t found Agatha. At least Erin would be here any second. I was sure together we’d be able to find the Hairy Godmother – and if not, we’d urgently need to do the backup plan of running through Titania’s lines and preparing for the worst.

  But an hour later everyone had arrived, except my sister.

  Why wasn’t she picking up her phone?!

  ‘ALL CAST AND CREW TO THE AUDITORIUM.’

  Mrs Saddler’s voice boomed round the venue over the speakers and on all the crew’s walkie-talkies. With a growing sense of dread I headed to the stage.

  Although… wait?!

  Who was that in the foyer?

  Was the lady rummaging through her bag in a hat wearing… dungarees?! And a stripy top?!

  Finally!

  I ran at the Hairy Godmother like the wind!

  ‘Agatha!’ I shouted, leaping right in front of her (and a little bit on her). She jumped so hard she threw her cup of coffee in the air.

  ‘I’m sorry, do I know you?’ a very confused, very blonde and very covered in coffee woman asked. My apology took so long I was five minutes late for Mrs Saddler.

  In a mad dash, I burst through the big doors marked CIRCLE SEATING. But when I saw the stage for the first time I stopped dead. The auditorium was huge. There must be… I tried to count… one hundred… two hundred… three hundred… whatever hundred too many seats! The stage was draped in red velvet curtains and looked like something from the movies.

  How on earth could anyone be brave enough to step out there and perform?

  In front of all these people?

  Mrs Saddler strode on to the stage, a light shining on her as she looked down at us all. She looked like an angel. A really scary angel wearing enough material for five people. She billowed dramatically.

  I slid into one of the red velvet chairs next to Lou, waved hi to Harley and squeezed out the last drops of coffee from my sleeve. Surely Erin would sneak in any second?

  ‘Now…’ Mrs Saddler’s clap echoed round the huge space. She inhaled with her eyes closed. ‘And that’s why we love the theee-a-terrr.’ She was in her element. ‘A few moments ago a very interesting lady said something I wish to share.’ Oh, here we go. “ ‘We can’t truly walk in another’s shoes until we’ve tried wearing their socks.’ ”

  Pardon?! Was Mrs Saddler quoting Agatha?! She must be here! I leapt up and scanned the room.

  ‘Erin! Seats please.’ Blushing, I sat back down. But my heart was racing. The Hairy Godmother was nearby! ‘As I was saying. She couldn’t be more right. Tonight isn’t just about existing in the bodies of these amazing creations of Shakespeare, it’s about truly becooommminnng them. So. Do. We. Think. We. Can. Do. That?’ Mrs Saddler clapped between every word. ‘I said, DO WE THINK WE CAN DO THAT?’

  We all replied with a shaky, ‘Yes.’ Guess I wasn’t the only nervous one.

  ‘Good. Because we can’t have a single
thing go wrong in front of the queen of youth drama, CHINYERE OKAFOR HERSELF!’ Well that was the opposite of calming. Mrs Saddler then paced about finishing her ‘quick rallying speech’ (which took another twenty-five minutes). By the time she stopped we only had an hour before curtain-up. I raced to hair and make-up.

  Where was Erin?!

  I was really starting to panic. Especially as the hairdresser turned out not to be Agatha, but Anita from Anita Haircut and when I optimistically asked her about her feelings on socks, all she said was they were good for mopping up blood. And told me to stop moving or it wouldn’t be her fault if she stuck a hairpin in my eye.

  Where was Agatha?!

  And where was my sister?!

  In desperation I headed back up to the auditorium. I pushed the heavy door open and peeked in. So. Many. People.

  This was really happening. Mum and Dad were already in the front row, two empty seats next to them: Micha’s and Ben’s. Oh no. Had they both given up on us?

  When Dad spotted me he blew me a shower of kisses and Mum mouthed, ‘GO, YOU!’ My stomach clenched with guilt at how disappointed they were about to be unless I managed to find the world’s most elusive hairdresser.

  ‘ERIN.’ Mrs Saddler’s voice thundered down the corridor. I spun round, the door slamming. ‘What did I say? No letting the audience see you in full dress! AND WHERE IS THAT SISTER OF YOURS?’

  Uh-oh, the one question I really didn’t want.

  ‘I, umm, think she was doing a final sweep of the van to make sure the props were A-okay. She’s doing so much it’s tricky to pin her down.’

  ‘That’s what Frances said.’ Mrs Saddler glared at me so hard it was as if she was trying to dredge the truth up from my soul. It almost worked. ‘But you tell your sister, even if Lupita Nyong’o and Kate Winslet themselves had decided to take her for a pre-show chat, that would still not be a good enough reason for being late.’ She swallowed. ‘UNDERSTOOD?’

 

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