Star of Silver Spires (5 page)

I nodded and wondered whether at long last she was taking a proper interest.

“All right, so I won't expect much practice from you until that's over then!”

“It's only the first round on Saturday night. The people who are voted through have to compose and perform a different song for the final round a week later, and that's in two parts. So, say there were eight people, then it might go down to four at first, then there'll be another vote to find the winner.”

“Right…” Mrs. Roach's eyes had moved off my face and were back on the Debussy, and I could tell she wasn't really interested. “Okay, let's have a bash at this. Try to hear the first couple of bars in your head before you start.”

But the only thing I could hear in my head were angry thoughts about Mrs. Roach and I don't know how I managed to get through the rest of my piano lesson without exploding. It was obvious she thought the Star competition was a trivial little nothingy contest, and what made me even madder was the way she was also assuming that I wouldn't get through the first round, because she never said a word about how my practice might suffer if I was busy writing another song.

It was all I could do not to slam the door when I went out of the music room. I didn't look at Mrs. Roach when I said goodbye, and I stayed angry all the way from the music block back to Hazeldean and up to our dorm, which is on the top floor. There was no one in the dorm and I threw myself face down on my bed and burst into frustrated tears.

After a while I turned over and stared at the ceiling. I should never have mentioned the competition to Mrs. Roach because I know she doesn't get pop music. But what made it ten times worse was that she was probably right not to worry about me missing any more practice, because there was no way I was going to get through the first round. In fact, it was a stupid idea entering this contest. I'm not a performer so I'm never going to be a real musician.

“Hey, Mia, what's the matter?” Katy had come back from fashion club and was clambering up the ladder to my bed. She stepped over me and squashed herself into a corner, leaning against the wall and hugging her knees. “I was only just thinking about you actually.”

I wasn't sure whether to answer her question or to ask her why she was thinking about me.

“We've been at the theatre,” she went on excitedly. “We're going to make loads of huge Ss out of thick silver paper – but not that shiny sort of stuff – a real brushed-metal look. And we're going to hang them all over the theatre in chains. That was my idea!”

“It sounds brilliant!” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could, but then Georgie came crashing in, back from her play rehearsal.

“The Star list is up outside the drama hall!” she announced dramatically. “Eleven acts, including quite a few bands.” She was climbing the ladder to my bed as she spoke. “Shove up, Katy!” Then she looked at my face properly for the first time and her voice went all soft and worried. “Have you been crying, Mia?”

I didn't answer, because for some reason my throat was hurting and I could feel tears starting to prick the backs of my eyes again.

“Oh Mamma Mia, what's the matter?”

I sat up and hugged my knees, so we were all three sitting side by side, our backs against the wall. Part of me was tempted to admit how petrified I was at the thought of performing, but I just couldn't.

“Mrs. Roach made me mad, that's all.”

“Mrs. Roach? Was she cross because you hadn't practised enough? Did you tell her you've got to…you know…what's that word? Begins with P?”

Naomi came in then. “Wow, Mia's bed! Definitely the ‘in' place, I see!”

“What's that word, Naomi? For when you sort things out in order of importance, you know, you have to pri…”

“Prioritize.”

“That's the one. I hope you told her straight, Mia!”

So then I was annoyed with myself because Georgie was right. I was just too meek and mild. I should have been stronger with Mrs. Roach.

“She wouldn't have listened,” I answered in a flat voice. “She didn't think the contest was anything important. As soon as I said it was a singer/songwriter competition she lost interest.”

“Oh poor you, Mia! Well, listen, that's Mrs. Roach's problem. Just ignore the old bag.”

Georgie always sticks up for me brilliantly, and that's what she was doing right now, and yet, even though I was cross with Mrs. Roach, I didn't want anyone calling her an old bag. It was all a bit confusing. I do like Mrs. Roach, and I respect her too, but she'd just got to me that afternoon.

Naomi looked thoughtful. “You should try to get her to come along to the first round on Saturday night. Then she'd see how talented you are at writing your own music.”

I shivered at the thought of Saturday night. My heart beat at five hundred miles per hour every time I imagined the auditorium at the theatre filled with people all there to watch eleven acts…including me. I wasn't sure if the Year Tens and Elevens would be interested in a contest for the younger girls, but if they were, then there might be about three hundred and fifty people there, and every one of them would be voting for one of the acts. My heart raced even more and I wondered how I'd ever get myself onstage on Saturday evening.

I thought about what Naomi had said. It was a lovely compliment, but I wasn't sure if I wanted Mrs. Roach to be at the contest. It would only make me more nervous than ever.

“Anyway, forget about that,” said Katy. “The important thing is, what's Mia going to wear?” Her eyes gleamed and she sat up straight. “That's what I want to know!”

As soon as Grace was back from tennis and had got changed, and Jess was back from doing her art project, we all sat round on the rug in the middle of the lovely old oak floorboards of our dorm. We'd only got about five minutes before supper, but Katy thought we ought to have a friendship meeting to get everyone's opinion on what I should wear on Saturday night.

“We've got to consider the whole look,” she said, narrowing her eyes in thought. “Not just the clothes, the image.”

“Well I think we need to make you look older, Mia,” said Georgie, nodding round at everyone as though they were sure to agree.

“But we mustn't make her look too different from what she is,” said Naomi.

“Wh…what
am
I?” I asked in a small voice.

“You're natural,” said Naomi simply.

“Yes, Naomi's right,” Georgie said with a sigh. “You're little and slim, with long straight blonde hair and lovely creamy skin, and I'm deadly jealous. Why can't I have long straight hair and be all small and neat?”

“Your hair's lovely,” I said, “and at least you look your age!”

“What do you
want
to wear?” asked Jess.

“Just jeans and a top.”

“Well, we'll let you wear jeans,” Katy said thoughtfully. “But I think we need to snazz up the top half. What about this?” She jumped up and went over to her drawer. “Hang on a sec…”

She came back with a beautiful bright turquoise top with swirly patterns of sequins all over it.

“But that's one of your best tops, Katy! And it might be a bit big for me…” Although even as I was saying it, I was really hoping it would fit, because I so wanted to wear it.

“It'll look great with your blonde hair,” said Katy. “Go on, try it on.”

So I did, and I absolutely loved it.

“It looks way better on you than it ever does on me!” said Katy, which was very kind of her but totally not true.

So then we all went off to supper talking about what make-up I ought to wear. After supper we had to get through an hour's prep, which is like homework, where we sit in a room in silence and get on with the work we've been set. Tonight it was our matron, Miss Jennings, supervising. I couldn't concentrate particularly well, and I noticed Katy wasn't concentrating either. She was sketching away with a dreamy look in her eyes, while, on my other side, Georgie had her play script on her lap. I glanced sideways at her and saw her lips moving, which meant she was learning her lines.

The moment prep was over we rushed back up to the dorm so Katy could try out some make-up ideas. When she'd finished, I looked at myself in the mirror and got a shock at the sight of my face with bright red lips and silvery black eyes. I thought I looked like a horrible doll, but I didn't want to say that when Katy had worked so hard.

“Do you think you need to soften it a bit?” Naomi asked carefully.

“I'd really rather not wear any make-up at all,” I said, trying to be a bit less meek and mild.

Naomi and Grace agreed that if I wasn't comfortable in make-up, I shouldn't wear any, but Georgie and Jess said that I'd look pale and washed out on the stage with all the bright lights if I didn't wear some sort of make-up.

After I'd washed my face, Katy had another go, and I liked it much better, because although it gave me a shock when I looked in the mirror, it wasn't a nasty one. Really, it was still a bit too much for my liking, but I knew Georgie and Jess were right about the stage lighting, and everyone said I looked stunning – even Naomi and Grace – which was a lovely compliment. So I agreed to let Katy make me up just like that on Saturday.

Saturday!
I shuddered yet again and couldn't get the thought of it out of my head. By the time I went to bed I was in a terrible state, imagining all the cool acts coming onstage one after the other, and then pathetic little me wandering on, and people not really noticing me because I'm so small and young-looking. Or maybe I'd have to go on first? Would it be worse to be first, or last, or somewhere in the middle? I decided the middle would be best.

After a while I could feel that I was the only one still awake. I could hear Georgie, Jess and Naomi breathing, and although the other two sleep almost completely silently, I've been in the same dorm with them for so long that I can just tell when they're asleep. And as I lay there, feeling very alone, I started thinking about the piano, which got me into an even worse state.

Every single week since I've been at Silver Spires I've gone straight to a free practice room after my piano lesson and practised for a few minutes, because Mrs. Roach taught me that if you do that, all you've learned will stick in your memory, whereas if you leave it even for a day, you can't remember what you've been taught half so well.

Today, though, for the first time, I hadn't played through any of the work that Mrs. Roach had set me. I'd just kept playing my song for the contest, and then I'd spent ages improvising new bits of songs. It seemed to be all I wanted to do these days and I couldn't help feeling guilty about it. There was a horrible little voice at the back of my mind reminding me that I'd got my music scholarship because of my piano playing, and I shut my eyes and buried myself under the duvet to try and stop the terrible picture that came into my mind of a stern-looking Mrs. Roach telling me I hadn't practised enough.

You know what this means, don't you, Mia? You'll have to give up your scholarship.

I shot out from under my duvet, feeling stifled. If I had my scholarship taken away I might have to leave Silver Spires, because I wasn't sure if Mum and Dad could afford to keep me here without the school paying some of my fees. And that would be unbearable.

I promise to practise like mad from now on
, I told myself over and over again as I lay in the dark.
I promise to practise…I promise…

As Friday turned into Saturday, and Saturday morning turned into Saturday afternoon, I grew more and more nervous. The girls who were performing in the contest had to attend a rehearsal in the afternoon to check the position of the mikes and the sound levels. Mr. Ray was also going to tell us the running order. We had to be at the theatre between two o'clock and two thirty, and I decided to be early to get it over with more quickly. Georgie said she'd come with me, thank goodness.

I'd been worrying in case Georgie wasn't allowed to be with me, but when we turned up, Mr. Ray didn't tell her she had to go or anything. It was a relief to find I was the first to arrive.

“Now, let's see…” He pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket. “You're the fifth act of eleven, Mia, so you'll be seated in the auditorium with your friends, and you'll come down to the stage when you're announced.” I like the way the seats in the auditorium are in tiers, getting higher as they go further back, just like a proper theatre. And the front row is level with the front of the stage. “It's all very casual,” Mr. Ray went on. “Nothing to worry about. If you want, you can give the audience a little wave or a bow, or otherwise you might prefer simply to go straight to the piano.”

“I'll go straight to the piano,” I said in a small voice.

“No probs at all!” said Mr. Ray. “Now, this is the mike for your voice. You can sing a bit now to get an idea of how close to the mike you need to be, and you'll notice that with the amplification on the stage the piano will come over nice and clearly.”