Rebecca's Rules

by Anna Carey

  TUESDAY

  I have had an amazing brainwave. I know how me and Cass and Alice can bond again. We’re going to be in a musical. I don’t mean we’re going to, like, start singing in the streets like loons. Or put a musical on ourselves. No, we can be in the school musical!

  My great idea came to me this morning in Room 7. It was an English class. Mrs Harrington was going on about some poem or other (luckily she has more or less stopped going on about my mother’s books all the time. I think the novelty of having Rosie Carberry’s daughter in her class has worn off at last, thank God). Anyway, even when she is not being incredibly annoying she is very boring so I was looking off into space and suddenly I realised that I was staring at the class noticeboard. And that’s when I saw the notice about the musical auditions. Obviously I had seen it before as it had been up for weeks, and Jessie and Ellie have been talking about the auditions for a while, but this time it was like a lightbulb went on and I had my brilliant idea. What could be a more perfect way of getting us all to spend proper bonding time together than doing the musical? Apart from, I dunno, going on holiday together, which isn’t very practical in February.

  And the thing is, if we try out for the musical we’ll definitely get to do something because it’s just for our year. Every year a different year gets to put on the show (it used to be open to the whole school, but the fifth and sixth years kept getting all the decent parts, which wasn’t very fair, so now they move it around so everyone gets a chance at some stage) and this year it’s the second year’s turn. The school collaborates with St Anthony’s down the road so some BOYS get to take part too, but it was our school’s idea so it’s mostly us. They only get a few boys in to do a couple of the really deep parts and do some heavy lifting.

  I hadn’t thought about it much this year because I was so caught up in my woe (and to be honest I would rather have been going to band practice after school than prancing about with my classmates in the school hall). But now there is (a) no band practice for weeks until Alice gets better and (b) I have to try and stop being so miserable all the time. So it seems like the perfect thing to do. We’d be spending time together working on a new project. I would be too busy learning dances or making sets to worry about Paperboy and my terrible life. It will help me stick to several rules at once! And the auditions are on Thursday.

  I told Cass and Alice about my amazing scheme as soon as the class was finished (I didn’t tell them that I thought we needed to bond. They might think that was a bit weird. So I said it would be a fun thing to do while the band is on a break). Cass is actually really into the idea. I was kind of surprised by this (it took ages to persuade her to actually start the band and then do the Battle) until she told me that she didn’t want to perform in it, she wanted to work backstage.

  ‘At last,’ she cried, ‘I can live out my dream of being a set designer.’

  I have to admit that I had totally forgotten it was her dream to be a set designer, which isn’t surprising because, as I pointed out the last time we talked about this, she never really goes to the theatre so I don’t know why she feels so strongly about designing sets. But she does, so there you go. Anyway, whether we’re backstage or on stage, we’ll still all be involved, so that is fine.

  Alice was slightly less enthusiastic. I think falling off a chair has made her a bit less cheerful, which is understandable I suppose.

  ‘I can’t do anything with my plaster,’ she said miserably.

  ‘But why?’ I said. ‘I mean, you can sing. And it’s Mary Poppins! It’s not like it’s one of those musicals where you have to do, like, breakdancing and stuff.’

  I’m not totally sure if there actually are any musicals where you have to do breakdancing. But there probably are.

  ‘Hmmm,’ said Alice.

  ‘Or you could work backstage,’ I suggested. ‘Like Cass. She wants to design the sets.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Alice. ‘I’d forgotten about the set thing.’

  ‘So had I,’ I said. ‘Actually, I thought she had too. But she hasn’t. Anyway, if you don’t feel like singing you can do that! Or look after the sound or something. Whatever you like.’

  ‘But my plaster …’ began Alice.

  ‘Your right arm is fine!’ I said. ‘Which is what you do most work with. Apart from the guitar of course. But, in fairness, there isn’t much chance of anyone playing the guitar in Mary Poppins.’

  ‘I suppose not,’ said Alice. ‘So what exactly do you want to do? In the musical, I mean.’

  ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I don’t know, really. I’ll probably be in the chorus.’ I paused. ‘Though of course, there’s always Mary Poppins herself …’

  Alice made a peculiar noise that sounded a little bit like a laugh but can’t have been because she said, very seriously, ‘That’s a good idea but … don’t you need more experience?’

  ‘Well, no one in our class has experience,’ I said.

  ‘As far as we know,’ said Alice. ‘Everyone’s full of surprises recently. Think of Karen and the fairytale prince!’

  ‘Good point,’ I said.

  ‘And we don’t know much about the girls in other classes in our year. I mean, for all we know, Susie Murray is a … a prima ballerina!’

  Susie Murray is in 2:1 and is in my German class. She could actually be a ballerina for all I know, I’ve never talked to her about anything besides how to get to an imaginary train station in Frankfurt.

  ‘Also a good point,’ I said. ‘But still, she probably isn’t. I mean, everyone has a chance at an open audition. Don’t they?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Alice.

  ‘But,’ I said honestly, ‘I’ll probably just be in the chorus. If I’m lucky.’

  Alice said, ‘Oh no, there’s a chance you’ll get a big part,’ but she wasn’t very convincing. Still, the chorus will still be fun, won’t it? I mean, it’s still show business. Sort of. So we’re all going to try and take part in the musical. It’s not the same as band stuff, but at least it’s something. And it might distract me from thinking about how Paperboy has forgotten all about me. Which he has. Still no mail.

  WEDNESDAY

  I have been practising my song for the musical. I am going to sing the lullaby from Mary Poppins. My mum used to sing it to us when we were little, so I know it really well. Mary Poppins gets the children to go to sleep by singing them a song about staying awake, and it’s quite a nice tune, really. Of course, my selfish family is not supportive of my new dream. Rachel stomped into my room in her usual charming style just when I was getting going.

  ‘Oh my God,’ she said. ‘It was bad enough when you were drumming on saucepans. But if you’re going to start shrieking and wailing too, I’m going to have to move out.’

  ‘I was practising for the school musical auditions!’ I said. ‘It’s tomorrow!’

  ‘Since when did you want to be in the musical?’ said Rachel.

  I nearly said ‘Since Tuesday’, but instead said, ‘I’ve always been interested in the theatre.’

  Rachel snorted like the pig she is.

  ‘Huh,’ she said. ‘That’s news to me. What part are you going for?’

  ‘I dunno,’ I said. ‘I mean, I’ll probably just be in the chorus.’

  I keep saying that, but secretly I have been hoping that I’ll get a proper part. I mean, my singing isn’t too bad. And I know I can act. I used to want to be an actress and I’ve always thought I could do it quite well if I tried. And I went to speech and drama for a while too, and I was pretty good. I especially liked doing improvisations, where you make up a story and act it out. And when I was younger I used to read out bits of the dialogue from books I liked (just in my room when no one can hear me) and, if I say so myself, my acting is quite powerful. I used to read out a bit of A Little Princess (which is a very sad book about a poor orphan girl) and I almost made myself cry. So I must be able to act a bit.

  Also, Mum was a member of her college drama society ten million years ago (in the ’80s) an
d they went over to do some big student drama festival in London once. So the theatre is in my blood. Sort of. I think I might have a chance, anyway. It’s not like anyone else in my class is known for her great theatrical skills. I figure that if I can sing in tune, I have as good a chance as anyone else.

  Anyway, Rachel said, ‘Well, that’s quite fun. Jenny was in the chorus when our year did it and she said it was a great laugh.’

  ‘Didn’t you do the sets or something?’ I said. ‘That’s what Cass wants to do.’

  ‘I did,’ she said. ‘And that’s where I met Tom.’

  I had totally forgotten that that was how she’d met her boyfriend. They’ve been going out for so long (well, two years), it feels like they’ve been together forever.

  ‘Oh my God,’ I said. ‘So you did. What was he doing?’

  ‘Carrying giant lights around,’ said Rachel.

  ‘Because of his manly strength and huge muscles?’ I said, and sniggered. Because Tom is quite good looking but he is also rather skinny. In a nice way, I should add. Rachel knew I was only joking because, instead of screaming at me, she just threw a pillow at me.

  ‘Exactly,’ she said. She looked all wistful. If we were in a film, everything would have gone all wobbly and black and white and there’d have been a flashback to two years ago in our school hall. ‘I was painting a cardboard table and he nearly knocked my paint pot over with a giant light.’

  ‘How romantic,’ I said.

  ‘It was, actually,’ said Rachel. She looked at me in a serious big sisterly way. This was never good.

  ‘You know, you might meet someone yourself on the musical,’ she said, in a careful sort of voice.

  ‘Why,’ I said, ‘would I want to do that?’

  ‘Well … you know,’ said Rachel. ‘I mean, it’s months since Paperboy … went away. And, you know, it might be ages before you see him again …’

  ‘I don’t care!’ I cried. ‘I don’t want to meet anyone else!’

  And I don’t. I know I might never see Paperboy again, but it doesn’t make any difference. I still miss him. I don’t care about other boys. I can’t believe Rachel thinks I’m so shallow.

  ‘I bet if Tom went off to Canada, you wouldn’t run off with the first boy who … who tripped over your paint pot!’ I said.

  Rachel sighed in an annoying, grown-up way.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘But after a while … well, you know, people break up and go out with other people all the time …’

  Just hearing her say that about breaking up made me want to burst into tears. But I didn’t. I just sniffed.

  ‘We haven’t broken up,’ I said.

  ‘Oh,’ said Rachel. ‘Okay. Anyway, I’m going to ring Tom. Can you keep the noise down?’

  ‘No,’ I said, childishly.

  Rachel sighed again. ‘Well, try.’ And off she went. I felt rotten. I know that me and Paperboy haven’t broken up, but are you really going out with someone who hasn’t bothered to contact you in weeks and weeks? I don’t know if you are.

  Anyway, I can’t think about it now. I must practise my song again. And if it disturbs Rachel’s conversation with her precious Tom, then GOOD.

  LATER

  I told Mum about the musical and she was surprisingly encouraging about it for someone whose usual mission seems to be to destroy all my hopes and dreams. And listen to this: she told me that she was not only in the college drama society, but in third year she was also in the musical society, and so was Dad! In fact, they did a musical together! I knew the theatre was in my blood.

  ‘It was a lot of fun,’ she said. ‘We did The Pirates of Penzance. I must dig out the photos.’

  The last thing I would normally want to see is a load of pictures of my parents poncing about in tights, but now I am planning to be a musical star I need all the background information I can get.

  ‘Did you have a proper part?’ I asked.

  ‘Well yeah,’ said Mum. It turns out she was the Pirate King, which is the biggest part of all! I asked why a girl was playing the Pirate King and she said they were a very open-minded musical society.

  ‘A group of us women said it wasn’t fair that the men always got all the best parts and the girls just had to stand around being soppy, so they decided to open it up a bit,’ she said fondly. ‘It was great fun. I got to swing around the stage on a rope.’

  I wanted to find out more about Mum’s youthful stardom but I have to practise a bit more first. Still, now it looks like she will be able to give me lots of advice on becoming a musical star. Who knew my mother could actually have a positive effect on my life? I didn’t think this was possible.

  Still no mail from you-know-who. But I don’t really have time to worry about it. I need to do more practising now.

  FRIDAY

  I don’t believe it. I do NOT believe it. I already knew the world wasn’t fair, but now I have proof. The cast was announced today. And there is truly no justice in the universe because I still can’t believe who got the lead role.

  I was feeling quite optimistic before the auditions at lunchtime yesterday. Everyone who wanted to sing and dance on stage had to go to the school hall and everyone who wanted to work backstage went to language lab. So I headed off to the hall with Jessie and Alice (she has decided to try for the chorus too, which makes sense because, to be honest, she can sing better than I can) while Cass and Ellie went to offer their services designing sets and costumes and whatnot. You had to write your name on a list when you came in so we did that and then took a seat to wait for our names to be called.

  I was kind of surprised by who was there. Karen and Alison, for example. Maybe falling in love with a fairytale prince (called Bernard) has transformed Karen in all sorts of ways. And Vanessa was there, looking as smug as ever.

  ‘Wow, nothing can stop her,’ said Jessie. ‘Not even being pushed over by a pony. She’s like an old-fashioned diva. Or an evil robot.’

  ‘Maybe going to that music, dance and whatever class has gone to her head,’ I said. ‘And now she thinks she really is talented.’

  ‘Well, maybe she is,’ said Alice. ‘I mean, she could be. We’ve never actually heard her sing. Or seen her act. And remember, she was going to sing with the band last night before the whole angry pony thing.’

  ‘That doesn’t prove anything,’ I said. ‘Even if Vanessa couldn’t sing, she wouldn’t let it stop her from showing off.’

  ‘True,’ said Jessie, and then Ms Byrne, the English teacher who always organises the school show, walked onto the hall’s stage. I wish she was our English teacher, she seems much more normal than Mrs Harrington

  ‘Welcome, second years!’ she said cheerfully. ‘I hope you’re all very excited about this year’s wonderful musical. I know you’re all going to be great, so let’s get started. You’re all going to sing a bit of a song you’ve prepared, and then we’re going to act out a bit of a scene together. Okay? And don’t worry if you don’t get a big part − there’ll be room for everyone else in the chorus.’

  Vanessa looked even more pleased with herself than ever, as if she already knew she was going to get a big part. Which, in fairness, turned out to be true. Unfortunately.

  ‘Right, said Ms Byrne. ‘The first up is … Karen Rodgers!’ Karen grinned nervously at Alison in a way that made her look like an actual human being as opposed to a mean bitch who likes mocking other girls for what their annoying mothers do.

  ‘What are you going to sing, Karen?’ asked Ms Byrne, as Karen took to the stage.

  ‘“Don’t Stop Believin”,’ said Karen.

  I have to admit that I was hoping she’d be terrible. I mean, she’d been so awful to me when my mum’s book came out that I was looking forward to seeing her make a fool of herself. But I didn’t get my wish, because she wasn’t bad at all. And then Ms Byrne gave her the script and they acted out a few lines and she was quite good at that too. I was shocked. When she finished Ms Byrne looked pleased and said ‘Very good, Karen, you’ve got us
off to a great start.’

  Then a girl from 2:3 called Katie went up and sang ‘Tomorrow’ and on it went. I started to get more and more nervous. Loads of the girls could sing pretty well, and some of them were really good actors too. It started to dawn on me that I mightn’t have a chance of getting even a tiny speaking part. Alice sang very well, as usual, and Ms Byrne assured her that if she wanted to be in the chorus her plaster wasn’t a problem.

  Then Jessie was called up and sang ‘Who Will Buy This Wonderful Morning?’ from Oliver. But I barely noticed her acting because she had written her name down just before me which meant that I was next. And it seemed like just a second later that I heard Ms Byrne saying ‘Very good, Miss King. Now, Rebecca Rafferty, you’re up next.’

  The good thing about being in a band is that even though we’ve only played one gig, I’m not as nervous about getting up on a stage as I used to be. I mean, after you’ve fallen off a drum stool in front of a huge crowd of people, nothing can really faze you. So when I found myself actually up on the stage, I sort of stopped feeling nervous and just sang the lullaby from Mary Poppins as well as I could. Which was quite well, if I say so myself. The theatre is in my blood, after all. Then Ms Byrne gave me the script. It was the scene where Mary Poppins tells the kids that she’s practically perfect in every way. I had to do a few lines as Mary and a few as one of the kids. And that was it. I was feeling quite pleased, and Jessie whispered to me that I’d done really well. But I didn’t get to say thanks because Vanessa was striding confidently onto the stage as though she were a big star and we’d all been waiting for her.

  ‘Hi, everyone!’ she said, before Ms Byrne could say anything. ‘I’m going to sing “Memories” from Cats.’