I think I look rigid because I’m trying to stop my knees from shaking,’ I said. ‘It was awful in the first round.’
‘Ah, classic case of jelly knees,’ Zac said, smiling. ‘We all get it when we start out. OK, I want you to sing the song again, but this time, I want you to shake. Shake on purpose. Sing the song and tremble, shake your arms . . .’
I started singing and did as he told me.
‘Good,’ he said, ‘let those legs wobble and tremble, give in to it. Come on, really get into it, shake, shake, shake . . .’
I continued singing and shaking, and in the end, I couldn’t help laughing as well.
‘OK, good,’ he said. ‘Now do it again. This time without the exaggerated shaking.’
I did the song again and it did feel better – more relaxed, and my knees seemed to behave themselves this time.
‘Good,’ he said when I’d finished. ‘See, what you resist, persists. Don’t resist it. Before you go in on Saturday, have a good shake and tremble. Let rip, wibble wobble like mad. Shake it all out of your arms, your hands, your legs. That way, you’ll get it out of your system.’
Cat sang next and he had some good advice for her as well. ‘OK, Cat, you sing well too,’ he said. ‘But try and put a bit more emotion into the words. Really think about what you’re singing. Feel it.’
By the time, he’d finished with us, we both felt way better. Loads more confident.
‘This time, I feel ready,’ I said to Cat as we cycled home together. ‘I can’t wait.’
TALK ABOUT sulky! Jade insisted on going in the front on the way up to London. Mrs Macey wanted Mac to go in the passenger seat, because he was the tallest and needed the leg room, but he said he didn’t care. So Mac, Cat and I had to squash into the back seat. Then Jade hardly said a word the whole way, except to complain.
‘Could we open a window? It’s too hot.’
‘Could we close the window? It’s too cold.’
‘I’m hungry.’
‘I’m thirsty.’
‘I need a wee.’
We didn’t mind too much, though, as we had a really good laugh in the back, singing daft songs at the top of our voices. I felt great. Term was over and we were off to the big city.
‘Do you mind?’ said Jade at one point when we were singing our own version of ‘Reach for the Sky’ in Scottish accents. ‘Some of us are taking this competition seriously. I can’t think with you lot caterwauling in the back.’
Mac made a face at the back of her head and began to sing his version of ‘Hang the DJ’ in an Indian accent.
‘Mum, Mum, tell them, will you?’ Jade whined to her mother.
‘Keep it down,’ said Mrs Macey, but I could see in the car mirror that she was smiling.
We tried to be quiet for a bit after that, then Cat got a fit of giggles which started me off, then Mac.
‘Mac,’ moaned Jade.
‘Oh shut it, prissy-pants,’ said Mac.
‘Nappy-bucket,’ said Jade.
‘Marsupial,’ said Mac. ‘Moaning Minnie.’
‘Mac, cut it out,’ said Mrs Macey.
‘But Mum, she started it,’ Mac objected.
‘And you’re going to finish it,’ said Mrs Macey. ‘Both of you, act your ages.’
Mac pretended to dribble in the back and that set Cat and I off laughing again and Jade looked even crosser and folded her arms and legs tightly. She looked really miserable. Oops, I thought, she really wishes we weren’t here. I used to think it would be nice to have brothers and sisters; it can be lonely being an only child sometimes. Not after today, though, after listening to Mac and Jade wind each other up like crazy. I thanked my lucky stars I was an only child.
All Jade’s moaning was soon forgotten when we reached the big city. I had come up on a school trip to London from Bristol when I was about seven, but I didn’t remember much. Now it looked awesome, as different to Cornwall as you could get. Like another country, I thought as I took in the traffic, the buses, the crowds hurrying home from work, the shops . . . and the shops. Wow. I was tempted to go and cruise them for something special to wear for the auditions, but then I reminded myself that I might get through even further in the competition so I’d better hang on to what money I had.
After a while, the heavy traffic petered out and we reached some lovely tree-lined streets with big old houses.
‘This is Hampstead,’ said Mac. ‘We’re almost there. Dad moved last month to a flat near Highgate tube, so it will be easy in the morning if he can’t drop us.’
When we reached Mr Macey’s flat, Mrs Macey didn’t get out of the car. Mac’s mum and dad had only been divorced for a year or so and it was still a bit weird between them. Mac got out and fetched the bags from the boot and Cat and I helped him carry them in. Mr Macey came out as we unloaded and said something to Mrs Macey while she sat stony-faced in the car. I couldn’t hear what he said, but I could tell by his body language that he wasn’t comfortable. Mac glanced over at them a few times. I knew he wished that they’d never got divorced because it meant he’d had to leave London and all his mates.
‘You OK?’ I asked as I hauled a bag on to the front steps.
He shrugged. ‘Yeah. Same old, same old.’ Then he carried the bags inside. ‘I’ll take our stuff into our room in a mo.’
I’d told Mum and Dad that Cat and I were going to sleep on the floor in Jade’s room. I don’t think they’d have agreed to let me sleep in Mac’s room. But he’d insisted he’d behave so we’d arranged that Cat was going to sleep on Jade’s floor in her sleeping bag and Mac was going to sleep on his floor and let me have his bed.
However, as soon as we got inside, Cat came over to me and pleaded. ‘Don’t make me sleep with her, please. Can’t I come in with you and Mac?’
‘Sure,’ I said. I wouldn’t have wanted to share with Jade either. ‘She probably snores anyway.’
‘I heard that,’ said Jade, coming in the front door. ‘And I do not snore. And I’m very happy to have my room to myself. It wasn’t my idea to bring you two along. Mac, Mum wants to say goodbye.’
Mac went out and returned a few minutes later. His dad seemed nice and more relaxed after Mrs Macey had driven off. He looked a lot like Mac, same dimple on his chin, blue eyes and a friendly face. ‘So, you lot, what would you like to do tonight?’
‘Pizza,’ said Mac.
‘I have to rehearse,’ said Jade, flouncing off upstairs. ‘And I don’t want to be disturbed.’
‘No problem there,’ said Mac.
‘Pizza it is, then,’ said Mr Macey. ‘You know I can’t cook. So we’ll eat, then how about I get a film?’
‘Great,’ said Cat and I. We’d already decided we’d go over the songs once that night, then we’d relax so we were fresh for the morning.
Everything was going really well until bedtime. Cat and I went up and got changed and Mac stayed downstairs to catch up with his dad. When he came up half an hour later, he didn’t look happy.
‘What’s up?’ I asked.
‘Nothing,’ he said. But he looked really down. What on earth could have happened in half an hour? I wondered.
‘Come on, Mac,’ said Cat. ‘Spill. We’re your mates, you can tell us.’
Mac sat on the end of the bed. ‘Oh, it’s probably nothing. Just, well, Dad’s gone and got himself a stupid girlfriend. He wants Jade and me to go out with him tomorrow night and meet her. I don’t want to go.’
‘Why not?’ I asked. ‘She might be really nice.’
‘Nah,’ said Mac. ‘She’s causing problems already. Like I’ve come up here to see my dad and already he’s saying I have to make my own arrangements for Sunday night. Apparently she’s an actress and he’s going to some play and after-production party with her. I mean, what’s the point of coming up to see him if he’s not going to be here? Then it’ll be Monday and Mum will be back to pick us up.’
‘Well, we’re here,’ I said, snuggling up to him.
‘Yeah, but you won�
��t always be. And I can just see it. I know exactly what’s going to happen. He’ll start cancelling my visits. I’ll be in the way. He’ll probably marry her and have more babies and they’ll take my room and then they won’t want me around any more, ever.’
‘You sound like Puddleglum the marsh-wiggle in the Narnia books,’ I said. ‘Only seeing the worst. Come on, Mac, it might not be so bad. You might like her.’
‘Yeah,’ said Cat. ‘Like when Dad first started going out with Jen, I was all like, Ohmigod, I don’t know if I like this, but it turned out to be the best thing ever. She’s great and it’s good to see Dad happy again. Parents have to get on with their lives as well.’
‘Yeah but your mum died,’ said Mac. ‘My mum and dad got divorced so it’s different. And what about Mum? Now she’ll never have him back.’
‘Does she want him back?’ I asked.
‘Well, not at the moment,’ said Mac. ‘But I thought it was only a matter of time. They used to get on really well. Now this has ruined everything.’
Sometimes advice is not what’s required, I thought as I put my arms round him. Sometimes all you need is a hug and something to distract you. Poor Mac. It’s not like him to be sulky and negative, but then I don’t think I’d like it if my mum and dad split up and had new partners either. God, I hope it doesn’t happen. Mustn’t think those thoughts, I told myself. I have to be positive for the morning.
‘Come on,’ I said, climbing into bed as Mac struggled to get comfortable in his sleeping bag on the floor. ‘Let’s all sleep on it. Big day tomorrow. Now, who’s going to tell the first ghost story?’
‘WHAT I said about the judges being nice the first time . . .’ I said to Cat when we caught up at the lunch break the next day. ‘I take it back.’
‘Tell me about it,’ she said gloomily.
Mr Macey had dropped us off at the hall behind Tottenham Court Road at nine o’clock. It was now twelve and the last three hours were possibly the most excruciating of my whole life.
After we’d arrived and registered, we were separated from the boys and split into groups of five. Then we were asked to go in, one group at a time, to see the judges. Sadly, Cat wasn’t in my group; happily, Jade wasn’t either. When we got in the hall, we all had to troop up on to the stage and stand there with the spotlight on us. It was awful – the judges didn’t say anything, just looked us up and down like we were contestants at a pet show, then they all wrote stuff on pads of paper in front of them. I felt like doing something really stupid at one point, like flashing my chest at them, then I saw that a camera crew had set up at the back of the hall and decided that my parents wouldn’t be too happy if they saw me doing something daft like that on telly.
When the judges had all had a good stare at us, they dimmed the lights, and one by one, we were called to sing our song, in front of each other as well as in front of the camera and judges. I was third up and was feeling intimidated, as the two girls before me were good, and I mean really good. The one after me was OK and the fifth one blew it all together. Worst of all, though, was that at the end of our performances the judges made no comment. I’d prepared myself for the usual insults, but total silence was much worse. Nothing. Not a ‘good’, a ‘bad’ or a ‘you’re ugly’. They just told each group, ‘We’ll let you know this afternoon when we’ve seen everyone.’
After that, everyone had to go and have lunch in a room on the first floor. It felt like we were at a funeral, not a pop competition. No one was popping here, not any more. We’d done our bubbly bit, now everyone looked anxious and deflated. Not surprising, really, considering what we’d been though.
Cat and I took a sandwich and an apple juice from the table and went to sit on a bench in a corner to talk over the events of the morning.
‘Well, at least we get a free buttie this time.’ Cat smiled weakly.
‘Consolation prize,’ I said. ‘Not a Grammy, but a cheese and tomato bap. Yeah, at least we’ll have something to show for our efforts. So how did you get on?’
‘Crap, crap, crapola,’ said Cat, shaking her head. ‘It really threw me when we had to get up in groups of five.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘It felt weird to be compared to one another like that.’
‘I guess they were looking to see if anyone stood out with star quality. I just wish I’d been in a group with smaller girls. I felt really conspicuous. All the girls in my group were tall with legs up to their armpits.’
‘Kylie’s tiny and Madonna’s not much taller,’ I said. ‘They won’t hold your height against you. Better to be tiny than enormous like me!’ I said.
‘Becca!’ said Cat. ‘You’re not enormous. You may not be a size 8, but you’re not enormous. You’re normal.’
‘Can I join you?’ said a voice to our left.
I looked up to see a boy I’d noticed on the way in. He was dark, with spiky hair and he was very, very good-looking.
‘Sure,’ I said.
‘Thanks,’ he said, taking a seat next to Cat. ‘I don’t know anyone in this round and boy, I feel like I need to talk to someone.’
‘Know what you mean,’ said Cat. ‘How were the boys’ groups?’
‘Tense. It’s like the stakes have gone way up, you know. If you don’t cut it, then kaput. I’m Elliott, by the way.’
‘Cat and Becca,’ said Cat.
‘How was your session?’ he asked.
‘About as much fun as having your arm ripped off,’ I said.
‘And being hit with the soggy end,’ said Cat.
I started laughing then. ‘So much for my fantasy about being on a Top of the Pops type show.’
‘I dunno,’ said Elliott. ‘Who knows what they’re looking for? Weren’t they happy with your song?’
‘Hard to say. It helped having the lights turned down,’ I said. ‘Then I couldn’t see the three monkeys in front of me. You know, see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. They didn’t say a word. I tried to imagine I was in my mate’s room back home and that helped a bit.’
‘So what happens now?’ said Cat. ‘They’ve seen half of us so I guess it’s going to take as long again to see the next lot.’
Elliott nodded. ‘Yeah. We wait. And we wait. And we wait. That’s why I thought I’d come and introduce myself. Didn’t want to sit here on my own, imagining the worst. So, anyone want another stale sandwich?’
We both shook our heads and he got up and went back to the food table. Cat nudged me. ‘Cute, huh?’
‘Très cute,’ I said. I’d felt a bit rotten this morning when they wouldn’t allow Mac to come in with us. He’d been sent away at the door with all the other friends and relatives and told to come back at four o’clock. So instead he’d gone off to catch up with some of his old mates. Now I was almost glad he wasn’t there. I’d have a chance to get to know the gorgeous Elliott. Fickle is thy name, Becca, I thought to myself. But I’m only going to talk to him . . .
There’s a saying that goes something like: Time is too short for those who rush, too long for those who wait. I looked at the clock again. I could have sworn it hadn’t moved since the last time I glanced up. It was like the room was standing still and the moment had become eternal. We’d learned all that we could about Elliott. Fifteen years old, Aquarius, from Manchester, three sisters, both parents teachers, staying with his aunt in Crouch End. Hobbies: tennis, surfing the Net, movies, wants to be – what else? – a pop star, plays the guitar, fave film: Road Trip.
He got the same rundown about us. We talked endlessly about the other competitions and who we’d wanted to win. By mid-afternoon, I felt I’d known Elliott all my life.
Elliott seemed to know all about the judges. ‘Martin Riley,’ he said. ‘He’s the older one. He’s a DJ and he’s been involved in the music business for years. Rumour has it, he puts up a lot of money to sponsor new bands. The one with glasses is Paul Parker – he’s a producer. He’s got some brill bands on his list. And the woman is Sarah Hardman – she manages the bands on Paul Parke
r’s list.
‘So, which of them do you think is going to be the bad guy?’ I asked.
‘Martin,’ said Elliott. ‘He’s already laid into a few of the boys for wasting their time.’
‘Thought so,’ I said. ‘He wasn’t going to let me through the first round, but the other two voted him out. Wonder what he wrote about me this morning.’
As the clock hit half past three, Cat sighed. ‘No sign of Jade. She must be in with the afternoon groups. So what shall we do? How about we play I Spy?’
‘I spy with my little eye, fifty worried-looking teenagers,’ I said. ‘It’s weird, though, with all this waiting I feel like I’ve gone from anxiety to excitement to anxiety, and now I feel, oh so what?’
At that moment, Tanya came in and clapped her hands for silence. ‘All the girls, please go into the main hall,’ she said.
My ‘oh so what?’ feeling suddenly evaporated and my tummy tightened into a knot. It was back to ‘oh God’, ‘oh argggh’, ‘oh yeah’, ‘oh no’. I think I may be cracking up, I thought as I followed the others in and wondered if they were all feeling as barking mad as I was.
All fifty girls went up on stage and I stood in a line at the back with Cat.
‘OK, it’s cut-down time,’ said Paul, getting up. ‘Some of you are going to go forward to the next round. Some of you, we won’t be asking back. First, I’d like to say we’ve seen some great talent here today and you should all be very proud of yourselves
‘Blah, blah,’ Cat whispered. ‘Get on with it.’
‘So I’m going to call some names,’ Paul continued. ‘When I’ve finished, I want those girls to step forward and the rest of you to stay where you are.’
‘Ohmigod,’ I said. ‘Here we go – prolong the agony.’
The roll-call began and girls began to step forward. It was deathly quiet as no one knew which group would be carrying on and which were finished – the girls being called forward or those staying put.
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