by Anne Fine
Some of those listening couldn’t help noticing there was a shade of bitterness in Bonny’s voice as it came through the loudspeaker. ‘Yes, there are acting classes, but they don’t start till next week.’
Once again, Mrs Opalene found herself facing unladylike chaos.
‘Acting!’
‘Yes!’
‘Oh, I’d adore to learn to act!’
‘And are there painting classes, too? If there were, I’d go to them. Then I could paint Amethyst an even creepier forest backdrop.’
‘Saturdays,’ Bonny informed Suki. ‘Two till four. Bring your own paints.’
‘Sarajane should take singing. Or choir. If I had a voice as lovely as hers, I wouldn’t want to waste it.’
‘Tuesdays, at six.’
‘I’ve always wanted to learn juggling, personally.’
‘Thursdays, from January till April.’
‘Did you see the tornado? And the prairie? And the swamp full of crocodiles? I’d love to know more about those sorts of things.’
‘Natural geography,’ Bonny informed her through the loudspeakers. ‘On Wednesdays at lunchtime, repeated Friday nights.’
Mrs Opalene saw her class melting away before her eyes.
‘Girls! Girls!’ she said. ‘Perhaps Pearl’s right. Maybe it would be nice to—’ she wondered how to put it ‘—broaden out a little.’
‘What? Learn a few other things? Like how to work the lights, and the sound?’
‘And make people laugh?’
‘And tell jokes?’
‘And juggle!’
‘Excellent! In that case, I’ll certainly be coming back.’
‘Me, too!’
‘And me.’
Mrs Opalene looked thrilled. ‘Really, dears? Oh, I’m so pleased. And maybe, over time, we’ll get to find extra things to interest everyone.’
A dreamy look spread over Cooki’s face. ‘I’ll tell you what interested me. Those astonishing fireworks. They were breathtaking!’
‘My breath,’ Cristalle reminded her. ‘I was so terrified, I could hardly finish my lullaby.’
‘Oh, but they looked so real. I loved them.’ The dreamy look sharpened. ‘Do you suppose that we could broaden out enough to learn how to make fireworks, Mrs Opalene?’
Mrs Opalene blanched. ‘No, dear. I don’t think so. I fear, if we took up with flashes and explosions, we’d end up stepping on Dr Hooper’s toes.’
‘Who’s Dr Hooper?’
‘Chemistry,’ Bonny informed them. ‘Tuesdays, at five.’ She couldn’t help adding, with the tinge of bitterness they’d all come to recognize, ‘But that’s another class that doesn’t start till September.’
‘That’s fine. I’ll wait,’ said Cooki. ‘Do you want to come with me, Angelica?’
‘No.’ Angelica was adamant. ‘I’m definitely off to do Geography.’
How odd, thought Bonny, still in the control room. Only this morning they’d have been wishing one another away sick in bed, or off on holiday, so there’d be fewer of them out to win the glistering tiara. Now they were asking one another to come along to these new classes – even the ones who hadn’t seemed good friends before.
‘Lulu? Will you come?’
Lulu was torn. ‘The fireworks were lovely. But, no. I’m still going to choose painting.’
Mrs Opalene looked crestfallen. Suki consoled her. ‘Never mind. You mustn’t worry. You’ll still have plenty of people. Because, now we won’t just be walking in boring old beauty all the time, a lot of our friends will probably start coming too.’
Mrs Opalene clasped her hands eagerly. ‘Oh, do you think so?’
‘I’m sure so. Now that we won’t be spending all our time suffering to be beautiful.’
Cooki looked up. ‘If we don’t have to suffer to get in those frocks all the time, then I’ll come back to Charm School as well as Chemistry.’ Under her breath, she added mischievously, ‘And I’ll have two slices of pizza, if I’m hungry!’
‘I’ll carry on coming as well!’
‘Me, too!’
‘And me!’
Mrs Opalene cheered up. ‘Well, dears,’ she said. ‘Perhaps it’s all for the best. I have been giving these classes for years and years. And times do change. If you’re all busy doing all these other interesting things, you simply won’t have quite so much time to sit with your elbows in lemon halves, and wander round the shops looking for just the right thing.’
Her eye fell on Toby, holding Sarajane’s hand.
‘Though I do hope, whatever you’re all busy doing, you’ll always try and remember how to behave.’
A thought struck Araminta suddenly.
‘Won’t we have to change the Charm School motto, now we won’t be suffering any more?’
Mrs Opalene looked anxious. ‘Oh, dear! Oh, dear!’
‘I know!’ cried Lulu. ‘How about, Handsome is as Handsome does?’
‘What about, Beauty is in the eye of the Beholder?’ called out Esmeralda.
‘I quite like, Beauty is Truth, Truth Beauty,’ quoted Cooki.
Horrified, Mrs Opalene put up her hand to stem the rising tide of heresy. ‘Shall we leave that till later, dears? For the moment, let’s just decide who we’re going to crown the Supreme Queen, and then we’ll do all these other things next time.’
Next time! Bonny looked round at the chaos in the control room and wondered what on earth the famous Maura would think of all the mess when she came back. Leaping off her swivel chair, she hastily started putting things away in boxes. She didn’t want Maura complaining to Mrs Opalene. Mrs Opalene might not be keen to have her back.
And she might want to come. After all, if Charm School was, as she hoped, about to turn into Fun School, it would be a wonderful way of spending time with Araminta. Though they might even turn out to be in the same school… In the same class, even! Thinking how wonderful this would be, Bonny stuffed one slide and stencil and cassette after another into what she hoped were the right places. She was still busy putting things away when Araminta burst in.
‘Ah!’ Bonny joked. ‘Just the person I need. Miss Tidy by Nature!’
But Araminta wasn’t listening. Rushing to a little cabinet on the wall, she unlocked it, and carefully drew out a beautiful sparkling tiara set on a flat satin cushion spangled with shimmering crystal beads.
Holding it reverently, she walked past Bonny, busy on her knees, and carried it back to Mrs Opalene.
Mrs Opalene held it high.
‘I wish there was one for everybody,’ she said. ‘You all gave such fine performances. It’s so hard to decide. And we never even got round to doing the catwalk parade, which might have helped me choose the winner properly.’
‘We could still do that now,’ suggested Angelica.
Mrs Opalene looked down at them all, and shuddered. ‘I don’t think so, dears. You all look a little bit—’ the word was ‘scruffy’, but it seemed so rude ‘—unpolished. And I’m afraid I somehow mislaid my marking pad while that frightful wolverine was growling at Amethyst. So, dears, I’m horribly afraid I’m not quite sure who ought to be—’
But Araminta was on her feet again in her excitement.
‘It’s obvious, Mrs Opalene! There’s someone here who’s won it fair and square. Amethyst made us scream with terror, stuck in that awful forest. And Serena made us laugh ourselves silly, tumbling into that well. And Sarajane made us cry with her beautiful singing.’ In the interests of honesty, she amended this. ‘Well, some of us,’ she added politely. ‘But who made all of us do it?’
They were silent. In their heart of hearts, every single one of them knew that, but for one person, at this very moment they’d have been mincing up and down the catwalk in their pretty frocks, trying to look beautiful enough to win the glistering tiara. And instead of bouncing up and down excitedly on their seats, as they were now, making interesting plans for the future, all except one of them would have gone home and sobbed into her pillows, feeling nothing but clumsy,
or podgy, or ugly.
It was a struggle. But they’d had a brilliant afternoon. And there were good times to come.
‘All right. That’s fair enough.’
‘Yes. I agree.’
‘She did a spectacular show.’
‘Those bats!’
‘Those rats!’
‘Personally, I loved the tumbleweed. Do you suppose I should be thinking of classes in Botany?’
Deep in her boxes, Bonny overheard the word ‘Botany’ coming through the sound system. ‘Mondays,’ she called out automatically. ‘Between six and eight, with optional Saturday field trips.’
Once again, Mrs Opalene had visions of a vanishing class.
‘Right, then,’ she said hastily. ‘Since you obviously all agree, the glistering tiara goes to—’
Everyone shouted it together.
‘Miss Sparky!’
Startled, Bonny looked up from her tidying.
‘What?’
‘Miss Sparky!’ Mrs Opalene called out again. ‘Our own Supreme Queen! Time to be crowned, dear, with our lovely glistering tiara.’
All the blood drained from Bonny’s face.
‘Oh, no! Oh, no!’
Staying on all fours, she made for the door. The knees of her jeans picked up huge dusty smudges, but she didn’t care. She just kept her head down and carried on scuttling towards the huge green glowing sign that promised EXIT.
Two leggy pillars suddenly barred her way.
Toby.
‘And where do you think you’re going?’
‘Home!’ Bonny whispered. ‘Quickly! Before they get me!’
‘They’re not planning on hanging you,’ Toby pointed out. ‘They simply want to make you Supreme Queen.’
‘Well, it’s ridiculous.’
‘No, it isn’t.’
‘Yes, it is!’
‘Well,’ Toby said judiciously. ‘I do agree it is a little strange that you should be the winner.’ A soppy smile spread over his face. ‘I mean, it is a bit difficult to see how anyone could have chosen you after that touching and heart-rending song about Lord Henry—’
‘Excuse me,’ Bonny interrupted tartly. ‘But if it weren’t for me, your precious Sarajane would have sung a song that goes, “Drip, drip, drip”.’
‘But that was just your mistake.’
He was quite right, of course. But he’d annoyed her. For a moment she couldn’t think of any suitable retort. And then Mrs Opalene’s words came back to her, about reaching the heights of fashion. And she told him loftily, ‘On the contrary. It was a combination of vision, and planning, and hard, hard work.’
He looked impressed. ‘Oh, well,’ he said. ‘In that case, fair enough. After all, Sarajane probably has a whole lifetime of singing prizes in front of her.’ He blushed. ‘In fact, she says she’s going to let me accompany her on my violin. So, now I really need a better one, I won’t mind doing this boring job so much each Saturday.’
‘If Mrs Opalene’s classes go the way I think they’re going,’ Bonny said, ‘your job won’t be so boring in future.’
‘True.’ He looked delighted. ‘Well, then,’ he said. ‘You seem to have sorted out just about everybody in one short day. I definitely think that you deserve the glistering tiara.’
Bonny thought about it for a moment. She looked at all the lamps and equipment she’d worked so hard to learn how to handle, so they could have their brilliant show. And she thought of the changes she’d made for them. And she thought of Araminta.
‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘I think that I deserve it, too. I’ve earned it fair and square. I’ll wear it with pride.’
‘Good,’ Toby said. ‘And Sarajane can be crowned with my admiration instead.’
‘That’s nice,’ said Bonny. ‘She’ll look good in that.’ And, laughing, she walked out as Toby opened the door for her, bowing like a footman.
Everyone was waiting. Mrs Opalene beamed. ‘Ah, there you are, dear! It is a pity we don’t have time to dress you up a bit, just for the presentation. You would have looked such a treat in Cindy-Lou’s Blushing Rose frock. But, never mind. We must just make the best of things.’
Obligingly, Bonny dusted the knees of her jeans before walking up the steps.
Mrs Opalene held the glistering tiara aloft. Its rhinestones sparkled and the sequins sewn onto its velvet rim twinkled in the gleam of the one spotlight Bonny hadn’t yet switched off.
‘It gives me inordinate pleasure,’ said Mrs Opalene, ‘to place this precious crowning glory onto the head of our most deserving Supreme Queen: Miss Sparky!’
None of them knew what inordinate meant. But they cheered anyway as Mrs Opalene wedged the tiara firmly on the unruly hedge of Bonny’s hair, and Cindy-Lou took a photo.
‘There, dear! Don’t you look nice?’
Bonny could see from her reflection in every mirror round the room that hers would be the first of all the photographs in the corridor outside to show a grimy face with unbrushed hair wearing the prized tiara.
Her look of triumph, though, would fit in very well.
‘Thank you,’ she told them all. ‘Thank you. I’ve had a wonderful day. I can’t remember when I last had so much fun. I’m really glad I chose to come to Charm School.’
‘Are you, dear?’
Mrs Opalene was thrilled.
Bonny couldn’t help hugging her. ‘Yes. Yes, I am. And I’ll be back again next time, if you’ll let me.’
‘My dear, we’ll be honoured,’ Mrs Opalene said. ‘Honoured and charmed.’
The rest of the afternoon passed in a flash of tidying, and laughing, and swapping jokes and stories, and putting away chairs, and exchanging phone numbers and addresses. It seemed to Bonny it was half an hour at most before Mrs Opalene finally ushered the last of them out into the corridor and along to the lift.
‘Bye, dears! Take good care! See you all next time!’
‘Bye, Mrs Opalene! Bye!’
On the ground floor, Bonny spilled out of the lift, giggling, surrounded by chattering girls. Beside the desk, Mrs Bramble stood holding her certificate, and talking to the lady who had sold them their tickets. Both of them stared as Bonny rushed over to greet them. Neither could understand how that sour and resentful creature from whom they’d parted that morning could have turned into the bubbling, excited person in front of them now.
‘Mum! Mum! Come and meet Minty!’ She pointed round the group of girls. ‘And Cooki! And Lulu! And Esmeralda! And Cindy-Lou! And—’
Mrs Bramble waved her certificate in Bonny’s face. Snatching it, Bonny inspected her mother’s name on the dotted line, then hugged her proudly. ‘You did it! Brilliant! Well done!’
‘What about you?’ asked Mrs Bramble. And then, unable to deny the evidence of Bonny’s shining eyes, and all the girls gathering round her, she risked the tiniest little tease.
‘A little bit better than you expected, was it?’
Bonny’s face was radiant. ‘Better? It was brilliant! I learned so much, and made so many friends. I even won their funny old glistering tiara, and I’m Miss Sparky for a whole year! And Minty’s going to phone me tonight – if the phone’s on yet. And, Mum, can I come back again next time Mrs Opalene runs Charm School? Oh, please, please, please! I’ll help unpack all the packing crates, and sort out the plates and dishes, and put things away in cupboards, and—’
She reached for her mother’s basket.
‘Oh, let me carry all those heavy accounting books. You must be tired. I’ll take these to the car.’
Mrs Bramble stared at her daughter. What on earth had happened all day up there on the third floor? What on earth was the glistering tiara? How would you get to be a Miss Sparky? And who was this Mrs Opalene, who’d weaved such magic over the miserable, sullen daughter she’d been arguing with that morning?
No time to ask now. Already Bonny was frantically waving and calling to a couple leaving arm in arm. ‘Bye, Toby! Bye, Sarajane!’ In fact, she didn’t stop waving and calling out her merry
goodbyes to her new friends till they were safely in the car.
Mrs Bramble could hardly believe it.
Only one day at Charm School.
But it worked.
MRS LAVINIA OPALENE’S TOP TIPS
FOR STYLE AND BEAUTY
Have fun!
Enjoy life with lots of different interests.
‘Miss Manners’ is important – but so are your friends.
There is no need to suffer to be beautiful!
CHARM SCHOOL
AN RHCP DIGITAL EBOOK 978 1 409 01295 5
Published in Great Britain by RHCP Digital,
an imprint of Random House Children’s Publishers UK
A Random House Group Company
This ebook edition published 2012
Copyright © Anne Fine, 1999, 2006
Illustrations copyright © Ros Asquith, 1999, 2000
First Published in Great Britain by Doubleday, 1999
The right of Anne Fine to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
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