For once Kelly looked lost for words. ‘L-L-Loser,’ she managed to stammer.
‘You can call me what you like.’ Harriet shrugged, triumph flashing in her eyes. ‘Cos you know what? I really don’t care.’
At that moment Ben came back, carrying two cans of Coke. ‘Hi, Kelly,’ he said briefly. He gave Harriet one of the cans. ‘Here,’ he said, taking her hand.
It seemed to be the last straw for Kelly. Looking like she was about to explode with fury she stomped off.
Ben stared after her in surprise. ‘What’s up with her?’
‘Nothing,’ Harriet said. She smiled shyly at Ben. ‘Thanks for the drink.’
Ben smiled back. ‘That’s OK.’ Their eyes met and I felt my heart swell.
Wow. Could things get any better?
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Kelly left almost immediately. I grinned as I watched her flounce out of the hall with Leanne and Rachel. Something told me she wouldn’t be bothering Harriet much any more. Ben hardly left Harriet’s side and she had a constant smile on her face. It was brilliant seeing her look so happy. When Dad arrived to collect me I managed to drag her away from Ben for a few minutes.
‘I’ve got to go but I want all the details tomorrow,’ I told her.
‘What, all the details?’ she teased.
‘Yes, all the details,’ I said meaningfully.
She grinned. ‘OK. I’ll see you after the play. Good luck.’
‘Thanks.’ My stomach did a double flip. ‘I think I’m going to need it.’
Mum made me go to bed as soon as I got home but I couldn’t sleep. At half eleven, I heard Jessica come home from the Junction.
Hearing her coming up the stairs, I went to my bedroom door. ‘Hi.’
‘Still awake?’ she said, yawning. ‘How did the quiz go?’
‘Great — we won. What was the Junction like?’ I asked eagerly. ‘How was Tom’s band?’
‘They were really good,’ Jess enthused. ‘Everyone liked them. I’m sure they’ll be asked to play again.’
‘Brilliant,’ I said, really pleased for Tom.
‘Tom’s still there celebrating,’ Jessica went on. She shook her head. ‘You should’ve seen him, Soph. He was like a rock star. He had all these girls hanging around him afterwards.’ She grinned wickedly. ‘Zak wasn’t too pleased, as you can imagine.’
I grinned back. ‘Good.’ Zak was the arrogant lead singer who Jessica had had a thing with in the summer. He was the biggest poser ever.
‘You know, I reckon he’ll be going straight to the hairdresser tomorrow, having his hair cut like Tom’s,’ Jessica said. ‘In fact, I bet Nick, Raj and Oily all do. Tom looked the coolest of them by far.’
My brother. A cool rock star. Wow! Maybe Ally’s dream of him being on Top of the Pops wasn’t so far-fetched after all.
Jess yawned again. ‘Anyway, I’m knackered,’ she said, heading towards her room. ‘I’m going to bed.’
‘Yeah,’ I said, sighing. ‘I suppose I should try and go to sleep too.’
Jessica paused. ‘Don’t worry about tomorrow,’ she said. ‘You’ll be great, Sophie.’
‘Yeah, right,’ I muttered.
To my surprise, Jessica came over and hugged me. ‘You will be,’ she said softly. ‘You always are.’
‘Thanks,’ I mumbled.
Feeling comforted but not convinced, I went back to bed.
By the time I arrived at the theatre for my dress rehearsal the next day I was so nervous, and my legs were wobbling so much as I walked, that I thought I was going to fall over.
‘Good luck,’ Mum said, giving me a hug at stage door. ‘We’ll all be in the audience cheering you on.’ She kissed me. ‘See you later.’
Suddenly I knew just how all those kings and queens who got beheaded felt as they walked up to the beheading block. As I walked slowly into the theatre, my stomach felt like it had butterflies the size of elephants flapping inside it. I was going to be sick. I just knew I was going to be sick.
To my surprise, the theatre was very quiet. The crew must have gone on a lunchbreak. The scenery was all set out for scene one. There was no one around. I hesitated and then walked on to the stage.
The auditorium was deserted, the chair seats all folded up. I looked around — at the high ceiling with its faded gold decorations, at the modern black lighting box at the back, at the red-curtained entrances. It was weird. For the last two days the place had been a bustle of activity and now it seemed so quiet and still. The air had an almost expectant feel as if it was waiting for something to happen. A shiver ran over my skin as I realized how old the theatre was. How many people had stood on this stage? How many plays had there been?
I took a deep breath of the people- and scenery-scented air, and felt a flicker of happiness ignite deep inside my stomach. It grew inside me, the flicker becoming a burning flame until it swept over me and knowledge exploded like a shower of fireworks into my brain. This was where I belonged. On a stage. In a theatre. Somewhere where I could act.
Suddenly my nerves dissolved. I wasn’t scared of doing the play. I was excited — more excited than I had ever been in my life.
A grin spread across my face and I turned and ran off the stage, down the steps and into the green room.
‘What’s the hurry?’ Velda said in surprise as I barged through the door.
‘It’s the dress rehearsal!’ I exclaimed, feeling like every cell of my body was alight. Ignoring Velda’s startled expression, I spun round. ‘Isn’t it great?’
My excitement didn’t last for long enough. As I got ready, my nerves began slowly, but relentlessly, to creep back. By the time I was waiting in the darkness of the wings with everyone else for the play to start, my heart was thumping and my palms were sweaty. What if I went wrong in the dances? What if I fell over?
I nervously wiped my hands on the skirt of my dress. The orchestra began to play the overture — a three-minute mixture of all the songs that were in the show. My heart jumped into my throat. This was it. We were about to start.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned. It was Dizzy. ‘Stay relaxed, Sophie,’ she said softly. ‘Don’t worry about getting the dances right. Just go on that stage and be Lucy.’ Her eyes stared into mine. ‘Do you understand? Don’t act — just be.’
I nodded slowly. Just be. Dizzy’s words made sense. When I was acting well I never felt like I was acting; I felt like I became the person I was pretending to be.
‘Go for it,’ Dizzy smiled. ‘I’ll see you afterwards.’
She slipped away. The music changed. The heavy red curtains started to open and then the opening dance began.
It went perfectly but I hardly had time to whisper well done as the chorus ran off the stage before I was on.
The lights hit me. Colette, Jack and Mark were there and suddenly, standing on the stage again, looking at them in costume, I forgot about trying hard. I forgot about acting. I did what Dizzy had said and I became Lucy.
The lines sprang to my lips as if they had always been in my head and, even more amazingly, so did the steps of the dance. By the time of Asian’s death scene, one of the biggest scenes at the end of the play, I was lost in another world. As I laid my head against the thick mane of Clive’s costume, I felt real tears stinging my eyes.
‘Oh, Asian, don’t be dead,’ I sobbed. ‘Please, please don’t be dead!’
I could see tears on Colette’s cheeks, too, as we held hands and sang for the loss of our brave dead friend.
As our voices rose together I was vaguely aware of people sniffing in the darkness of the auditorium.
Scene followed scene until suddenly we were singing the final jubilant song. On the last notes, the curtains closed. There was a pause and then they opened again to the sound of people clapping. For a moment I wondered whether we were going to go into the routine of bows that we had rehearsed the day before, but then the lights came up on the auditorium. I could see Dizzy and Claire and quite a few of the
stage crew and front-of-house people from the theatre standing on their feet and clapping.
The next minute Claire was hurrying on to the stage. ‘That,’ she exclaimed, her eyes shining, ‘was fantastic!’
I exchanged delighted looks with Colette, who was standing next to me.
‘It was absolutely amazing,’ Claire said. She strode over to me. ‘Sophie, you were perfect!’ she said, hugging me.
I was perfect! I felt like I was going to explode with delight.
‘In fact,’ she said, her eyes sweeping round the stage, ‘everyone was great!’ Her smile broadened as we all exchanged delighted looks. ‘Now, all you’ve got to do is be that good tonight!’
The time between the dress rehearsal and the evening performance raced past. Costumes were whisked off us for cleaning and ironing, and the stage was quickly reset. As the stage crew raced around, all dressed in black clothes, the cast wandered about in dressing gowns, eating tea and redoing their make-up. Good luck cards and bouquets of flowers started being delivered from stage door. I was astonished when one of the bouquets was for me.
I read the card tied to the pink, purple and blue flowers: To Sophie, our shining star. Remember we’ll always love you. Hugs and kisses, Mum, Dad, Jessica and Tom.
I had to blink back my tears.
‘They’re gorgeous,’ Colette said, coming over. ‘Can we put them in our dressing room?’
‘Of course,’ I said, and we began to hunt around for a vase. In the end we found an old pint glass and filled it up with water.
‘Uh-oh, looks like we need another one,’ Colette said as Fred, the stage doorkeeper, came down with another bunch of flowers — pink carnations this time — and presented them to me.
‘They’re for me as well!’ I gasped.
Fred smiled. ‘Looks like you’re popular.’
To Sophie, I read. We’ll be cheering you on. Love from Ally, Harriet and Eve. I smiled. I had the best family and friends in the world!
Just then the tannoy chirped and Lauren’s voice came crackling out, sounding like an announcer at an airport. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is your half hour call. Half an hour please!’
Half an hour. Excitement whooshed through me. This time it was for real!
The TV monitor beside the tannoy flickered and came on. The picture on the screen showed the stage and through the speakers we could hear the sound of people beginning to arrive into the auditorium.
‘We should get dressed,’ Colette said quickly. ‘Come on!’
The half hour flew by and almost before I knew it, Lauren was calling for us to go up to the stage. We hurried up the dark stairs. From the auditorium came the sound of people talking, sweet papers rustling and the orchestra warming up. A trumpet tooted and then a flute trilled. In the wings, at the side of the stage, the stage crew were waiting. It was really dark and, standing with the others, my heart was pounding so fast it felt as if it was going to jump out of my chest.
‘Have you heard the news?’ Mark said, coming up to Colette and me. ‘There’re three journalists from national newspapers in tonight.’
I so didn’t need to know that.
‘Really?’ Colette gasped.
‘And at least two casting agents.’
‘Ssh!’ Velda hissed. ‘Go on into your starting position.’
Mark hurried away to the other side of stage.
‘Break a leg!’ Colette whispered to me as there was a sudden hush and then the orchestra burst into the overture.
‘You too,’ I squeaked like a strangled mouse. Colette had told me you never said good luck in a theatre, instead you tell someone to break a leg. It’s something weird to do with not tempting fate.
We fell silent. Every second seemed to take an hour.
I had to keep reminding myself to breathe. Every line from the play seemed to have disappeared from my head. I couldn’t do this. I really couldn’t.
The music changed. The curtains opened and bam! The show started with the first dance. I watched, entranced, as the dancers on stage performed perfectly. And then suddenly, ‘Sophie, you’re on!’ Velda hissed.
Almost before I knew it, I was running on to the stage and into a blaze of light.
That afternoon, I’d thought that things couldn’t get any better than the dress rehearsal. OK, how wrong could I be? Performing in front of a packed auditorium was a totally different experience. It was one hundred and fifty per cent — sorry, Harriet — fantastic!
As the curtain fell on the final song the audience erupted with claps and cheers. I stood on stage absolutely stunned. It was over. We’d done it. I hadn’t messed up!
‘Sophie! Come on!’
Colette grabbed my hand and dragged me into line just as the curtain was sweeping up. The lights hit me and so did the noise. I’d never heard so much clapping.
We all bowed. As we straightened up, I caught sight of Ally and Harriet three rows back. They were standing up cheering. But it wasn’t just them. There was Eve, and Mum, Dad, Jess and Tom. And Mr Chase and Emily, Mr and Mrs Swannick and Ally’s twin brothers, our next-door neighbours, people from my class in school. In fact, almost everyone I knew seemed to be there and they were all clapping as if they were never going to stop.
In that instant I knew that all the stress and the tension of the rehearsals had been worth it. Standing on the stage and seeing my friends and family looking so proud of me was one of the best moments of my life.
One of the best. The other was when I looked at Ally and Harriet and all my family, and realized that even if I’d messed up they would still have been clapping and cheering me. It didn’t matter to them how famous I was or how perfectly I acted. They were clapping because I was me.
Happiness exploded through my brain and as we took a final bow and the noise rose to a crescendo, I wondered what was going to happen next in my life. There was the rest of the play to do and then what? A film? A TV show? I didn’t know, and as the curtain began to fall I suddenly realized I didn’t care. Things would happen, life would change, but I knew that whatever came along my friends and family would be there for me.
My face split into a wide grin. Now that really was the best feeling of all!
Centre Stage: A Novel Page 16
