Olivia's First Term

by Lyn Gardner

  Alicia saw Olivia’s forlorn face. “Why don’t you join us?” she said, patting the sofa beside her.

  Olivia shook her head. “I hate ballet,” she said, scowling. She got up and went into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Alicia raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She’d waited a while before poking her head around the door, but Olivia pretended to be asleep.

  Olivia had lain in bed listening to her gran and Eel laughing, and a tear of self-pity slid down her cheek. It was so unfair. She had tried to look after Eel as much as she could since their mother had died and now when she needed a bit of looking-after, Eel had abandoned her.

  “Livy, are you listening? This room’s perfect!” exclaimed Eel, bouncing up and down with excitement. “Georgia says it’s almost always free after school or at weekends because it’s too small for anything other than voice classes or one-to-ones. You can use that hook for one end of the wire, and there’s even a dusty old cupboard that no one ever opens where you can leave your suitcase. And nobody can see in if you remember to pull the blind down.”

  “The hook’s fine, but what about the other end?” asked Olivia tonelessly.

  “There!” said Eel, executing a perfect jeté towards the window and pointing to one of the iron spikes on the derelict building next door. Eel beamed. She felt very grown up, helping her big sister.

  Olivia looked at the spike through narrowed eyes. “It’ll never work,” she said doubtfully.

  “It won’t if you don’t try it,” said Eel impatiently. “What’s happened to you, Livy? You say that the only thing that would make your time here at the Swan bearable is if you can practise on the high-wire, but when I show how you can, you just make excuses.” Then she added fiercely, “I wouldn’t ever let anything stop me dancing. I’d rather die.”

  “Maybe I’ve lost my nerve, just like Dad,” said Olivia miserably.

  “No, you haven’t, you’re just feeling sorry for yourself,” returned Eel, looking at her big sister. She saw Olivia’s eyes fill with tears.

  “I’m so worried about him, Eel. I’m sure he’s planning some big stunt, and I know he hasn’t got the confidence to pull it off. It could make him do something reckless. But every time I try to talk to him about it when he rings, he changes the subject.”

  “The Great Marvello, the world’s most fearless tightrope-walker, would never do anything stupid,” said Eel confidently.

  “No, Eel, you’re right. The Great Marvello wouldn’t take a stupid risk, but Jack Marvell, penniless single father of two, might. I think he’s pretty desperate for us all to be together again, and desperate to prove to Alicia and to himself that he can do it.” Olivia sighed. “If only I could think of a way of making some money.”

  “Well, when I’m the world’s most famous dancer, I’ll have lots of money,” said Eel, clowning around to distract her sister. “But you’ll have to wait until I’m grown up, then I’ll give you all my spare millions.” She smiled, pleased with her own generosity. “Come on. Let’s see if that spike will hold.”

  “I’m too tired, Eel,” said Olivia. “All that silly prancing around all day is knackering.”

  But Eel wasn’t listening. She picked up one end of the wire and attached it to the hook. Then, holding the other end, she leaned out of the window and aimed for the spike on the building next door. She had to have a couple of goes, but at last she succeeded and clapped her own prowess. Then she moved a chair close to the wire, jumped up and wobbled along it like a jelly in a high wind.

  “See?” she said. “I’m right. It’s completely perfect.” She leapt down and curtsied to an unseen audience. Olivia walked slowly over to the wire and jumped on. She took several steps forwards and then several backwards. She did a flip, and as she straightened up again, Eel could see Olivia’s eyes shining as if she had been brought back to life after a long, long sleep, like Sleeping Beauty.

  “Eel, thank you, you’re a genius.”

  “I know,” said Eel smugly, and she did a little twirl.

  Chapter Eighteen

  An Indian summer had arrived in London. It was surprisingly hot for so late in the year. In the top rehearsal room Olivia was perched on the wire, watched by Eel, who every now and again exploded into pirouettes, whirling around the room like a dervish and admiring her reflection in the mirrors. The windows were wide open to let what little air there was into the space. The bird from the nest was sitting on the rehearsal-room window sill, pecking at the remains of a biscuit. It was becoming tamer and tamer by the day, often appearing on the verge of flying right into the room. Olivia’s face was flushed with triumph as she walked across the wire. It felt good to be back on the tightrope; it was where she had always felt most at home.

  Olivia spent every spare moment secretly practising her tightrope-walking, and although she was still unhappy and anxious about their father, when she was on the wire her misery and worry receded to a distant dull ache. Sometimes she forgot about everything and leapt along the wire as if she was flying like a bird. Even her dancing improved a little, although she was still in the lowest classes for all her dance lessons, quite alone now among the younger children because Eel had already moved up two grades.

  Olivia finished doing a tumble on the tightrope. Eel clapped appreciatively. She looked at the clock.

  “I’ve got a private dance lesson. Can you get the wire off the spike on your own?” This required real patience to ease it off each time.

  “No problem, I seem to have got the knack at last. You go, I want to practise a little more,” said Olivia.

  Eel slipped away and Olivia got back on the wire, soon lost in the effort of trying to do a particularly difficult manoeuvre that involved walking on her hands. Several times she slipped, but at last she succeeded. She jumped down from the wire, elated.

  She was startled by the sound of clapping and spun round, realising that she’d again forgotten to close the blinds on the observation glass. There had been a few times during the last week when she’d had the feeling that somebody was watching her, and she’d worried that it was Katie and her gang. But it couldn’t be Katie today, because everyone knew she was having a swimming-pool party. Olivia looked round and was confronted by a shock of red hair and the wide smile of Tom McCavity, who opened the door and sauntered in.

  “Have you been spying on me?” asked Olivia furiously. “I suppose you came to have a laugh. Everybody else does, so why shouldn’t you join in the fun too?”

  “Whoa!” said Tom, backing away with his hands raised. “You really are very fierce, Olivia Marvell. I think you probably take after your gran more than you realise.” He grinned. “Actually, I just came to get my homework diary. I left it here after voice class yesterday, and I’m very glad I did. You’re a bit of a dark horse. That was some display of tightrope-walking. It was awesome!”

  “You’re not teasing me?” said Olivia uncertainly, her voice full of suspicion. Tom shook his head vigorously.

  “Katie Wilkes-Cox said you had been in some kind of travelling freak show, but Katie’s a snobby little cow. I knew from Mr Shaw that your dad is a high-wire walker and somebody else said you’d been in a circus too, but quite honestly I doubted that. I’ve seen you dancing, and I didn’t believe that anyone who could trip over their own feet quite so often as you do could possibly be in a circus, unless perhaps they were a clown, and you always look far too serious for that.” Olivia opened her mouth indignantly, but Tom put up a hand to silence her. “But, hey, clearly I was wrong.” He beamed, and it was as if the room was full of light. “You’re brilliant. Completely amazing. Do you think you could teach me?”

  “Well, I could try,” said Olivia shyly, surprising herself.

  “Right,” said Tom. “There’s no time like the present. Let’s get started.”

  “OK,” said Olivia, getting carried along by his enthusiasm. “But it’s our secret. My gran must never find out. She hates anything to do with the circus.”

  “Oh
,” said Tom, “so you’re not her spy, then?”

  Olivia burst out laughing. “Wherever did you get that idea? It’s ludicrous. We hardly talk. I think she hates me because I don’t have a talent like Eel.”

  “Oh, but you do,” said Tom. “Everyone can dance to a greater or lesser degree. But very few people can walk the high-wire, and you’re one of them. I’m dead impressed.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  A few miles away, Georgia was lazing beside Katie’s swimming pool, sipping a sparkling peach juice. The smell of barbecuing chicken wafted across the garden. She and some of the other girls in the class had been invited to spend the day at the Wilkes-Cox home.

  “Only the select few, the people who really count,” said Katie loudly, as she handed out the invites at the end of maths on Friday morning.

  “Oh, so not the people who actually can count,” said Tom, with a wicked smile.

  Katie blushed and looked annoyed. She had hoped that nobody had noticed that she’d come bottom of the class again in a maths test. Maintaining good standards in schoolwork was part of the deal at the Swan. Pupils who fell behind in their academic classes were barred from attending auditions for professional work and couldn’t participate in the many concerts and performances that the school put on until they’d caught up.

  Katie had set her heart on being part of the Swan team this year for the Children’s Royal Spectacular, particularly as it meant appearing on TV. She wasn’t going to let an inability to grasp basic algebra stand in the way of stardom. Her dad had said that algebra didn’t matter and he was quite sure that Miss Swan must make exceptions for really talented pupils. She barged past Tom to give Georgia her invitation.

  “For my special and loyal friend, Georgia,” said Katie, pointedly. Georgia felt as if Katie’s words were more of a threat than a compliment, and a look of uncertainty crossed her face. Katie grabbed her hard by the wrist, and hissed, “No excuses, Georgia,” so intimidatingly that Georgia felt almost frightened.

  Now, as she sat by the swimming pool listening to the other girls chatting all around her, she realised that she felt intensely lonely. Katie’s sly behaviour towards Olivia was making her feel more and more uncomfortable.

  Georgia felt sorry for Olivia and admired the way she never answered back to any of the taunts. After her encounter with Olivia in the practice room, she had suggested to Katie that they stop picking on her, but Katie had looked at Georgia as if she was something the cat had brought in and said, “Please yourself, but don’t expect me to be your friend. You only want to suck up to her because she’s old Swan’s granddaughter. Unfortunately, she’s the talentless one. That Eel girl may be worth making a friend of, although I sincerely doubt she’s half as gifted as people say she is, but Liver Duckface Swan is a total waste of space. She can’t dance, she can’t sing. She can’t do anything. I reckon when old Swan eventually twigs quite how useless she is, she’ll pack her off to school somewhere else. She won’t want her holding back the children with real star potential like us.”

  Georgia was so thrilled by Katie’s “like us” that she let the matter drop. She knew that she was a coward for going along with Katie and, even though she tried to play as small a part as possible in tormenting Olivia, she felt guilty every time they were in a room together. Once or twice she had given Olivia a rueful little smile, not at all surprised to get back only a stony stare.

  Chapter Twenty

  Georgia trailed her fingers in the pool and tuned back in to what the other girls were saying.

  “We’re going to Egypt for Christmas,” said Aeysha.

  “Oh, I’ve been there,” said Katie. “It was boring. Just sand and history. It’s the pits.”

  “I think the pyramids are interesting—” started Georgia, seeing Aeysha’s face drop, but Katie talked over her.

  “We’re going to Dubai,” said Katie. “It’s going to be awesome. My dad’s got business there. It’s supposed to be fantastic. The height of luxury. It’s got the tallest building in the world. Totally.” She turned to Georgia. “So what thrilling things have you got planned, little Miss Georgia Jones?”

  The tone was sweet but Georgia knew the question was treacherous. She squirmed. She wouldn’t be going anywhere. The best she could hope for was that her mum might manage a few days off work and that they would go to some museums together. Her favourite was the V&A because sometimes there were exhibitions of costumes and intricate miniature designs for stage sets. Georgia enjoyed these days out with her mum, riding on the top deck of the bus together and eating her mum’s special cheese and Marmite doorstep sandwiches and home-made brownies. They laughed a lot together, and it always reminded Georgia of a time when her mother hadn’t looked so tired and worried.

  She opened her mouth to say, “Nothing much,” but then she glimpsed a strange expression on Katie’s face. It was almost triumphant, as if she was really enjoying making Georgia feel small, and poor, and bad about herself. Suddenly Georgia found herself saying, “Actually, my mum’s taking me to New York. We’re flying first class and staying in a five-star hotel.”

  “Wicked!” said Aeysha. “You are lucky. That easily tops Egypt and Dubai.”

  Georgia felt a feeling of warmth seep through her. It was nice being the interesting and glamorous one for a change, the centre of attention, not just someone always on the edge of things.

  “Yes, that’s the best,” agreed the others enviously; all except Katie, who looked at Georgia through narrowed eyes. “I thought your mum didn’t have any money,” she said.

  “Wherever did you get that idea, Katie?” said Georgia. “She’s loaded. We just don’t like to talk about. My mum thinks it’s vulgar to talk about money and splash out on big houses and cars.”

  It was the most effective piece of acting that Georgia had done in her entire life. She was saved from further explanation by Katie’s dad announcing that the barbecue was ready and inviting everyone to load their plates with chicken and burgers, and help themselves to baked potatoes, corn on the cob and bowls of coleslaw. Georgia made sure she sat as far away from Katie as possible, but every time she looked up she saw Katie staring at her, smiling her dangerous, cat-like smile, and she felt worried.

  Georgia knew she ought to confess that of course she wasn’t going to New York, explain that she had only been joking and that she and her mum were poorer than the average church mouse – she couldn’t even afford new jazz shoes, for heaven’s sake! But Aeysha was saying how envious she was of Georgia going to the Big Apple, how she had always dreamed of going there, and Georgia knew with a sinking feeling that if she admitted she’d lied now, she would look like a complete idiot. What’s more, Katie would never let her forget it and would take great pleasure in telling the whole school that Georgia Jones was a liar and a fantasist.

  So instead she found herself unhappily embroidering the lie, telling Aeysha that she and her mum planned to see a Broadway show and go shopping on Fifth Avenue. In fact she was almost beginning to believe it herself when Katie said brightly, “Well, Georgia, as you’re so rich, you’ll have to promise to bring us all back presents, won’t she, girls?”

  Everyone murmured their approval at this plan, and Georgia found herself turning red and muttering, “I’ll see what I can do.” She pushed aside the rest of her chicken. Suddenly she didn’t feel hungry any more.

  After lunch they swam again, but all the pleasure had evaporated for Georgia and she kept wondering how long it would be before Aeysha’s dad came to pick them up. He was giving her a lift home because her mum was working, even though it was a Saturday.

  Then Katie showed them her mum’s room, and opened the massive cupboards so they could try on some of her designer clothes and shoes. They were all giggling and clomping around in heels far too big and high for them when Katie suddenly produced a key and unlocked a jewellery box on the dressing table. She casually pulled out a glittering necklace, studded with hundreds of diamonds and emeralds, and posed with it around her
neck.

  “It’s worth thousands,” she boasted.

  “Won’t your mum be angry with us for playing with it?” said Aeysha, looking worried.

  “Of course not,” said Katie scornfully. “We’re not going to lose it, and even if we did, she could just buy another one.”

  She looked at Georgia. “I expect your mum’s got loads of jewels, hasn’t she, Georgia?”

  Georgia felt flustered. “Er, totally, of course she has. Masses.”

  “What kind?” enquired Katie.

  “Oh, you know, diamonds, rubies,” said Georgia, waving her arm and trying to think of other precious stones. She suddenly remembered her mum’s Victorian garnet and topaz ring. Her mum had said that it wasn’t worth very much, but it was very pretty and unusual and she cherished it because it reminded her of somebody she loved and that made it unique, worth more than all the money in the world.

  “Actually, she has a ring that’s priceless because it’s so incredibly rare. It’s the only one of its kind in the world. It’s an old family heirloom,” said Georgia.

  “Oh,” said Katie dangerously. “We’d like to see that, wouldn’t we, girls?” The others nodded, and even before Katie opened her mouth again, Georgia felt her stomach plummeting like an out-of-control lift.

  “You’d better bring it into school for us all to see, little Miss Jones. Otherwise we might not believe you. We might think that you’re telling porky pies, not just about the ring but about other things too.”

  Again, it was sweetly said, but the threat was unmistakable, and Georgia knew it was now or never to come clean and admit that New York was only a fantasy. But at that moment Katie’s dad called upstairs to say Aeysha’s father had arrived and it was time to go home.