Tara's Triumph

by Cindy Jeffries

  Tara looked away, unable to speak for a moment. Her parents were always letting her down and then trying to make up for it with presents, but they’d never sent her anything like this. Dad must have asked Judge Jim’s advice to get exactly the instrument she wanted. She was sure she’d never told him how much she admired Rickenbacker basses. Her dad wasn’t into guitars.

  Tara usually despised the presents her parents sent, but she couldn’t possibly despise this one. Her emotions were pulled back and forth, and she wasn’t sure how she felt. She should call her dad and thank him, but she was still angry with both parents for ruining her vacation and not taking her back to school themselves. However wonderful the Rickenbacker was, it still didn’t make up for them deserting her, and she didn’t want them to think it did.

  To her annoyance, she felt tears pricking the backs of her eyes. But Tara Fitzgerald never cried. She preferred to get angry instead. So her parents sent an expensive present because they felt guilty? That was their problem.

  Judge Jim seemed to sense her emotion. He squeezed her shoulder. “I have some paperwork to do in here,” he said quietly. “Why don’t you take your new bass into the main room and get acquainted?”

  Tara nodded. Thank goodness her teacher didn’t want a long conversation. In spite of being upset with her parents, she couldn’t wait to try out the Rickenbacker.

  Tara took it through into the other room and connected it up to her amp with the new lead. Nearby, her old bass sat on its stand, looking rather forlorn. She’d missed it so much while she was on safari, but now that she had her new bass she wasn’t going to be playing the old one anytime soon. She sniffed defiantly, sat down, and rested the heavy Rickenbacker on her knee. The inlay on the neck was beautiful and the white trim on the black body of the bass looked really elegant. She would have to get a new strap. Her old one was too beat-up.

  She wrapped her left hand around the neck and plucked the open strings with the fingers of her right hand. It was almost perfectly in tune. Judge Jim must have tuned it up for her. She corrected the one string that had stretched and gone slightly flat, then she played a minor scale. The deep, rich sound filled the room, but minor scales were too sad. She needed to keep away from the blues. A bit of funk should do it. Yeah. That was better. Forget her parents! They didn’t need to think she’d be grateful. But she was very, very pleased with this bass.

  Much later, Tara left the Rock Department and made her way back to her dorm. Paddock House was full of noise now, with girls excitedly greeting one another and exchanging news. Pop, Lolly, and Chloe were all in the bedroom, which was a chaotic mess of half-unpacked bags and open closets. Pop and Lolly were models, and never traveled light. It looked as if they’d both brought tons more clothes to school this semester, even though their dressers were already bursting.

  “Tara!” yelled Pop, waving her arms dramatically as she always did. “Where have you been? Why haven’t you unpacked yet? Have you been to dinner?”

  “No,” muttered Tara. Pop’s wild enthusiasm always made her clam up.

  “Did you have a good vacation?” Chloe asked.

  Tara shrugged. “It was okay,” she said. She lifted her bag onto her bed and began to unpack.

  Pop turned to Chloe. “We went to Africa, too!” she told her excitedly, closing her trunk with a slam. “It was all at the last minute, but Tikki Deacon, the supermodel, wanted some younger models on a special shoot she was doing, and she asked for us!”

  Tara pricked up her ears. Wasn’t it Tikki Deacon whom her mom had gone to interview?

  “You wouldn’t believe the security she had,” said Lolly. “I think it was totally over-the-top, but she’s such a big name I guess she thinks she needs lots of bodyguards. We saw your mom, too,” Lolly added to Tara. “What a coincidence! I asked if you were around, but she said you were with your dad.” Lolly shook her head. “Your poor mom!” she told Tara. “She does work hard. She was trying her best to get an interview with Tikki, but she didn’t have a hope during the shoot. Afterward we all went to the beach for a couple of days, and Tikki invited her to join us, so she got her interview in the end.”

  Tara tried to concentrate on her unpacking, rather than listening to the twins, but it was impossible. Now she was really angry. Why hadn’t her mom let her know that the twins were there? That was so typical of her mom. She must have realized Pop and Lolly would bring it up.

  “You should have brought your dad and come also,” Pop told Tara. “The beach was great!” She grinned.

  Tara sniffed, and busied herself putting her clothes away. Pop glanced at her sister, frowning at Tara’s lack of response.

  Lolly tried again. “We heard you were on safari,” she said. “That must have been fun, too.”

  “Safari!” squeaked Chloe. “How fantastic. The farthest away I’ve ever been is a cabin in the countryside! Just think,” she added rather sadly, “I’m the only one in our room who’s never been out of this country.”

  Tara yanked some grubby shirts out of her bag and hurled them onto the floor to take along to the laundry room.

  “You don’t know what it was like,” she snapped bitterly. “And,” she continued, rounding on Pop and Lolly, “while you were having fun together, I was on my own with a bunch of boring adults. If I’d known, I’d have loved to have come to the coast. But Mom was obviously enjoying herself way too much to want me with her.”

  The shocked expressions on her friends’ faces aggravated Tara even more.

  “I had to come all the way back to England by myself,” she told them angrily. “You don’t know how lucky you are with your families. I might as well be an orphan!”

  The truth of what she had said hit Tara, and she bit her lip. But she wouldn’t cry, not now or ever. Crying wasn’t what Tara Fitzgerald did.

  3. A Good Idea?

  “Why did you have to go all the way to Africa for a fashion shoot?” Chloe asked the twins, hurriedly changing the subject.

  “Oh, magazines like exotic locations,” Pop told her. “Luckily for us! We’d never been to Africa before.”

  “Apparently, Tikki only did this shoot because she was allowed to choose the location,” Lolly added.

  “Typical!” snorted Tara.

  “Well, that’s what I would’ve thought,” Lolly said. “Tikki Deacon can act as if she’s the only one in the world who’s important, but it wasn’t like that at all. We didn’t realize, but she’s involved in a charity that helps orphaned children in Africa, and she wanted to visit to see the work they do.”

  “We did the shoot at their school,” said Pop. “It’s a boarding school, but nothing like Rockley Park. For a start, because the children are orphaned, they live there all the time. It’s their home as well as a school. But they were amazing kids. They’ve all had a horrible time, but they were so friendly and welcoming when we arrived.”

  “I felt really guilty modeling all those expensive clothes, while most of the children didn’t even have any shoes,” said Lolly.

  “But Tikki said that was the point,” Pop reminded her twin. “She hoped the contrast would really make people think. And she’d been promised a write-up and loads of publicity about the school to go with the pictures.”

  “She thinks if being famous can sell clothes, it should be able to get attention for more important things, too,” added Lolly. “Like raising money for the orphans’ school. I hope she’s right. Those children need all the help they can get.”

  “There was one little boy named Nangila who really latched on to Lolly,” said Pop. “His dad had been killed in the war, and he lost his mom and baby sister, too, before the charity found him all alone.”

  “That’s terrible,” Chloe said quietly. “I can’t imagine what it would feel like to lose my whole family.”

  “I know,” Lolly agreed. “And the awful thing is, Tikki said that there are lots more children who need help, but the charity doesn’t have enough space or money to look after any more at the moment. They
’re struggling even to keep the place open. I’ve got some pictures we took,” she went on, rummaging in her bag. “Here they are. Look.”

  Pop and Lolly’s trip sounded much more worthwhile than the time Tara had spent with a bunch of wealthy tourists. She wanted to see the pictures too. “Let’s see,” she said. She abandoned all pretense of unpacking and joined the others.

  Lolly passed the photographs around. There was one of Tikki Deacon surrounded by her entourage of bodyguards and another of a cameraman grinning as he had his picture taken. Then there were loads of photos of the children.

  “It looks so hot and dusty,” said Chloe as Lolly held out a picture of a shyly smiling little boy holding her hand. “Oh! Isn’t he sweet?” The child had bare, dusty feet and was wearing a pair of shorts that looked too big for his skinny body. His T-shirt was faded and torn.

  “That’s Nangila,” said Lolly.

  Tara stared at the picture. The child was standing in front of a simple building with a tin roof. He obviously needed clothes and shoes, for a start. He was smiling, but when Tara looked at his eyes she could see that they were full of loneliness. Yes, he’d been rescued, but he still didn’t have most of the things she took for granted. And Tara got lonely with her parents away so much, but that was nothing compared to Nangila’s pain. A wave of anger washed through her.

  “We should do something for those kids,” she muttered.

  “That’s a good idea!” said Pop enthusiastically.

  “What do you think we should do?” Chloe asked. “Raise money, or send them stuff...?” Before Tara could reply, Lolly was speaking.

  “I promised I’d send them copies of these pictures once I’d printed them all out,” she said. “They were so excited to have their pictures taken.” Then she shrugged. “It doesn’t seem like much, but I thought it might help a little for them to know we hadn’t forgotten them.”

  Tara sniffed. “You’re right,” she said witheringly. “A few pictures aren’t very much. I could do a lot better than that! They need real help!”

  Lolly blushed and Chloe frowned at Tara.

  “Yes, you’re right,” said Lolly quietly. “We’ve got so much, and they have hardly anything. We should raise some money for them or do something to help. What do you think we should do, Tara?”

  Everyone looked at Tara.

  Tara hesitated. She didn’t have a clue about orphaned children, and she had no experience raising money for charity. She needed time to think.

  “Well?” demanded Pop, who hated to be kept waiting, even for a few seconds.

  “Let’s go and have dinner,” said Tara suddenly. “It must be time.”

  “But what do you think we should do?” asked Chloe.

  “I’ll tell you over dinner,” Tara told her grandly. She snatched the photograph of Nangila out of Lolly’s hand and made for the door. She simply had to come up with a good plan.

  She didn’t wait for the others, but shot down the stairs, clutching the picture. She glanced at it as she raced over to the dining room. The face of the child was haunting her. What if it was her in the picture with torn clothes and bare feet? How could she bear it? What if her parents were killed in an accident or something? Her wish to see them was like a sudden physical pain, but she tried to bury her feelings. Of course they were fine. All the same, she would text them right after dinner, just to make sure.

  She glanced at the picture of little Nangila again. She shouldn’t feel sorry for herself. She really shouldn’t. She should be thinking of him.

  4. Tara’s Idea

  Once in the dining room, Tara made for their usual table, thinking hard. If only she could come up with a clever fund-raising idea, she might be able to help that orphaned boy and others like him.

  A minute later the others arrived, and Pop zoomed over to the buffet.

  “It’s your favorite!” Pop yelled to her sister. But Lolly and Chloe had seen Danny James with some more of their friends and were waving them over.

  “Come and sit down,” Chloe invited the boys. “Tara, move into the middle so you can explain your idea. Did you bring the rest of the pictures, Lolly?”

  “What’s all this about?” asked Ed Henderson. He and Ben Peters, who were both guitarists, sat down.

  “Tara’s had this amazing idea,” announced Pop, plonking her tray down and slopping juice everywhere. “But we don’t know much about it yet.”

  “Well, wait until we’ve got our dinner,” said Danny, who was a drummer. He and Marmalade Stamp, the only dancer in the group of friends, went to get some food. For a few minutes everyone was busy figuring out what they wanted to eat and drink, and catching up on spring-break gossip. But as soon as they were all settled, Pop waved at Tara, dangerously close to spilling her drink again.

  “Come on, Tara,” she urged. “Tell us about your idea.”

  “Show them the pictures,” said Tara, still stalling. So Lolly mopped up Pop’s earlier spills, then spread the photos out on the table.

  “We were doing a fashion shoot in Africa over the break,” Lolly explained. “The children in these pictures are all orphans, and Tara thinks we could do something to help them.”

  “It just doesn’t seem fair that we have so much and they have nothing,” explained Tara, feeling angry all over again as she looked at the pictures.

  “Fair enough,” agreed Marmalade, looking at Tara curiously. “So what’s your idea?”

  “Well . . .” Tara said, still thinking furiously. “Some of us have tons of clothes.” She glanced at the twins. “We could send clothes, or toys, books . . . I wasn’t there, but you can see from the pictures that they don’t have much, and they are orphans.” She paused and then began again firmly. “My parents gave me a new bass this term. I’m going to start by selling my old one to raise money for the children.”

  “Wow!” said Ed. “That’s generous, Tara. I’ve got three guitars, but I don’t think I could bear to part with any of them!”

  Tara shrugged. “You can only play one at a time,” she said. “But that’s just me,” she hurried on, seeing his face fall. “I’m sure we can all find something to sell that we don’t want anymore.”

  “Maybe we could make things, too,” said Chloe. “Do you think Mrs. Pinto would let us use the kitchen in our dorm to make cakes to sell?”

  “I’m no good at cooking,” admitted Marmalade. “But I could do a sponsored pirouette!”

  “You need sponsoring not to do that,” Tara told him crushingly. “You’re always spinning around on one leg, getting in the way.”

  “But a sponsored event could work,” objected Lolly.

  “I suppose,” Tara hastily agreed, realizing that putting Marmalade down wasn’t going to win her any support. “Thanks.”

  Marmalade, who was pretty irrepressible, raised his eyebrows at Tara’s mood change. “Miss Fitzgerald is being nice,” he observed. “How cool is that? Does she want something?”

  Tara scowled at him. “I want sensible suggestions,” she told him angrily.

  “I thought all this was supposed to be your brilliant idea,” he said.

  “I know!” said Pop, ignoring the last remark to Tara’s great relief. “Marmalade could get sponsored to stay sensible for as long as possible!”

  Everyone laughed except for Marmalade and Tara. “It was a joke!” Pop told him. “You’re not the only one who can crack them.”

  “But this is serious,” Tara said, looking at the pictures on the table. “And actually I don’t think that a sale, or sponsoring each other, will raise enough money. Even selling my bass probably won’t make very much. I think we need something else to get money in from outside the school. Lots of it,” she added firmly. “Wouldn’t it be great if we could send tons of money?” She held up the picture of the little boy with the sad eyes. “Maybe the charity would be able to rescue more children like Nangila, then.”

  Everyone was quiet for a few moments. Then an idea flipped into Tara’s head. It was so good and so simp
le that it made her catch her breath. “I know!” she said. “I’ve got the perfect idea.”

  “Oh yeah?” mocked Marmalade. “Another one?”

  “What?” asked Chloe.

  “Well, what are we all good at?” Tara demanded, excitement rising in her by the second.

  Chloe shrugged. “I don’t know,” she mused. “I’m good at English. . .”

  “And I like biology, but what use is that?” added Lolly.

  “No! I don’t mean schoolwork. What are we here for?” Tara demanded.

  Pop squealed excitedly. “I know. Music, of course!”

  “Exactly,” Tara agreed. “Music. Why not sell what we do best?”

  Now she really had their attention. “We could play some songs,” she told them, her mind racing. “Get Mr. Timms to record them and make a CD. Then we get lots of them copied, ask the art department to design the covers, and we sell them . . . everywhere.” She sat back, pleased and relieved that she’d come up with such a good idea.

  “Who’s going to buy them, though?” asked Ed. “I mean, really? We might sell a few to friends and parents, but it won’t raise that much money.”

  Tara looked at him impatiently. “So we get some famous names to join us,” she told him. “Mr. Player was a pop singer before he came here to give voice lessons. I bet tons of people our parents’ age will remember him. And what about Judge Jim?”

  Everyone nodded. To ask the Head of the Rock Department was a seriously good idea. He was famous all over the world.

  “Where would we sell the CDs?” asked Ben. “Do you think we could get them into music stores?”

  “Of course!” Tara told him airily. “All it needs is a little organization.”

  “Who’s going to do all that?” asked Chloe.

  “All what?” demanded Tara.

  “The organization,” Lolly put in. “It’ll take a lot of work. Of course, I’ll help. I think we all will. But someone will have to be in charge.”