He ushers everyone out and I am left all alone except for Sylvie Rochelle, watching me quietly from across the dressing room.
‘Nerves?’ she asks, and I nod because my mouth is dry and I cannot trust myself to speak.
‘It is natural,’ Sylvie tells me. ‘The adrenalin, this small flutter of fear, it is what we need to keep us sharp …’
I shake my head. ‘No, no, it’s more than that,’ I whisper. ‘I just can’t do it … I can’t! This is why I held back before. I understand now. I never wanted this!’
Sylvie walks towards me, takes my hands in hers. Somehow, the shaking stops and I feel myself standing a little taller.
‘You do want this,’ she tells me. ‘You have wanted it all your life, Jodie, to be centre stage, and now it is happening. You are ready for this!’
‘But … I’m scared!’ I argue.
‘So? You think I have never been scared before a performance?’ she challenges me. ‘Every single time, Jodie. It is part of it all. Perhaps you are scared, but once that curtain opens you will forget everything but the dance, trust me. Be scared, if you must; but dance anyway.’
She is steering me towards the curtain at stage right, ready for my entrance, and suddenly the orchestra begins to play and I see the thick curtains sweeping back to reveal my classmates, curled as if sleeping, scattered across the stage. The performance has begun.
‘No,’ I protest again. ‘Madame Rochelle, I mean it, I really don’t think …’
‘Don’t think,’ she hisses. ‘Just dance. Yes?’
I hear the swell of violin music that heralds my entrance and I move forward, running barefoot on to the stage. I catch sight of the audience, rows and rows of people sitting in the darkened auditorium, and I think I might falter. Instead I turn away, beginning my first solo. The music takes me by the hand, leading me out of danger, and soon I am lost in it all, heart and soul, loving every moment as I whirl about the stage, swishing my wintry cloak before finally discarding it as the music warms and works its way to a crescendo. I am springtime, the pulse of green running through me, wakening the chorus girls one by one from their winter sleep until all of us are dancing together.
The music slows and the chorus girls move back, kneeling in a semicircle. A golden spotlight picks out Sebastien, curled up tight at the back of the stage, slowly stretching and standing tall, dressed in shades of orange and ochre to represent the sun. He walks towards me, takes my hand and pulls me close, and the two of us use every bit of space to dance out the joy of the music. As our duet finishes the first act with a swooping lift and an embrace that sinks down on to the floor, the audience is whooping and cheering and clapping for so long I think I must be dreaming.
By the end of the third act, as spring fades gently away to a riot of summer colour from the chorus girls, I am exhausted, exhilarated, ecstatic. Behind the curtain we listen as the audience goes crazy, and then the lights come up and we run onstage again for a final bow. When I look up I can see my mum and dad and my little brothers in the front row of the theatre, and just behind them, Summer, Skye and Alfie with Charlotte and Paddy cheering louder than anyone else.
I drop into another curtsy, my eyes wet with tears of happiness.
The evening is crazy; that backstage buzz lasts right through a makeshift afterparty in the theatre cafe, through hugs and praise and kind words from Mum and Dad and Summer, from Sylvie and Joe, from total strangers. The local newspaper takes photographs and promises a review, and I watch wide-eyed as the reporter scrawls ‘Jodie Rivers: exciting new talent’, in her notebook.
‘You were awesome,’ Summer tells me, and I hold her tight and tell her I did it for her too, for both of us, heart and soul.
‘I know,’ she whispers back, her eyes bright. ‘I know you did.’
When everyone has gone, we travel back to Rochelle Academy in a couple of coaches, talking non-stop, laughing at the remnants of stage make-up still on our faces, outlandish false eyelashes, streaks of green around our hairlines, ribbons and flowers in our hair.
‘Epic stuff,’ Sparks declares. ‘We blew them away back there! With a little help from Jodie and Sebastien, of course …’
‘You were incredible,’ Tasha tells me.
‘Fantastic,’ Naomi agrees.
Grace smiles and leans across the aisle. ‘I never really understood contemporary dance until tonight,’ she says. ‘You made it come to life, Jodie. You were great!’
That is my favourite compliment of all.
Back at the academy, the cooks have laid on a celebration buffet; we eat quiche and salad and cake while Sylvie and Joe tell us we were all amazing. We are even given an extended curfew because it’s clear that none of us will be in bed by ten-thirty, not on a night like this.
Things are starting to break up by half eleven, and I am trying to sneak away quietly when Sylvie catches me by the wrist.
‘You see?’ she teases. ‘Centre stage is not such a scary place to be. Some of us were born to it, Jodie Rivers. And you cannot hide from your destiny.’
I smile at her, and wonder how she seems to know me better than I know myself. ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘For giving me a chance!’
‘I was always willing to give you a chance,’ Sylvie replies. ‘You just had to find the courage to take it!’
‘How about me?’ Sebastien asks, coming up behind me. ‘Was I OK?’
‘You were excellent,’ Sylvie tells him. ‘Just as I knew you would be.’
And then we are out of there, just the two of us, slipping down the empty corridors, grabbing jackets and sliding silently out of the kitchen door, the one that nobody ever remembers to lock. We walk across the moonlit grass, hand in hand, under the willow trees wearing their fresh green ribbons of leaves, down to the ruined summerhouse.
And now we are sitting on the ramshackle steps together, just as we did in November, all those months ago.
Sebastien’s mum did not come to the performance; it’s a long way, of course, from Paris, and he knew she wouldn’t make it, but I think he is sad all the same. When term finishes Mum and Dad have said he can come home to Minehead to stay with us. Who knows, maybe one day I will get to stay with him in Paris?
I lean my head against Sebastien’s shoulder and he wraps his arms around me, and I know without any trace of a doubt that today has been the best day of my life. I danced centre stage, the star of the show, and I found reserves of courage I didn’t know I had. I danced better than I ever have before, heart and soul, and I loved every single second of it. Now, finally, I am here, in my favourite place, with my favourite person.
The last minutes of the day slide through our fingers like sand, but it doesn’t matter; I have learned so much today about courage and friendship and trust. I have learned how to step out of the shadows and into the spotlight, and I won’t be going back.
Don’t miss Chocolates and Flowers: Alfie’s Story, another ebook peek behind the scenes of The Chocolate Box Girls series!
shy, quiet, always on the outside … sometimes finds it hard to separate truth from fiction
14 years old
Born: Glasgow
Mum: Kiko
Dad: Paddy
Looks: small; slim; coffee-coloured skin; straight, dark hair with a fringe, often worn in little bunches
Style: bright skinny jeans, T-shirts, anything with a Japanese theme
Loves: dreaming, stories, cherry blossom, Irn-Bru, gypsy caravans
Prize possessions: kimono, parasol, Japanese fan, photo of her mum from long ago
Dreams: of being part of a family
www.cathycassidy.com
friendly, eccentric, individual, imaginative
13 years old – Summer’s identical twin
Born: Kitnor
Mum: Charlotte
Dad: Greg
Looks: shoulder-length blonde hair, blue eyes, big grin
Style: floppy hats and vintage dresses, scarves and shoes
Loves: history, horoscopes, drea
ming, drawing
Prize possessions: her collection of vintage dresses and the fossil she once found on the beach
Dreams: of travelling back in time to see what the past was really like …
www.cathycassidy.com
quiet, confident, pretty, popular, and very serious about dance
13 years old – Skye’s identical twin
Born: Kitnor
Mum: Charlotte
Dad: Greg
Looks: long blonde hair, always tied back in braids or a neat ballerina bun; blue eyes; moves gracefully
Style: anything pink … neat, pretty, fashionable clothes and dance-wear
Loves: dancing, especially ballet
Prize possessions: pointe shoes and tutu
Dreams: of going to the Royal Ballet School, becoming a professional dancer and one day running her own ballet school
www.cathycassidy.com
cheeky, energetic, friendly, adventurous, crazy about animals
12 years old
Born: Kitnor
Mum: Charlotte
Dad: Greg
Looks: chin-length wavy blonde hair, always tangled; blue eyes; freckles; big grin
Style: tomboy: jeans, T-shirt, always messy and dishevelled
Loves: animals, climbing trees, swimming in the sea
Prize possessions: Fred the dog and the ducks
Dreams: of having a Ilama, a donkey and a parrot
www.cathycassidy.com
a drama queen: moody, selfish, often sad … but also bright, charming, organized and sweet
15 years old
Born: London
Mum: Charlotte
Dad: Gerg
Looks: long, ringletty blonde hair that reaches to her waist; blue eyes; creamy skin; tall; slim
Style: cool: little print dresses, strappy sandals, shades, shorts and T-shirts
Loves: drawing, painting, fashion, music … and Shay Fletcher
Prize possessions: hair, diary, sketchbook, turret bedroom
Dreams: of being a model, actress or fashion designer
www.cathycassidy.com
Which Chocolate Box Girl Are you?
Your perfect day would be spent …
a) visiting a busy vintage market
b) with your favourite canine companion on a long walk in the countryside
c) curled up on the sofa watching black-and-white movies with your boyfriend
d) window-shopping with your BFF
e) sipping frappuccinos in a hip city cafe
Your ideal boy is …
a) arty and sensitive
b) boy? No thanks!
c) a good listener … and a little bit quirky
d) polite and clever
e) good looking and popular – what other kind of boy is there?
Who’s the first person you would tell about your new crush?
a) your sister – she knows everything about you
b) your pet cat … animals are great listeners
c) your BFF
d) your mum – she always has the best advice
e) no one. It’s best not to trust anyone with a secret
Your favourite subject is …
a) history
b) science
c) creative writing
d) French
e) drama
Your school books are …
a) covered in paisley-print fabric
b) a bit muddy
c) filled with doodles
d) neat, tidy and full of good grades
e) rarely handed in on time
When you grow up you want to be …
a) an interior designer
b) a vet
c) a writer
d) a prima ballerina
e) famous
People always compliment your …
a) individuality. If anyone can pull it off you can!
b) caring nature – every creature deserves a bit of love
c) wild imagination … although it can get you into trouble sometimes
d) determination. Practice makes perfect
e) strong personality. You never let anyone stand in your way
Mostly As … Skye
Cool and eclectic, friends love your relaxed boho style and passion for all things quirky.
Mostly Bs … Coco
A real mother earth, but with your feet firmly on the ground, you’re happiest in the great outdoors – accompanied by a whole menagerie of animal companions.
Mostly Cs … Cherry
‘Daydreamer’ is your middle name … Forever thinking up crazy stories and buzzing with new ideas, you always have an exciting tale to tell – you’re allowed a bit of artistic licence, right?
Mostly Ds … Summer
Passionate and fun, you’re determined to make your dreams come true … and your family and friends are behind you every step of the way.
Mostly Es … Honey
Popular, intimidating, lonely … everyone has a different idea about the ‘real you’. Try opening up a bit more and you’ll realize that friends are there to help you along the way.
‘I LOVE your books … I can’t put them down’ Leyla
‘I can’t wait until Coco Caramel! You’re my favourite author EVER!!’ Ellen
‘I can’t wait till your other books come out, The Chocolate Box Girls are the best!’ Ruby
‘Me and my best friend have read all of your books!’ Isabelle
‘I’m obsessed with reading your books – they are just THE BEST! You rock Cathy!’ Momin
More praise for Cathy!
‘I was addicted to Marshmallow Skye … beautiful, perfect and super moreish’ thebookaddictedgirl.blogspot.com
‘Writing as engaging as this is not easy to pull off’ Mail on Sunday
‘A great choice for older Jacqueline Wilson fans’ Irish Independent
‘Wittily written … from the heart’ Radio Times
Write your own review at www.cathycassidy.com
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