Dream On (19 page)

"I reckon that's probably just staged for the show,
pet," said Boz, and gave her a quick hug. He kissed her, too, but on the cheek.

"Oy!" said Shane.

"We'll see you girls later then," said Ritchie, a
little sadly, too. "Best of luck."

Melodie stretched her arms out. "Group hug?"

To Ariel's surprise, each member of Thor complied
without complaint - and then, disentangling themselves and calling out final
farewell good wishes, they went off to their separate rooms, to await their
fate.

Ariel's chance to impress the judges came within
the first half hour.

Two of the people wearing fleecy jackets with the Inspire
TV logo on the back,  headsets constantly in use, showed her into a smaller
room down a corridor. When she walked in, two faces looked up from behind a
desk and smiled at her; obviously the A&R man from the record company, and
the programme researcher. Glenn Hunter and Rachel Mackie, their name badges told
her.

"Ariel Swan," said Rachel Mackie, consulting a
sheet of paper. She smiled at her again.

I'm terrified, Ariel thought. Rachel was probably about five years younger than her,
with a sharp, impish face and a black crew cut. Glenn Hunter was a big man,
unsmiling.

"Hello," Ariel said. Should she shake their
hands? Perhaps not. Did she look as if she'd made enough effort, standing
there in her jeans, boots and sleeveless black polo neck? Melodie had said the
outfit was really 'sixties sexy', like Brigitte Bardot; oh well, if anyone knew
about these things, Melodie did. She looked around her. "Oh - cameras. I
didn't expect there to be cameras for this bit."

"It's to help us make our decisions later, because
otherwise we won't remember you all - and also to see what you look like
through the lens," said Rachel. "Some people adapt well to the camera, some
don't."

Ariel tried to stop herself but she couldn't help
asking. "But if it's all about the music, why does it matter what we look like
on camera?" As soon as she'd said it she realised how naïve she sounded.

"The music business is visual, too," said Glenn
Hunter. "Yes, we're looking for musical ability primarily, but how you come
across to the viewer is important, as well."

"Of course. Yes. Sorry, I didn't mean to seem
argumentative."

"That's okay," said Rachel, "you won't be the first
person to ask that today, I can assure you. Don't forget, we're making a
television programme.  We don't want to end up with fifteen great musicians who
look as dull as ditch water when they're playing to an audience." She glanced
at her watch. "Now, Ariel, tell us a bit about yourself."

Ariel told them about her career, such as it had
been, in London, and about the songs she wrote. She kept it as brief as
possible, struck with nerves as she was; why would they be interested in some
little gig a nobody like her had played, in a back street pub?

"Will you be playing one of your own compositions today?"
Rachel asked.

"Yes - is that okay?"

"Sure," said Glenn, "it's how we get to see if you're
everything your application says you are. Some people will do cover
versions, but we welcome own material. Don't forget, we're looking for
undiscovered talent."

Feeling more confident now, Ariel sat down on the
stool provided and launched into "Look At Me", her newly renamed song about
trying to get the attention of someone who didn't know she existed. After just
two minutes, Glenn and Rachel looked at each other, nodded, and made a couple
of marks on a piece of paper. Rachel held her hand up, indicating
that she should stop singing.

Oh, dear.

"Thanks, Ariel." Rachel smiled at her.

One of the assistants who'd shown her in stepped
forward. "You can go back to the holding room and wait, now," she said.  "We'll
let you know - oh probably about six o'clock. Maybe a bit later. We
ask you not to leave the premises, though, unless you really have to."

"Oh - so that's it?"

"Yes," she said.

Ariel looked back at Glenn and Rachel, who were
deep in hushed conversation; she thanked them, and left, feeling a bit
deflated.

Why had they cut her off so soon? Was she
that
bad?

She thought about her reception at the Creative
Workshop, and felt like crying.

When she got back to where Melodie was sitting, she
saw that they'd been joined by Glynis Tooke. Both women lurched forward,
eagerly.

"What was it like? Did you get through?" Melodie
asked, immediately.

"I don't know," Ariel said, sitting down. "They stopped me
half way through and said they'd let me know later this afternoon. I need
to go out for a fag, I know that."

"Was it just
amazing
?" asked Glynis, clutching
her bodhrán onto her knees. "I bet it was such a
trip
to perform your
art in front of professionals, wasn't it?"

Ariel smiled. "Not really; it was pretty
terrifying, actually." She fished in her bag for her cigarettes. "I wonder how
the boys are doing."

"Didn't they tell you if you were any good, or not?"
Melodie asked.

"No." Ariel laughed. "As we keep saying, this isn't The X
Factor. They're not there to give you feedback, just to see if they want
you on their show or not."

"I'm surprised," said Glynis. "We artistes thrive on
feedback from our audience; it's what makes us shine!"

"Whatever," said Ariel, and sighed. "Okay, see you chaps
in a minute."

When she got back half an hour later, after smoking
three cigarettes, phoning her father and pacing round and round the car park in
an effort to release some of her pent up energy, Melodie had just gone in.  Glynis
was listening with great concentration to two women singing Whitney Houston's
'I want to dance with somebody', and attempting to play her bodhrán in
accompaniment. Ariel had to stop herself from laughing; both women kept glancing
at each other, nervously.

Melodie returned, looking flushed and pleased with
herself. "That Glenn Hunter bloke, I know he fancied me!" she said. "That
should get me through, if nothing else does!"

The morning wore on and Glynis became increasingly
petulant, waiting for her turn and listening to all sorts of theories from
others who hadn't been seen yet, either: they'd already made their minds up who
was going through and the auditions were just a formality; they were saving the
most promising until last. Then Ariel began to notice something that hadn't
registered with her earlier. Some people were coming back from the audition
room, picking up their bags and leaving, quietly, straight away; in the last
hour or so a couple had been in tears.

"Weird," said Ariel to Melodie. "I thought they were
letting us all know later."

She got up and wandered over to one of the runners,
a young guy in an Inspire TV t-shirt with a name badge that told the world he
was called Zack, and asked him what was happening.

Zack grinned. "Oh, they're the definite no-nos,"
he said. He looked around to make sure no-one was listening. "The hilarious and
the hopeless - the ones they know straight away haven't got a chance. Some
of them, they tell them to stop after about thirty seconds, and just say no. If they think you're okay, you get the nod and your video gets saved and edited
together with all the rest. They'll scan through all the possibles at about four
o'clock, and make their decision about the final eighty, for the actual show,
once they've watched you all again."

"Oh - thanks!" Ariel felt cheered by this; she
went over and imparted the information to Melodie, out of earshot of Glynis. "Looks like we've overcome the first hurdle, then!"

Melodie surprised her by giving her a big hug and
kissing her cheek. They looked at each other and laughed.

"We're on our way, babe!" shrieked Melodie.

More people left; the room began to empty. Ariel
tried to read, but it was impossible to do so against the backdrop of Melodie's
chatter and Glynis's vocal exercises. At about two o'clock, Melodie went off
in search of sandwiches, and came back grinning all over her face.

"I've just seen Boz!" she said. "They've already been in,
and they're still here!"

Ariel's face broke into a smile almost as wide as the one
Glynis had been sporting for the early part of the day, though sadly no more,
and clapped her hands.

"Excellent!" she said. "That's all of us! Mel, isn't
this great? Hey, three cheers to you for finding out about this thing!"

Glynis said nothing, but moved to examine the packets of
sandwiches.

"Does anyone mind if I have the smoked salmon and
cream cheese?" she asked, grabbing it and breaking open the cellophane.

"Cheeky cow!" Melodie whispered. "I bought that one for
myself!"

They sat down, and were just opening bottles of
sparkling water to go with their lunch when their ears were alerted.

"Do we have a Glynis Cook?" called the girl who'd
shown Ariel out.  She frowned and held the earpiece of her headset closer
again. "Sorry - Glynis Tooke to the audition room, please!"

Glynis gulped down her mouthful of sandwich,
shrugged off her turquoise mohair jacket to reveal a sea green, sequinned vest,
and grabbed her bodhrán.

"Wish me luck, fellow music makers!" she cried to
the room, and, with a final beat of her drum, she disappeared down the
corridor.

While Dave Bentley was sitting in the holding room
at the studio watching a four piece girl band from Birmingham getting into
fisticuffs about who was going to do the lead vocal (after which they were
disqualified and thrown out), Janice Brown was clearing up tables in the
Sunrise café, looking out of the window at the falling snow, and wondering if
it was going to settle.

"That'll be me skidding all the way home, then,"
said Lisa, as she folded paper napkins around knives and forks and put them in
the tray on the dresser in the corner. "Max, can I go home early? I've got me
stiletto heeled boots on!"

Max laughed. "I'd say yes, but I thought it was
your turn to clean the loos," he said.

"Oh, I'll do them," Janice said. "Mum said she'd keep
Harley 'til six anyway, in case I need to go shopping after I've finished here."

"Really?"  Lisa whipped off her apron. "Mwah, Jan - that's
me outta here!"

She was gone within minutes.

"Are you going shopping, then?" Max asked. "D'you want me
to give you a lift?"

Janice screwed up her nose. "I don't think I can
be bothered," she said. "We can always have spaghetti hoops and oven chips for
tea; Harley would probably prefer that, anyway!"

Max laughed again. "Not very nutritious, though is
it? No, no, I'm not criticising you, don't worry; I can imagine what it's
like. I know how picky I was when I was a kid." He patted his stomach. "You
wouldn't think so, now, though, would you?"

Janice smiled. "No, I'm not the sylph I was at eighteen,
either; few of us are."

Max put down the cloth he was using to wipe down
the counter. "Does Harley like dogs?"

"Yes. He loves them. Prefers spaghetti hoops,
though." She smiled. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Just thought you and he might like
to come round for dinner at mine tonight. Just you, me, Harley and Sam. I put
a stew in the slow cooker this morning, to last me a couple of days; I have a
large appetite so it'll easily stretch to three." He grinned. "Or four. It's got dumplings in, and everything. Sam loves dumplings!"

Janice felt herself go pink. "Yes. That'd be lovely. Thank you."

"Great." Max clapped his hands. "Right, well, let's get
this place cleared up sharpish, shall we, and we'll go and pick the lad up. Oh - I'll do the toilets in the morning!"

Janice smiled to herself as she picked up her cloth
and bottle of Mr Muscle so she could finish cleaning the tables, and kept on
smiling until they were all sparkling clean.

The door to the corridor leading to the audition
room burst open, and out flounced Glynis Tooke.

She'd been gone for some time, so Melodie and Ariel
presumed that the musical Sassy Monologue had been well received, which, they agreed,
didn't bode well for more mainstream singers like themselves.

Glynis said nothing as she walked over to where
they sat, and carefully placed her drum back into her bag.

"How did you do?" Ariel asked.

Silence.

"Well?" said Ariel.

Silence.

Melodie laughed. "I know! She's doing that kidding
around thing they do on The X Factor - you know, when they look all sad and say
"I'm really sorry to have to say this, but I'm afraid you're ... going to have to
come back tomorrow and do it all again!" Come on, aren't you?"

Glynis looked at her, with pure hatred. "They
laughed
at me," she said.

"What?" Ariel and Melodie said, in unison.

Glynis sat down. Gone was the ear to ear smile,
the bouncing optimism. She didn't look upset, though. She looked furious.

"I introduced myself, told them all about the
Workshop, explained how the performing arts are my passion, how my life's journey
is to foster creativity and self-expression in myself and others. I described
to them my plan to growth the aims of the Workshop to include a course in Shamanic
drumming, and they hardly seemed interested," she said. "In fact, that burly misogynistic
oaf
of a man actually cut me short and asked me to get on with it!"

Melodie gave a little snort and gripped Ariel's
wrist, so hard it hurt.

"So how did it go?" she asked.

"Thirty seconds, if that, that's how it went!"
Glynis said, then tore her red scarf from her hair and stuffed that in her bag,
too. "They stopped me after only about thirty seconds! I gave it my all, I
gifted
them 'Killer Heels', I was
speaking
to them, expressing my story
through not only my voice, but also the medium of contemporary dance - it was a
complete performance,
using my words, my body, my instrument, my
whole
self
- and they cut me off half way through!"