Phoebe Finds Her Voice (12 page)

The chant builds up, getting louder and louder and ends with all of us letting out this huge scream. Monty B is brilliant. He makes this “horrified” face and it's so funny I have to hold my breath to stop myself from laughing every time he does it. I didn't feel like laughing now, though. I felt like running straight off the stage and out of the hall, but I was too terrified to move.

Arthur appeared about ten minutes later wearing a Father Christmas costume that was about three sizes too small and carrying a huge sack of toys over his shoulder. He rang a heavy-looking gold bell to get everyone's attention and the room fell silent.

My heart was beating so fast, I thought I was going to pass out. I looked over at Miss Howell to try and make her realize I couldn't do it, but before I could catch her eye Monty B dragged me forward.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said, doing this ridiculous bow. “Prepare to be dazzled – and delighted – and de…well just prepare yourselves for…” He put his hand out to me, grinning and nodding, and somehow, I really don't know how, I opened my mouth and said:

“Star Makers – Children's Drama Club!”

There was a massive cheer and Catharine walked to the front of the stage to sing Sabine's main song,
Mixing a Dream.

She sang the first verse by herself, her voice ringing out around the hall like a
real
angel, and then the rest of us joined in with the chorus. After
Mixing a Dream
we sang
Doing the Sweet-Dream Rap, Don't Let the Bed-Bugs Bite
, and then
Scream!

By the end of the song everyone in the hall was hysterical and Monty B got the loudest cheer. He started bowing and blowing kisses at all the old ladies and getting totally carried away until Miss Howell rushed on the stage and grabbed him.

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” she said, turning to give us all a clap. “Now don't forget to come and see
The Dream Factory
, our fantastic show, on the 21st of February. And a very happy Christmas to everyone.”

Monty B started blowing kisses again and Miss Howell pulled him off the stage, laughing. “Monty B! You're a liability,” she gasped. “I swear I'll be grey by the time we've finished this production!”

“What does liability mean? Is it a compliment?”

Catharine threw her arms round him. “It means you're bad news,” she cried, “but we all love you anyway!”

“Fantastic, Phoebe!” said Miss Howell, coming over to give me a hug. “I knew you could do it.”

“Oh, thank you,
Mandy
,” I said, without thinking, and then rushed to the back of the stage before she could see that my face was roughly the same colour as Monty B's hair.

It was probably stupid to get so excited about speaking in front of a bunch of strangers and singing a few songs from the show, but when everyone cheered at the end my arms went all goose-pimply and I couldn't stop grinning.

“How cool was that, Frankie?” said Monty B.

“Really cool,” I said, and smiled at him. A proper smile; not twisted up or anything.

I looked around at everyone on the stage; at Ellie and Sam and Neesha and Catharine and Tara. A few months ago, when I first joined Star Makers, I didn't know what I was doing there, or how I was ever going to fit in. These days I couldn't imagine anywhere else in the world that I'd rather be.

The holiday seemed to drag on for ever and it was such a relief when it was finally over. Christmas was just as awful as I thought it was going to be; Mum was in the worst mood ever and Dad spent all his time at the
Life
centre. I was so desperate to get out of the house that I didn't even feel too bad about going back to school. I wasn't exactly looking forward to it – but it had to be better than staying at home.

I was
really
excited about going back to drama but I still didn't know what I was going to do about my solo. Donny made it sound so simple in the self-belief section of his article. All you had to do was repeat this special mantra about 150 times a day and success would be yours. It went something like:
I am truly gifted. I can be anything that I want to be. Nothing can stand in my way.

I had planned to say it every morning before I went down for breakfast but then the first day I actually tried it Sara walked past my room and nearly wet herself laughing.

“You
are
truly gifted,” she shouted out, banging on the door. “Truly gifted at being truly stupid!” And then I remembered, way too late, that I wasn't going to follow Donny's advice any more.

“I hope you all had a fantastic break,” Mandy greeted us on our first Saturday back, “but after today I don't want to see anyone using a script.”

“Oh my God, Mandy! You're having a laugh,” groaned Neesha.

“No, Neesha, I'm not
having a laugh
, as you put it. It's not funny! There are only four more Saturdays until the dress rehearsal, and the best way to feel really secure about your part is to stop relying on your script.

“Anyway,” she added, with a twinkly smile, “I'm sure you all spent heaps of time during the holidays going over your lines so it shouldn't be too much of a problem.”

“I just don't know what happened to
my
script, Mandy,” Ellie cried suddenly, ripping open her bag and chucking everything up in the air. “I lost it right at the beginning of the holidays so I haven't been able to learn my lines at all.”

“Now why doesn't that surprise me?” said Mandy. “Have you checked the hamster cage?”

“I know all my lines, in Act One
and
Act Two,” said Sam, smugly.

I knew all of mine as well, but I didn't say anything. It wasn't going to be much use if I was too scared to sing my solo at the end.

“Right, let's make a start,” said Mandy. “Everyone turn to Act Two, Scene One and I want all of you on the stage.”

We ran through the scene a few times, ending with the Sweet-Dreamers singing,
Don't Let the Bed-Bugs Bite
, the song we'd practised over at Ellie's house weeks and weeks ago.

“Sing up,” Mandy called out. “I can't believe that's the loudest sound you can make. Come on Ellie, open your mouth! All of you – sing from your bellies. Tara! What
are
you doing? You keep turning the opposite way to everyone else!”

“It's no use, Mandy,” Tara wailed. “I can't do it. The message from my brain doesn't reach my feet. I know I should be turning one way, but my feet keep turning me round the other way.” She glared down at her disobedient feet through her small, round glasses.

“Phoebe, why don't you stand next to Tara and help her? You seem to know all the dances really well.”

My face started to burn up. Me help Tara? How was I supposed to help Tara – brains of the class
–
Perkins?

“Come on, quickly, Phoebe. Show her which way to turn.”

I shuffled over to Tara and stood to her right.

“Erm, it's quite easy really,” I said, as if I knew what I was talking about. “All you have to do is to make sure that every time you turn, you turn towards me. And make sure your left shoulder turns towards the audience first.”

“Gosh, thanks, Phoebe,” she said after we'd tried it out a few times. “I wish I was as good at dancing as you are, but I'm completely useless. Did you have dance lessons before you joined Star Makers?”

“No, of course not. I never did
anything
before I joined Star Makers. I don't mean I didn't do
anything
…of course I did things like go to school and brush my teeth and stuff…just not singing or dancing or anything like that…” I trailed off blushing again.

Tara started to giggle, but I thought she looked a bit alarmed.
Go to school and brush my teeth?
I was the one who needed help!

At break time Mandy called us over one at a time to measure us for costumes. She'd made the Sweet-Dreamer girls these dingy-looking old dresses with patches on but she needed to sort out the different lengths.

“How was your holiday, Phoebe?” she asked, as she measured me from the back of my shoulder down to my knee. Then she turned me round and looked at me more closely. “Are you okay, sweetheart? You look exhausted. Look at those bags under your eyes. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, everything's fine,” I lied.

“What about Christmas Day? Did you do anything special?”

“No, nothing that special really.”

What would I say anyway? That my dad who's now called Eagle Dust, had lunch with a load of people I've never even met – and that my mum stayed in her dressing gown for most of the day, moping around like she was at a funeral. It was so much easier to keep quiet.

I went back over to the others, but when it was time to start again I couldn't find my script anywhere. I knew I'd left it in my bag, I could remember putting it in there when Mandy called me over – but it definitely wasn't there now. I asked Ellie and Sam if they'd seen it and Ellie helped me hunt around a bit – but it had completely disappeared.

I was just about to ask Mandy what I should do when Monty B came bounding over. “I'll help you find it, Frankie,” he cried, pulling me across the hall.

And then Polly called out in like The Loudest Voice Ever, “
Oh Frankie
,
off to practise your kissing scenes?
”

I yanked my arm away from Monty B and ran out to the toilets. I could hear Polly making kissing noises behind me as I fled – and my face was on fire. I stayed in the loo for ages thinking about how much I hated Polly Carter and about how obvious it was that she'd taken my script and hidden it somewhere, but there was no way I could prove it. I walked round and round the tiny toilet cubicle trying to work out what I should do. I really didn't want to go back inside – but there didn't seem to be any alternative.

“Look, I've found your script, Phoebs,” said Ellie the second I walked through the doors. “It was stuffed right down behind the radiator.”

I looked across the hall at Polly sniggering with her friends. I knew I should tell Mandy, but the thought of her making a big thing out of it in front of everyone, asking if anyone knew anything, was even worse. And anyway, it's not as if Polly was going to come clean. I mean there was more chance of me singing my solo than of her owning up and saying she did it. I managed to stay out of her way for the rest of the session but I knew I'd have to face up to the situation sooner or later.

On Thursday Dad came to meet me from school. Ever since that day when he talked to me about losing his job – he's been turning up once or twice a week to walk me home. He never comes in – so Mum doesn't know – but it's not like it's a really big secret or anything.

We walked along in silence for a few minutes and then he started to tell me about this couple he'd met over Christmas at the
Life
centre, and the problems they'd been having in their marriage. I didn't really get why he was bothering to tell me about two people I'd never even met, but after a bit I wondered if he might be trying to tell me something without actually telling me; like some hidden clue about him and Mum. He'd just got to a really good bit about how the centre was helping them to work things out when we saw beaky-nose Burton coming towards us and we both groaned.

“It's absolutely disgusting,” she shouted, striding towards us. “There's still rubbish in the bins and it's been
how
many days since Christmas? I don't know why we bother paying our council tax, I really don't. And have you noticed that some people are
not
using their recycling boxes?”

“I'm so sorry, Valerie,” said Dad waving his arm at her, “but we really can't stop. We're right in the middle of a deep, transcendental meditation and any sudden or unexpected disturbances might be fatal.”

Valerie opened her mouth and then shut it again and then opened it again but nothing came out. As we walked past her, Dad started to hum and I joined in trying to keep a straight face. I didn't even know what transcendental meditation was but it was the first time I'd ever seen Valerie Burton lost for words and I felt like cheering or something. Dad looked over at me and smiled mid-hum, and just for a second it was like it used to be before everything went wrong.

The following Saturday Mandy arrived with some of the costumes.

“Pop into the toilets with these,” she said, handing them round. “I've made three basic sizes so I might need to adjust some of them. The boys have got trousers to match the dresses and this is your Gobstopper costume, Polly.” She handed Polly a black, silky jumpsuit. “The rest of the costumes will be ready next week.”

“There is no way I'm wearing this!” cried Polly, screwing up her face and holding the jumpsuit out in front of her as if it was diseased or something.