Phoebe Finds Her Voice (14 page)

“Don't worry, love. We'll take him up a bit later. Everything's going to be all right. You'll see.”

Sara stayed in hospital for a few more days before they let her come home. Mum and Dad spent loads of time up there together but it didn't seem to help them get on. By the time Mum brought Sara home they were more or less ignoring each other and I couldn't imagine how they were ever going to sort things out.

Mum seemed to blame Dad for everything. She went on and on and on about how selfish he was and how he should grow up and get a proper job so that she didn't have to worry about everything all the time. But Dad didn't say anything to defend himself or explain
why
it was so difficult for him to find a new job, he just spent more and more time at the
Life
centre and less and less time with us.

When I got to Star Makers on Saturday, Mandy was busy handing out the rest of the costumes and it was such a relief to be back with everyone and away from all the dramas at home.

Adam had already changed into his costume and he looked amazing. He was wearing a really smart silver suit, a dark blue tie covered in silver stars and big silver boots. Neesha and the other Jelly-Skulls had black tops with a white outline of a skull on the front, and Monty B was prancing about in his pink tutu. But Sam looked the best. She had a blonde wig, these long, silver, high-heeled boots and a tiny, silver mini-dress.

“Hey! Don't even think about messing with the Ice Bomb,” she snarled, teetering around in her heels like a top fashion model.

“Oh, you all look fantastic,” Mandy said, excitedly. “Adam and Monty B, pop onto the stage, will you, and get the other costumes down. I'd like to see you all in your costumes just once so that I know everything's sorted for next week.”

Adam and Monty B jumped onto the stage and disappeared behind the velvet curtains, a cloud of dust rising up behind them.

“I'm just going to the loo to do my wig,” said Sam, and she staggered out of the room on her high-heels holding on to Ellie for support.

“Hey, Mandy, we can't see any dresses up here,” Adam called out a few seconds later.

Mandy ran her hand through her hair, which was a sort of dark purple colour and very spiky. “They're on the rail, boys, remember? Right at the back.”

“No, the
rail's
here,” Monty B popped his head back through the curtain, “but there are no dresses on it.”

“Of course they're there,” Mandy muttered. “Where else would they be?”

She jumped onto the stage and then leaped straight off again, out through the double-doors and down the corridor to Arthur's office. A minute later she stormed back into the hall with Arthur following a few steps behind. He had a hot drink in his hand and his beard was full of flaked-off bits of sausage roll or something.

“
BUT ARTHUR! WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY MUST HAVE BEEN SOLD?
” she shouted, waving her arms about, and for a second I was sure she was going to hit him. “
WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MINDS WOULD WANT TO BUY A BUNCH OF OLD PATCHED-UP DRESSES?
”

“I really
am
sorry, Mandy,” said Arthur, trying to walk out of the room backwards. “But you see, you err…left them on the stage and so Mrs. Beagle from the church fund-raising committee…erm…just assumed, erroneously as it turns out, that they'd been put there as part of the church jumble sale we had last Sunday. You surely must have noticed that there were lots of other old clothes up there stuffed into bags?” He took a few more steps back, muttering something about
all being fair in love and show business
.

“I just can't believe I'm hearing this,” said Mandy. “Do you realize how much work went into making those dresses? There's no way I can make them again before the production. The dress rehearsal is
next week
for goodness' sake.” She looked close to tears.

“What's going on?” Sam asked me, as she came back from the toilet.

“I'm not really sure, but it sounds as if someone called Mrs. Beagle sold all our costumes at the church jumble sale last Sunday afternoon.”

“No way! Who would want to buy some tatty, old dresses and trousers with patches sewn on?”

Mandy was still shouting at Arthur when he said he could hear the phone ringing in his office and practically skipped out of the room shouting, “The bells! The bells!”

“I must have done something really awful in another life to deserve this.” Mandy sighed, and then suddenly, without any warning at all, she threw back her head and started to laugh – but not in a funny ha ha sort of way; more in the way of someone who's finally lost their mind. She bent over, clutching hold of her stomach and groaning, and I wondered if one of us should call an ambulance.

“There must be another hall we could use,” she gasped, wiping her eyes. “There must, because I'm going to end up murdering that man if we stay here, I really am. Come on, everyone, let's sit down and try to work out what we're going to do.”

“Well, my mum's really good at sewing, Mandy,” I blurted out without even thinking. My face turned scarlet and everyone looked at me.

“Is she, Phoebe?” said Mandy. She'd stopped laughing now except for the odd snort.

“Yes, she's really good. She makes wedding dresses and stuff, but I'm not sure if she's actually free today because my sister isn't very well…and…” I trailed off, fiddling with my script. It still felt weird calling Miss Howell, Mandy, and that was the most I'd ever said in front of everyone at drama. I looked down at my hands, willing my face to return to its normal colour.

“Well, is there anyone else?” Mandy looked around the circle. “We need ten dresses and three pairs of trousers, so that's going to be way too much for one person.”

“There's always my nan,” Monty B said. “She's brilliant at knitting but she's very slow. She started knitting me this scarf about three years ago and she still hasn't finished. She says it might be ready by the time I get married! She's even going to sew on little reflector lights to keep me safe in the winter.”

“Ah, bless,” said Neesha.

“Oh, that reminds me, actually,” said Ellie. “My dad's a stage technician thingy and he said he'd be happy to come and help out with the lights if you want him to.”

“Do we ever! That would be fantastic, Ellie. I was going to attempt the lights myself, but then Arthur mentioned that he was a bit of a whiz at special effects and you can just imagine how thrilled I was about that! I'll give your dad a ring later.

“Okay, let's move on. We need to have a full run-through today. It's our last chance before the dress rehearsal. I don't want to see any scripts at all and I want a massive effort from everyone. No talking in between scenes, and try to be ready for your next entrance without me having to tell you.

“I'll try to get hold of your mum a bit later, Phoebe, to see if she can come to the rescue. And maybe Monty's nan will be able to help out too.”

The run-through went quite well even though Mandy did keep stopping us, reminding us to speak up, to sing from our bellies, to space ourselves properly and to make eye contact with the audience. We only managed Act One before the break and I said a little prayer that we wouldn't get to the end of Act Two, which was stupid really, because I was going to have to face up to my solo situation at some point. I had planned to talk to Mandy about it today, but there was no way I could mention it now that half the costumes had gone missing.

I was also going to ask Polly about her new brother, but as soon as I saw her at school on Monday, back with her friends whispering about something, their heads close together, I knew there was no way I was going to say anything. She hadn't actually been horrible to me since the hospital, but then she hadn't been particularly nice either. I looked across at her now. She was on the other side of the hall mucking about – acting like she didn't have a care in the world – but I knew she was covering up how she really felt.

In the break Mandy called Mum. I was sure she'd say she couldn't help out because she had Sara at home in bed recovering from a serious illness, and because the rest of the family was in pieces. But she didn't. According to Mandy, she said she'd love to help, but everyone would have to come over to ours because she couldn't leave Sara:
anything
to pretend things were normal!

As it turned out we didn't get to my solo in the end but we were getting closer and closer and I knew I couldn't avoid it for ever.

“There's just one more thing,” Mandy said before we went home. “The tickets are on sale from me. We're doing three performances so you really must try to get as many people as you can to come along. Adam's designed this brilliant poster for us to put up at school, and in the library, and other places like that – and I'll give some leaflets out to each of you next week. There's nothing worse than performing to a half-empty hall.”

Except performing to a
FULL
one, I thought, but I didn't say anything.

“Why did you invite everyone round to ours when Sara's so ill and everything?” I asked Mum the second Dad dropped me home.

She looked at me, bewildered, as if I was speaking in a different language or something. “I did it for you, Phoebs, to help out. Miss Howell said
you'd
suggested it, and after everything that's happened, with Sara and the hospital, I just wanted to…you know…do something for
you
. I even borrowed an extra machine from Mrs. Burton!”

I stood there thinking of all the things she could have done for me, like sort things out with Dad for a start. Their rows were getting worse and worse and I was dead scared that the further they grew apart, the harder it was going to be for them to get back together. So it's not as if offering to sew a few costumes was going to magically put things right.

I trudged upstairs and shut myself in my room. I couldn't believe that Monty B
and
Mandy were coming over – it was so embarrassing. I wouldn't be able to think of anything to say, and if Mum let Sara come down she'd probably go on and on about Monty B being my boyfriend or something.

I flopped down on my bed and stared at my poster of Donny. Sometimes I imagined him walking straight out of the poster and into my room. It would be so amazing if he could. I'd be able to ask him loads of stuff – like how I was ever going to find the courage to sing my solo for a start. Except knowing him he'd probably tell me to stick a smile on my face, slap a load of gel on my head and then repeat some ridiculous mantra.

“I am the World's Greatest Singer!” I said to myself, just for a joke. “I am the World's Greatest Singer and no one else in the Whole Entire Universe
or
Star Makers Drama Club can sing anywhere near as well as—”

“Get that, will you, Phoebe?” Mum called out, interrupting me mid-mantra. “I'm just taking Sara's temperature and someone's at the door.”

I ran a brush through my hair and traipsed back downstairs. Mum had cleared a huge space in the living room and set up
her
sewing machine on one side – and the one she'd borrowed from Mrs. Burton on the other.

“Hi, Frankie,” said Monty B, coming in with his nan. “This is going to be so cool.”

Just then Mum came down from Sara's room. “Why don't you and Monty B go and sort out some tea while we wait for Mandy to arrive,” she said, taking Monty B's nan into the living room.

In the kitchen I turned on the kettle and reached up to get some mugs down.

“How's your sister, by the way?” said Monty B, helping himself to a biscuit. “Ellie said she was really ill.”

“She was but she's much better now. Hey, you'll never guess who I saw when I was up at the hospital? Polly Carter. Her new brother had just been born and she was visiting him.”

Monty B pulled a face and stuffed another biscuit in his mouth. “Imagine having her as a sister. I think I'd rather be an only child!”