Maya's Secret (9 page)

Emily was just about to start telling Ali where to get off when Nick Drayton, of all people, waded in instead. “Shut up, Ali. You’re just jealous. If you had a famous mum, we’d never hear the end of it. Maya, do you think your mum would sign an autograph for my mum? Your mum’s her favourite singer, she’s got all her CDs.”

“Ooh, and mine!” Loads more people were asking now, and Ali sat down, seething.

“Maya’s mum’s coming to the fashion show.” Izzy had her business head on. “If your mum comes too, Maya’s mum could sign her CDs.”

“And she’ll do photos. But you’d better tell your mum to get a ticket quick, they’ve almost sold out,” Maya added.

“You liar!” Emily whispered admiringly, as Mr Finlay yelled at everyone to sit down, and half the class muttered to each other about making their mums buy tickets at the end of school.

“I know, but it’s nearly true.” Maya smiled. “They
will
be almost sold out.”

“It’s just marketing,” Izzy said approvingly. “But you realise if we sell out, that means a hundred and twenty people coming to watch this show.”

Maya swallowed. “Ye-es. Maybe we’d better have a production meeting at break, do you think?”

“Wow.” Maya walked further into the hall and looked around. “It looks…”

“Exactly the same as it always does, except with something that could just about be a catwalk if you look at it sideways on a good day?” Emily asked.

“Um, yeah.”

“I know. It isn’t exactly rock and roll, is it?”

Mr Finlay had given the girls the Monday afternoon out of class, so they could get the hall ready for the first rehearsal with all the models after school that evening. The stage blocks were in place – and Izzy had made a note on the List to give Mr Sampson some Fairtrade chocolate to say thank you – but otherwise, it looked (and smelled) like the place where they had PE. And assembly. And rainy lunchtimes. It wasn’t inspiring.

“It’ll look better with the lights dimmed,” Izzy said, trying to sound hopeful. “Mr Finlay’s going to put spotlights on the catwalk, remember.”

“It just looks a bit boring, though,” Poppy sighed. “We need a backdrop, or something.”

“A what?” Maya asked her.

“Like a wall decoration. And something cool to go over those screens.” Poppy nodded at the blue display screens that Mr Sampson had set up across the back of the hall, covering the staffroom door so there was a backstage area.

“Hang on. Can’t we use the back wall as the screen for the projector?” Izzy asked. “Usually it’s the other way round, because we sit that way for assembly, but there’s no reason it couldn’t go on to the wall. And then we can have Poppy’s poster design as a backdrop, when there’s nothing else on the screen.”

“That would definitely cheer it up,” Maya agreed. “Poppy…”

Poppy eyed her warily. “What?”

“Could you paint something to go over those screens? Some more things like the little birds?”

“By tomorrow?” Poppy asked.

“Yes.”

Poppy sighed. “I’m just going to ask Mr Lucas in the art room if he’s got any dust sheets. Or something.” She grinned. “Have fun moving a hundred and twenty chairs!”

Even though they’d teased Izzy about the List, Maya was grateful for it by the time all the models arrived after school. Izzy was just so organised. She’d also bullied her dad – who wasn’t all that keen on watching a fashion show – into being in charge of refreshments. Emily’s hunch had been right, and the Health Organics shop had donated Fairtrade tea and coffee and sugar in exchange for a big mention in the programme. Poppy’s mum was making six batches of biscuits at that very moment, and they’d used some of the ticket money to buy her the Fairtrade ingredients.

But the List wasn’t much help for dealing with a load of eighteen-year-olds, who were wandering around the hall, going, “Aaaawww! They’re all so little! Aren’t they cute?” And, “I wonder if Mrs Angel still goes on about polishing shoes,” and lots of other stupid stuff, instead of listening to Izzy, who was trying to get everyone’s attention and answer about six questions at the same time.

In the end Emily got fed up, and jumped on to the catwalk. “Oi! Can you all listen, please!” she yelled at the top of her voice, and for once, everyone did. Even Ali and Lucy, who’d been standing over Poppy and making rude comments about her painting. If
they didn’t watch it, Maya reckoned she was about thirty seconds away from painting their shoes.

“Tara will be here with the clothes in a minute, and she’s going to put them on rails in the staffroom,” said Izzy. There was a chorus of
oohs
at this, as everyone, even the eighteen-year-olds, realised they were going to get to go into the staffroom. “They’re all labelled, and you’ve got to make sure everything goes back on the right hanger! Miss Grace is going to help with that, and she’ll be there tomorrow to help you do quick changes as well.”

Maya beamed gratefully at Miss Grace. She was being a total star.

“Anything else?” Emily hissed at Izzy.

“Mr Finlay’s just trying out the lights and the music, and as soon as Tara gets here, we’ll get started. Oh, you can’t leave any stuff in here – it’s all got to go in the staffroom, like it will tomorrow.”

“She’s coming!” Maya rushed over to open the doors for Tara and Leah, who were dragging two huge rails of clothes.

“Everyone find a spot to change in the staffroom!” Emily yelled, after Izzy had whispered in her ear.

“It looks amazing,” Maya whispered, half an hour later. “Ooops, where’s the next two?” Then
she giggled as Ali shot out on to the catwalk, having obviously just been shoved on in a hurry by Emily. Ali turned round and glared at her, and stomped down the catwalk looking a lot less model-like than usual. Lucy, who was meant to be with her, just didn’t turn up at all. Izzy made a note on her glitches page, tutting.

But it did look good, even with the mistakes, Maya agreed. The lights and the backdrop made a huge difference, and the clothes looked gorgeous.

“Let’s just hope it goes as well tomorrow,” Izzy muttered, as all the models posed together at the very end. “Fingers crossed.”

“That’s a TV camera!” Emily squeaked. “I didn’t really believe we’d be on TV!”

A reporter in a very smart purple suit was chatting to Maya’s mum, and Maya tucked her hands behind her back to stop herself nibbling her nails. She was so nervous. The hall was filling up already, and Mrs Brooker, who’d agreed to come and take the tickets, had told her that she’d actually had to turn some people away. They’d stuck big SOLD OUT labels over the posters, but obviously people had hoped they’d be able to blag their way in.

“I wish I hadn’t said we’d do this presentation,” she muttered to Poppy.

Poppy hugged her. “You’ll be fine. I brought some of my herb tea, do you want some? It’s very good for nerves.”

Maya laughed, and felt a bit better. “No, thanks. I’ll be OK.”

“Are you two ready? It’s nearly seven,” Mr Finlay reminded them.

Maya swallowed, and nodded. It definitely wouldn’t have been a good idea to have the tea – she felt like she might throw up.

They were doing their bit from the side of the catwalk, so they didn’t have to come on from the staffroom, just hurry up the steps. They hovered close by, and then the main hall lights went down, and the backdrop changed from the
Welcome to Our Fairtrade Fashion Show!
slide, to one saying
What’s Fairtrade All About?

Maya could see her mum and dad standing at the side of the hall – no seats left, then! Her mum blew her a kiss. Maya tried to think of all those full chairs as money for building the school, instead of people staring at her, and started to talk.

Afterwards, she was never quite sure if they actually
did all of their presentation. It certainly didn’t seem to take very long, and there were bits she was sure she didn’t remember saying. Still, people clapped a lot, and at least it was done. She scrambled down the steps and waited anxiously next to Izzy at the edge of the hall as the music began, while Emily scowled at her little brother and whispered something in his ear that could well have been a death threat.

But he and Lara walked down the catwalk beautifully, and the audience purred at them. Maya could hear it – “Oh, aren’t they sweet!”

“It’s going so well,” Izzy whispered, her eyes glittering excitedly in a flash of the stage lights. “Everyone’s on time, even. And that’s the last of the girls – now they just have to all come back on.”

Maya nodded, and sighed with relief as the whole group paraded back down. Only the older girls to go now.

They were about halfway through when someone tapped her shoulder. “Maya! Come on! You too, Izzy.”

“What is it?” Maya’s heart thumped painfully. What had gone wrong?

“A surprise. Come on, you have to go round the back.” Maya’s mum hurried them behind the
screens in the dark, and quickly stuffed them into the staffroom, which was full of people scuffling around for clothes and cursing in whispers as buttons wouldn’t do up and lipstick got smudged. Miss Grace and Tara were racing around like mad things, sorting everybody out.

“We’ve just got time, hurry up!” Tara pushed a pile of clothes into Maya’s arms. “Get changed!”

“What?”

Her mum smiled at her. “Maya, you’ve got to go on – all of you! This was all your idea. Tara’s picked out amazing clothes for you all. Emily’s already wearing hers, I told her beforehand, she couldn’t have stopped to change now. Hurry up, you’ve only got about two minutes!”

Maya pulled on the little purple flowery dress – it looked good with her silver flip-flops, luckily – and let Tara push some pink flowery clips into her hair.

The rest of the models were pouring out on to the catwalk now, all the girls from school, too, for the end of the show.

Mr Finlay turned the music down a little, and announced, “Now a huge thank you to the organisers of tonight’s fashion show – Maya, Emily, Izzy and Poppy! And our special guest, India Kell!”

Maya’s mum grabbed Maya and Emily and pulled them up the steps on to the catwalk.

Maya blinked at the lights. Everyone was clapping! And she could see a red light on the TV camera – they were filming this bit.

“Wave!” Poppy muttered, and Maya did as she was told. She really couldn’t believe they’d organised all this. And it had worked!

Her mum hugged her at the end of the catwalk, and the others too. “I’m so, so proud of you,” she whispered in Maya’s ear, and Maya nodded, and smiled up at her gratefully.

“Me too…”