Rebecca's Rules (18 page)

Excellent day! I was having a nice quiet drum this morning when my mum, of all people, said something that gave me an idea.

‘You know I really support your, um, drumming dreams,’ she said. ‘But I kind of miss the days when all your drums lived in someone else’s house.’

And that’s when I got the idea (after I had asked my rude mother to get out of my room). For once I had some credit on
my phone so I rang Cass straight away.

‘Cass!’ I said. ‘Would your parents mind if we took over your front room for a bit this afternoon?’

‘Um, no,’ said Cass. ‘They’ve gone to one of Nick’s stupid football matches. I refused to go. But why?’

And I told her my amazing idea.

‘What if I carry over my snare drum to your house and we have a mini band practice with your piano? Obviously you can’t make all the sounds from the keyboard, and I’ll only have my snare and not a full kit, but it’d be something. It would be like a mini band practice and it’ll keep the songs fresh in our minds.’

‘Ooh,’ said Cass. ‘That is a good idea.’ Then of course she got all dithery, like she does almost every time we suggested doing something new with the band. ‘What if we actually have forgotten all the songs? It’s been weeks and weeks!’

I told her not to be silly and that I’d be over in twenty minutes. Actually, it took longer than that because once I left the house and started carrying the drum down the road the edges of it kept digging into my fingers, so every so often I had to take a break and let it rest on a wall or something. But I got there in the end. And it’s a good thing I did because it
turned out we definitely were out of practice. But it all started coming back to us as the afternoon went on, even though Cass couldn’t play her keyboard noises and I could only do some very basic drumming. And it reminded me of how much I love the band. By the time I lugged the drum home again I was singing all our songs in my head.

It’s funny, sometimes when I think of Paperboy I feel all sad. But whenever I am doing something interesting I don’t feel sad at all.

I think I might be getting … not over him. I don’t even want to do that. I don’t want to have anything to get over. But I think I am getting better.

MONDAY

Ugh, every time I think Mrs Harrington has forgotten about my mother she starts going on about her again. It’s not as bad as last term when she was like a crazy stalker, but it’s still quite bad. She obviously had a bright idea over the weekend because today when the class was finishing up she said, ‘So Rebecca, are your parents coming to that musical of yours?’

‘Um, yes,’ I said.

‘I don’t suppose you know which night they’re coming? The Friday or the Saturday?’ she said.

‘I don’t know yet,’ I said. ‘I mean, it’s not for a few weeks. Why?’

‘Oh, I’d just love to get to meet your mammy at last,’ said Mrs Harrington. ‘I can tell her about my holiday a few years ago. My husband and I went around the country staying in places mentioned in your mammy’s books.’

Good lord.

‘Did he mind?’ I said. ‘Your husband, I mean.’

‘Oh no,’ said Mrs Harrington, looking surprised by the very idea. ‘He’s a big Rosie Carberry fan too!’

There is no way I am letting Mrs Harrington (and her possibly equally mad husband) loose on my mum if I can help it. Not because of my mum (she deserves it, if you ask me), but because it would just fuel Mrs Harrington’s mania. I thought they were going to come face to face at the end of last term at the parent-teacher night, but, luckily, Mum had a terrible cold so only my dad went. Anyway, I’ll just find out what day my parents are going and tell Mrs Harrington it’s the other one. It’s a bit mean, but it’s for her own good.

Rehearsals are really heating up again. I was talking to John
during the break (I went out for some fresh air while Alice was talking to Bike Boy and there he was. He really shouldn’t smoke. Not only is it bad for him but he’ll get into loads of trouble if he’s caught) and he said he keeps dreaming about Mr Banks’s songs. I can’t believe it’ll all be over in a few weeks. It seems like the musical is just our life now.

TUESDAY

Daisy rang my mum this evening and I answered the phone. Because Mum was in the kitchen talking to Maria from round the corner who’d come over to drop over a shears or something (they always talk about gardening, so boring), I decided to ask Daisy about
The Pirates of Penzance.

‘Was it actually any good?’ I said. ‘I mean, do you remember it at all?’

I thought Daisy would say ‘Yes, and it was ridiculous.’ But no!

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘It was spectacular!’

‘Are you serious?’ I said. ‘Did Mum and Dad tell you to say that?’

‘What?’ she said, and I must admit she sounded genuinely
baffled. ‘No! It really was brilliant! I thought both your parents would go into the theatre professionally afterwards.’

I couldn’t believe it. But she swore she wasn’t joking.

‘Your mum brought real soul to the Pirate King,’ she said. ‘When she flew over the stage on a rope it was like poetry in motion. And your dad’s dance solo was out of this world. He got a standing ovation.’

I am gobsmacked. I think they must all have been mad in the ’80s. Maybe they were all on drugs. I mean, I’ve seen the photos. Not only that, but I KNOW MY PARENTS. I’ve seen my dad dancing at my cousin’s twenty-first. There is no way anyone ever gave those moves a standing ovation. And I find it very hard to believe that my mum hanging from a rope with huge hair was poetry in motion. I am not sure I can take Daisy seriously as a theatre critic anymore.

WEDNESDAY

Miss Kelly has surprised us by telling us she is going to go to the musical. I thought she’d be boycotting it because it’s using up so much energy, but no!

‘I have to see what seems to have been distracting half my
class for the last few months,’ she said grimly. ‘God knows what useful information you’ve missed when you were thinking about rehearsals instead of listening to me. I hope all this singing and dancing is worth it, girls.’

What Miss Kelly doesn’t appreciate is that we are learning other skills at rehearsals. Who would have thought a few weeks ago that Alice and I would turn into exemplary members of the chorus? We have become much more disciplined since the long-ago days when Cass could make us laugh just by looming up behind a cardboard car wearing a cactus on her head. Today when we were singing ‘Spoonful of Sugar’, Mrs Limond marched into the hall and flung off her giant fur coat and it landed on top of poor Ellie’s head. She was completely covered in coat and it took about five minutes for her to get out from under it. And I barely laughed at all. I have clearly grown up a lot recently.

Mrs Limond really is kind of terrifying, I don’t know why Ellie loves her so much. Ellie says that Mrs Limond is teaching her the ways of fashion, but I’m not sure how chucking coats over her is going to teach her anything. Weirdly, Mrs Limond seems to love John Kowalski and Bike Boy. ‘You two young men have excellent posture!’ she cried today. She was
so loud we could hear her all the way over on the other side of the hall. ‘You were born to wear suits!’ She doesn’t think I have excellent posture. Every time we have a fitting she tells me not to slouch.

‘You’re short enough as it is,’ she said. ‘I don’t see why you want to make yourself look even shorter.’

She has a point, I suppose, but still.

Even though Mrs Limond is mad and rude, the costumes are looking pretty good. I’ve got a sort of generic olden-day dress because it works for being a nanny and a person at the races and all that, and an excellent hat which somehow fits over my stupid mad hair. I love my costume. And Bike Boy and John Kowalski really do look dashing in their suits. Much better than in boring old school uniforms. I wish we could just wear our costumes to school instead. I think it would make school much more interesting.

THURSDAY

Oh my God, I think the downtrodden minion uprising may have begun at last!

Today, at lunchtime, Karen and Vanessa were going on in
their usual annoying way about how hard they were working and how they needed to practise every hour of every day.

‘My boyfriend Bernard has been a godsend,’ said Karen, sounding about forty-five. You’d think she’d been married to Bernard for twenty years instead of going out with him for about two minutes. ‘He really understands the work that goes into playing a leading role.’

‘We still need to work on our lines,’ said Vanessa. She turned to Alison and Caroline who were sitting there eating their lunches quietly.

‘Hey,’ she said. ‘I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you two help us with our lines now? It’ll help me and Karen and give you two something fun to do. Let’s go to the cloakroom now and go through the nursery scenes − you can have our scripts.’

‘Great idea,’ smarmed Karen. She and Vanessa got up to go.

But Alison and Caroline didn’t move. They just looked at each other and then Caroline said, in quite a nervous voice, ‘Actually, I think we’re going to stay here and finish our lunch.’

Vanessa just stared at her.

‘What?’ she said.

Caroline looked even more nervous. But then Alison said, ‘Yeah, we’re just going to have our sandwiches. You go and
practise, though. We’ll see you later.’

Karen and Vanessa looked as if, I dunno, a chair had started speaking to them. I have to admit that Karen looked a bit awkward. Maybe she was remembering the time Alison defied her at the Battle of the Bands and knew she couldn’t go too far. But Vanessa just looked annoyed. ‘God, I can’t believe you’re both so selfish. You’d prefer to eat sandwiches than help the stars of the school make the musical even better. Well, we’d better practise anyway. Come on, Karen!’ And off she marched. Karen looked like she was going to say something, but then she put her nose in the air and marched out after Vanessa.

I wanted to give Alison and Caroline a round of applause, but I didn’t. I just looked at them and nodded in a pleased sort of way. In retrospect, I might have looked a bit odd. But I couldn’t help it. I was delighted. The musical is truly bringing out the best in everyone. Even people who aren’t actually in it, which is especially impressive.

Actually, now I come to think of it, it’s definitely bringing out the worst in Karen and Vanessa. So maybe my theory is not correct. But still. It’s bringing out the best in some of us, and that has to be good.