The Time of Your Life (2 page)

Holly: Icing on the Cake of Happiness

'I really hope Cat's right!' Holly sighed as Cat left.

'Aha! That's just what Lady Macbeth said,' Nick
intoned in a mysterious
Lord-of-the-Rings-prophecy
kind of voice.

'What?' Belle scoffed. 'Lady Macbeth said,
I really
hope Cat's right?
I don't remember that line!'

'Not that!' Nick laughed, batting her on the head
with a cushion. 'The
don't panic, I've got it all totally under
control
bit – Lady M said it when she was persuading
Macbeth to stick the knife in. Or words to that effect,
anyway! And look where it got
her . . .
' He mimed a
throat-slitting action.

'Well, Cat's not exactly planning to
murder
anyone,'
Belle said impatiently.

'No, but she's taking advanced drama,' Holly said,
'and advanced Latin dance. Plus, touch wood, she'll
have the leading role in the play – there'll be hundreds
of rehearsals.'

'And her school work, of course, and band practice,'
Nick added. Holly, Belle and Cat had formed a girl
group, Nobody's Angels, shortly after arriving at
Superstar High and had won a Highly Commended
in the talent competition before half-term. Somehow,
Nick had appointed himself as their unofficial band
manager!

'Yeah – and time-management isn't exactly Cat's
strong point,' Belle said.

That's true,
Holly thought. Cat was always oversleeping,
putting things off to the last minute, and
missing deadlines. It was part of what made Cat so
lovably . . . well, Cat!

It hadn't been too disastrous so far, apart from a few
near-miss detention situations in Mrs Salmon's science
class. But things were going to get much tougher from
now on.

For the first half-term all the new students had
attended the same lessons: school subjects in the
mornings, then core singing, dancing and acting classes
in the afternoons. But now they'd been placed into
their ability-sets for school subjects, and, on top of the
core performance classes on Monday to Wednesday
afternoons – which everyone still had to do – they
were all taking specialist options, known as
advanced
classes,
on Thursday and Friday afternoons.

Dance was Holly's passion, and she was taking the
advanced dance classes, which covered ballet, modern,
jazz, tap and Latin. But although she had a good voice
and loved singing in Nobody's Angels, she hadn't got
into advanced singing yet; the standard was incredibly
high. At least she was able to do an advanced musical
theatre class, which included singing and which she
loved – her dream was to star in West End and
Broadway shows.

Belle was the musical one with the fabulous voice.
She was in all the advanced singing classes and took
piano and music theory lessons,
and
she was in the
top set for every school subject! Belle's half-term
report had been a glittering galaxy of A-stars. It
wasn't
just
because she was smart, hard-working and
organized; there was also the minor incentive that
her dad had threatened to pull her out of the Garrick
and send her to a 'normal' school if she didn't get
perfect grades.

They were
all
going to be busy, but Holly knew that
Cat would have to switch into high-octane turbo-drive
if she was going to keep up with all her commitments.

'See you at the Redgrave in a few minutes!' Nick
declared, leaping up from the sofa. 'I'm going to call for
Zak on the way.'

Holly looked around contentedly as he disappeared
through the back door into the courtyard. The
entrance hall was a favourite meeting place. It was
bustling with staff and students hurrying from classes to
after-school activities, checking their pigeon holes for
messages, or just stopping to chat with friends. Holly
still couldn't believe that she was actually
part
of
Superstar High.

It was the kind of place where
anything
could
happen . . .

And usually did!

In fact, Holly thought, she was officially the luckiest
girl in the world.

Great school, great friends – she even had a great
room-mate, ever since Bianca 'Furious Girl' Hayford
had thrown a strop and demanded she move out of
their room and swap with Lettie Atkins.

Holly's new room-mate, Gemma Dalrymple, was a
down-to-earth Australian girl who was almost as crazy
about dancing as Holly was – and, most importantly,
didn't go into nuclear meltdown if Holly stepped onto
her side of the room.

Oh, and then, of course, ever since the gala showcase
party just before half-term, she'd also had a great
boyfriend!

Holly found her thoughts drifting. She was re-living
the moment – the scent of roses, the sound of party
poppers, Ethan's sea-green eyes . . .
her first kiss.
Holly's
thoughts did a lot of drifting these days. She had to
keep reminding herself that she hadn't dreamed the
whole thing – that Ethan Cool-and-popular-captain-of-the-football-team-and-all-round-Year-Ten-superstar
Reed was her real, live boyfriend! He was the icing on
Holly's Cake of Happiness: thick, double-chocolate-fudge
icing . . .

. . . with rainbow sprinkles on top!

'Ooh, sorry – what?' Holly asked, snapping herself
back to reality.

Belle twitched her perfect eyebrows in a knowing
smile. 'I was talking about Cat,' she said. 'It was lovely
staying at her house for half-term, but her mum was
on at her nonstop to try out for big West End
musicals. She says it's the only way to break into the
big time.'

'But how's Cat going to find time to trek round to
professional auditions?' Holly asked.

'I don't know,' Belle sighed. 'She's going to be
swamped. That's why I'm only going for a minor part
in
Macbeth.
I want time to have a
life!'

'And Cat doesn't even
want
to do musical theatre.'
Holly shook her head. She knew Cat's dream was to be
a classical actress – performing in Shakespearean
tragedies and ultra-serious award-winning plays.
'Definitely not
The Lion King
or
The Sound of Music
–
I can't see Cat skipping around singing about whiskers
on kittens and apple strudel . . .' she added. 'Shame, I
love that song!'

'Me too,' Belle replied, grinning. Next moment they
were singing harmonies on
My Favourite Things.

Holly heard voices and turned to look over the back
of the sofa. She stopped mid-note as she noticed an
unfamiliar tall boy with shoulder-length brown
hair slouching against the school secretary's desk on
the other side of the hall. 'Hey, who's
that?'
she
whispered.

Belle's beautiful singing voice trailed away and
she joined Holly in spying over the back of the sofa as
Miss Candlemas, the housemistress, hurried into the
room, swathed in her multi-coloured scarves, beads
and bangles.

Mrs Butterworth, the secretary, scooted out from
behind her desk on her trusty swivel chair. 'Ah, there
you are!' she grumbled, peering at Miss Candlemas
over the gold frames of her glasses. 'Better late than
never!'

Ignoring Mrs Butterworth's comment, Miss
Candlemas beamed at the mystery boy. 'All aboard for
the grand tour! Jump to it!'

The boy grinned, stood up straight and
saluted cheekily.

'The entrance hall lies at the heart of the original
seventeenth-century building,'
Miss Candlemas recited as
they crossed towards the dining room.

'. . .
which served as the grand ballroom in Regency
times . .
.' Holly and Belle exchanged grins as they
whispered the words in chorus. The speech was identical
to the one Miss Candlemas had given when she showed
them round the school at the beginning of September!

Holly laughed. 'Do you remember Nick Taggart
doing his tour-guide act?'

'Yeah, it would be hard to forget!' Belle groaned.

'And how . . .' Holly's voice faded away as she realized
that Belle was no longer listening. Her lavender-blue
eyes had zoomed in towards the dining-room door.

Belle was
gawping
at the boy!

Holly hadn't realized that she was physically capable
of doing anything as
uncool
as gawping, but that was the
only word for the transfixed expression on her face.
Holly looked at the boy more carefully.

His light brown hair was slightly dishevelled – but in
a good I'm-too-cool-to-fuss-with-my-hair kind of
way. He shook it back now and then to reveal hazel
eyes and high, angular cheekbones. Not that Holly
noticed such things, of course, now that she had a
boyfriend. There was something pirate-like, something
of the Johnny-Depp-as-Captain-Jack-Sparrow in
his swagger and the rebellious glint in his eyes.

'Maybe he's thinking of applying here for next year,'
Holly whispered. 'Not that you'd be
interested
or
anything!' she added, grinning.

But Belle hadn't heard – or hadn't yet regained the
power of speech. Holly couldn't be sure which.

It was time to set off to watch the auditions, and
Holly and Belle followed the tour party out into the
courtyard. Pirate Boy held the door open for them. He
seemed to catch Belle's eye and stare at her for a brief
moment before hurrying after Miss Candlemas and her
call of 'No shilly-shallying now!'

Holly could hardly believe her eyes: Belle's perfect
complexion – usually cream with a hint of peach –
was slowly turning to raspberry with a hint of beetroot.

Belle was blushing!

But Belle didn't
do
blushing! Holly couldn't have
been more surprised if her friend had started wearing
jumble-sale dungarees and granny-knitted Bob the
Builder tank tops. Gawping
and
blushing? Belle would
be thrown out of the International Cool-as-a-Polar-Bear-with-Frostbite
Club if she wasn't careful.

Belle: X-Ray Vision and Thought Waves

The
Macbeth
auditions were about to start.

Belle followed Holly into the Redgrave – Superstar
High's beautiful theatre – and settled down in a red
velvet seat. There was a buzz of expectant chatter
among the audience of students who'd come along to
support their friends. Belle couldn't wait to hear Cat's
Lady Macbeth speech; she'd helped her practise all
through the half-term holiday and knew that it was
going to be something very special.

The warm, wood-polish-and-dust scent of the
theatre sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through
Belle's veins. The last time she'd been here, she'd been
on stage, singing in the talent show with Holly and Cat
in Nobody's Angels. It had been an
awesome
experience,
but she vividly remembered that split-second of blind
terror when she'd spotted the famous vocal coach, Larry
Shapiro, sitting with the other judges in the front row.
Belle's ambition in life was to be an internationally
acclaimed singer – the next Mariah Carey or Leona
Lewis. She'd never have forgiven herself if she'd stuffed
up in front of such an illustrious judge in her very first
term at Superstar High – and she had
almost
crumpled
under the pressure! But luckily it had all gone fabulously
well, and Larry Shapiro had even complimented her
afterwards on her vocal technique.

But today the judges' seats were occupied by the
casting panel, huddled importantly over their clipboards.
Belle recognized Mr Grampian, the head of Drama.
Next to him sat the play's assistant director, Duncan
Gillespie, a Year Ten boy with thick dark hair, stiffly
ridged like chocolate frosting, and then the director, a
thin, wiry man who looked like a long-distance
runner. Belle recognized him as Mr Simon Sharpe, the
Garrick's Shakespeare expert.

She took a deep breath, letting the adrenaline ebb
away. She was so relieved she wasn't auditioning today.
The auditions for the minor parts – like the Messenger
role Belle hoped for – would be taking place tomorrow.

'And the award for best actress . . . goes to . . . Catrin
Wickham
. . .' a dramatic Hollywood-celebrity voice
boomed behind her.

Belle turned round. No surprise – it was Nick Taggart
chortling with his friends Zak Lomax, Frankie Pellegrini
and Mason Lee as they bundled into their seats.

'Shh!' Mr Sharpe hissed. 'Quiet,
please!'
He glared
in the direction of the disturbance, his small
frameless glasses flashing like cats' eyes as they caught
the light.

Belle cringed, but at that moment Lettie Atkins
tiptoed in. She waved to Belle and Holly before sitting
down next to Nick and engaging him in an intense
conversation about sound-editing. Lettie, a softly
spoken girl with long chestnut hair and serious
brown eyes, was a super-talented musician, and was
working on the musical arrangement for the play. 'We
could fade in that creepy clarinet solo whenever
the Three Witches appear,' she whispered, and – for
once – Nick didn't answer with a wisecrack, but
nodded thoughtfully.

'The commencement of auditions is imminent,'
Mr Grampian announced.

Belle and Holly turned to each other and grinned.
Mr Grampian always spoke like that. 'Why use one short
word when ten long ones will do?' Holly whispered.

'Ethan Reed for the part of Banquo!' Duncan
Gillespie announced.

It's so sweet how Holly's ears glow whenever Ethan's name
is mentioned,
Belle thought.
Luckily it's not as noticeable
with her lovely caramel skin as it would be for me.

Not that Belle made a habit of blushing, of course.

But then an uncomfortable image suddenly popped
into her mind.
That boy in the hall . . .
She'd felt her face
burning then. It was the way he'd looked at her! As if
he had x-ray vision and could read her innermost
thoughts – the
really
deep-down ones she wasn't quite
sure of herself.

And – this was ridiculous! – she could actually feel
her face flushing and her stomach fluttering just at the
memory
of it. She wasn't sure whether she liked the
feeling or hated it, but she was sure of one thing: she'd
never felt like this before.

Anyway, she wasn't going to waste any more time
thinking about some random boy who'd given her a
funny look. She'd probably never see him again anyway.

'Nathan Almeida for the part of Macduff!' Mr
Sharpe shouted.

Belle realized she'd missed Ethan's entire speech,
but from the way Holly was smiling, it had obviously
gone well.

She watched intently as Nathan gave a stellar
performance as Macduff, reading the speech where he
finds out that Macbeth has slain his entire family. He
was so convincing, Belle sniffed back a tear as she
joined in the round of enthusiastic applause.

'Bianca Hayford for Hecate, Goddess of the Witches!'
Duncan called, flipping pages on his clipboard.

'Perfect casting!' Belle heard Nick chuckle behind her.
'Bianca as Queen Witch – she won't even have to try!'

Holly giggled and Belle couldn't help grinning.
She'd first crossed swords with Bianca before they'd
even got through the front door of Superstar High, in
a heated exchange over their matching Louis Vuitton
luggage collections.

And things had basically gone downhill ever since.
Bianca seemed to have made it her Mission In Life to
score points off Belle at every possible opportunity.
Belle did her best to
rise above it,
but there was only so
much rising a girl could do . . .

However she had to admit that Bianca's audition was
excellent. She was wearing a white dress (from the new
Versace winter collection, Belle noticed – Bianca must
have been out spending her allowance over half-term;
the Hayfords were a
very
wealthy family who'd
made millions from their baby-food business, as
Bianca was very keen to tell everyone – the millions
part, that is, not the baby-food part). With her pale
blonde hair pulled back from her face, she looked as
cold and sinister as the Narnia Snow Queen – without
the Turkish Delight.

'Two-minute break, then Catrin Wickham for the
part of Lady M,' Duncan announced.

'Finally . . .' Belle breathed, grabbing Holly's hand
in excitement.

'Did you notice he said
Lady M?'
Nick 'whispered'
at high-decibel shouting volume in Belle's ear. 'It's bad
luck to say the name in a theatre.'

'What name?' Belle asked.

'Well, duh! I'm not going to say it, am I?' Nick
laughed. 'The name of this play . . .'

'What? You mean
Mac
—' Belle started, but he leaned
forward and clamped his hand over her mouth.

'It's supposed to be like a curse or something!'
Holly explained.

'Wicked!' Zak exclaimed.

'Oomph!' Belle muttered from behind Nick's
sweaty palm.

There was another round of glowering and shushing
from the casting panel.

Why did Nick always have to drag her into his crazy
comic routines? Belle wondered as he finally peeled his
hand off her face. She remembered how she'd thought
Nick was a
total dork
when she first met him. And he
definitely still had some dorkish tendencies, but over
the weeks he'd proved to be a true and loyal friend and
she'd secretly grown very fond of him.
Fond!
That
made the poor boy sound like a pet guinea pig or
something. In fact, now she thought about it, Nick
did
look a little like a guinea pig with his thatch of thick,
sandy hair! Holly and Cat insisted that Nick teased and
played jokes on Belle because he had a crush on her –
it was a typical boy-thing, they said. Belle wasn't
convinced . . .

She felt Holly grip her arm as Cat staggered onto
the stage, paused and closed her eyes for a long
moment. Then she lurched forward, raised her hands in
front of her and stared sightlessly out into the audience.
She'd teased her vibrant red curls into a wild tangle and
looked totally deranged. Belle watched, enthralled, as
Cat became the tormented, sleepwalking Lady
Macbeth, frantically trying to wash her hands of the
blood of the murdered King.

'Out, damn spot! out I say!'
she cried.

The entire audience was spellbound, erupting with
applause at the end of the speech.

'She
has
to get the part after that,' Belle breathed,
rubbing her arm where Holly's nails had left
crescent-shaped imprints.

But there was strong competition. Five other girls
auditioned for Lady M, all of them older students in
Years Nine and Ten, except for one: Mayu Tanaka –
best friend and sidekick of Bianca Hayford – and
possibly the only girl in their year with a meaner
mean-streak. As Mayu spoke the words,
'Fill me from
the crown to the toe top-full, Of direst cruelty . .
.' Belle
shivered. Mayu looked so sweet with her bunches and
doll-like face – and somehow that made the dastardly
speech seem doubly evil. But then, all of a sudden,
Mayu's voice faltered. She stared, saucer-eyed, into the
audience. She'd forgotten her words! Belle couldn't
help feeling sorry for her.

There was a long pause, broken only by muffled
coughs from the audience, until finally Mr Grampian
said kindly, 'Thank you, Mayu. I believe we have
sufficient material to guide our deliberations.'

Mayu opened and closed her mouth, and then
turned and shuffled slowly offstage.

That's the first time,
Belle thought,
that I've ever seen
Mayu at a loss for something nasty to say!

She gazed at the casting panel as they conferred over
their notes. She screwed up her eyes, straining to
transmit her thoughts into the backs of their heads by
means of telepathy:
Cat for Lady Macbeth, Cat for Lady
Macbeth . . .

Oops!
she thought.
I hope the ban on saying the M-word
in a theatre doesn't apply to
thought waves
as well as actual
speech. Otherwise I've just put a double curse on Cat's chances.

'Are you OK?' Holly asked. 'You look as if you've
got a headache?'

Belle crossed her fingers.

Maybe that would be safer!