Annabel's Starring Role (4 page)

Annabel took a deep breath. “Um, excuse me?”

The teachers turned round, looking surprised.

“Annabel!” Ms Loftus sounded pleased. “We didn't notice you were there. Have you seen the cast list? Congratulations!” She turned to Mr Hatton. “This is Annabel Ryan, she's playing Cinderella. She really shone in the auditions on Tuesday.”

Normally Annabel would have been preening at this, but instead she flinched at the dreaded word, Tuesday – would Mr Hatton notice?

It seemed he did. He frowned slightly, and then in a politely interested voice, one that the triplets recognized from French – it meant he was about to go ballistic if he got the wrong answer – he murmured, “Tuesday? Now, that
is
interesting. I had the distinct impression that you were in detention on Tuesday, Annabel.”

Annabel, for once, was tongue-tied, but she finally managed to mutter, “Um, yes. I was. But I wasn't. If you see what I mean.”

“No.” Mr Hatton was now tapping his finger on his chin – another bad sign.

Katie broke in – Annabel obviously wasn't getting anywhere. “We swapped,” she admitted, deciding just to get it over with. “I did Annabel's detention so she could go to the audition.”

Ms Loftus seemed shocked, and Annabel gave her a miserable, apologetic look.

“Why are you telling me this now?” asked Mr Hatton, sweetly.

Katie flushed, but answered, “Because someone else is going to tell you anyway.”

“Well, at least you're honest – sometimes. You didn't consider coming and explaining all this before Tuesday afternoon?”

“We didn't think you'd listen,” Annabel whispered unhappily.

This was quite true, of course, and Mr Hatton could see that she meant it. “After your disgraceful behaviour in my lesson, it would have been perfectly reasonable to stop you going to the audition. However, if you'd had the sense to ask, I would have rearranged your detention. But you preferred to be sly and underhand instead.” He watched the triplets shrink slightly. “You should be ashamed of yourselves – using your appearance to deceive people like that.”

He went on like this for some time, and even Katie was having trouble holding back tears. It made it worse that Ms Loftus was nodding along grimly. Mr Hatton seemed to know an enormous number of words for dishonest, and he used all of them. He finished off by setting each of them a huge chunk of French exercises to do (he apparently knew their textbook off by heart, scarily enough), different bits for each of them, as “Obviously I can't trust you not to copy from each other if I give you the same work to do.” He gave Becky slightly less than the others, but told her she should have had the sense to stop them, so he wasn't letting her off.

Eventually, the triplets slunk away, still cringing. It wasn't until they were halfway home that Annabel stopped in the middle of the pavement.

“What?” asked Katie, grumpily. She'd decided that she was definitely never, ever doing anything like that again.

“I've just realized – it worked. He made me feel so awful that I hadn't thought about it, but Amy and Max are going to go through with that stupid plan tomorrow, and it'll all be for nothing. I'm still going to be in the play!”

Chapter Four

Annabel didn't think she'd ever seen anyone look quite so frustrated as Amy at half-past ten on Thursday morning. She and Cara and Emily had been carefully parroting their prepared sentences for ages now, and Mr Hatton was showing no sign of getting the hint. He seemed fairly pleased with their sudden interest in French conversation, but that was about it. Amy lapsed into a mulish silence, and Mr Hatton turned to the rest of the class. He asked, in French, whether anyone else was going to be in the play. The entire class stared back at him with looks of polite incomprehension on their faces. No one had a clue what he'd just said. Mr Hatton sighed, and started to go through his sentence again on the board. As he explained each word, Amy brightened up – Mr Hatton was actually going along the right lines now.

“So—” he turned back from the board – “
Qui d'autre jouera dans la pièce?
”

Several hands went up, Annabel's included, and Amy held her breath. Surely, after all the times she'd said the auditions were on Tuesday after school, he
had
to make the connection? Yes! He was picking on Annabel.

Two minutes later, Amy was practically banging her head against the desk, and Cara and Emily were looking confused. How could a
teacher
be this stupid? All right, he had just told Annabel that her grammar, vocabulary and accent were despicable, which would usually have been quite satisfying, but that wasn't the point right now. And the triplets were looking unbearably smug for some reason. It was almost as though they knew … but they couldn't. Could they? She caught Annabel's eye, and all at once it was obvious that they did. Annabel's triumphant grin just couldn't mean anything else. Amy ground her teeth. How did the triplets
always
manage to come out on top? Well, somehow she was going to get Annabel Ryan – she didn't know how just yet, but darling Cinderella had better watch out…

 

That afternoon was the first rehearsal for the play. Annabel and Saima were in the hall less than two minutes after the bell went. The rest of the cast trickled in gradually, chatting to each other about the play and their parts. Eventually Ms Loftus strode in, looking pleased to see everyone there already. She was followed by various other members of staff – Mr Becket, the Music teacher who'd been at the auditions; Mrs Cranmer, one of the Art teachers; Miss Davies, the Textiles teacher, and, scarily enough, Mr Hatton.

“What's
he
doing here?” muttered Annabel to Saima in horror.

“No idea,” Saima mouthed back at once, wide-eyed.

Ms Loftus stood in the middle of the hall, with the other teachers gathered slightly sheepishly around her. “Hello everybody, and welcome to our first rehearsal! Now, we don't have a huge amount of time – only five weeks until the performance!” Everyone groaned. “So we need to work really hard. Because there's a lot to do in a short time, I've been lucky enough to get lots of other staff to help, as you can see. Mrs Cranmer will be doing scenery and Miss Davies will be organizing the costumes, which is great, and they'll be asking for volunteers to help out. They'll be making lists of people at the end of the rehearsal, so have a think about that, please. Mr Becket is in charge of the singing, as you know, and I'm delighted to say that Mr Hatton will be giving me a hand with the direction and the backstage crew.”

Mr Hatton smiled grimly, and everyone in the cast stared back, slightly gobsmacked. He was the last teacher they'd expect to be helping with the school play – it was more his style to be complaining about the amount of homework time it took up.

“So, let's get going everyone. Mr Becket has your scripts” – the Music teacher was struggling under a huge pile of paper – “so if you could take one each. And please remember that that is
your only copy
.”
As a Drama teacher, Ms Loftus was perfectly able to breathe accents of death into those words. “If you lose your script, I will
not
be giving you another one. You'll just have to borrow one and photocopy it.”

The entire cast descended on Mr Becket, who had the sense to dump the scripts on the stage and run before he disappeared under the flailing mass. Eventually, everyone had managed to secure a script, and people trotted back to their perches, eager to see how many lines they'd ended up with.

Annabel flicked excitedly through the script, nodding with pleasure as she saw how many of the pages Cinderella appeared on. By about two-thirds of the way through, she was starting to look a little anxious. She looked over at Saima, who was reading her big scene, where she transformed Annabel, and obviously imagining herself in a glittery Fairy Godmother costume.

Saima glanced up, and grinned at her. “Isn't this brilliant? I'm so excited.” Then she appeared to read Annabel's mind. “You know, you've got loads of words. It's a fantastic part. And two solos as well.”

“Mmmmm.” Annabel smiled, but rather worriedly.

Saima looked more carefully at her. “Are you panicking about learning the lines?”

“A bit. I hadn't thought there'd be so many. I'm on almost every page!”

“It'll be OK. You've got Becky and Katie to help you learn them, for a start – my mum and dad are always so busy, I can't see them having much time to test me.”

Annabel brightened up. Saima was right. “I bet Katie and Becky will help you too. And I will – we've got one scene we can practise together, anyway.” She grinned happily at Saima – this was going to be so cool! Then her smile deepened – Josh Matthews was heading in her direction – was he coming to talk to them?

“Hi! You had a look through the script?”

“Mmm. It's good, isn't it?” Annabel stammered slightly from nervousness – he was so good-looking!

“Did you notice page thirty-six?”

“Er, no, I don't think so.” Annabel riffled through the script. The ballroom scene – she smiled to herself, imagining the gorgeous dress she'd be wearing. Oh! She'd just noticed the stage directions – the prince was supposed to kiss Cinderella! Annabel blushed very pink and looked up at Josh. “Oh yes…” she murmured rather lamely. Well, what was she supposed to say when she found out that a boy she really, really liked was going to be kissing her in front of half the school?

Josh grinned, and turned to go. “Well, see you!”

“Um, yeah,” Annabel muttered, and gazed after him with a slightly glazed look in her eyes.

“An-na-bel! Wake up!” Saima was giggling. “Stop it, you look as though you're about to fall at his feet. You have to be a
little bit
hard to get!”

Annabel jumped. “Sorry! I just hadn't realized – I suppose it's obvious that the prince kisses Cinderella, but I didn't think about it. Wow.” She hugged the script to herself tightly – this play was just getting better and better!

 

Ms Loftus had given them a quick rundown of this version of
Cinderella
at the audition, so she was eager to get straight on with the play now. It started with an introductory scene set several years before the rest of the play, when Cinderella was a baby. Annabel kept half an eye on what was happening onstage while she read carefully through her first scene – she didn't want to be like the people up there now. The two Year Nines had had no chance to see what they were saying before they had to say it, and they were stumbling and giggling in embarrassment. The next scene was at the palace, with Amy as the queen. She was good – Annabel had to admit it, grudgingly. She told herself that Amy's stuck-up manners suited the part.

“Very nice, Amy!” Ms Loftus sounded really pleased at the end of the scene, and Amy smiled at her sweetly.

The smile changed to a grimace as she came offstage and headed straight for Annabel. “You see? That's proper acting, Annabel. Ms Loftus is going to be really sorry she picked you for Cinderella. Just try not to ruin the whole thing, OK?” She flounced off before Annabel could think of anything suitably nasty to say back.

“Just ignore her,” said Saima. “You'll be brilliant, she'll see,” she added loyally. Annabel tried to smile – she
had
been feeling really confident, but Amy had a way of getting to people. It was such a huge part – could she really do it? There was no more time to worry about it, though, her first scene was now. She went up onstage, and tried very hard to concentrate on Saima and Ms Loftus beaming at her, and not see Amy's carefully pitying expression.

Cinderella was meant to be sweeping the kitchen on her own – there wasn't even anyone to keep her company onstage! Annabel gulped, and started off nervously – remember to project her voice, not stare at the ground, put feeling into the words – there was so much to think about! And she had to cope with Ms Loftus calling directions for “blocking”, where she wanted Annabel to move. But by the time two Year Nine boys came on as the Ugly Sisters to bully her, Annabel was starting to get into it. Joe and Pete were really fun, and they were overacting massively, so Annabel played up to them – it was so much easier when there was someone else to act with!

“What did you think?” she asked Saima anxiously as soon as she came back into the main hall. “Was I OK? Tell me!”

“Definitely,” said Saima firmly. “You were fab. A lot better than Her Majesty over there, so don't let her get to you, all right?”

The rest of the rehearsal went really well, Annabel thought. Ms Loftus did look a bit panicked in some places, but she was still just about smiling by the time she called a halt. Annabel was feeling so upbeat by then that she went a bit overboard when Ms Loftus reminded them about volunteers for backstage crew and set and costumes.

Saima watched in surprise as Annabel merrily added her entire family to the various lists – Katie to work backstage, Becky to paint the set, her mum to make costumes. Miss Davies looked over Annabel's shoulder as she scrawled Mrs Ryan's name on her list.

“Oh good. Is your mum good at sewing, Annabel? I was hoping someone would volunteer to make your ballgown – I've got an awful lot of costumes to make, and the dress pattern I've got isn't difficult, but it's going to take a bit of time, it's quite fancy.”

Quite fancy? Annabel shivered delightedly. She wanted it as fancy as possible. “I'm sure she could make it, Miss Davies. She likes sewing.”

Miss Davies lost no time in loading Annabel down with the pattern and the fabric – gorgeous silvery-lilac stuff, with sparkly bits, which had Annabel looking like a Cheshire cat, and Saima just the teensiest bit jealous.

Miss Davies caught the look, though, and grinned at her. “Don't worry, Saima, you've got something along the same lines but in gold – you'll look lovely.”

 

Saima and Annabel walked home in a blissful silence, imagining their beautiful dresses. Shortly before they got to the Ryans' house, Saima woke up enough to say, “I didn't know your mum liked sewing.”

“Oh, she does.” Annabel nodded happily. This was perfectly true, but when Annabel got home and broke the news of her mother's new role, Mrs Ryan looked horrified.

“Oh, Annabel, why?” she wailed. “I've got loads of work on at the moment, you really should have asked me first.”

Annabel looked hurt. “But you like sewing. I thought you'd
want
to make my ballgown.”

Mrs Ryan looked at Annabel's hurt face, all huge blue eyes, and backtracked. “Sweetheart, I do want to, it's just that this looks like a really complicated dress to make. I don't want to spoil it for you.” She sighed, took a big gulp of coffee, and looked back down at the pattern instructions. “Well, I can try, I suppose. These things always look worse than they really are. But honestly, what on earth's
that
bit?” She stabbed a finger worriedly at a small piece that looked as though it really couldn't fit anywhere on a dress.

Katie and Becky, who'd been watching, peered over at the pattern.

“Twenty-six – waistband reinforcement panel. It's for when Annabel gets fat,” giggled Katie.

Annabel looked speculatively at her. “You're helping too, you know.”

“What? I'm not making dresses, Bel, you know I'm no good at sewing.”

“I put you down for helping backstage. I thought you'd like that. Lights and stuff – you know.” Annabel waved a hand airily.

“Oh, great! And what's Becky? Your personal slave?”

Annabel smiled at Becky. “I said you'd help paint scenery. That's OK, isn't it? You like art, and you like Mrs Cranmer – she's organizing it.”

Becky looked pleased – unlike Katie, she wasn't bothered by Annabel arranging stuff for her, as long as it was something she'd like! “Cool. Do you think I could ask David if he wants to help too?”

Annabel rolled her eyes. “Course you can, silly. More the better, I should think. You can go and paint together – awww!”

Becky just grinned good-naturedly. She was getting used to Annabel's teasing, and she knew it was partly because her sister was a weeny bit jealous.

“Really, Annabel,” Mrs Ryan was trying hard to sound cross in the face of Annabel's enthusiasm. “You should have asked everybody before you did all this. I know you're excited about the play, but you can't just assume that everybody else will be too.”

Annabel looked innocent. “But you are, aren't you?” she asked, gazing hopefully round at her mother and sisters. “And you will do it?”

“Yes,” chorused her family, in long-suffering tones.

Annabel beamed. Perhaps this was not the moment to admit that she'd volunteered Fran and Megan as well…