Bryony Bell's Star Turn (6 page)

Later that morning, when Bryony and Abid took their places on stage, it was clear from her look of misery that Mrs Quigg had not seen Ken Undrum's romantic revelation.

Abid, however, had felt it wise to check, and asked politely whether she had seen the first Breakfast with the Bells show. Giving him a distracted look, Mrs Quigg had shaken her head then thumped down wearily on the piano stool.

‘You can always tell by her hair when she's upset,' Abid whispered to Bryony as he gave her a leg-up onto Jeremy's back. ‘Takes on a life of its own.'

Bryony took hold of Abid's tea towel and drew him close. ‘You're
positive
there's no Mr Quigg?' she whispered urgently.

‘I told you,' Abid whispered back. ‘She's always saying “My late husband Nigel”. That means he's passed away.'

‘Then there's just the matter of her name…' Bryony said thoughtfully. ‘We have to find out whether she really
was
Cornelia Merryweather.'

Mrs Quigg, who had been playing the opening number very softly, suddenly looked straight up at Bryony, and Bryony blushed.

‘I trust,' she said nippily, ‘that the donkey, the Virgin Mary, and the Virgin Mary's husband are ready to plod to Bethlehem without anyone sustaining major injury?'

Both parts of the donkey nodded as best they could and Abid gave Bryony his most compassionate look. Taking a large handful of Jeremy's jumper, Bryony gazed up to where Mrs Ogilvie had fixed a large, gold-foil star. The star had patterns cut out of it and a light inside. It was fixed to a length of rope, and a series of pulleys enabled it to lead the holy couple to their various ports of call. As the lights dimmed, it twinkled magically.

With the dimming of the lights, an eerie silence fell over the hall. Bryony glanced over to the wings, where Angelina was waiting for Mrs Quigg to play the introductory bars of the ‘Wearily to Bethlehem' song.

But the introductory bars never came.

Bryony and Abid peered through the silent, starlit darkness. All that could be heard was a faint sniffing from the direction of the piano. Abid walked over to the edge of the stage and sat down.

‘I've said it all along,' Mrs Quigg told him softly between sniffs. ‘The show just doesn't work without a Big Number.'

Bryony heaved herself off Jeremy's back. Motioning to Angelina to follow her, she joined Abid. Tears now wracked Mrs Quigg's body.

‘Every waking minute I have tried, but to no avail,' she sobbed. ‘I simply cannot call that song to mind. It is almost as if I were forbidden ever to hear it again…'

Angelina gave Bryony a nudge. ‘That's your Mr Undrum up to his tricks,' she whispered. ‘Bet you any money he hypnotised her, all those years ago.'

Bryony looked admiringly at her. ‘Of
course
!' she whispered back. ‘You're a genius, Angelina.' Then she jumped off the stage. ‘Cheer up, Mrs Quigg,' she said, with a knowing glance at Angelina. ‘All you need to do is
wish upon a star
…'

For a fleeting second, recognition flashed over
Mrs Quigg's face and she seemed about to smile. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the look was gone, leaving her even more sorrowful than before. ‘I am afraid, Bryony,' she shook her head mournfully, ‘it has to be faced. The show has no Big Number, and all the wishing in the world won't get it one.'

Abid stood up. Angelina and Bryony linked arms. All three smiled from ear to ear.

‘OH, YES IT
HAS
!' they chorused, and as Mrs Quigg gazed up at them in complete bewilderment, Bryony whispered, ‘You tell her.'

Angelina stepped forward, paused dramatically for a moment, then spoke.

‘Bryony and me are going to give you a Big Number, Mrs Quigg,' she said sweetly. ‘Bryony wrote the first verse this morning on the way to school.

‘I'm going to help her write the rest,' she went on proudly, ‘'cause Bryony says I've got a way with words, don't you, Bryony?'

Bryony nodded and patted Angelina's arm encouragingly. ‘Now that we've got the tune,' she told Mrs Quigg, ‘we're half-way there. That's what our mum always says.'

‘Two Bells,' Abid pointed out, ‘are better than one. Your Big Number's as good as written.'

‘There's just one thing though,' Angelina continued, even more sweetly than before.

‘A teensy-weensy alteration,' Abid added casually.

‘Just a tweak…'

Angelina drew in breath. ‘Bryony and me'd have to change parts,' she said, speaking very quickly. ‘Bryony'd make a perfect angel in her
lovely white skating dress. And Abid and me'd do the Big Number as a duet.'

‘Close two-part harmony,' Abid put in, wiggling his eyebrows seductively. ‘It'll knock 'em dead!'

Bryony bit her lip as Mrs Quigg considered all this. The silence was broken by a soft thud as Jeremy fell over. ‘Not so much strain on the donkey either,' Bryony pointed out. ‘Angelina's lighter.'

‘Like to hear the first verse, Mrs Quigg?' Abid said finally, leading Angelina to the centre of the stage, dusting Jeremy down, and settling her on his back. Then, in the clearest, purest, harmony, Abid and Angelina began to sing and as the last chord faded and the singers turned and bowed to their music teacher, Bryony leant over and whispered in her ear.

‘And if you think
that's
good, just wait till you see my Multitude of the Heavenly Host on skates. The audience isn't going to know what hit them!' Then, with a wink to Angelina and Abid, she added, ‘And of course, the whole thing'll be captured on camera…'

It took several minutes for all this to sink in, and Bryony, Abid and Angelina stood, fascinated,
watching the change that came over Mrs Quigg as realisation dawned.

‘On camera?' she breathed. A reddish glow began to brighten her cheeks. ‘Wh-whatever do you mean?'

‘Breakfast with the Bells,' Bryony said promptly. ‘The show that's all set to “revolutionise the nation's breakfast time”.'

‘The producer wants the Nativity play to be the outside-broadcast Christmas special,' Abid went on. ‘You'll be famous, Mrs Quigg.'

But Mrs Quigg seemed to have stopped listening. ‘Your Big Number, Bryony…' she breathed. ‘I'm sure that's the song that's lost in the mists of time… I'm sure that was
my
song…' And she gazed up at the twinkling golden star, her brow furrowed with the effort of remembering.

Bryony looked at Abid, and squeezed Angelina's hand. In reply, Abid smiled back and Angelina gave her an answering squeeze. ‘Go on,' she whispered.

Bryony cleared her throat. ‘Mrs Quigg,' she said nervously, ‘does the name
Ken Undrum
mean anything to you? Because he's longing to meet you again.'

There was no reply, but the furrow on Mrs Quigg's brow cleared and a smile began to grow on her lips. Eyes still fixed skywards, she began to hum the ‘When You Wish Upon A Star' melody. The more she hummed, the wider her smile became and as the last strains died, she spoke.

‘Ken Undrum,' she whispered. ‘Hearing that name again is like waking from a deep, deep sleep… “When You Wish Upon A Star” was
my
song,' she went on dreamily. Then, as much to herself as to Bryony, she added the magic words, ‘It was
our
song…'

For a moment Bryony did not dare speak. Then, very softly, in case she broke the spell, she said, ‘So you are Cornelia Merryweather?'

Mrs Quigg nodded. ‘Nigel always felt Cornelia was a bit showy,' she explained. ‘So, ever since we married, it's been plain old Nell. But now,' she said, closing the piano lid decisively, ‘I do believe it can be Cornelia again.' She stood up and gazed starwards. ‘I'd love to meet Ken again,' she murmured. ‘And I'd love to meet him right here, under a star, with our song playing in the background, just like before. Do you think that might be possible?'

Bryony glanced at Abid and Angelina. Without a word, all three nodded. Then, misty-eyed, they gazed down at their music teacher's radiant face. And, for the next few silent moments, it was as though the years had slipped away and Nell Quigg was once more the English Nightingale smiling at her true love, under a starry Broadway sky.

When Bryony and Angelina came home from school, the events of the day had made them unusually quiet.

Clarissa, who was busy handing out mince pies to everyone, gave them a curious look. ‘You two all right?' she asked, and they nodded.

‘Hunky-dory,' said Angelina.

‘Never been better,' said Bryony.

Clarissa opened her mouth, then closed it rather impatiently. ‘Won't waste my breath asking what's going on,' she said, opening the kitchen door and peering out at the blizzard that was raging. ‘I'm sure all will be revealed in the fullness of time, and now I must feed your father before the potting shed's completely cut off from civilisation.'

Then, cradling Big Bob's mince pie lovingly to her breast, Clarissa set off.

‘I'm going to give Melody and Melissa some
extra practice while I'm out,' she called back to Bryony and Angelina. ‘Be darlings and do the chips, will you?'

Bryony tipped a load of potatoes into the sink. Angelina fetched a knife and a chopping board and waited patiently as Bryony began to peel. ‘It's so
utterly
romantic, isn't it,' she said at last.

‘Never seen anything
more
romantic,' Bryony agreed happily, handing Angelina a potato to chop.

‘But shouldn't we tell Mr Undrum?' Angelina asked.

Bryony shook her head. ‘Not till the day of the Nativity play,' she said decisively. ‘If Mrs Quigg's got her heart set on meeting under a star with their song playing in the background, that's what Mrs Quigg's going to get.'

Angelina's face lit up. ‘You're right,' she nodded. ‘And I bet Trish'll love the surprise element.'

‘What a TV moment!' Bryony agreed. ‘And another thing,' she added as she plunged her scraper into the water with renewed vigour, ‘Mr Undrum's always springing surprises on people. This time,
he'll
get the surprise of his life!' She handed some potatoes to Angelina.

‘There's one thing that puzzles me, Bryony,' Angelina said. ‘Why
did
Mr Undrum hypnotise Cornelia so she couldn't remember the song?'

‘So she'd be spared the misery of thinking about her lost love,' Bryony explained solemnly. ‘Poor Mr Undrum really thought she'd be better off with Nigel the banker, but he knew that secretly she'd always hanker after him.'

‘I see…' said Angelina, thoughtfully quartering one of the potatoes. ‘Mr Undrum knew that every time
he
heard the song he'd be dead upset, and he wanted to spare Cornelia the same pain.'

Bryony faced her sister squarely. ‘Exactly,' she said. ‘Mr Undrum meant well.'

She put down her potato scraper and braced herself. ‘You know, Angelina,' she said, ‘you really have misjudged Mr Undrum. Hypnotism isn't just about making people eat onions and gluing their hands together.'

Angelina frowned. ‘What do you mean?'

‘Well,' said Bryony carefully, ‘hypnosis can help people. Have you noticed that Abid's asthma's gone?'

‘Really?' said Angelina. ‘Mr Undrum hypnotised it away?'

‘You bet,' said Bryony. ‘Five minutes with the old crystal pendulum, and now Abid's utterly wheeze-free.

‘And another thing,' she added, crossing her fingers as she did, ‘hypnotism can cure phobias.'

‘Phobias?' Angelina said, baffled. ‘What's phobias?'

‘Really big fears,' Bryony told her, reaching into her pocket and taking out a piece of string threaded with a glass bead.

‘Not as flashy as Mr Undrum's,' she said apologetically, ‘but it does the trick.' And she began to swing the bead back and forth.

‘A phobia…' Angelina repeated thoughtfully. ‘But we don't know anyone who's got one of them, do we?'

There was a howl of wind as the door opened. Big Bob tumbled inside, pulled off his coat and shook snow all over Bryony, Angelina, and the pieces of potato.

‘Chips – capital!' he smiled, rubbing his hands together. ‘Your mum's digging the youngest
Broadway Belles
out of the music studio, girls, so I'll just go and have a nice hot bath.'

‘Hang on,' said Bryony, grabbing him firmly by the strap of his dungarees. ‘This will only take
a moment, but it will change your life forever.'

Then she led him to the table, sat him down, and swung the glass bead back and forth in front of his nose. Angelina looked on anxiously.

‘Follow the crystal,' Bryony intoned.

Obligingly, Big Bob obeyed.

‘Now,' said Bryony, ‘I want you to picture yourself on board a big aeroplane…'