Dancer at Silver Spires (5 page)

“Do anything then. You're totally talented, Izzy! None of us get why you don't go to junior ballet club.”

I had to be firm about this so we could drop the subject. “I told you, I don't do ballet any more. I was just mucking about.”

But Emily was gripping the shelf with her right hand. “Is this right, Izzy?” She tried to turn her feet into first position, but it made her bottom stick out. So then she arched her back, which made her stomach push forwards. There was no way I could correct her. I wouldn't know where to start. “I can't even stand in the proper position!” she wailed. “Just show me how to stand, Iz. Go on!”

I decided it would be best to get it over with, so I prepared in first position with my arm to the side, feeling really self-conscious, especially when I saw that Emily was watching me intently.

“Don't bother to teach me,” she suddenly said in a voice of sighs that I'd never heard her use before. “There's no way in a trillion years that I'd be able to look like you.” Then she laughed. “I'll just stick to horse riding, I think.”

I laughed too, and tried to change the conversation quickly. “Do you want to come over to the art block with me? I was just going to help Sasha paint scenery for the play.”

“No, it's okay. My mum sent me the latest issue of my horsey magazine and I want to read it from cover to cover once I've hung this wet stuff up.”

“Okay, see you later, then.”

“Yeah, see ya!”

So off I went. But my footsteps felt heavy as I made my way to the art block. My secret world had been invaded and I wasn't comfortable with that.

In one way it was a good thing it had been Emily and not one of the others who'd caught me doing ballet. Emily is the most scatty of us all, in a lovely way, and she's not that interested in anything except horses and gardening and farming. There was quite a good chance that she'd simply forget about seeing me in the drying room and never mention it to the others.

I felt happier by the time I reached the art block. But not completely happy. There was still the voice of the
other me
, gabbling urgently to the
new me…

Even if Emily doesn't say anything, someone will one day, because you're not going to stop practising ballet. Not ever. You love it too much.

On Sunday evening we went to the common room to play our favourite game, Uno. But we'd only just dealt out the cards for the first round when Maria and Olivia came crashing in, both out of breath. They were wearing ballet tights with leg warmers, and tracksuit tops, and both moved like dancers, despite their trainers. Even when they flopped down on one of the sofas, it was a graceful movement and I could tell they were ballet trained. I knew I wasn't the only one of my friends to think so either, because Emily was supposed to be playing the first card, only she was too busy staring at Maria and Olivia.

“Go on, Emily,” I said quietly, worrying like mad in case she made a connection between Maria and Olivia being dancers, and me, and came out with something about my ballet exercises in the drying room. I'd spent the rest of the day before feeling tense, waiting for Emily to bring it up, but when bedtime arrived and she hadn't said a word, I'd begun to relax. I'd hardly given it a thought today, but now suddenly I was having to worry all over again.

“Oh yes!” said Emily, her eyes jerking back to the game. She frowned at her cards as if she was forcing herself to concentrate.

But then came Maria's dramatic voice: “I'm completely exhausted, aren't you, Liv?”

I noticed Bryony give Emily a look as if to say,
Those two really fancy themselves, don't they?
but Emily didn't notice. She was back to staring at the two older girls and I so wished she'd stop so we could just get on with the game. But the others seemed as mesmerized by Maria and Olivia as Emily was. There was something about their presence that made you want to look at them. Maria had tucked her feet underneath her and was resting her arm in a graceful way on the back of the sofa.

Olivia was leaning forwards with a completely straight back, taking off her trainers. Then she pulled off her socks and started massaging her toes. “I don't know what we're going to do without Abi, you know.”

There were some Year Nines in the common room. They'd looked as though they were absolutely glued to something on telly, but the moment they realized who was talking, they seemed to lose interest in what they were watching, as one by one they turned their attention to Olivia and Maria.

“Have you two just been to rehearsal?” asked a girl called Alice, brightly.

Olivia drew a deep breath and when she spoke her voice sounded low and serious. “Yes, and we've got a big problem.”

“Why? What's up?” asked another one of the Year Nines.

“Abi's done something to her leg,” said Maria.

There were gasps from the Year Nines. “She's your best dancer, isn't she?” said someone else.

I saw Olivia kind of flinch. “She's got the biggest part, if that's what you mean,” she answered in a bit of a snap.

“And now we're stuck not knowing whether someone else ought to take over her role in case the hamstring injury is serious and long term, or whether to just carry on as we are and hope she gets better in time,” Maria explained. “But I can't tell you what a hard dance it is and it's practically impossible with one person missing.”

“Who's Abi?” Emily suddenly piped up.

Maria and Olivia glanced across at our table for no more than a second, then as soon as they saw we were a bunch of Year Sevens, turned straight back to the Year Nines without even bothering to answer.

Alice gave Emily an answer though. “Abi is a brilliant ballet dancer in Year Ten. She's in Oakley House.”

Olivia sighed loudly. “I'm just going to have to learn Abi's part as well as my own,” she said.

“Or I could learn it, if you want,” said Maria.

“No, it's okay, I'll learn it,” said Olivia, quickly. Then she got up and went across to the far side of the common room, walking with her feet turned right out. I thought she looked a bit silly and instantly felt anxious in case I looked that silly when I walked. When you've done a lot of ballet training you can't help walking with your feet turned out a bit, but not as much as Olivia's.

I think every single pair of eyes in the common room was on Olivia as she took her tracksuit top off and dropped it on the floor. She was wearing a tight ballet top underneath, and I had to admit her arms and shoulders looked really strong and supple. It seemed like she knew she was the centre of attention and was showing off how flexible she was as she dropped in slow motion into the splits, with her right leg in front, then turned and shifted her weight so she was in the sideways splits.

“Oh wow! You're so supple, Olivia. That's amazing!” said a girl called Dee.

And as the other Year Nines all agreed in murmurs, I noticed they'd now paused the DVD they were watching.

The look in Maria's eyes changed and I realized she was jealous. I don't think she liked everyone watching Olivia, and it suddenly seemed odd that the two girls acted like such friends and yet they weren't really.

Olivia moved smoothly into a shape on her stomach, then rolled over gracefully and sat up. “This is where we help Abi up, isn't it?” she said to Maria, as though they were practising all on their own somewhere, instead of in a crowded common room full of admiring girls. I looked round my friends and saw that Bryony was restless. Our eyes met and she grinned at me, then shook her head slightly as if to say,
What a show-off!
I grinned back, feeling relieved that I wasn't the only one to think that. But the others were still staring in admiration as Maria went across and helped Olivia to her feet, then broke into a sequence of
pas de bourrées, chassés
and
pirouettes
. It wasn't a difficult combination of steps but it looked impressive and the Year Nines broke into applause.

Olivia ignored them and began to unfold her leg into a
developpé
and Maria pouted. “It's not fair! Why do I have to be the one to use my left leg for that bit?”

“For the balance of the dance, of course,” said Olivia.

“But why can't
you
do the left-legged
developpé
and I'll do the right-legged one? It's much easier.”

Olivia waved her hand dismissively. “Whatever. I'm equally supple on both sides.”

I suddenly felt desperate to get out of this room. There was something stifling me and it wasn't just the horrible rivalry between the two girls. It was the fact they were doing ballet right in front of me. I don't know why, but a picture of Mum flashed through my mind. It was a time when she'd given up chocolate for Lent and my brother was teasing her by eating some Belgian chocolates that Claire had bought him, right in front of Mum. At first Mum had just laughed, but I'll never forget the envious look on her face as she watched Max eating more and more of them and talking with his mouth full about how delicious they were.

“I usually think ballet's quite boring, but when I watch you two, I wish I'd learned it myself,” said Dee, bringing me back to the here and now. “I can't wait to see the show.”

“The show will be cool. We've got a great routine in the jazz dance club,” said a really nice girl called Meg.

Dee nodded hard. “I remember the jazz group last year. They were brilliant.”

“Well, I saw some Year Eights practising a tap routine in the sports hall yesterday,” said Alice. “And I tell you, it looked amazing!”

“At least the juniors are doing
something
!” said Olivia, moving her arms through an
adage
that I recognized from an exam I'd done.

“You're so graceful, Olivia,” said Dee.

Olivia didn't reply, but I could tell from her face that she was pleased.

“Aren't the juniors doing very much in the show then?” Emily asked.

It was Meg who replied. “Yes, there are a few doing tap and pop, but I think Olivia means there's no one doing ballet.”

My heart thudded.

“The junior ballet club hasn't got any talent at all,” said Maria, pulling a face. “I watched them last week. Miss Morgan told me afterwards that it might have to fold because people keep dropping out and no one seems really committed.”

“Yeah, but it's not really to do with being committed,” said Meg, looking a bit scared to be speaking out against Maria. “I was in that club last year, and we performed in the show and everyone in the audience seemed a bit bored. It wasn't fair, because it's so hard to make ballet look good. I mean it's miles easier with jazz and disco and stuff.”

“Exactly,” said Olivia. “That's 'cos ballet is way more difficult than any other sort of dance, so you have to work harder at it. And quite honestly, unless you've done loads of training before you come to Silver Spires, like right up to grade five or something, you're not going to be able to carry off a performance.”

“Izzy's great at ballet!” Emily suddenly said. And I felt as though someone had poured ice cubes down my spine. I just froze.

Then one of the Year Nines looked over at our table and asked which of us was Izzy, and Emily got up and pointed at me. I could have died. Olivia and Maria shot me the quickest glance in the world as they carried straight on with what they were doing.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sasha and Emily exchange a look. I couldn't see Sasha's face, but Emily immediately turned her palms up innocently. “What?” she said indignantly. “She
is
good. I've seen her. I know!”

“No, I'm not,” I said quietly. It sounded pathetic, but I didn't know what else to say.

“Let's get on with the game!” said Sasha. “Come on, Emily. It's you to start.”

And as if she'd issued a command, the frozen picture on the TV screen sprang back into life for a few seconds, before someone switched it off altogether and the Year Nine girls trooped out, chatting.

“We'll watch it another time, yeah?”

“Yes, I've forgotten what was going on now.”

“The dance show's going to be great!”

“I know. I can't wait!”

And a moment later Olivia put her socks and shoes back on and she and Maria left the common room too, almost as though there was no point practising in there when there was only a bunch of Year Sevens watching them.

In one way it was a relief when everyone had gone out, but my whole body was still tense, and with Emily's next words I felt as though I was standing at the very edge of a cliff.

“Why don't you go to junior ballet club, Iz?” She laid her cards down on the table suddenly. “I mean, you heard what they said about how it might have to fold. I bet you'd easily be the best. In fact, I reckon you could even be better than Maria and Olivia, actually!”