Polly Plays Her Part (11 page)

“Of course he will, don't be stupid. You get on okay at drama, don't you?”

“Yeah, but only because we do all our scenes together. And anyway I've got to get home. I promised Diane I'd babysit for Jake so she could pop out for a bit.”

“Oh, I'd love to babysit with you!” cried Phoebe. “That would be
so
much fun. I swear Jake's the cutest baby. Next time Diane asks you, tell me and I'll keep you company.”

When I got home Diane was in the living room with Jake. She hadn't really asked me to babysit, I just couldn't face going over to Phoebe's with Monty B. I tried to sneak past without saying hello but Diane called me in. They were crawling around on the floor together, but as soon as Jake saw me he stopped crawling and rolled over onto his back, kicking his legs in the air. I stayed where I was in the doorway.

“Don't ignore him, Polly. Look, he's rolled over specially.” She tickled Jake's tummy, telling him how clever he was. “Watch him for a minute, would you, while I make a cuppa.” She jumped up from the floor. “Do you want one?”

I shook my head and edged into the living room. Jake started to kick like mad and then he rolled back onto his front, and crawled over to me. I knelt down and picked him up under the arms. Sometimes I wished he was my
real
brother and not just my
half
brother. If he was my
real
brother I'd be the best big sister in the world. I'd look after him all the time. I'd feed him and bath him and play with him and do anything I could to help. It would be so exciting.

I used to nag Mum and Dad all the time to give me a little brother or sister when I was younger, but they would just laugh.

“We're busy enough looking after you,” Dad would say, shaking his head. “How would we ever find the time for another?”

But he did find the time. With Diane.

I carried Jake over to the sofa and sat him on my lap facing me. He reached out and clutched hold of my hair, pulling my face down to his, squealing and slobbering all over me. I tried to unclasp his fist but he was too strong.

“Let go, Jakey!” said Diane, coming in smiling. “He's got a grip of iron, that boy. How was school, Polly?”

“Fine,” I said, smiling back. That's all I seemed to say these days.
How was drama? Fine. How was school? Fine. How are you feeling? Fine.

And I was fine. Or I would be if everyone would just leave me alone.

I spent so much time chatting to Skye and the others in the Emerald room I hardly touched my script all week. I knew I'd be in trouble on Saturday, and even bigger trouble if Dad ever found out, but it was so exciting to see how many points I could earn. I carried on smiling and saying I was fine and pretending everything was okay and, in the meantime, I spent every spare moment hunched over the computer.

Dad and Diane nagged me to come downstairs and join in with them but I didn't want to, thanks very much. They were desperately trying to pretend we were one big happy family but it was such a joke. As if Diane
baking a few cookies
or
Dad dressing up as a bear and taking us all on a bear hunt
was going to make everything okay. I still hadn't told Dad about getting the biggest part in the show. I wasn't that bothered about it anyway.

On Friday night I stayed up really late chatting to Skye. We only needed a few more points to reach our goal of 200 and we were discussing our avatars. Skye was going to design a cute girly avatar with a funky hairstyle and loads of jewellery, but mine was going to be different. I hadn't decided how exactly, but it was going to be a sort of cat-girl with a studded collar and huge amber eyes. Her eyes would be so big she'd be able to “see” things before they actually happened.

“Imagine how cool that would be,” said Skye. “You'd be able to win the lottery and stuff because you'd know exactly which numbers to pick!”

Yeah, and you'd know your dad was going to fall in love with the neighbour and that your mum was going to scarper off to Spain for a year – so you could do something about it before it was too late.

When I went down for breakfast the next morning, Dad was showing Diane an article in the paper about the friend2friend website.

“Have you seen this, Polly?” he asked, passing the paper over. There was a picture of a girl who'd got into some sort of trouble on the site. I could feel myself start to burn up. I was dying to know what it said but I pushed the paper away, shaking my head.

“Polly wouldn't be silly enough to talk to strangers,” said Diane. “She's far too sensible. But you do look exhausted. Are you okay?”

“I'm fine. I just couldn't get off to sleep last night.”

“Early night then tonight,” said Dad. “And later on when you get home you can show me some of the websites you go on, just so I can make sure they're completely safe.”

I could see I was going to be in trouble the second I walked in to drama. Mandy was busy setting up the stage to look like Marcia's bedroom, with a desk and keyboard and everything, and it was obvious she was planning to run the first scene.

“Can I have a quick look at your script?” I asked Phoebe, grabbing her arm and steering her away from Mandy.

“I thought you already knew your lines?”

“I did learn them but that was days ago. I just want to make sure I haven't forgotten anything.”

Phoebe gave me her script, but it was hopeless. I didn't know the lines well enough at all. I read through the first page and tried to memorize as much as I could, but I needed more time. I asked Mandy if I could use a script just for today but she shook her head.

“Why don't you have a go without it, Polly, and see how you get on? It's the best way to feel secure with your part, you know.”

I climbed onto the stage and sat down at the desk. Everyone else made a line of chairs on the floor, ready to watch. There's this really long bit at the beginning where I'm playing on the computer and talking about the game, but I couldn't even remember how it started. Mandy kept prompting me but it didn't help. The odd word would sound familiar and I'd remember the next couple of words that came after it but then I'd go completely blank and she'd have to prompt me again.

“Polly, you don't seem to know it at all,” said Mandy. “What's going on? You were so excited about getting the part, you said you were going to learn your lines the second you got home. I think you'd better come and have a chat with me in the break.”

“Can't I just try again?” I pleaded, blushing a bit.

“No, just get a script for now. We need to get on and I haven't got time to prompt you every five seconds.”

Phoebe handed me her script and I started again but I still didn't do it properly. I was too upset. I didn't want Mandy to think I couldn't be bothered or to start wishing she'd given the part to Sam or someone else, but the harder I tried to get it right the worse it seemed to get.

“There's really no point in carrying on until you know it, Polly,” Mandy said in the end, calling me down from the stage. “So who
has
learned their lines?”

Sam's hand shot up in the air. “I've learned all of mine!” she boasted. “I know I'm only a virus but I don't need to use my script at all.”

So we ended up doing the scene where Sam's character, Cydore, replicates herself to trap Marcia and Tarn. She has to stand in the middle of the stage and chant in this creepy robotic voice:

“
ONE AND THEN ANOTHER, WE COPY EACH OTHER… ONE AND THEN ANOTHER, WE COPY EACH OTHER…
” And as she chants the stage fills up with more and more identical viruses who join in with the chant until it's very loud and menacing.

“It's going to be amazing,” said Mandy. “The viruses will all be wearing these fluorescent green jumpsuits with green and black masks, and I'm going to hire a smoke machine so that, as the chanting gets louder, the stage will fill up with thick white mist.”

“Golly, it's not real smoke, is it?” said Tara, alarmed. “You know how bad my asthma gets.”

Mandy shook her head. “Don't worry, Tara, it's completely safe, but it creates such a great atmosphere.”

Sam was brilliant of course. She knew every word and she acted like a pro, while I ran around the stage with Phoebe's script clutched in my hand, struggling to find the right place every time I had a line. Nobody laughed or anything but I felt so stupid and I knew I'd let Mandy down.

“It's okay,” said Phoebe, when the scene was over. “I'll help you learn your lines at school. Why don't you just tell Mandy about your mum leaving? I'm sure she'd understand.”

But I didn't want to tell Mandy about Mum going to Spain. She'd just think I was making excuses. In the end, when she came over to talk to me, I made up some nonsense about losing my script and promised her I'd find it and learn all my lines by the following week.

“I know you can do it, Polly,” she said. “You were so good in the auditions. You just need to set aside some time and really get to grips with the part.” She peered at me closely. “You do look very tired actually. You're not worried about anything, are you? Is everything okay at home?”

Her face was so kind and caring and I was so tired and upset, I almost told her everything. About Mum leaving, and Cosmo hating his new home. And how I'd only wanted to get the part of Marcia in the first place because I thought it might persuade Mum to stay in England.

“Well, there is something,” I started, looking down at the floor and blinking hard to stop myself from crying. But just then Arthur burst into the hall and Mandy swung round to face him.

“Mandy!”

“Arthur?”

“So sorry to interrupt – it's just about the dance.”

They started to discuss whether they were going to do a tango or a Viennese waltz and I slipped away over to where Phoebe was waiting.

“What did she say?” said Phoebe. “Did you tell her about your mum?”

I shook my head. “She didn't really say anything. I mean it's not as if we're performing next week or anything.”

“Aren't you worried?”

“No, why should I be?” I shrugged. “It's only a stupid show.”

Phoebe gave me a funny look but I buried my head in my bag and pretended to be looking for my snack.

“You know, Polly, I just don't get you sometimes,” she said and walked off to the other side of the hall.

When break was over Mandy put us into pairs to practise our ballroom dancing. The competition was only a couple of weeks away and we still hadn't had a single practice. For some reason she'd paired me up with Monty B – she seemed to think it would help us to bond or something. Sam was partners with Sandeep, Catharine with Adam, Phoebe with Ellie and Tara with Rachel.

The others weren't so keen to join in so they sat in a group at the back of the hall and went over their lines. I probably should've sat with them so I could start learning mine, but I was stuck with Monty B, who was trying his best to explain the difference between a drop and a drag.

“Cheer up a bit,” he said. “You should see your face. You're like that Russian princess who couldn't smile.”

“What Russian princess?”

“You know, the tragic tale of Princess Polly who lost the ability to smile?”

“Don't call me that!” I snapped. “And anyway, you're the only one around here who's tragic. I don't know why Mandy keeps pairing me up with you.”

“Well I wasn't exactly begging to be your partner either, in case you were wondering, but we might as well make the best of it now. Anyway, I bet
I
could make you smile,” he said.

“Bet you couldn't. I'm not in the mood to smile, or laugh, or to dance for that matter – especially not with you!”

He grabbed me round the waist and pulled me towards him. “Just relax and follow me,” he said. “I do the waltz with my nan all the time.”

“There's no point trying because
we're
going to win,” Sam called out, sailing past with Sandeep. They did look good – as if they'd been dancing together all their lives, but I wasn't about to let Sam be the best at
everything.

“Come on then,” I said to Monty B. “Show me what to do.”

He tried to guide me round the room but I was rubbish. He said, “One, two, three, one, two, three,” over and over again, but I kept stepping on his toes, and when he tried to turn me, I fell right over his legs and landed in a heap on the floor.

“Get up, Polly!” he moaned, pulling at me. “You're like a sack of potatoes. We might not want to be partners but we do want to win, don't we?”

“It's not me who's a sack of potatoes,” I snapped, and pulled him down on top of me.

“Oh my God, yeah,” said Neesha. “I know the show's called CRASH! but I don't think Mandy was talking about
that
sort of crash.”