Sam in the Spotlight (17 page)

I tried much harder for the rest of the session. I wanted to show Mandy how well I could do, even if it did end up being my last show. We just about managed to get to the end of Act Two and she was thrilled. “It still needs some work but it was
so
much better. I don't know what you ate at break, Sam, but it certainly gave you the boost you needed.”

“It's got nothing to do with what she ate, it's being onstage with
me
that does it,” joked Adam. He went to throw his arm round my shoulder but I ducked out of the way, blushing. It was very difficult to
Ignore Him Completely
when he was that close. In fact, it was pretty much impossible.

“Come on, Sam,” said Ellie, linking arms as we left the hall. “You were amazing and it's got nothing to do with what you ate –
or
being onstage with Adam Dale. He's just a lemon – remember?”

Crystal finally called me on Wednesday, ten whole days after Dad had gone round there. She didn't mention the wedding, or Mum and Dad, or the fact that I'd left about twenty million messages on her phone.

“I really want to show you something,” she trilled. “Will you meet me down by the swings after school?”

I was supposed to be going straight home to do my homework – Mum's orders! But Crystal sounded so excited and I was so desperate to see her, it was difficult to say no. I had to make sure she wasn't angry about Mum finding the wedding invitation – that she didn't blame me in some way. She was already there when I arrived, pacing around the playground like a caged lion. “Hey, Sam.” She gave me a quick hug. “Come and take a look at this.” She pulled me over to a bench. “Remember I told you about that meeting Tyler had with his agent – well, he's only going to be playing a set at Sophia Malone's wedding next Saturday!”

“No way! That's amazing,” I said, pretending to be really surprised.

“So anyway,” she went on, “I decided to make a silver candle holder with crystals studded all the way round the edge, to, you know, go on the tables at the wedding. I just thought it was the sort of thing Sophia Malone would like. I never thought for a second that anything would come of it, but I sent it off to her agent and Tyler put in a good word for me and basically she thought it was fantastic. She's asked me to make twenty – one for each table. Can you believe it?”

She pulled out one of the candleholders from her bag and held it out to show me. It was easily the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

“Crystal, this is incredible.” I couldn't get over it. “You mean these are actually going to be on the tables at Sophia Malone's wedding?”

“Yes, I know, it's crazy!” she laughed. “
Crystal's Crystals
at Sophia Malone's wedding!”

“So will you actually be there on the day?”

She nodded, her eyes shining. “Not because of the candleholders or anything, I'm just going along with the band.”

My heart started to race. “So you'll definitely be there, at the wedding, with Tyler?”

“I know, it's wicked, isn't it? Me at Sophia Malone's wedding!”

It was more than wicked. It was literally the answer to my prayers. Finally I had a way to get Mum and Crystal in the same room together. And if they were at a wedding, especially such an
important
wedding, and they came face-to-face, it's not like they'd be able to get into a big fight or start screaming at each other or anything stupid like that. Not when Mum was trying to impress with her flowers and Crystal with her candleholders. It was the perfect place for them to make up.

“This one's extra by the way,” said Crystal, pressing the candle holder into my hand. “I made it for you.”

I felt tears spring to my eyes.

“It's okay,” she said, giving me a hug. “I know it wasn't your fault about the invitation. And it's not your fault that Mum's the way she is.”

I ran my hands around the candle holder. It was so sparkly and precious. Exactly like Crystal. “You will make up with Mum, you know,” I said. “You can't stay angry with each other for ever.”

She shrugged and looked away, but not before I saw the hurt in her eyes.

I felt so much better after seeing Crystal, but I was still dreading Friday and Mum's meeting with Mr. Bayliss. I worked extra-hard all week but I knew it wouldn't make the slightest difference. I quite like Mr. Bayliss, but he's mega-strict. He's always harping on about how we need to
Make The Most Of The Opportunities Presented To Us
– just like Mum really. What
was
it about grown-ups and the word “
opportunities
”? If I had my way, I'd ban it!

I dawdled home as slowly as I possibly could on Friday afternoon. I made up this stupid game where I was only allowed to take another step forward every time three cars drove past. I was desperately hoping that Mum might have gone straight back to the shop after the meeting, but when I eventually made it home she was already there waiting for me. I stood for a second in the hall, bracing myself.

“Sam Lester!” she called out from the kitchen. “I am
so
proud of you I could burst!”

“
What?
” I dropped my bag by the door and ran in to find her.

“I've had the most brilliant meeting with Mr. Bayliss,” she gushed, pouring me a cup of tea and cutting a huge slice of lemon cake. She was so excited her hands were trembling. “He's really impressed with you, Sam. He thinks you've got great potential. He
thinks
that if you set your mind to it you could go to one of the top universities – Oxford or Cambridge even!”

Mum's eyes were shining. It was like Crystal all over again. Except I wasn't even thirteen yet and it was years until I had to worry about which university I should go to. I actually had my heart set on going to drama school; one of the really good ones in London. But I could just imagine how that would go down.

“So anyway,” Mum was saying, “I'm not going to stop you going to Star Makers this term, obviously, but I've called Mrs. Raja and she's perfectly happy for you to start straight after Christmas. Two hours of tutoring every Saturday from ten till twelve. This is such a fantastic opportunity for you, Sam. You're doing so well and I just want to make sure you keep up your grades.” Mum plonked another slice of cake on my plate, as if stuffing me full of treats would make up for what she was saying.

“I can't go to a tutor on Saturday mornings,” I said, pushing my plate away. “You know I can't.”

“Look, I'm not going to stop you acting, Sam. I know how much it means to you and everyone needs their hobbies. But you'll just have to find a drama club that runs on a different day – that's not so unreasonable, is it?”

It was like my worst nightmare. I was actually being punished for doing well at school.

“I'm not giving up Star Makers!” I yelled, squaring up to Mum. “And stop calling it a hobby! It is NOT a hobby. I don't care how brilliant Mrs. Raja is – you'll have to find a different tutor if you're so set on me having one. Not that you ever seemed that bothered about it when Crystal was here!”

Mum got that look on her face.
The Crystal Look.
“This has got nothing to do with her,” she snapped. She grabbed a cloth and started to clear away the cake.

“Yes it has! It's got
everything
to do with her.” I was spitting mad now. “Before Crystal left you were busy controlling
her
life and now she's gone you're trying to control
mine!
”

Mum whipped round. “It's not like that!” she said. “I don't want to control your life, I just want you to do the best you can.”

“But Mum, I don't need a tutor. You heard what Mr. Bayliss said – I'm doing really well already. And I'll work even harder, I swear.”

Mum took a deep breath, closing her eyes. “Just listen to me a minute, Sam, will you? You've no idea what it was like when Crystal was a baby.” She stopped for a second, letting her breath out slowly. I was about to ask what Crystal being a baby had to do with me and Mrs. Raja, but she carried on before I could say anything. “Everyone thought I'd be a terrible mum; that I was far too young and immature. People used to look down their noses at me. They all said I was selfish and irresponsible, including my own family. They said I wasn't fit to be a mother, but I proved them wrong, every single one of them.” She twisted the dishcloth round and round her hand, staring off into the distance.

“Crystal was always streets ahead of the other children. She was the first in her class to read and she always came top in everything. I used to take her to the library and to all the museums and art galleries. I wanted to give her every chance to succeed and I'm going to do the same for you.
No one's
going to say I didn't do the best for my girls.”

“But that was ages ago, Mum. You don't have to prove anything to anyone now.” But even as I said the words I knew in Mum's mind she did. In Mum's mind all those people who thought she'd be rubbish were still there, waiting for her to mess up.

She finished clearing up and pulled on her coat. “Look, I'm going back to the shop. I've still got deliveries to get ready for tomorrow and I've got a big meeting on Monday with Lavender. It's just over a week until the wedding and Sophia still keeps changing her mind.”

I sat in the kitchen for ages thinking about what Mum had said. I could see how difficult it must've been for her back then, but however bad it was, it didn't give her the right to ruin
my
life now. Somehow I had to make her see that being serious about acting was just as important as being serious about English or maths or any of the other subjects we do at school. I had to prove myself to
her,
just like she felt she had to prove herself to all those stupid people who treated her so badly when Crystal was a baby.

“I hear we've got a genius in the family!” Dad shouted up when he got in from work. I was in my room sulking and the last thing I wanted to talk about was Mum's meeting with Mr. Bayliss and how clever I was supposed to be. A few seconds later he came bursting into my room, grinning like an idiot.

“I Am Not A Genius, Dad! I've only been working hard to get Mum off my case, but it's totally backfired.”

He came over and sat on my bed. “She's just proud of you, sweetheart. You know what she's like.”

“Yes, but what about what
I'm
like?” I muttered. “She thinks I'm going to be the next prime minister or something, but she never actually listens to what
I
want to do with my life. And how about you? I bet you never really wanted to work in a bank.”

“What do you mean?” said Dad, surprised. “I really enjoy my job, you know.”

“Yes, but I bet you didn't want to work in a bank when you were at school and you had dreams.” I took a deep breath. “I know about the band, Dad. Aunty Mags told me. I've seen all the old newspaper cuttings. You could've been
really
big!”

Dad laughed and pulled me into his arms for a hug. “Yes, we could've been big – we had some good reviews – but there are no guarantees in the music business. And anyway, you can't go touring round in a band when you've got a young family to look after.”

“But, Dad, you
must
regret leaving. I mean if you don't regret it, why didn't you ever tell us? Why have you kept Stevie and the Stingrays a secret for all these years?” I pulled away from him so I could look into his eyes and see if he was being honest.

“I do miss it sometimes,” he said. “We had such a laugh together. But I don't
regret
it – not when I look at you and Crystal. If I'd stayed on with the band I would've been one of those dads who's never around for his kids. I would've missed your birthdays and Christmas and half your school plays. That wasn't the life for me. Perhaps I just didn't want it enough.”

“So why didn't you tell us then?” I said, determined to find out the truth. “If you don't regret leaving, why have you kept it secret? You never play the guitar any more – I don't even know if you've got one.”

Dad stood up to go downstairs. “I have got a guitar,” he said at the door. He stopped for a second with his head tipped to one side, thinking. “I only stopped playing it because it upset your mum so much.”

“What do you mean?”

Dad shrugged. “She feels guilty,” he said. “She still feels guilty about me leaving the band, even though I've told her a million times over that if I had to do it all again I'd make the same decision today that I made twenty years ago.”

“But, Dad, have you actually asked Mum if she still feels like that now? Because honestly, I can't bear the thought of your guitar stuffed in a cupboard somewhere. It just doesn't seem right.”