Secrets at Silver Spires (14 page)

My heart started beating too fast again. It looked like we were right back to my latest least-favourite subject.

Georgie leaned back on one elbow and squinted into the sun to look at Katy. “I'm afraid we've got a problem with our own particular star,” she said, flapping a hand in my direction. “Mia doesn't want to enter.”

“Oh no!” said Katy, sounding genuinely disappointed. She turned to me with pleading eyes. “I was so looking forward to sorting out your outfit.”

I drew my knees up and hugged them tightly, feeling tenser than ever. I really wanted my friends to stop trying to persuade me to enter now, but I couldn't bring myself to talk about how much I hated performing in front of an audience and how it had built up over the years into this massive fear. So instead I decided it would be best to pretend it was all to do with the songwriting.

“This is turning into a nightmare!” I said, trying to sound a bit jokey and not show how upset I really was. “Apart from that one song you've heard, Georgie – which is far too babyish anyway – I've never written any lyrics, only music.” I hesitated over the next bit, but decided to say it in the end. “And anyway, I'm just not the…performing type.”

Georgie suddenly sat straight up again and put her hands up like a policeman stopping the traffic. “Hold it right there! I've had a magnabulous idea!”

We all laughed. Even me – though something told me I wasn't going to like this magnabulous idea.

“
You
might not be a performer, Mamma Mia, but
yours truly
most definitely
is
! So how about
you
write the music and play the piano, and I'll write the lyrics and be the singer!” She jumped up and came to sit close beside me and gave me a hug that was a bit awkward, because I was still clasping my arms tightly round my knees, trying to protect myself from all Georgie's wild enthusiasm. I felt like if I allowed myself to relax even for a second, I might be letting myself in for the dreaded contest. “I mean that wouldn't be breaking the rules, would it?” Georgie went on. “Miss York clearly said that you can have duets or even whole bands, as long as someone in the group has actually written the song, didn't she?”

I could feel that the others were all looking at me, waiting to hear what I'd say to this latest idea. And the truth was that I just didn't know what to say.

But deep inside my mind there was the smallest chink of maybe-that-would-be-all-right – maybe I
could
perform – beginning to show. I'd always dreamed of being a proper musician playing in front of a proper audience, and this could be my chance to prove myself if I just had the courage.

“Ha! She's thinking about it, I can tell!” Georgie announced triumphantly, grinning round at the others.

“Well, why not just do the audition and see how you get on,” said Naomi. “Miss York said that it would only be herself and that new young music teacher, Mr. Ray, and Mrs. Harrison and Mam'zelle Clemence at the auditions, so it's not like having a whole audience or anything.”

The chink was opening up. I liked Miss York, although I didn't know her all that well, as she's the Director of Music at Silver Spires and only teaches the seniors. She auditioned me before I came here though, because Mum and Dad entered me for a music scholarship – I was so happy when I heard that I'd got it! I didn't really know Mr. Ray either. He was one of those music teachers who just comes into school to teach individual pupils, like my own piano teacher, Mrs. Roach. Mrs. Harrison is our class music teacher, who's really nice, and I also like Mam'zelle Clemence, our French teacher, very much. Maybe I'd be able to manage it, as long as Georgie was there with me, taking all the limelight, and I could just play the piano. That would be all right. No one would really notice me. But then I found a new worry.

“My song's really quiet and slow. I just can't imagine you'd want to sing it, Georgie. It's not kind of…
whammy
enough for you.”

Georgie smiled and looked round slowly and dramatically, then spoke in scarcely more than a whisper. “I can do quiet and slow, you know.”

Grace giggled. “Oh, Mia, say you'll do it! You and Georgie would be such a popular act, I just know it!”

“At least play us the song after lunch, yeah?” said Katy.

The chink was starting to close up again. “I'll try it out with Georgie first…”

“Okay!” said Georgie. “That's a start!”

“But I'm not making any promises,” I quickly added. “We'll just see if it sounds rubbish…”

Georgie gave me another hug then. “Oh ye of zippo confidence!”

After lunch we all trooped over to Hazeldean, because there'd be fewer people around there than in the music block.

“We'll wait in the common room,” Jess said. “Come and get us when you're ready for us to hear it, yeah?”

So Georgie and I went into the little practice room and I started to play straight away so I could get it over with. I don't usually mind singing in front of Georgie, but even though she'd heard the song before I still felt a bit embarrassed singing it now. It suddenly seemed more babyish than ever singing about leaving people I love, and I'd hardly sung the first line before I stopped and dragged my hands off the keys, flopping them into my lap. “It's stupid, Georgie. I can't do it.”

She sighed. “It is so not stupid, Mia! It's lovely, and I bet everyone else will sing loud in-your-face stuff.”

“Exactly, because that's what's popular!”

Miss York had told us that anyone from Years Seven, Eight and Nine who wanted to be in the contest had to audition in front of the little panel of teachers first. Then, if they got through that all right, they'd sing in the first round of the contest, and there would be three rounds altogether, with people being eliminated each time. I cringed as I imagined me and Georgie managing the audition and then going on to sing in the first round of the contest. “What if we auditioned okay but then got no votes at all when there was an audience?” I said, feeling myself getting into a state.

Georgie pursed her lips and wrinkled her nose. “I don't think everyone will be told how many votes people get. It'll be like
X Factor
– they'll just say who's got the least, and those people will be knocked out.” She tapped the piano impatiently. “Anyway, come on, finish it off.”

But I didn't feel like it any more. Just playing the first line had made me realize more than ever how much the song wouldn't be suitable for Georgie's bouncy, bright character. And as I was thinking that, my fingers suddenly itched to find the right notes for that little phrase,
bouncy and
bright
. The words were buzzing inside me and I put my hands on the keys and started playing their rhythm in the key of D major, which felt right.
Bouncy and bright, bouncy and bright…

“What's that?” said Georgie urgently, staring intently at my hands. “What's that music you're playing? Did you make it up?”

Make it up… Make it up…

I didn't answer her straight away because I wanted to carry on playing now there were more words singing inside me.

“That's so cool, Mia! But just tell me,
did
you make it up?”

I nodded. “I've been doing it more and more lately. I get words in my head and I want to turn them into music, and then…I play them…”

Georgie squidged up beside me on the piano stool. “That means you're a natural composer, Mia!”

“No I'm not. I've only actually composed that ‘goodbye' song.”

“But all those bits of tunes are important too. They're like mini compositions. Honestly, Mia, I think you should turn them into a proper song. Then, hey presto, we've got ourselves an act!”

My stomach did a big yo-yo as a picture of Georgie and me on the stage of the wonderful big Silver Spires theatre came into my head. What if I felt sick again? I swallowed.

“Please say yes,” said Georgie, turning to me with praying hands. “Pretty pretty please please
please
!”

And then it was happening again. My fingers were on the keyboard.
Pretty pretty please please please…pretty pretty please please please
, they played.

Georgie threw back her head and laughed. “You're a genius! I'm going to tell the others!” Then she rushed out of the room, but popped her head back round the door a moment later. “Carry on composing as long as you want. It doesn't matter about little details like afternoon school! I'll see you later when you've got it all ready!”

“No, Georgie, it doesn't happen as quickly as that…” I started to say, but I was talking to myself because by then she was probably at least halfway down the corridor.

Of course I didn't miss any lessons, because I'd never dare do anything like that. I've always been the kind of girl who obeys rules and does as she's told. I suppose it's just the way I've been brought up. But in the short time I had before the bell went for the start of afternoon school, I managed to work out quite a bit of melody and some words with a strong rhythm. It was in the kind of style that I knew would suit Georgie's voice, and I had to admit, I was quite looking forward to playing it to her.

She and I aren't always in the same sets for lessons, and on Wednesday afternoons we don't get to see each other till supper because apart from not having the same teachers, Georgie has drama club after school and I usually do my piano practice for Mrs. Roach at that time. But today for the first time ever I just couldn't concentrate on the work Mrs. Roach had set me because I was itching to get on with my song. I couldn't help it. I played it over and over, working out really good chords to go with the melody, and feeling myself getting more and more excited the more I played it. And as I kept practising, it was as if something within me began to change – like a tiny little spark of determination starting to grow and grow – until I realized that I'd made a decision. I was actually going to enter the contest. It would be terrifying, but I was trying not to think about that. In my heart, I knew I had to overcome my big block about performing in front of an audience if I wanted to be a true musician. I wanted that so much, and having Georgie on the stage to take the attention away from me seemed like the perfect answer.

At six fifteen she came into the practice room where I was playing away and I hardly glanced at her, just launched straight into my song. “See if you think it's all right, Georgie.”

I rattled through the whole of it and at the end Georgie said, “Mia, you've gobsmacked me! Play it again!”

So I did, but halfway through I suddenly thought of loads of much better words, so I grabbed my piano-practice notebook from my music case and started frantically scribbling, while Georgie peered over my shoulder. It was just a big jumble of words on the page, but I knew I'd be able to sort it out and turn it into a proper set of lyrics, and as soon as I'd finished I turned to Georgie with shining eyes.

“There! I've done it – I've written a song for the contest! You convinced me I could enter, and I will. In fact…” I couldn't help giggling as I grabbed Georgie's hands. “…although I can't exactly say I'm looking forward to it, there's a teeny little bit of me that thinks it
might
not be too terrible!”

“That's great!” said Georgie.

But there was something wrong. Her eyes were darting about all over the place and she was biting her lip.

“What…what's the matter, Georgie? Didn't you like the song? You must tell me if you didn't like it… Honestly…I won't mind…”

But I knew I would mind really. I couldn't swallow properly thinking that thought, and I felt my mouth going all dry.

Georgie slid her fingers out of mine and looked down. “I think the song is totally fantastic, Mia. Only…you'll have to do it on your own, I'm afraid, because I can't do it after all.”

I stared at her and tried to speak, but although my mouth formed the shape of the word, no sound came out.

What?

To find out what happens next, read

Ann Bryant's School Days

Who
was your favourite teacher?

At primary it was Mr. Perks – we called him Perksy. I was in his class in Year Six, and most days he let me work on a play I was writing! At secondary, my fave teacher was Mrs. Rowe, simply because I loved her subject (French) and she was so young and pretty and slim and chic and it was great seeing what new clothes she'd be wearing.

What were your best and worst lessons?

My brain doesn't process history, geography or science and I hated cookery, so those were my least favourite subjects. But I was good at English, music, French and PE, so I loved those. I also enjoyed art, although I was completely rubbish at it!