First published in Great Britain by

HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2018

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

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Text copyright © Jean Ure 2018

All rights reserved.

Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2018

Jean Ure asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008164539

Ebook Edition © 2018 ISBN: 9780008174842

Version: 2017-10-18

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

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About the Publisher

“Honestly,” squealed Caitlyn, “I nearly died!”

“I know, I know!” That was Roz, also screaming. “I just wanted to bury myself under the floorboards!”

“Me, too!” Alex rolled her eyes, rather wildly. “I thought I was going to pass out on the spot!”

“That moment when she walked in …”

“Omigod!”

Now they were all squealing. A woman walking past gave us a very odd look. I wasn’t surprised! They sounded like a load of fingernails scraping down a blackboard. All high-pitched and shrill. Quite painful, really. And all because – shock, horror! – Madam had suddenly appeared in the middle of class!

I gave a little squeak, just to show that I was sympathetic. I didn’t want to seem stand-offish; they were, after all, my friends. Caitlyn was actually my best friend. We’d spent most of the day together, taking our final audition for the City Ballet School – including the class that Madam had walked in on.

I expect most people would have thought it was a bit stressful. Even the class itself, with or without Madam’s laser-like presence. Just knowing all the time that you were being assessed, like “Is she musical enough? Is she supple enough? Has she got what it takes?” Though to be honest, it wasn’t so very different from what we were used to. The four of us had been taking special classes at the school every Saturday morning for the past year. Extension classes they called them, for people who were hoping to join the school as full-time students. We’d already got through the preliminary auditions so we’d known what to expect. Class the same as usual; just a bit more demanding. More stretches and jumps, more complicated series of steps. It was what we’d been working towards. Miss Jackson, who’d taken us on Saturday mornings, had prepared us well. Once we’d started and I’d got over any jitters I might have had, I’d actually enjoyed myself. I think it was because it was a challenge. I do like to be challenged! I sometimes get bored otherwise and find it difficult to concentrate.

Following on from class we’d had a series of intelligence tests. I don’t think any of us had been specially bothered about those. After all, it’s not like they expect you to be a genius or anything. Just so long as you have some kind of a brain. And imagination. It’s good to have imagination. Better really, if you ask me, than being able to do square roots and equations and stuff. (I probably just say that because I personally can’t do them. But I have got imagination!)

After the intelligence tests we’d all had to have a medical exam, to check our bones were OK. Nothing really to worry about cos surely by now if there was anything wrong they’d have found out? Well, you’d think so, considering they’d already been teaching us for a year, though it’s true that sometimes odd things can be discovered and people are told they’re not physically right for a dancing career. Still, I’m what Dad calls “an incurable optimist”. I don’t believe in torturing myself by imagining all the things that could go wrong. Even the dreaded interview at the end with Miss Hickman, the Head of Dance Studies, hadn’t really held any fears. I’d felt sure I’d think of something to say. I usually do!

It was true, on the other hand, that I had a bit of an unfair advantage. When you come from a ballet family – when your mum and dad, your brother, your sister, are all dancers – you tend to kind of take things for granted. Ballet just becomes an accepted part of your life, no more peculiar than – well! Eating and drinking. Going to bed. Getting up. It’s just something you do.

It wasn’t like that for the others, especially not for Caitlyn. It had been a real struggle for her. Alex and Roz hadn’t come from ballet families, either, so I probably should try to be more understanding. Madam was quite a frightening sort of person and none of us had expected her to suddenly come teetering in, on her high heels, in the middle of class. She was the Director after all! Dame Catherine Le Brocq, MBE. (For Services to Dance.) She had been one of the founders of City Ballet. Generations of dancers had lived their lives in terror of her, going right back to when Mum was there. It was hard to picture Mum ever being terrified of anyone, but she had once confessed to me that “Madam used to turn us all to jelly.” Even I had felt a slight twinge when the door had swung open and I’d seen her standing there, tiny as a sparrow with these diamond-sharp eyes shooting laser beams in all directions. I don’t think I faltered cos Mum had trained me well, but it was a bit of a shock. I couldn’t really blame the others for being petrified.

“I thought it was just going to be an ordinary class!” wailed Caitlyn.

“I know!” squealed Roz. “So did I!”

“Actually,” I said, “it was just an ordinary class.”

They all turned, reproachfully, to look at me.

“How can you say that?” cried Alex.

“I mean, apart from Madam it was ordinary. If she hadn’t suddenly appeared—”

“But she did suddenly appear!”

“Yes, but she didn’t stay for very long.”

“Long enough,” moaned Roz.

“I just got totally lost.” Caitlyn’s eyes had gone all big at the memory of it. “If I hadn’t been able to follow Maddy, I’d never have got through it! I knew she’d get it right cos she always does.”

She said it without any show of envy. Like it was just a simple fact: Maddy always gets things right. Maybe I did, but that was only cos I’d been at it so long. Right from when I was about three years old. It would be a bit shameful if I didn’t get things right.

“Weren’t you scared at all?” said Alex.

I said, “Well, I was, but only just for a minute and then I kind of forgot about her.”

“All right for some,” grumbled Roz. “You probably spent half your time as a baby sitting on her lap.”

I giggled. The thought of me, or anyone else, sitting on Madam’s lap was quite funny. Sean – who’s my brother and a lead dancer with the Company – once said that Madam was more likely to bite a baby’s head off than cuddle it: “She is a scary, scary woman.”

And Sean is one of her favourites! She rules the Company with a rod of iron, but Sean has always known how to get round her.

We all turned down The Cut towards Waterloo Station to catch our different trains home. Some people had come to the audition accompanied by their mums, but they were mostly the ones who’d had long journeys to make. The four of us were local and used to travelling in on Tubes and trains. Caitlyn and I actually lived quite near each other and even went to the same school.

“As a matter of interest,” said Alex, “what did you say in your interview? When they asked you, ‘Why do you want to dance?’”

“I just told them the truth,” said Caitlyn. “I said cos it’s what I’ve always dreamt of doing.”

“Even though you didn’t start till so late?”

Unlike the rest of us, who’d mostly had our first ballet lessons at five or six, Caitlyn hadn’t been able to start until she was eleven. It wasn’t because she hadn’t wanted to. She’d been desperate!

“Not everybody,” I reminded Alex, “can afford to pay for dancing lessons.” Specially not a single mum struggling to make ends meet, like Caitlyn’s mum.

“Oh. Right! I was forgetting.” Alex nodded, sympathetically. “They’ll have given you a plus for that.”

“Do you really think so?” Caitlyn looked at her, anxiously. “I thought they might hold it against me.”

“No, they’ll say it shows single-mindedness and determination and means you really know what you want.”

“So what did you say?” said Roz.

“Me?” Alex pulled a face. “I just said I loved to dance. I couldn’t think of anything clever! What about you?”

“Don’t ask!” Roz gave another squeal. “It was awful – I just burbled on completely mindlessly … all about how I’d been taken to see Swan Lake as a child and how I’d fallen in love with it and wanted to be able to spin round and round like Odile and her thirty-two fouettés!”

“You mean you actually counted them?”

“No, it was the person sitting behind me … I didn’t even know that’s what they were! I went straight back home and tried to do some in my bedroom.”

Alex said, “Wow. How many did you manage?”

“I didn’t manage any! I bashed into the wardrobe and nearly knocked my knee cap off. I’m so ashamed,” moaned Roz. “Why did I have to go and tell them something so stupid?”

“It’s not stupid,” said Caitlyn. “I expect they quite enjoyed hearing about it.”

“A lot more fun than just saying you loved to dance,” agreed Alex. She tapped her forehead. “Shows imagination.”

“What about Maddy?” They all turned, in my direction. “What did you say?”

“Oh.” I shrugged. “I just said I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. So Miss Hickman asked me if I’d ever actually tried imagining, and I said no, I wouldn’t dare.”

They gaped at me. “You wouldn’t dare?” said Roz.

“Cos of Mum and what she’d have to say. It was a joke; it was a joke!”

“You are so brave,” said Caitlyn.

I hadn’t felt particularly brave. The words had just come tumbling out of me, as words do.

“Did anyone laugh?” said Alex.

“Um … well … not exactly laugh. Miss Hickman sort of twitched her lips.”

“Like she found it funny?”

“Well … I suppose.”

I felt suddenly doubtful. Miss Hickman is Head of Dance Studies. According to Sean, she is not noted for her sense of humour. Maybe she hadn’t found it funny? Maybe I shouldn’t have said it? Mum is always accusing me of not thinking before I speak.

“Oh, well,” said Roz. “At least it’s over. Now we just have to wait.”

We all promised to keep in touch and let one another know the minute we heard anything, then Alex and Roz peeled off to catch their trains while me and Caitlyn headed for the Underground.

“How long do you think it’ll be?” said Caitlyn.

“Before we hear? About a week, according to Mum.”

“I wish they’d tell us on the spot! A week’s like for ever. Why does it take them so long?”

“I suppose they have to go and … I don’t know!” I waved a hand. “Discuss things.”

“What sort of things?” Caitlyn’s face had gone all puckered. “What would they need to discuss?”

“Well, like, maybe if there was someone they weren’t quite sure of? Or if they can only take, say, ten people and have to decide which ones they’re going to turn down?” As soon as I’d said it, I wished I hadn’t. Now I’d gone and terrified her. “There isn’t any point worrying,” I said. “We’ve done our best.”

I nearly added that in any case I felt sure they wouldn’t turn down any of Mum’s students. Mum was one of their own! Plus she has this reputation as one of the very best teachers in the country and only ever enters students she has complete faith in. But suppose just for once they actually did turn someone down? After I’d practically given Caitlyn my word that she could be certain of a place?

“Let’s face it,” I said, “we wouldn’t have been accepted for special classes if they didn’t think we were promising.”

“But you just said … we can’t all get in! You will, cos—”

“Cos what?” I said. “Cos of who my family is?”

“No! Cos you’re a good dancer and you’ve been doing it for ever.”

“You’re a good dancer,” I said. “Mum wouldn’t have given you a scholarship if she didn’t think you had what it takes.”

“But I still haven’t properly caught up!” She meant because of starting so late. “You’re all so far ahead of me!”

It was true that Caitlyn didn’t have the strongest technique, which perhaps was a bit of a worry. But they always said it wasn’t necessarily technique they were looking for so much as what Mum calls potential, like having the right sort of body and being able to move naturally to the music.

“If I don’t get in –” Caitlyn gave a deep, quivering sigh – “I shall feel like I’ve let your mum down. And you.”

I might have added, “And Sean,” but it would only have embarrassed her. Like lots of other ballet fans she had this massive crush on him. Even now she couldn’t say his name without blushing. But he was the one, in the end, who had persuaded Mum to give Caitlyn a chance. I’d been nagging at her for ages without getting anywhere. It wasn’t till Sean had seen what Caitlyn could do that he had stepped in and worked his magic.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’ll get in; I’m sure you will!”

Oh, I did hope so! It would be too terrible if she didn’t make it. After all those long years when becoming a dancer – even just having ballet lessons – had been nothing but a dream. If anyone deserved a chance, it was Caitlyn.

When I got home I found that Jen was there. She’d brought James round to show him off to Mum. James is my nephew. Imagine me, an auntie! I am not much into babies as a rule, but James is really quite sweet. Even Mum adores him, though she’d been so cross when Jen had announced she was going to give up her career to stay at home and be a mum. It wasn’t what you were supposed to do! It certainly wasn’t what Mum had done. It was only after having me that she’d finally given up performing, but she’d been in her forties by then so she’d probably have had to retire anyway. She wasn’t the sort to be happy playing old lady parts. Fairy godmothers and the like. I won’t be, either! I’ll probably become a teacher, like Mum. I had, after all, been Caitlyn’s teacher for the first few months, until Sean had become involved and helped change her daydream into reality. Even Mum, who is so horribly critical, had been forced to admit I’d done a good job. If Caitlyn was offered a place at CBS, I could pat myself on the back cos it would be partly thanks to me! But please, please, please, I thought, let her be accepted!

Jen and Mum were both eager to hear how the audition had gone. I said that it had gone OK, in spite of Madam suddenly bursting in on us.

“Ooh, scary!” said Jen.

“I know,” I said. “It terrified the life out of some people.”

“Not you, I’ll bet!”

I said, “No, I hardly noticed.” And then, in case maybe that sounded a bit like boasting: “Maybe just at first … when she first came in.”

I went up on my toes, being Madam in her high heels, surveying the room with narrowed eyes.

“Very amusing,” said Mum. “Just remember, however, that this is the woman who holds your fate in her hands.”

“All I’m saying –” I sank back down – “is I didn’t let myself be scared. Cos I thought what you would say … CONCENTRATE!”

“Quite right,” said Mum. “I’m glad my words seem to have sunk in.”

Jen shook her head. “Always so confident! I remember my audition … I was a nervous wreck for days before. And afterwards, waiting to hear. Waiting to hear was almost the worst part. I don’t think I had a single fingernail left by the time we got the letter!”

“What about Sean?” I said. I must have been about four years old when he’d had his audition. Too young to really remember very much. “Was he a nervous wreck?”

“You have to be joking!” said Jen. “When have you ever known Sean be a nervous wreck about anything? I’ve always envied you two … You sail through life, the pair of you, full steam ahead, not a worry in the world.”

“Yes, sometimes a bit too sure of themselves,” agreed Mum. “A touch of humility now and again might not come amiss.”

She nodded rather pointedly in my direction. I felt quite indignant. Why pick on me? I wasn’t the one people went all gooey over. I wasn’t one of Madam’s favourites!

“I have loads of humility,” I said.

“You think?” said Jen. She laughed, and so did Mum.

“You and Sean both!” said Mum.

They were being totally unfair. Mum is the first to say you have to have faith in your abilities. I know what my good points are, but I know what my bad ones are, too. I would be the first to admit I am not as lyrical as, for instance, Caitlyn. I don’t think Sean is that lyrical, either. I once saw him in Sylphides, all dreamy and romantic in the moonlight. Definitely not him! Perhaps me and Sean were a bit alike. I savoured the thought, testing it to see how I felt. I decided that I liked it! When I was little, Sean was one of my heroes, especially when he got into the Company, and then, later on, when he was promoted to soloist and everyone had heard of him. I enjoyed having a brother that all my friends had secret crushes on. Well, or not so secret, in Caitlyn’s case! I wondered if anyone would ever have a crush on me when I got into the Company. If I got into the Company. If, if, if, touch wood!

It was just that I couldn’t imagine not getting in. Mum, Dad, Jen – they had all been with City Ballet. Sean was one of their stars. How could I not follow in their footsteps? The Company was almost like a second family!

But Caitlyn was almost like family, too. We both had to get in! Not just me. Please, please, please, I thought once more. Please let Caitlyn be accepted!

I am never quite sure that I believe in God, but on the other hand I don’t think it hurts to say the occasional prayer. Just in case there is someone there and they happen to be listening. So long as it’s not for something silly, or selfish. Like one time when I prayed I would get through a maths test OK, even though I hadn’t bothered to do any revision. I came next to bottom, but I didn’t hold it against God as I don’t believe that is what prayer is really supposed to be for. It is supposed (in my opinion) to be for other people. In this case, for Caitlyn.

Mentally I closed my eyes and put my hands together. God, I thought, if you’re listening, please do the right thing!

It was over a week, now, and we still hadn’t heard. Every morning as I arrived at school, Caitlyn would greet me with a heart-rending wail: “It hasn’t come yet! Has yours?” She meant, of course, the letter. The one we were all waiting for.

“Surely,” I said to Mum, “we should have heard by now?”

“You’ll hear,” said Mum. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried for me,” I said. And then, very quickly, before I could be accused of being overconfident, I said, “Well, I suppose perhaps I am just a little bit. Cos that’s only natural, isn’t it? Being a little bit worried. Anyone would be! Even Sean. I mean—”

“Maddy, stop babbling,” said Mum. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s Caitlyn,” I said. “I’m worried for Caitlyn! Mum, she will be OK, won’t she? She will get in?”

“I’d certainly like to think so,” said Mum. “I wouldn’t have let her take the audition if I didn’t believe she stood a fair chance. But even if she doesn’t make it this time round, it’s not the end of the world. She can always try again next year, when she’s a bit more sure of herself.”

I stared at Mum, in disbelief. “You don’t think she’s going to make it?”

“I didn’t say that! She may very well do so. But she desperately needs to build up her confidence. How did she take it when Madam walked in? Did it throw her?”

“It threw everybody,” I said. “Even me, a little bit.”

It hadn’t really thrown me, but I didn’t feel it was my place to go telling tales. If Caitlyn had wanted Mum to know she’d got in a hopeless muddle and lost her way, she’d have told her herself. All she’d said, when we’d arrived for our Friday-evening class with Mum, and Mum had asked her how things had gone, was, “All right. I think.” And then, a bit cheekily, she’d added, “Nowhere near as frightening as when I took my audition with you!”

I’d thought that was quite brave of her. Making a joke with Mum! Far braver than me making a joke with Miss Hickman. I also thought that it might actually have been true, since in some ways Mum is even more scary than Madam. But would Caitlyn still manage to be brave if she didn’t get in along with the rest of us? If me, and Alex, and Roz, all made it and she didn’t?

Mum must have guessed what I was thinking.

“Even if Caitlyn doesn’t have your confidence,” she said, “she’s not going to give up that easily. She’s had to fight for far too long and far too hard to fall at the first hurdle.”

“But, Mum,” I cried, “she’d be so upset!”

“She would,” agreed Mum. “Certainly to begin with. But if you want to get anywhere in life you have to be prepared to pick yourself up and carry on. I think you’ll find Caitlyn has more backbone than you imagine.”

All the same, I thought, it would be miserable going off to ballet school on my own. Perhaps my prayers were just a little bit for me as well as for Caitlyn, because how would I be able to enjoy myself, knowing how she would be feeling? And how would I ever be able to break it to her that I had got in when she hadn’t?

“It’s good that you’re loyal,” said Mum, “but give Caitlyn some credit … In spite of that meek exterior, she’s no pushover!”

I knew Mum was right. Caitlyn had been struggling to teach herself ballet for a whole year before I’d discovered what she was up to and had started to help her. Every day without fail she had practised in her bedroom, and later on in the gym before school, when no one else was around, copying steps out of some of the many ballet books she had.

It was hard enough doing class every day when you had a dragon like Mum breathing down your neck. Mum wouldn’t accept any excuses! Well, other than injury. Not even I would ever have dared to say I didn’t feel like it. Not even when I’d had a streaming cold or loads of homework or just a general feeling of fed-upness. I honestly wasn’t sure I’d have had the discipline to carry on all by myself, as Caitlyn had done. Obviously Caitlyn had never had any feelings of fed-upness. Never once had she lost sight of her dream.

Dreams can seem such flimsy things! I always picture them as being like puffy white clouds, high up in the sky, floating along quite happily until – poof! – a sudden gust of wind comes by and blows them to pieces, and all we’re left with is little bits and pieces, scattered through the universe.

Caitlyn’s dreams had obviously been made of sterner stuff. No gust of wind had ever come bursting into her daydreams. She had this fierce determination which had driven her on. But even the fiercest determination needed some encouragement!

Mum shook her head. “Maddy, you can’t fight other people’s battles for them,” she said. “You did all you could. Now it’s up to Caitlyn.”

I sighed. Common sense was all very well, but I did so want us to be together!

The next day, when I turned in at the school gates, I found Caitlyn waiting for me. Her face was one big beam.

“It came!” she cried.

“The letter?”

“Yes!”

“You got in?”

I didn’t really need to ask. The beam told me everything.

“I still can’t believe it! I honestly never thought I would. Not after messing up like that. I thought they’d just tell me to go away and not bother them. It’s all thanks to you! If I hadn’t been able to watch what you were doing, I—” She broke off. “You did get yours?” She looked at me, anxiously. “You did hear?”

“Not yet,” I said.

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Maybe it’ll be waiting for you when you get home.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. The main thing is that you’ve got in!”

“I won’t tell anyone,” promised Caitlyn. “Not till you’ve heard, as well!”

I struggled for a bit, then said, “That’s OK. You can tell people.”

I knew she must be dying to. But Caitlyn said no, it wouldn’t be fair. “We’ll wait till we can both do it.”

“What about Mum?” I said. “You ought to tell Mum! And Sean. You’ve got to tell Sean. Give him a call right now!”

“Now?” She looked shocked. “He might be asleep.”

“So wake him up! It’s good news; he’ll be happy. Go on, quick, before we have to go into class.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if you did it?” she said.

I said, “Me? Why me? I’m not the one that’s got good news!”

“Please, Maddy.” She clasped her hands together. “You do it! Then you can tell your mum, as well.”

I shook my head. “You are such a coward,” I said.

He was my brother, for goodness’ sake! And in spite of being one of Madam’s favourites and one of the Company’s leading dancers, he is one of the easiest people to talk to. Unlike some I could name (but won’t cos it could be libel), he doesn’t have any sort of star complex. Caitlyn really ought to know him well enough by now. It was high time she got over her schoolgirl crush! But it didn’t seem fair to nag her, specially when she’d been so noble and self-sacrificing about keeping her audition result a secret until I’d had mine.

I did rather wonder why my letter hadn’t yet come. I knew it wouldn’t be waiting for me when I got in cos the post had already arrived when I’d left that morning.

“D’you think the others have heard?” I said.

The minute I said it, Caitlyn turned pink all over again.

I said, “They have?”

“They texted me this morning,” she said. “They’ve both got in.”

“Why didn’t they text me?”

“Cos they knew I’d tell you?”

“But they’re my friends as much as yours! Why didn’t they text both of us?”

“Maybe because … cos we all know you’ll get in. You’re, like … up there –” she raised a hand above her head – “and we’re, like, sort of …”

“Sort of what?”

“What I mean –” she was starting to sound a bit desperate – “it’s like you’re royalty!”

I said, “What?”

“Your mum and dad! You’re like a sort of royal family. Of the ballet world,” she added, hastily.

I stared at her, horrified. “That’s completely mad! I’m just the same as the rest of you.”

“You’re not,” said Caitlyn. “You know you’re not. I’m very glad you’re not, cos if it hadn’t been for your mum …”

Who did sometimes behave a bit like royalty, I had to admit.

“We don’t hold it against you,” said Caitlyn, earnestly. “It’s not like you boast about it or anything. It’s just one of those things. You don’t have to worry like the rest of us. But p’raps you shouldn’t tell your mum about me getting in until you’ve heard, cos I’m sure you will tomorrow.”

But although I hung around the following morning, waiting till the last possible moment, not a single letter came fluttering through the letter box. Caitlyn was in a state of jitters at the school gates, anxious in case the bell should ring before I got there.

“Did it come?” she cried.

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “I was sure you’d have heard by now!”

“It’s OK,” I said. “As soon as I get home, I’m going to give Mum the good news about you.”

Caitlyn opened her mouth to protest.

“No,” I said, “I am! It’s not fair to keep her waiting. She’ll be so pleased when I tell her.”

“But what about you?” wailed Caitlyn. “Why haven’t you heard?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Post, maybe? Letters are always getting lost.” That, at any rate, was what Dad said. He had this theory that all over London there were huge bags of mail that posties had just dumped. “They’ve probably gone and put it through the wrong door, or something. I’m not bothered! It’ll come.”

I said I wasn’t bothered, and it was true, I wasn’t. Not really. I couldn’t help thinking it was a bit odd, though. Caitlyn obviously thought so, too. I could tell that it was preying on her mind. At breaktime she rushed up to me and hissed, “I know why you haven’t heard!”

I said, “Why?”

“Cos you’re in the second half of the alphabet and we’re all in the first!”

I frowned.

“It’s got to be,” said Caitlyn. “Think about it!”

“Mm … maybe.” I supposed it made sense. Roz Costello, Alex Ellman, Caitlyn Hughes, Madeleine O’Brien. “I’m still going to tell Mum, though!”

I told her when I got back from school that afternoon, even though my letter still hadn’t come. Dad was there as well. He said, “Caitlyn? This is your protégée that you’ve been nursing?”

“I knew it would pay off,” said Mum. “I knew she had it in her!”

“It was me that discovered her,” I said. “Me and Sean. What’s a protégée?”

Dad groaned. “Don’t they teach you anything at that school? Protéger … to protect?”

“You mean, like, Mum’s been protecting her?”

“Guiding her,” said Mum. “Mentoring, if you like.”

Teaching, in other words. I opened my mouth to point out – in case she had forgotten – that I was the one who’d taught her first, but Mum cut in ahead of me. “What I want to know is why Caitlyn’s heard and you haven’t?”

“Oh, we think that’s just cos of me being in the second half of the alphabet,” I said. “All the others are near the beginning.”

“What others?” said Mum, rather sharply.

“Other people that have heard.”

Mum’s eyes narrowed.

“Costello, Ellman, Hughes …” I ticked them off on my fingers.

“They’ve all got in?”

Mum’s gaze flickered across the room to where Dad was sitting.

Dad, very faintly, hunched a shoulder. “Probably just some administrative glitch.”

“Not good enough!” snapped Mum. “Totally unacceptable! If she hasn’t heard by tomorrow, I’m going to be on that telephone demanding to speak to someone.”

“Oh, Mum, no, don’t, please!” I begged. It was bad enough everyone thinking I was like some kind of royalty, just because of who my parents were. I had been quite shocked that Roz and Alex had chosen to tell Caitlyn their good news and not me, simply cos of thinking I was above it all. I wasn’t above it all! I didn’t expect special treatment. I never got special treatment. If anything, Mum was harder on me than on anyone else when she took us for class. She was positively soft on Caitlyn! She never chewed her out or accused her of having arms like waterlogged balloons, like she’d once done to me. But she does undeniably have a lot of influence, and friends in high places, and I desperately didn’t want her wading in on my behalf. I could just hear her. “This is Madeleine O’Brien’s mother. I’m wondering why it is that my daughter hasn’t yet had her letter of acceptance … I presume it is on its way?”

My toes were curling in shame just at the thought of it.

Dad, fortunately, came to my rescue. “Let’s hold fire for a day or two. I’m sure there’s no cause for concern.”

“I’ll give them another twenty-four hours,” said Mum. “But that’s as far as I’m prepared to go.”

“I thought you weren’t worried,” I said.

“I’m not worried!” Mum tossed her head. “What should I be worried about? If Caitlyn’s got in, you’ve got in. I just want things settled.”

Fortunately the letter arrived the very next day. Just in time to stop Mum embarrassing me!

“So what does it say?” said Dad. “I’m on a knife-edge here!”

“It says she’s been offered a place,” said Mum. “What else would it say?”

“You tell me,” said Dad. “All that fussing and fuming!”

“I wasn’t worried,” said Mum.

But I knew that she had been. Just for a little bit, Mum had actually had doubts. She had actually considered the possibility that I might not get in. It was a sobering thought. Did it mean Mum didn’t have faith in me?

Fretfully I said, “If you’d let me go when I was eleven, I’d be in my second year by now. Why didn’t you let me go then? Most people do!”

“Sean didn’t,” said Mum. “He didn’t go till he was nearly fifteen.”

I said, “Jen did!”

But Jen had got married and had a baby and given up dancing. That was practically a sin in Mum’s book.

“Is it because of her you wouldn’t let me?” I said. “Cos you were scared I’d do what she did?”

I’d once heard Mum and Dad discussing it and saying how maybe they’d made a mistake and pushed too hard. That maybe Jen’s heart hadn’t really been in it.

“I’d never give up just cos of having a baby,” I said. “I don’t even like babies all that much.”

Dad said, “Hah! Famous last words … That’s exactly what your mum used to say. And then she went on to have the three of you!”

“Yes, but I carried on dancing,” snapped Mum.

“Until you had me,” I said.

“You were an accident,” said Mum. “But anyway, it was nothing to do with Jen giving up. If you want to know the truth, your dad and I weren’t totally convinced that at the age of eleven you had the necessary discipline for full-time training.”

I stared at her, indignantly. How could she say that? When I’d been dutifully attending classes three times a week for almost as long as I could remember! I hadn’t ever grumbled or complained. Not even when she’d told me my arms were like waterlogged balloons or my fingers like bunches of sausages. In front of the entire class! I’d never resented it. Well, only a little bit. It had never stopped me trying to improve. I’d always worked hard; I’d passed all my exams. What more did she want?

“We just needed to make sure,” said Mum, “that you were really committed. I’ve felt once or twice with Jen that maybe she was only going along to please me and your dad, because it was expected of her, and that perhaps if we’d held her back a bit she might have chosen a different path. We always knew with Sean that his heart was set on it. He only waited till he was older because boys can. There wasn’t any particular rush. But thirteen is a perfectly good age! You don’t have to look all reproachful. You’ve been accepted; you’ll be starting in September. What’s the problem?”

I said, “There’ll be some people that have been there two years already!”

It would make me feel inferior. Everyone would know who my mum and dad were. They would wonder why I’d left it so late.

I’d never thought that way before; I’d always just accepted that I would go to ballet school when I was thirteen. I’d never really queried it. I hadn’t had any idea that Mum and Dad were holding me back cos they didn’t think I had enough discipline! It came as a bit of a shock, to be honest.

“You won’t be the only one who’s just starting,” said Dad. “And let’s face it, you couldn’t have had any better training. Your mum may be a tyrant, but believe me, there’ll come a time when you’ll thank her for that!”

“Yes, and just think,” said Mum, “if we’d let you go when you were eleven, you would never have met Caitlyn. We all know how much she owes you, but it’s far from being a one-way street … It wasn’t until you made her your pet project that you really started to show commitment. I was so proud when she took that audition with me and I knew that it was you who’d been teaching her … I couldn’t have done a better job myself!”

I glowed. I couldn’t help it! Mum almost never praises me. The most she’ll say is, “That’s a bit better.” Not even better: just a bit better.

Dad caught my eye and winked. “Wonders will never cease, eh?”

“What wonders?” said Mum.

“Maddy knows! Don’t you?”

I giggled and nodded. It was good, having Dad on my side.

“You and your little secrets,” said Mum. She patted my head as she left the room. “I think you’ll find I always give praise when praise is due.”

“So there you have it,” said Dad. “If I were you, Mads, I’d go away and have a bit of a gloat … I’d say you deserve one!”

It was our very first day at CBS. Caitlyn had begged me to wait for her at Waterloo so that we could walk there together. She’d said, “I know it’s silly, but I’m all trembly.” I hadn’t teased her cos to be honest even I felt a bit of a quiver as we went in through the main entrance. We may have been coming to the school for almost a year for our extension classes, but we had only been visitors then. It was very different being full-time students. At last we could feel that we really belonged.

We’d spent the morning having registration, copying timetables and doing ordinary academic lessons – maths, English and geography, in this case – just as we would at any normal school. Now, at last, it was lunchtime. A group of us were sitting at a long table in the canteen, all eagerly looking forward to our first dance class of the day. There was me and Caitlyn, Roz and Alex, Tiffany Blanche, a tiny girl from Hong Kong called Mei, and Tiffany’s friend Amber, whose surname I couldn’t remember.

“Hey!” Tiffany suddenly leaned across and prodded me. “Maddy! Why was it again that you didn’t come here at eleven, same as most of us?”

It was the second time she’d asked me. The first time I hadn’t lowered myself to reply. I hadn’t liked the way she’d asked the question! All superior, like anyone that was any good would have joined the school ages ago. What business was it of hers why I hadn’t come when I was eleven? Now here she was, at it again, poking me, hoping to hear that I’d initially been turned down and had had to reapply.

You can tell with some people that they just want to score a point. I knew why she wanted to score a point. We’d hardly gathered for registration before Mei had recognised me and squeaked, “Oh! You’re Sean O’Brien’s sister! I saw your photo in a dance magazine!”

“Not just me,” I said, hurriedly.

It had been all of us. Mum, Dad, me, Sean. Even Jen, who wasn’t dancing any more. Ballet’s Royal Family was what it had said. It had made me want to cringe. Caitlyn, needless to say, had been triumphant. She’d laughed and said, “Royal family … I told you so!”

I wished Mei hadn’t seen it. I hadn’t asked to be photographed. It’s incredibly embarrassing when you’re doing your best to be just another dance student and no different from anybody else. It hadn’t bothered me at school when my friends had gone round boasting to everyone that “Maddy’s family is famous!” They weren’t actually famous, except in the ballet world, and no one at school had been particularly impressed. Being a ballet dancer isn’t exactly the same as being a pop star. But now I was with people for whom ballet was the most important thing in the whole world. The last thing I wanted was to be singled out. I didn’t mind them knowing who my mum and dad were, or that Sean was my brother. It wasn’t like I was trying to keep it a secret. I couldn’t have done, anyway. Almost everyone already knew. The dance world is quite small and Mei wouldn’t be the only one who’d seen the photograph. But drawing attention to it had obviously got right up Tiffany’s nose! And now she was getting right up mine. Was I the one who’d mentioned my family?

“I’d have thought,” said Tiffany, dipping her spoon into her yoghurt pot, “that you wouldn’t have wanted to waste any time. Personally I couldn’t wait to get here!”

“Me neither.” Amber nodded, eagerly. “I knew I wanted to come here right from the very beginning.”

“Maddy knew from the very beginning that she was going to come,” said Roz.

“So why didn’t she?”

“What d’you mean, why didn’t she? She has. She is. Isn’t she?”

Roz stared round as if to say, or am I seeing things?

“She is now,” said Amber.

“You surely must have been ready for it?” Tiffany was leaning forward again. A clump of yoghurt went splodging on to the table. “Oops!” She scooped it up and put it into her mouth. “I mean, it would be rather odd if you weren’t.”

I seethed, inwardly. I’d told Mum this would happen!

“I could have come earlier if I’d wanted,” I said. I probably could have, if I’d nagged hard enough. It had just never occurred to me. I’d always been quite happy to wait till I was thirteen. Until now.

A wave of doubt suddenly engulfed me. Could it mean that Mum was right? That it wasn’t until starting to teach Caitlyn that I’d developed a proper sense of commitment?

“You honestly didn’t want to?” said Tiffany. She and Amber exchanged glances. They shook their heads. Unbelievable!

“You probably didn’t need to come earlier, did you?” said Mei. “Not if you had your mum to teach you.”

“Yes, cos Maddy’s mum,” said Roz, “she’s f—”

“Yeah, yeah!” Tiffany rocked back on her chair. “We all know who her mum is. And her dad. And her brother.”

“This is what I’m saying,” said Roz. “Maddy could have come here any time. But when you’ve got one of the best teachers in the world …”

I cringed. Mum is one of the best teachers. Roz was trying so hard to be loyal! But she was just making matters worse. And now Caitlyn was chipping in, as well.

“If anyone wasn’t ready,” she said, “it was me.”

“Oh?” Tiffany’s gaze immediately switched direction. “Why’s that?”

“Cos I didn’t even start learning till I was eleven.”

“You didn’t start learning?” Amber’s gaze had also switched direction. It was like Caitlyn was some kind of creature from outer space, the way they were studying her.

Mei said, “That’s amazing! You must have loads of natural talent.”

“She has,” I said.

“But I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you! It’s all thanks to Maddy,” said Caitlyn. “She was the one that believed in me. She gave me my first opportunity! And she was my first teacher.” She giggled. “She was really strict! Not as strict as her mum, but she did used to bully me.”

I said, “What cheek! I never bullied you.”

“You did,” said Caitlyn. “You were always lecturing me, saying how I didn’t have any backbone. And then –” she turned back to the others – “you’ll never guess what?”

“What?”

Everybody, now, was craning forward to listen.

“She made me learn her part for the end-of-term show at our school and right at the very last minute she went and twisted her ankle – pretended to twist her ankle – and said I had to go on instead cos I was her understudy. I’ve never been so terrified in my life. I was, like, shaking in my shoes!”

“Why?” said Tiffany. “What were you terrified of? That’s what being an understudy’s all about.”

“So long as you knew the part,” agreed Amber.

“She knew the part,” I said. “She just wasn’t properly trained. She’d never had a single lesson till I started teaching her. And I’d only been doing it for a couple of months! So going on in my place was incredibly brave, if you ask me.”

“I’ll say,” said Alex, who’d heard the story before. “You wouldn’t have got me doing it!”

“I didn’t want to,” said Caitlyn. “It was only cos of Maddy, bullying me.”

“So what happened?” said Mei.

“What happened,” I said, “was that she gave a totally brilliant performance and Sean saw it and told Mum and Mum said Caitlyn had better let her see what she could do, and as soon as she saw her she said she’d take her on.”

“She gave me this special scholarship,” said Caitlyn. “Cos she knew my mum couldn’t afford lessons.”

“That is so romantic,” breathed Mei. “Like something out of a fairy tale!”

Tiffany said, “Hmm.”

What did she mean, hmm? What was she implying?

“Mum doesn’t take on just anybody,” I said.

“I’m sure,” purred Tiffany.

“It just helps,” said Amber, “if you know the right people.”

Earnestly Caitlyn said, “Yes, it does! I was just so lucky.”

“It’s the sort of thing,” agreed Roz, “that will go in your biography.”

“Oh,” said Tiffany, “is someone going to do a biography of her?”

“Probably,” said Roz. “When she’s famous. They might even make a movie.”

Tiffany looked at Roz with distaste. Then she looked at Caitlyn and her lip curled. I knew what she was thinking. How could someone so utterly ordinary ever hope to become famous?

It’s true that Caitlyn isn’t striking like Tiffany, with her long limbs and her blond hair. She isn’t especially pretty, like Roz, and she doesn’t have Mei’s daintiness. It’s only when she dances that she really comes alive. Offstage she can seem quite mouse-like and unremarkable. On stage she has what Mum calls star quality. It’s not something that can be taught; you either have it or you don’t. Sean has it, in buckets. By all accounts, Mum also used to have it. I am not sure that Jen did. I hoped that I might. I knew I came across, as they say. Across the footlights, that is. I don’t just fade into the background. But whether I actually had star quality … Mum had never told me that I had. On the other hand, maybe she wouldn’t. She’d never actually told Caitlyn; only said it to Dad one day, when she didn’t realise I was listening.

“Do you know, I really think little Caitlyn might surprise us all … She definitely has potential.”

“Star quality?” Dad had said, and Mum had said yes. “Star quality.”

I couldn’t help wondering if she’d ever said it about me. If she’d ever even thought it about me. Maybe it was just something she took for granted when it came to her own children. We were the O’Briens! Of course we had star quality.

Tiffany was still gazing at Caitlyn with a sort of amused contempt. “Famous!” she said, and gave a little snigger.

“D’you know,” said Caitlyn, solemnly, “I’ve never even thought about being famous. Have you?”

She addressed her question to the table at large.

Alex said, “You’d better believe it! When I was eleven I used to spend hours interviewing myself … Alexandra Ellman, prima ballerina …”

“Oh, me, too!” agreed Roz. “I once interviewed myself as Roz Costello, Baby Ballerina … the youngest person ever to dance Princess Aurora … How pathetic was that!”

“I don’t think it’s pathetic,” said Tiffany. “Perfectly natural, if you ask me.”

“Exactly,” said Amber. “What’s the point of becoming a dancer if you don’t believe you’ll reach the top?”

Caitlyn hung her head. “I just never thought about it. All I wanted to do was dance.”

“Didn’t you ever have dreams when you were little?” said Mei. “When the curtain comes down and you’re standing there, in the spotlight, and everyone’s cheering and throwing flowers and someone gives you this enormous bouquet?”

“Not really.”

“So what did you dream about?” said Amber.

“Mostly I just dreamt about being able to have ballet lessons … being able to buy a pair of ballet shoes and …” Caitlyn’s voice trailed away, uncertainly.

I waited for either Amber or Tiffany to make one of their smart remarks. Tiffany half opened her mouth, then obviously thought better of it and snapped it shut again. Amber didn’t even make the attempt. It was Roz who said, “That makes me feel really tawdry.”

So then I said, “What does tawdry mean?” And Roz said she didn’t really know, but it sounded right, and Alex said it meant sort of cheap, and we all agreed that maybe we shouldn’t be worrying so much about becoming famous as about becoming the best dancers we possibly could.

Tiffany said, “Oh, how noble!” But it wasn’t specially convincing.

At the end of the day we walked back to Waterloo together, the usual bunch of us – me, Caitlyn, Roz and Alex. Mei was with us for part of the way. As her family were in Hong Kong, she was staying in the hostel, just up the road, which the school kept for students who needed accommodation. Some were foreign, others simply lived too far away. Sometimes people’s parents rented houses so that their mums – it was usually their mums – could move to London to be with them. Quite often they let out rooms to other students. Amber, for instance, was living with Tiffany and her mum. I certainly wouldn’t have wanted that, thank you very much – not with Tiffany! But I did think it might perhaps be fun to stay in the hostel rather than going back home every day. I suggested this to Caitlyn, as we left the others and peeled off towards the Underground, but she reacted with horror.

“What about my mum? She’d be all on her own!”

I said, “Yes, of course. I’d forgotten about your mum.” Doing my best to sound sympathetic. I know that I am not always as understanding as I should be, though I do try to consider other people’s feelings. I could see that it was difficult for Caitlyn. My mum is quite high-powered, totally preoccupied with her teaching. Plus she has Dad (when he is not flying about the world putting on his ballets) and also me. Not to mention Sean and Jen, who both live quite near and are for ever dropping by. Caitlyn’s mum only has Caitlyn, and is, I think, a rather shy and lonely sort of person.

“What will you do,” I said, “when we have to go on tour?”

“You mean, if I get into the Company.”

“Yes.”

Caitlyn crinkled her nose. “I daren’t look that far ahead! It’s like tempting fate … Suppose I get thrown out?”

“Don’t be silly,” I said. “Of course you won’t get thrown out! Don’t even think about it.”

“How can you help it?” wailed Caitlyn. “Everybody thinks about it!”

She didn’t add, everybody except you, though she could have done cos it was quite true: I didn’t think about it. Maybe I might nearer the time, but for goodness’ sake we’d only just come to the end of our very first day!

“Someone told me,” said Caitlyn, “that by the time we reach the end of our training there’ll be only half of us left. And did you know –” she turned, big-eyed, to look at me – “did you know that six people were thrown out last term? Mei was telling me. Six people!”

“Pity it didn’t include Tiffany,” I said. “Can’t think anyone would miss her.”

There was a pause. I could see Caitlyn struggling to think of something to say in Tiffany’s defence. She is someone who always tries to see the best in people. I tend to just jump in and say whatever I feel.

“Don’t tell me you like her?”

“She’s a good dancer,” said Caitlyn.

Grudgingly I said, “I suppose.” From what little we’d seen. “I wish you hadn’t told her about Mum giving you a scholarship, though.”

“Why?” Caitlyn seemed startled. “Didn’t you want me to?”

I said, “I don’t mind. Not like it’s a secret. But now she’s going to go round telling everyone you only got in cos of knowing the right people.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip. “Maybe I did.”

“That’s absolute rubbish,” I said, crossly. “Mum would never have given you a scholarship if she didn’t think you deserved it. As a matter of fact –” I wasn’t sure that Caitlyn knew this – “it’s the only scholarship Mum’s ever given. Ever! Which just shows that she agreed with Sean. He was the one that said you had a special talent.”

Predictably Caitlyn’s face had turned bright pink, either because I’d mentioned Sean or because I’d told her what he’d said. Most likely a mixture of both.

I sternly informed her, not for the first time, that she really had to have a bit more faith in herself. “Otherwise,” I said, “people like Tiffany will just walk all over you, like she tried to do today. She can try it with me as much as she likes. Doesn’t bother me! You’re too modest. It simply doesn’t get you anywhere, not in this business. You have to be really tough in this business.” (I was quoting Mum, here.) “If you keep putting yourself down all the time, people start thinking you can’t be much good. It helps, of course, if you’re naturally bumptious, which apparently I am, according to Sean.”

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