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Authors: Anne-Marie Conway

Polly Plays Her Part (13 page)

BOOK: Polly Plays Her Part
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As soon as he shut the door I chucked my script on the bed and sat back down at the computer. I had to get into the Diamond Den before Dad got totally fed up and stopped me going on to the friend2friend website altogether.

I spent the rest of the week chatting to Skye and pretending to Dad and Diane that I was busy learning my lines. Skye was so interested in everything I said. She always asked loads and loads of questions but I didn't tell her how cross Dad was, or how much I hated Diane. As far as she was concerned I was Marcia Moon and I lived with Phoebe, Mum and Dad and we never rowed or fell out or anything. We were
The Perfect Family.

Dad called Mandy back and bought some tickets for the dance competition and every morning at breakfast he tested me on my lines. Luckily we never got very far because Diane was always asking him to change Jake's nappy or give him his bottle or sort out one of his crying fits.

On Saturday morning Dad made doubly sure I made it to drama and drove me up there himself. The dance was due to kick off at twelve, so we had loads of time to practise before everyone arrived.

Monty B grabbed hold of me the second I walked into the hall.

“Thank goodness you've come, Polly! The cameras will be here soon and we've hardly practised at all.”

“Give her a chance to get through the door, Monty B,” laughed Mandy, coming over. “How are you, Polly? Are you feeling better?”

“Yes thanks and I've started to learn my lines.”

“Oh, that's great. From next week it's full steam ahead. No scripts and no excuses. Okay?”

I nodded.

“Look at this, though.” She hauled over a huge, plastic container. “I managed to borrow some amazing outfits from the local fancy-dress shop.” She yanked the lid off and took out one sparkly dress after another. The dresses were bright and spangly and smothered in sequins; just looking at them made me want to run straight back out of the hall.

“We don't actually have to wear one of those, do we?” I asked, shuddering.

“Oh come on, Polly, don't be such a spoilsport,” said Tara. “You can't appear on the
Six O'Clock News
in your old jeans.”

“I'm wearing this one!” said Mandy, grabbing a long, black tight-fitting dress, with a black feather boa draped around the collar.

“Oooh, very nice,” said Monty B. “And this from the person who didn't even want to dance in the first place!”

“Well if I
am
going to be on television, I want to make sure I look my best,” sniffed Mandy.

She shared out the rest of the outfits, leaving me with this ghastly, pink minidress covered in silver sequins. Monty B loved any excuse to dress up and he chose a sort of matching pink jumpsuit – it was just about the weirdest outfit I'd ever seen in my life.

“Aren't you embarrassed?” I said.

“What's to be embarrassed about? If you've got it, flaunt it! That's what my nan always says.”


If
you've got it,” said Neesha. “But what if you haven't?”

“Careful, Neesh,” said Adam. “His middle name
is
Macho, don't forget.” Adam was wearing a black suit he'd brought from home and he looked great. I guess some people look good whatever they're wearing. Catharine looked lovely as well and I was sure they were going to win.

I went into the toilets to put on my dress. Phoebe was already in there squeezing into a frilly yellow skirt with matching top.

“I can't believe I'm doing this!” she shrieked. “What's Sara going to say when she sees me in this? I'll never live it down. I'm sure I said I wasn't entering the competition when Monty B first asked me to be his partner.”

“You did! That's probably why
I
got stuck dancing with him!”

When we were all ready Mandy put on the music and we had a quick practice.

“Right,” said Monty B, grabbing me round the waist. “You don't have to do anything except follow me. I'm leading, okay?”

“Okay,” I muttered. “Whatever you say.”

The practice went pretty well. I was determined not to let Sam and Sandeep win, so I tried as hard as I could to follow Monty B's lead and stay on my feet, and by the time we'd finished we were pretty good. It was the weirdest thing, but if someone had said to me a few weeks ago that I'd be twirling and whirling round a dance floor with Monty B, wearing a pink sequined minidress –
and enjoying myself –
I would've said they were bonkers, but it was actually the most fun I'd had in ages.

The camera crew were busy setting up and a few of us offered to help. I was just attempting to drag a pile of chairs across the room with Phoebe, when Rachel spotted us and came over.

“I'm really pleased you're back, Polly,” she said, smiling shyly. “You're so brave to take on such a big part. I've only got two or three lines but I'm so nervous it's ridiculous.”

“I'll help you with your lines if you want,” Phoebe offered. “I was really shy last term, wasn't I, Polly?”

But before I could answer they'd skipped off across the hall together to grab their scripts and practise.

At quarter to twelve the panel of judges arrived: Mrs. Beagle, Mr. Hastings, the church warden, and Arthur's mum, Carole.

“This is going to be so easy,” said Monty B, smiling and waving at Mrs. Beagle. “Mrs. Beagle and my nan go to the same knitting circle and they're like this!” He crossed his fingers to show how close they were.

“But it's not just her deciding, is it? What about Arthur's mum? She'll know we're rubbish the second we start dancing.”

“We are
not
rubbish!” said Monty B. “What sort of an attitude is that? And anyway she can't vote for Arthur because that would be favouritism and Mr. Hastings looks as if he's about to nod off – so we're laughing.”

I wasn't so sure but I didn't have time to worry about it because the audience were due to arrive and we had to hide away on the stage behind the curtain.

“I can't believe you're wearing that jumpsuit, Monty B,” said Ellie. “It clashes so badly with your hair. I swear I'm going to get the worst fit of giggles in a minute.” She breathed through her nose, her nostrils flaring out like a horse.

“Well at least you don't have to dance with him,” I said. I had a quick peek through the curtain and saw Dad arriving with Diane and Jake. I was so cross they were there and that everyone was going to see them. I wished Diane would realize that I didn't want her around: especially not here in front of all my friends.

When the audience was quiet, one of the camera crew gave Arthur a thumbs up and he came out to talk about the old people's home and how the money raised was going to go towards buying a piano.

“What's happened to Arthur's beard?” Phoebe whispered. “It looks as if he's hacked at it with his eyes closed. It's completely crooked.”

“Not if you look at him with your head on the side – like this,” said Monty B.

We all put our heads on the side, laughing, as Arthur introduced the three judges, blew his mum a kiss, and wished us luck.

It didn't get off to a very good start. Ellie and Phoebe giggled all the way through their waltz. Sandeep and Sam were pretty good until Sam decided to lead instead of Sandeep and they ended up pulling each other in opposite directions. And then Arthur and Mandy had their go, but Mandy held Arthur so far away from her that there was easily enough room to drive a bus between them.

When it was our turn, Monty B took my hand and led me down from the stage.

“Our
Big Moment
at last,” he whispered. “Just make sure you stay as close to the cameras as possible all the way through!”

I wasn't really nervous about dancing; I just didn't want to do it in front of Dad and Diane. As soon as Jake spotted me he started to go crazy, pumping his little legs and squirming about on Diane's lap – desperate to get down. I tried not to take any notice but it was impossible. Every time I turned round to that side of the audience he'd catch sight of me again and start squealing and pumping all over again as if he hadn't seen me for years.

We danced around the room whirling and twirling better than we'd ever done it before, but then, just as we were coming to our big finish, Jake finally managed to escape. He wriggled right out of Diane's arms and crawled straight across the dance floor.

“What are you doing? Go back to Mummy!”
I hissed, trying to smile and carry on dancing at the same time.

I could see Diane hovering at the edge of the dance floor ready to grab him back, but the other mums and dads began to laugh and clap, and Monty B, sensing an opportunity, scooped Jake up into his arms and swept him around in time to the music while I stood there like a total lemon.

The audience leaped to their feet cheering and Jake squealed and squealed and I could see Diane's face all proud and excited. The commotion even woke Mr. Hastings, who'd nodded right off. When the music stopped Jake reached out for me, wrapping his arms tight around my neck. Everyone came over to meet him,
oohing
and
ahhing
as if they'd never seen a baby before. And it was no surprise really, at the end of the competition, when Mrs. Beagle announced that we were the winners – all three of us.

Monty B's nan got so excited she leaped up shouting,
“Montgomery Bacon Brown, I am so proud of you.”

“Bacon?”
snorted Neesha. “Your middle name is
Bacon
? Are you telling me your parents named you after a bit of fried pig?”

“He was a very famous scientist and philosopher, actually,” said Monty B, his face turning as red as his hair.

“Yes, and it could've been worse,” said Adam. “They could've called him
baked beans
or
sausage.

“Well I quite like it,” said Phoebe. “I'm going to call you Monty BB from now on.”

Sam rolled her eyes, smirking. “Phoebe and BB. How cute.”

“You're just jealous that Polly and I won,” said Monty B, grabbing hold of me and swinging me round. “There's no stopping us now!”

I tried to pretend I wasn't bothered about winning – that it was no big deal – but I was really chuffed. Monty B kept going on about what a great team we were and, for the first time all term, it felt as if he really meant it. As soon as we got home I rang Mum. We hadn't spoken properly for weeks, but I suddenly felt like sharing the good news. The phone rang for ages and eventually it went to her answer machine.


Hola!
I'm busy right now. Please leave me a message after the tone.
Adiós!

My heart sank a bit; I was so looking forward to talking to her. I left a message and waited for her to call back. I waited and waited but she didn't ring. I kept checking my phone but there was nothing – not even a text. She was obviously far too busy to bother about me. In the end I gave up and logged on to the computer.

I didn't care about Mum, or about winning a stupid dance contest – or about learning my lines for the show. I couldn't even be bothered to go and see Cosmo.

I was Cat-Girl and the only thing I did care about was getting into the Diamond Den.

Mum didn't ring back the next day or the day after. I was sure something had happened to her, but Dad said she was probably just busy working. I called her again and sent her an e-mail telling her to ring me as soon as she could. I began to imagine all sorts of terrible things and by the time she did call, late on Wednesday evening, I was convinced she'd been kidnapped by pirates or was lying dead in an alley somewhere.


Hola
, Polly!” she trilled down the phone. “I've just got your message. I had a few days off and we went to this
amazing
little island, but it was so remote I couldn't get a signal on my phone. Is everything okay? I did e-mail you last week to let you know I was going.”

“Everything's fine,” I said, remembering all those e-mails I'd deleted.

The lump was back in my throat and I was finding it difficult to swallow. I knew I should be relieved that she was okay but I wanted her to know how worried I'd been. I would've told her as well, but Diane was hovering about and the last thing I wanted was for her to start feeling sorry for me.

“Oh, Polly, I'll have to take you to this island when you come over,” Mum went on. “It's like a little paradise; white sand and turquoise water. Honestly, I've never seen anything like it in my life.”

She went on and on about how they'd been diving and how amazing the sealife was and then, before I could tell her any of my news, someone called out to her in the background and she said she had to go.

“I'm at work and they go mad if you make personal calls,” she hissed down the phone, and then she was gone.

BOOK: Polly Plays Her Part
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