Rising Star (3 page)

“I can't imagine
you
were scared,” said Chloe, remembering how she'd seen the twins coming confidently down the stairs. “After all, there are two of you, and you're already so famous.”

“Not for singing, though,” said Pop. “I was really worried that only one of us might get in. I don't know
what
we would have done if that had happened.”

“Look, Chloe! Your singing lesson is first thing tomorrow!” said Lolly, reading from a list on the board. “It's before registration, and ours is on Tuesday.”

They each picked up a seventh-grade schedule and skimmed through them on the way to their room.

“Dance, three periods a week,” said Pop approvingly. “Songwriting! One period a week. I don't think I'll be much good at that.”

“Music technology,” read Chloe. She remembered the recording studio that had been so fascinating during her guided tour on audition day. “That sounds good.”

It was fun, unpacking together, in spite of Tara's grumpy remarks. Chloe discovered that Pop and Lolly had each brought a favorite stuffed animal. And when even Tara propped an ancient teddy on her pillow, Chloe felt able to reveal her own favorite, a monkey that her granny had given her years ago. When Mrs. Pinto, their housemother, came to say good night, they were still all giggling and laughing.

“Settle down now, girls,” she said. “The bell will ring at seven in the morning, and you don't want to be tired on your first day.”

She turned off their light, and Chloe listened to her footsteps going down the hallway to the next room. So much had happened since she'd arrived. She still couldn't believe that the famous Pop and Lolly were sleeping in the same room with her. But the three of them were getting along so well, Chloe was sure they would be best friends. Somehow, it felt as if they'd known one another for ages. She was bubbling with excitement, too, at the thought of her first singing lesson in the morning. At last, all her dreams of being taken seriously as a singer were about to come true.

By 7:30 the next morning, they were in the dining room, choosing their breakfast. They'd just sat down when Danny turned up.

“Can we sit with you?” he asked. A ginger-haired boy was with him. The boy's amazing orange hair was long and curly and he had a grin like a clown.

“Sure,” said the twins together, and Chloe gave Danny a smile.

“Chloe's friend, Danny,” Lolly explained to Tara, who was sitting with them.

“This is Marmaduke. We're sharing a room,” Danny said as they both sat down.

“Marmaduke!” That was Tara. “What a ridiculous name.” For someone who looked so sophisticated, she could be awfully rude.

“Actually, I'm usually called—”

“With your silly orange hair, you should be called Marmalade!”

Chloe caught her breath. It was a clever nickname, but it was cruel of Tara to suggest it. Maybe he was really sensitive about his hair. Some people were. But she needn't have worried. Marmaduke burst into laughter and his curly hair flopped about like a mop.

“Well done! Mind you, you had my real name to help you,” he said. “Most people think up the nickname Marmalade before they know what I'm really called. So you weren't
that
clever. I use it as my stage name. Marmalade Stamp, delighted to meet you!”

He tried to shake her hand in a jokey manner, but she folded her arms and glared at him. Chloe was very impressed that he'd defused Tara's nastiness, and made her feel silly instead.

Marmalade shrugged and shook hands with everyone else instead. All the time his hair was bobbing and flopping all over the place.

“Delighted,” he kept saying. It sounded so old-fashioned, and really funny. But Chloe kept looking at the clock, and was becoming rather nervous.

“I have to go,” she said, jumping up from her seat and leaving her breakfast unfinished. “I'll see you later. I've got my singing lesson now.” The butterflies were back, fluttering about in her stomach.

She hadn't forgotten how to get to Mr. Player's room. But she hesitated outside. The last time she'd been here was audition day. In some ways, that day had been a disaster, but in spite of messing up the audition, she had won a scholarship, and here she was, all set to be a real singer. This was the beginning of the Big Chance she had waited so long for. She
must
make the most of it. She took a deep breath, tapped at the door, and walked in.

Mr. Player had long fair hair that fell over his very blue eyes. He was about her parents' age and still really good-looking. He had been a pop singer himself some years ago, but he'd given up performing to be a teacher. Chloe's mom had some of his CDs at home and had dug them out to show Chloe. It had been weird to see her teacher's face on the cover of a CD!

“Well, Chloe,” said Mr. Player. “It's nice to see you again. Are you all settled in?”

Chloe nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

“Can you give me a moment to read your notes?”

Chloe looked around the room while she waited for him to read the notes he had in a folder. She remembered the grand piano, and the pianist, Mrs. Jones. Mrs. Jones looked up from a book she was reading and gave Chloe a friendly smile.

The room was beautiful. It was quite large, with tall windows and a high ceiling. A thick green carpet covered most of the polished floorboards, and at the end of the room a full-length mirror stood next to a watercooler. Near the piano was a shelf with an expensive-looking stereo system on it.

“Your notes say that you haven't had any voice training before,” said Mr. Player. “Don't worry!” he added, seeing the expression on her face. “It's not important. And it means you won't be able to complain that I'm not as good as your last teacher!” He smiled. He was trying to put her at ease. Chloe relaxed a bit and smiled back.

“Right. There are a couple of things before we start. Over there, you've probably noticed the watercooler. Some people like to have a drink with them when they sing and others don't. I'm happy either way. All I ask is that if you do, you pour the water at the beginning of the lesson and let it come up to room temperature before you drink it. It's better for your voice that way.”

Chloe hesitated. She didn't know whether she would need a drink or not.

“I tell you what,” Mr. Player said, seeing her uncertainty. “Why don't you go and get some anyway? It won't matter if you don't drink it.” So Chloe went over to the watercooler and filled a paper cup.

“There's a coaster here.” He showed her. “Don't put it straight onto the piano or Mrs. Jones will yell at us!” Mrs. Jones smiled at Chloe again, and Chloe smiled nervously back.

“Let's do some humming,” said Mr. Player. “It's important to warm up your voice before you use it, and humming is a good exercise to start with.” He nodded to Mrs. Jones and she played a chord on the piano. “I'll hum with you.”

Together they hummed up and down, a few notes at a time. Chloe started enjoying herself. It was fun. Every now and then she carried on alone while Mr. Player gave her advice. “Relax. Keep your shoulders down. That's good.”

By the time they stopped humming, Chloe's lips were buzzing. She took a sip of water, feeling very grown up and professional.

“Okay. Now let's do some scales so I can remind myself of your range. No pressure, just sing each note as Mrs. Jones plays it. Don't strain your voice. If there are any notes you can't reach, just leave them out.”

Well, that didn't sound too difficult. Chloe had done it before. She la-la'd her way up the scales as Mrs. Jones played them on the piano. She went quite a long way but eventually she had to stop.

Mr. Player picked up a pen and marked the notes in her folder where it lay on top of the piano.

“Well done!” he said. “You're singing well up the scale. Now let's try going down.”

So they did, and Mr. Player was even more pleased. “Yes,” he said, marking her notes again. “Most impressive. You do have a remarkable range, and you're hitting the notes quite accurately. Can you read music?”

Chloe shook her head worriedly. “No.”

“It doesn't matter,” he assured her. “I only wondered. Let's see how accurate you are when we play random notes...Yes, good. That's very good,” he went on as the notes came in any order for her to sing.

Chloe smiled. This was proving easier than she'd thought, but Mr. Player wasn't smiling anymore. In fact, he looked a bit concerned.

“There's just one thing,” he said. “Why are you only using your throat to sing?”

Chloe frowned. Didn't everyone use their throat? What else was she supposed to use?

But it wasn't a joke. From the expression on his face, it was obvious that Mr. Player thought she was doing something very wrong indeed!

“Maybe you're singing from your throat because you're nervous,” Mr. Player suggested to Chloe. “But you can't get enough power singing this way. You need to be able to sing much more loudly for me.
Are
you feeling nervous?”

“A bit,” she admitted. But she hadn't been while she'd been singing. She'd gotten over her nervousness and had been enjoying the humming and scales. She was nervous now only because Mr. Player was unhappy with how she was singing.

“Let's try a nursery rhyme,” he suggested. “Maybe you've been worrying too much about getting the pitch right. Do you know ‘Baa Baa Black Sheep'? Let's hear it good and loud. Pretend you're singing it to a little boy all the way down there by the mirror.”

Chloe looked at the mirror. She tried to imagine singing to Ben, but if he were there he'd come racing up the room and throw his arms round her knees. Now she was nervous
and
homesick!

Mr. Player smiled encouragingly. “Come on, Chloe. Don't worry about being in tune. Just give me some volume.”

Now, volume hadn't been Chloe's thing since she was eight years old and her elementary school teacher hadn't let her sing in the choir. She'd said Chloe's voice didn't fit in with the rest of the children's voices. In a way, the teacher had been right. Chloe's voice didn't fit, but only because it had been so powerful, and so much louder than all the others. She hadn't sung out of tune.

At home, it was almost as bad. Once Ben had been born, Chloe couldn't sing loudly because of disturbing her baby brother's sleep. Over the years, she'd gotten out of the habit of singing in anything much more than a loud whisper. Had she forgotten how to do it?

“Come on, Chloe,” urged Mr. Player. “Give it all you've got!”

She tried but he winced.

“Now you're shouting,” he complained. “And even your shout isn't very loud.”

“Sorry,” Chloe mumbled. This was terrible. How could she make her voice louder? Her first voice lesson was going dreadfully.

“It's all right,” Mr. Player said. “Don't panic. But you'll have to work on this. You're going to need power as well as your excellent range to sing professionally. Even using a microphone, to get real expression into a song you need to be able to sing quietly
and
power away as well.” Chloe nodded miserably.

“The school day is about to start,” he said, looking at his watch. “And we haven't gotten through as much as I'd hoped. Never mind. Don't you
ever
sing loudly?”

Chloe shook her head. “I've always just sung in my room because my teacher in elementary school, Mrs. Pendle, said my voice didn't fit the choir. And I have to keep quiet because of my little brother,” she explained.

Mr. Player shook his head. “Poor you! Well, some people instinctively use their tummy muscles when they sing, but you're only singing from your throat. Don't worry. You'll get it. You have to learn to use your tummy muscles to push the air out of your lungs. That's your problem. I should think being told to sing quietly all the time hasn't helped, but here you'll be able to sing as loudly as you like! And that's what I'm here for, to help iron out any problems. Once we've got you over this hurdle, we can move on to more exciting things.” He smiled at her.

“The most important thing is that you don't strain your voice by trying too hard. Don't overdo it. I just want you to think about where the sound comes from. It should come from deep inside you. If you put your hand on your tummy while you sing, you should be able to feel your muscles working. All right?”

Chloe nodded uncertainly.

There was a knock on the office door and Mr. Player closed Chloe's file. “Don't worry,” he told her. “It's still early. I'll see you later in the week.”

Chloe had to rush to get back for registration at Paddock House. She felt dreadful. Instead of being on the way to fame, she felt as if she was on her way to disaster!

She had worked so hard to convince her parents that singing was what she really wanted to do. After the argument to get them to agree to her trying for a place, and the nail-biting audition, she had finally gotten to Rockley Park School, only to find that she couldn't sing properly.

Mr. Player had told her not to worry, but how could she
not
worry? What if she couldn't get her voice right in time to sing in the concert? Chloe desperately wanted those Rising Star points, but they felt a million miles away now. Then an even worse thought crept into her mind. What if she
never
got her voice right? No, that was too terrifying to contemplate.

Ambition had gotten Chloe to Rockley Park, that and determination. She took a deep breath and decided that she
would
sing well at the concert, come what may. It was still early. She would find a way. Maybe she'd be able to pick up some tips from her friends before the next lesson. It wasn't a good idea to panic. So she pushed all her secret fears as far away as possible, into a dark corner of her mind, and went to join the others for registration.