Star of Silver Spires (3 page)

“It's okay,” I managed to mumble. Then I pulled myself together and tried hard not to sound so sulky. It wasn't Georgie's fault after all. I shouldn't have been relying on her to help me over my performing block. “It doesn't matter about the contest. I never would have even thought of entering it if you hadn't suggested it.”

“Hey, hang on!” she said, opening her eyes wide. “I've just heard what you can do, and I honestly never realized you were so fantastic. I mean, I knew you could compose songs and everything, because of that other one you wrote – which I still think is lovely, by the way – but now I've heard this amazing new one I'm absolutely not letting you pull out of the contest. No way! You've got to enter on your own. You'll be miles better than anyone else, I bet you!”

I felt very flattered by what Georgie said, but I knew it wasn't true. “No I won't, Georgie. And anyway, I'm not doing it.” I shook my head firmly, feeling my heart beat faster at the very thought of being on the stage on my own.

“Why not?” she asked, tipping her head to one side and planting her hands firmly on her hips, just as Jess, Katy and Naomi came into the room.

“How's it going?” asked Naomi. But then she noticed the way Georgie was standing. “Oh…what's the matter?”

So then Georgie had to explain about why she couldn't enter the contest after all. Her voice went soft and sorrowful as she talked, then suddenly seemed to snap to attention as she said, “But honestly, you should hear the song that Mia's just written. It's A-MAY-ZING. So I'm telling her she's got to enter without me, only she won't listen!”

“Will you sing it to us?” Jess asked me.

“It's not properly finished,” I said. “I mean, I'm still fiddling with the words.”

“But play them the music, Mia!” Georgie insisted.

So I did, and when I'd finished everyone said such lovely things I felt really sad that I didn't have the confidence to enter the contest myself.

“It's a Georgie song,” I said a bit weakly. “I couldn't possibly sing it.”

“Give me one good reason why not,” said Georgie, looking exasperated.

“I'll give you five,” I said, sticking my chin in the air and striking them off on my fingers in the hope that this might be the end of the whole subject. “One, I'm not a performer; two, I'm not a singer; three, everyone else will be wearing make-up and I
never
wear make-up; four, I don't have any trendy clothes; and five, I'd just die.”

But even as I was saying all those things, there was the faintest, most distant little voice deep inside my brain saying,
Are you sure you couldn't just give it a try, Mia? Then you can say you really are a proper musician
.

“So, that's a ‘no' then,” said Katy, which made the others laugh.

All except Georgie, who heaved a big sigh. “I feel as though I'm really letting you down, Mia,” she said.

“No, you're not, honestly,” I quickly reassured her.

“But there's another thing, too,” she added. “My voice might be loud and vaguely in tune, but it's not good enough for the music you've written.”

“Oh, Georgie, that's not true… Look, let's forget it now…”

“Well I don't know about anyone else round here, but I'm ready for supper,” said Naomi, and for the second time that day I shot her a grateful look.

I woke up the next day feeling a bit upset. I'd dreamed that I was playing my new song on a big stage in London, and Kylie Minogue was singing it, but then I'd suddenly leaped off the piano stool, grabbed the microphone from her and taken over the singing in a really loud voice, while throwing myself round the stage doing crazy dancing, until I'd slowly realized that the audience was jeering at me and booing and starting to throw things onto the stage, and I'd kind of come to my senses and rushed off crying.

I knew exactly why the dream had taken place on a stage in London, because when Miss York had made her announcement in assembly all about the Star contest, she'd said there was going to be a big concert in London in the summer holidays to show off the singing and songwriting talent of British youth. It was open only to students under the age of fifteen and the winner of our contest was going to get the chance to audition for it.

During the morning, memories of the dream kept on seeping into my thoughts, which was horrible when I was trying to concentrate on lessons. But by the time school was over for the day, the dream had completely faded away, thank goodness, and while Georgie went outside to sunbathe and learn her lines, I went to do my piano practice.

I played a few scales to warm my fingers up, then opened my music book and turned to page thirty-six. The piece I'm learning for my piano teacher is called
Andante
and it's by Mozart. I put my hands on the keys and was about to start playing, when it suddenly hit me that it was a really boring title for a piece of music.
Andante
is Italian for
at a walking pace.
I began to play, but I felt as though my hands were plodding along,
plod plod
, and I just couldn't make the music come off the page into my fingers and out into the room.

So then I let my fingers skate off into their own music, and not just skate, but jump and skip and gallop. Only that felt wrong too, and in the end I snatched my hands off the keyboard completely and heaved a massive sigh. I needed to play something that felt completely right for that moment, and I knew exactly what that was. Georgie had bought me a book of
Mamma Mia
songs for Christmas. She jokes that that's her favourite show because of it having the same name as her best friend.

I reached into my music case for the book and opened it to the first song. As I played it, I was surprised to find it felt much more real to me than Mozart did. So I carried on to the next one, and the next, telling myself that time spent learning new pieces was good for me. After all, Mrs. Roach often says it's important to play lots of different music to help improve sight-reading. But in my heart I knew she wasn't going to be very impressed when I had my lesson the next day, because I'd not practised my set piece anywhere near as much as I usually did this week.

Eventually I came to a song that always makes me feel sad, and before I knew it, my eyes had wandered away from the music and started playing their own sad, slow melody. Then, note by note, it turned into the first song I wrote, my “goodbye” song. I didn't sing along to begin with, because I didn't feel like it, but after a while I couldn't help myself. The song wasn't complete without the words.

“You
see
!”

I jumped a mile at the sound of the voice right behind me. It was Georgie. I hadn't even noticed her coming in.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack, Georgie! I see
what
?”

“You see, this is a
Mia
song!”

“What do you mean?”

“You said that the last song you made up was a Georgie song. Well I'm telling you, this one's a Mia song. You've got to enter the contest with it, Mia. You sound brilliant singing it. I've hardly learned any lines because I've just been working out how to get you to realize that you've
so
got to enter! At least do the audition. Just that.”

I don't know if it was because Georgie had called it a Mia song, or because the song felt so right that I'd actually lost myself in it, but something suddenly clicked in my brain, and I looked up.

“Okay, I
will
enter,” I said simply.

And then I watched the expression on Georgie's face as it turned from surprise to shock to disbelief to…

“Yessssssss!” she squealed, as we both laughed and hugged each other.

“Don't forget to take a deep breath before you start,” said Georgie.

“And sit up tall and straight to give yourself confidence,” added Naomi.

“And remember, you
are
good,” said Grace. “It's such a cool song. You should be really proud of it! I've got to go to tennis now, but I can't wait to hear how you get on. Bye!”

As Grace rushed off, Katy pulled a strand of my hair round to the front, and smiled right into my eyes. “You look fab with your hair like that,” she said. “Honestly.”

I tried to smile back but my lips felt too dry.

“Pretend the teachers are all naked,” said Jess. “That's what I was once told when I was really nervous about having to say a poem in front of an audience at primary school.”

The others laughed and agreed that it was a great idea, and normally I would have found what Jess said really funny, but at that moment I was just too tense. It was exactly a week since I'd made my decision to enter the contest, and I'd done loads of work on my “goodbye” song, keeping to the same theme but changing most of the lyrics, and just playing it through over and over again so there was no way I could possibly forget any of the words or music, no matter how nervous I was.

We were all clustered together outside the drama hall, waiting for my turn to go in and face the audition panel of teachers, and I felt more scared than I'd ever felt before a piano exam. It turned out that Miss York wasn't on the panel after all, just Mrs. Harrison, Mr. Ray and Mam'zelle Clemence. I'd felt the teensiest bit less nervous when I'd heard that, but only for a second – then I'd started shaking again.

“Look it'll all be over in about three minutes,” said Georgie. “So—”

She didn't finish the sentence because at that moment the door to the drama hall opened and out came a really pretty girl from Year Eight. She was wearing tight jeans with trainers and a white top, and carrying a guitar. She had amazing blonde hair, which fell in tumbly waves to her shoulders. I'd seen her around school but I'd never spoken to her before and I didn't know anything about her, not even her name.

“Good luck,” she said to Georgie, breaking into a big grin. “It's a walk in the park, by the way, so don't be nervous.”

“I'm not the one…” Georgie began.

“Oh sorry…” The girl's eyes flew round the rest of us, then she let out a little chuckle. “So which one of you is the lamb going to slaughter then?”

I gulped.

“It's Mia!” said Katy firmly, touching my arm to show who Mia was.

At that moment I wanted to run away as fast as I could, because I felt like a silly little girl next to this confident older girl. It's true that I'm the smallest in my group of friends, so I always look the youngest, but until this moment it had never mattered to me before.

The girl smiled. “Well, good luck, anyway.”

“Er…do they…tell you if you've passed the audition straight away, or…?”

“Yeah, they'll tell you straight away. I think they're passing everyone as long as they're not complete rubbish, because not as many people signed up for it as they expected, apparently.”

My legs trembled even more at those words, and the moment the girl had gone I turned to Georgie. “I've changed my mind. I can't do it. What if I'm complete rubbish and I'm the only one not to go through. Everyone'll know!”

“Don't be silly, you'll be—”

“Okay, Mia?”

Mrs. Harrison had popped her head out of the door and was smiling round at the five of us. I felt totally minuscule as I croaked, “Yes.”

She pushed the heavy door open wide, keeping her hand on it to stop it closing. “After you, Mia.” And I felt about six as I walked under her outstretched arm into the hall.

“Good luck!” said Georgie and the others, as Mrs. Harrison followed me in.

“Don't be nervous,” added Naomi in a whisper.

I didn't turn round but Mrs. Harrison must have heard Naomi's words just before the door clicked shut behind us. “No, there's no need at all to be nervous, dear.”

“Hello, Mia,” said Mam'zelle Clemence, smiling at me from where she was sitting behind a table with Mr. Ray.

He glanced up at me and said, “Hello, there,” but his eyes went straight back to the paper in front of him, which had lots of writing on it. He wrote a few words at the bottom of the page, then turned it over and looked up properly as Mrs. Harrison sat down beside him.

“What are you going to sing, Mia?” asked Mam'zelle Clemence.

I tried to say, “It's called ‘Time to Say Goodbye',” but only the word “Goodbye” came out, so I cleared my throat and said it again, and this time my voice worked, though it was shaky and my mouth was drier than ever. I walked on trembly legs to the piano, wondering how on earth I was going to be able to sing in this state.

“Just two seconds,” said Mam'zelle Clemence, getting up to go over to the water dispenser in the corner. She pressed the little lever and out came the water, then she clicked over to the piano on her high heels and I smelled her lovely perfume as she handed me the beaker. “Take your time, Mia,” she said in her strong accent. “Zere is nossing to worry about I promise you. Eef you go wrong, you start again!”