Stolen Girl (5 page)

E
ach year, a carnival procession was held in the centre of town. Made up of dozens of different floats, it was sponsored by local businesses promoting their wares. Everyone looked forward to the gala, especially the kids because it meant the fair would come to town. In many ways, it was the highlight of our summer.

I’d already spent a miserable first year at secondary school. The bullies had made me feel crap about myself every day, so I was looking forward to it, especially the fair with its merry-go-round – it was my favourite ride. Up until now, I’d always been a spectator; I never got involved in the gala because I preferred to just blend into the crowd. Being involved was a job for the popular girls, not me. But Lauren had different ideas.

‘Let’s dance in the procession, we could join the school dance troupe.’ she suggested, her eyes flashing with excitement.

My mouth fell open; I thought she’d gone mad, again. Everyone knew the dance troupe was made up of all the popular girls, not misfits like us. To try and join in would be social suicide.

‘Err, no way!’ I gasped, but Lauren refused to take no for an answer.

‘Come on,’ she coaxed. ‘We’ll be together and it’ll be fun!’

But I wasn’t having any of it. I thought she’d completely lost her marbles.

‘Are you kidding me? They’ll slaughter us and you know it. Besides, they all do tap and ballet lessons – they have all the right dance gear, we don’t.’

But Lauren shook her head.

‘Why shouldn’t we?’ she said, rising to her feet. ‘Don’t you think we’re good enough, is that it?’

‘No, it’s not that. You know it’s not. It’s just…’ my voice trailed off. She was right: we
were
better than the rest of them put together when it came to dancing. After all, we practised every night in my bedroom. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

‘We know all the Steps dance routines and you’re really, really good. This is something we’re both good at.’ Lauren insisted. ‘Remember the school play back in primary?’

She spoke of nothing else until finally I backed down. In the end I agreed to go along to the audition just to shut her up.

‘Alright, alright,’ I said, holding up my hand in mid-air. ‘I’ll go. But if they start on me or say
one
thing, I’m out of there.’

Lauren let out an excited squeal and threw her arms around me with excitement.

‘We’ll be fantastic,’ she promised, ‘just wait and see!’

On the day of the first rehearsal I felt the panic rise inside me. Primary school was one thing, but secondary school was
quite another. If we made a mess of this, our lives wouldn’t be worth living.

‘I’m not sure this is such a good idea,’ I said, changing my mind outside the school hall.

‘Come on,’ Lauren said, giving me a shove in the back, ‘we’ve come this far, we’re going in.’

As soon as they spotted us, the usual whispers started up at the back of the hall.

‘What are
they
doing here?’ one girl hissed to the others.

‘God, all we need is those two!’ another said, rolling her eyes.

I gulped. A knot of anxiety twisted in the bottom of my stomach like a blunt knife. My hands and forehead felt clammy with sweat; I knew this wasn’t a good idea. I looked at Lauren, but she seemed oblivious. I steeled myself – I owed it to her to give this a try.

Prior to this, and in a bid to get me out of the house and mixing with other children, Mum had enrolled me in a local majorette dance troupe just down the road from where we lived. So, when the teacher showed us the dance routines, I found it easy to keep up. I glanced over at Lauren; she found it easy too. She was right, just as she’d been about the school play: this was something we were good at.

Suddenly I heard a commotion behind me. One of the other girls had gone the wrong way and bumped into a girl next to her, causing her to fall on the floor.

‘Watch where you’re going, will you!’ she hissed.

I looked across at Lauren and winked. We both smirked. It seemed they weren’t as good as they thought they were. By the end of the lesson, I was out of breath but I’d really enjoyed myself and I was glad Lauren had suggested it.

Even the teacher commented on how good we were. I felt my chest swell with pride.

‘Great, girls, keep working hard like that and I’ll have you both up front, showing the rest of them how it’s done!’

Lauren grinned with pride. Afterwards we laughed about how rubbish the others were.

‘Did you see her?’ I giggled, hardly able to control myself. ‘She almost went flying when she kicked her leg in the air, the silly cow!’

Lauren held her sides, trying to control her laughter.

‘I know – she looked like a baby elephant in that pink leotard!’

It felt good that the popular girls were the butt of the joke for once and not us. And, in a way, it gave us a bit of confidence back. Soon we were rushing to every dance rehearsal in preparation for gala day. The dance troupe had quite literally given me a new lease of life.

‘Mum,’ I called one night when I got in from school, ‘I need to wear a summery outfit with a sarong on the day of the carnival.’

Mum turned to look at me; she’d not seen me this happy in years.

‘I can’t wait to see you and Lauren,’ she said, ‘I bet you two are really good, aren’t you?’

‘Well, we’re not bad,’ I grinned. ‘The teacher says she might even put us up front if we practise hard.’

‘Wow!’ said Mum, raising her eyebrows. ‘I’ll pop into town first thing tomorrow morning and I’ll buy you the brightest and prettiest sarong in the shop!’

As carnival day drew closer, my nerves set in. What if I messed up the dance routine? What if I tripped and fell over? My mind was plagued with all the things that could go wrong.
The bullying had subsided a little since we’d started in the dance troupe and I didn’t want it starting up again. If I made a mess of the routine, they’d be sure to use it against me. Soon, I was worrying so much that I found it hard to sleep. Part of me wanted carnival day to arrive but the other half wanted it to be all over and done with.

On the day, I climbed out of bed and pulled open my bedroom curtains. It was sunny and warm, a beautiful day for the procession. I told myself it was a sign everything would be okay. I pulled my dressing gown around me, tied the belt and headed down for breakfast. Mum was already downstairs in the kitchen when I walked through the door.

‘Cereal?’ she asked, shaking the packet at me.

‘Uh-huh,’ I muttered, before stretching and yawning. Exhausted, I flopped down into a chair at the table.

‘Well, I hope you’re going to liven up before the carnival. Me and your dad are coming to watch you and we don’t want to see you asleep in front of one of those floats!’ she teased, putting the bowl down in front of me.

I grinned, poured some ice-cold milk over my breakfast and tucked in.

Half an hour later I was up in my bedroom, tying the sarong around my waist, when I heard the back door open. A woman’s voice spoke downstairs and I recognised it immediately – it was my aunt Sarah.

‘Is Katie in?’ she asked, loud and urgent.

‘Yeah,’ Mum replied, ‘she’s just getting…’

But before she had a chance to finish Aunt Sarah was climbing the stairs.

‘Katie, Katie!’ she gasped, ‘I need to speak to you.’

I ran out onto the landing to see my aunt being closely
followed by Mum. But Mum looked as puzzled as I did. My aunt sounded really excited about something.

‘Katie,’ Aunt Sarah said, ‘How do you fancy being the Carnival Queen?’

My mouth fell open. I looked from my aunt to Mum and back again, then shook my head in disbelief.

‘
Me
?’ I asked, as though she’d made a mistake.

Aunt Sarah nodded and clasped her hands together. ‘I know,’ she squealed, ‘it’s fantastic, isn’t it?’

Mum covered her mouth in shock. For a split second she didn’t know what to say but she soon found her voice.

‘Hang on, I thought they already had a carnival queen?’

‘They did,’ my aunt replied, ‘but she’s sick so we have a dress, a crown and a float but no Queen. They didn’t know what to do so I’ve suggested Katie!’

It transpired that my aunt was best friends with the organiser, a lady called Debbie. So, when they needed a little girl at short notice, she’d put my name forward.

Mum’s face beamed with excitement. ‘Of course she’ll do it, won’t you, Katie?’

Both women turned to face me. I was stunned and excited at the same time but I was also apprehensive. I pulled at the sarong around my waist – I was scared. What would the bullies say? Wouldn’t it just make things ten times worse if I was Queen for the day? I’d be the most important person in the parade and they’d all have something to say about that.

‘I’m not sure,’ I began, my voice edged with nerves, ‘it’s just…well, I’m already in the dance group and the others…I don’t know what they’d say…and…’

Aunt Sarah’s face fell, but Mum was having none of it.

‘Of course you’ll do it, Katie – it’s a once-in-a-lifetime
opportunity. Anyway, you’ll make a beautiful Queen,’ she said, smoothing my hair with the palm of her hand.

Her words stuck inside my head. A beautiful Queen – I could be Queen for the day. Mum was right; this was my chance to prove to all those girls at school that I wasn’t ugly and useless: I was clever and pretty enough to be Queen. This would show them once and for all.

‘Okay,’ I said, biting my lip, ‘as long as you’re sure I’ll be okay?’

My aunt grabbed me by the shoulders.

‘You’ll be brilliant, Katie!’ she squealed. ‘You’ll make a fantastic Gala Queen!’

‘Right,’ she said, fumbling for her mobile phone, ‘I’ll call Debbie and tell her the good news.’

Within the hour, my trademark half-blonde, half-brown hair had been backcombed and teased to within an inch of its life and scraped into a bun. After spraying a tonne of hairspray on me, Debbie gently placed the Carnival Queen crown on my head.

‘Beautiful!’ she said, looking back at Mum and Aunt Sarah, who both nodded in agreement.

I tip-toed into my dress. It had been loaned by a local wedding dress shop for the day and it was gorgeous.

‘Careful,’ said Mum, as I pulled up the ivory ball gown. I considered myself in the bedroom mirror and gasped; I looked and felt lovely. For the first time in my life I was truly beautiful.

‘Turn round so we can all see,’ Mum urged.

I twirled and my aunt, Debbie and Mum all sighed collectively.

‘Pretty as a picture,’ Aunt Sarah gasped. I looked up at her gratefully.

‘You look beautiful, Katie,’ Mum sighed. ‘Really beautiful.’

‘Steve,’ Mum shouted downstairs to Dad, ‘come up here and look at your beautiful daughter!’

Dad’s eyes filled with pride as soon as he saw me.

‘You look gorgeous, darling,’ he said, holding out his hands. I ran over to him and he scooped me up in his big, strong arms.

‘Thanks, Dad,’ I said, tears in my eyes. But they were happy tears – I couldn’t believe this was really happening.

We were running late and there was no time to waste. My hair and make-up had taken an age to do and I’d been powdered and preened to perfection.

Dad ran downstairs to the drive and started up the car engine. He shouted at us to hurry up.

‘Come on,’ he said as he tooted the car horn, ‘we can’t keep them waiting!’

As we sped along the country lanes, I gripped the posy of flowers tight in my hand and glanced out of the car window. It had all happened so fast – my head was whirring. I was going to be Queen for the day. I couldn’t wait until the nasty girls saw me; they’d be pea-green with envy.

Ten minutes later, Dad parked the car and Mum helped me out of the back seat. It was a beautiful dress but it wasn’t very easy to walk in. The sun was high up in the sky. I raised a gloved hand against my eyes to shield them, frightened the heat would cause my make-up to run. I was still looking at the gathering crowds when I spotted Lauren in the distance. She was alone, waiting for me. My heart sank when I noticed she was dressed in her dance outfit. I felt guilty; I should’ve been with her but now she’d have to go it alone. I shouted and waved, and Lauren turned. As soon as she saw me her face changed. She looked confused when she saw the ivory ball gown. I beckoned her over and she came running towards me.

‘What are you dressed like that for? Where’s your sarong?’ she gasped, a little out of breath. ‘I thought you weren’t coming.’ she added but she couldn’t stop looking at my outfit.

‘Katie,’ she asked, ‘why are you dressed like that?’

I took a deep breath.

‘They’ve asked me to be Carnival Queen for the day. My aunt came to the house this morning; the real Queen was sick. They needed a replacement so they asked me.’

The words came out quick and garbled.

Lauren’s face changed as the penny dropped.

‘You mean
you’re
the Carnival Queen?’ she gasped, her jaw falling open with shock.

‘Yep,’ I said, giving her a twirl. Suddenly doubt gripped me.

‘Lauren, do I…do I look okay?’ I asked.

But Lauren was shaking her head as if she still couldn’t believe it.

‘Katie,’ she said, taking a step back, ‘you look amazing, honestly, you do.’

A warm feeling flooded my body. This would be alright. I was so caught up in the excitement that at first, I didn’t notice Lauren’s face clouded with sadness.

‘Oh Lauren, I’m sorry. Are you going to be okay, on your own?’

But she didn’t speak, instead she just shrugged.

‘I’d rather have you with me, but don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Besides, I know the routine off by heart.’

Suddenly, a mischievous look washed over her face.

‘I’ll tell you what, though. I can’t wait to see their faces when they see you dressed as the Queen!’

‘I know!’ I squealed. With that we both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Suddenly, Aunt Sarah stepped forward.

‘Katie, there you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. It’s time to go.’

‘See you later then,’ I said, grabbing Lauren’s hand one last time for luck.