“No worries, Phoebe. I was just telling everyone that we’re going to act out a few scenes from the show, practise Sabine’s song, and then after break we’ll start the auditions. I know it’s only our second session and it’s all a bit rushed but I just want to get a rough idea of who can do what.”
“But we can sing with a friend, can’t we?” said Ellie.
“Of course you can, Ellie. You don’t have to sing by yourself – not unless you want to try out for one of the main characters, like Sabine. And don’t forget what I said last week – this goes for all of you – it really doesn’t matter what part you get because everyone in the production is important.
“Now let’s go over the story before we get started. The action takes place inside this amazing factory where all our dreams are made. It’s where the Sweet-Dreamers battle it out with the demon Jelly-Skulls who are responsible for giving us nightmares. The leader of the Jelly-Skulls is Gobstopper – he’s a really nasty character and…”
While she carried on describing the Dream Factory I tried to work out what hope I had of getting the part of Sabine. I looked round the circle. There were thirteen girls including me. That meant that basically I had a one in thirteen chance. Of course, if Miss Howell said that Sabine had to be someone with flat hair and freckles my chances would shoot up. Or, if she said that Sabine had to be someone with flat hair and freckles who could sing well, but not necessarily in front of other people, the part would practically be mine. Or, if she said that Sabine had to be someone who was…
“Now are there any questions before we start?”
“I just want to know if I can be Sabine or does it have to be a girl?” said Monty B, who always had a question. “Because you know I don’t mind wearing a dress, Mandy. In the olden days, like in Shakespeare’s plays, boys used to wear dresses all the time.”
“I’m not quite sure what Shakespeare would’ve made of you in a dress, Monty B,” said Miss Howell, laughing. “But I’ll bear it in mind, I promise. Now I want you to grab your scripts, get into groups, and help each other practise. I’ll walk round and have a good listen to each group as I go.”
“Erm, Mandy, can I just say I’m really, really sorry,” said Ellie, as we got up. “But we’ve got this new kitten, called Splat, and he weed all over my script. I found it this morning, dripping wet in the front room.”
“Was that the script or the kitten?” said Miss Howell, handing Ellie a spare copy.
Ellie half-shrugged, looking very sheepish. “Erm…the script,” she said. “But it won’t happen again, I promise.”
She walked to the back of the hall with Sam and I sort of trailed after them pretending to be busy with my script so that it didn’t look as if I’d been left behind.
“What scene do you think we should do?” said Ellie, when we were sitting down. “Because I actually had a dream last night that we did a scene for the auditions but it wasn’t from The Dream Factory at all, it was from this show about giant toads, and they were…”
“Ellie! We haven’t got time for one of your random dreams right now,” said Sam. “Do you realize how important this is? Anyway, I think we should do the scene where Lolly, one of the Sweet-Dreamers, is telling Sabine and the other Sweet-Dreamers about Gobstopper’s plan to get rid of Baron-Von-Bolt and Ice Bomb.”
“But who is Gobstopper?” said Ellie. “I haven’t got a clue what you’re on about, you know. Is he one of the Jelly-Skulls?”
Sam shook her head. “He’s like the leader of the Jelly-Skulls, and he’s planning to take over the factory. Mandy was just telling us. Anyway, I’ll be Sabine, you be Lolly, Ellie. And Phoebe, you can be Candy.”
I looked at her, irritated. “But Candy hardly says anything.”
Why did Sam get to decide who everyone was going to be? She was always deciding everything. And anyway, I wanted to be Sabine.
We practised and practised and after a bit we could almost do the whole scene without using our scripts. But of course as soon as Miss Howell came over to see how we were getting on, I couldn’t remember any of my three lines and got totally mixed up.
“Don’t stress, Phoebe,” she said. “It’s early days yet. Even the most famous actors forget their lines sometimes.”
“The toad show was so much easier.” Ellie sighed. “All we had to do was croak.”
We did our scene a few more times until Miss Howell said it was time for break.
“Hey, look at Polly,” hissed Sam, as we grabbed our bags from the front of the stage and sat down by the piano. “Trust her!”
Polly was perched further along the edge of the stage, swinging her legs and talking to this boy called Adam. I’m not sure what school he goes to but he’s older than us, thirteen I think, and everyone fancies him. Well, maybe not everyone, but I know Sam does, and Ellie puts on this silly, girly act every time he even looks at her, so she probably does as well.
“He goes to my school, you know,” said Neesha, reading my mind. “He’s in my year, and he like only thought I fancied him once, but I never did. I’m not kidding you, yeah, but my sort of best friend, Lucy – except I can’t stick her any more – told his best friend that I wanted him to ask me out but I never did.”
“You mean you actually know him?” said Ellie, taking some very soggy sandwiches out of her bag. “Oh look! My drink’s leaked over everything.”
“Ellie! That’s minging! It’s not cat wee, is it?” shrieked Neesha, grabbing her stuff away from Ellie’s bag.
Ellie picked up the bag and stuck her head inside. “No, it’s definitely not wee,” she said, sniffing. “But my snack’s ruined.”
I handed her one of my sandwiches. “I’m never going to be able to do it, you know, Ellie. I’ve practised loads at home, and at my dad’s, but there’s no way I’m going to be able to get up on that stage and sing in front of everyone.”
“Stop stressing, Phoebs; you’ve got a brilliant voice.”
“Okay, listen up, everyone,” Miss Howell called out, before I could say anything else – like what’s the point of having a brilliant voice if the only place you can sing is locked inside your own bedroom, or on a different planet?
“As soon as you’ve finished eating, I want you to make a line of chairs in front of the stage.
“Remember,” she said, when we were all sitting down. “This is the song Sabine sings about all the ingredients she would need from the factory to mix her perfect dream. When you’re up on the stage performing I really want to believe that you are Sabine – all alone without a friend in the world. I want you to make me cry!” She looked along the line. “Now who’s brave enough to go first?”
Sam said she was, no surprises there, and ran round the back. She pulled the thick, metal cord and, inch by inch, almost in slow motion, the blue velvet curtains swung open and the stage stretched out behind her.
Nearly all the girls had a go even though it was obvious some of them were scared – maybe even as scared as me. I kept repeating to myself over and over, “I’ll go next, Miss Howell, I’ll go next, Miss Howell,” but each time someone finished their turn, the words got stuck in my throat and I couldn’t get them out. I felt like I was on death row or something, waiting to be executed.
When Monty B got up for his turn, he pretended to be Sabine, prancing about the stage and singing in a really high-pitched girly voice.
“What on earth are you doing, Monty B?” Miss Howell called out. “I didn’t mean make me cry with laughter!” He did a few more dainty turns on his tiptoes and then a sort of ballet leap across the stage, disappearing behind the curtain with a crash.
Next up was Catharine, and as soon as she started to sing everyone fell completely silent. Catharine is easily the prettiest and nicest girl in the whole group. She’s in Year Eight, and not only is she totally gorgeous with these dark blue eyes and short pixie hair, but she’s also got the most amazing voice. It seemed to fill the whole room and, sitting there listening to her, I knew there was no way I could get up
and sing by myself.
I started to feel strange, like I was going to faint, or be sick. I tried to remember how well I’d sung round at Dad’s but it was as if it had never happened. I tried to imagine standing on the stage with a great big Razzle Dazzle Smile on my face but it was hopeless. I didn’t know what to do. Was I supposed to look miserable or smile? Miss Howell said make me cry, but I could literally hear Donny telling me to stick a smile on my face. How was I supposed to get up on that great big stage – by myself – and look sad and smile and sing when I couldn’t even breathe properly?
Finally, everyone who wanted to sing by themselves had had their go, except for me. “Is there anyone else before we get on to the acting auditions?” Miss Howell called out from the front. She looked right at me.
“Phoebe?”
And that’s when I did it. I couldn’t stop myself. I opened my mouth, stretched back my lips and smiled. I showed all my teeth – every single one – just like Donny said. I thrust my head forward and stretched my lips even further until they were practically touching my ears.
Miss Howell lurched towards me. “What’s the matter, Phoebe?” she cried. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Yes!” I shouted. “I’m fine. I just want to sing. I want to be Sabine. I’ve dreamed about being Sabine. I know I can do it; I’ve got a really good voice. Give me a chance, Miss Howell, please.”
But of course I didn’t actually say anything at all – I just sat there smiling like a constipated giraffe. And suddenly I felt hot all over, which is how I always feel just before I’m about to cry.
While Miss Howell talked about the acting auditions I slipped out of the room and into the toilets. I couldn’t believe I could be so stupid. I sat down on the floor, trying not to cry; it was icy cold but I didn’t care. There was no way I was going back into the hall – not after that Oscar-winning performance!
A couple of minutes later, Ellie poked her head round.
“Phoebs! What are you doing down there? You’ll get a numb bum! It’s freezing!” She sat down next to me and cuddled up. “It doesn’t matter, you know; you can sing by yourself in the next show. You’ll be more used to it by then. And don’t forget how many times Donny got turned down before he made it.”
“Don’t talk to me about Donny whatever you do; I knew I should’ve joined karate instead of drama. You’ve just got no idea how much I wanted to be Sabine, Ellie. I practised that song day and night and I’m sure I must be as good as some of the others.”
“Course you are, Phoebs, you’re easily as good. Come on, let’s go in and do our scene. I’m sure I’m not going to get a huge part, but remember what Mandy said about joining Star Makers; it’s being part of the group that really matters.”
Back in the hall Miss Howell looked over at me and smiled sympathetically, but she didn’t say anything. Polly looked over and smiled as well, but it was one of her special I’m really pleased you made an idiot of yourself sort of smiles.
When it was time for us to do our scene, I dragged myself onto the stage. I just about managed to remember my lines – all three of them – but it was so hard with everyone else watching and I said most of my part staring down at the floor.
Sam was brilliant, of course, I knew she would be. And Ellie got the giggles halfway through, but at least she looked like she was enjoying herself. By the time it was over, my legs were like jelly and I was so relieved it was almost time to go home.
“Okay, guys,” Miss Howell said, starting to pack her things away. “Tidy up the hall and then come and sit back in a circle.”
I walked to the back of the room, picking up an empty water bottle and some sweet wrappers on the way. I thought about asking Miss Howell if I could sing to her after everyone had gone – I really wanted her to hear me – but I knew it was useless. I mean if I couldn’t get up and sing in front of my own friends at drama, how would I ever do it in front of a load of people I’d never even met? Monty B – wearing a dress – probably had more chance of being Sabine than I did.
And then Polly came over to me.
“Oh dear, what happened, Phoebe?” she said, pretending to sound like she cared. Then she looked round at her friend, Kate, and they both burst out laughing.
I tried to think of something clever to say but my mind went totally blank. I thought about clonking her over the head with the empty water bottle I was holding, but my hand felt just as wobbly as my legs, so I walked past as quickly as I could, blinking hard to stop myself crying again.
Sitting back in a circle, Miss Howell told us that she’d give out the parts next week and that we were all superstars.
I was just wondering whether there might be a small part in the show for a non-singing, non-dancing, big-toothed giraffe when the man who rents us the hall came bursting through the door.
His name is Arthur McDermott or “The Mad McDermott”, as Sam calls him, and he runs his own theatre company called The Players. He’s got this bushy beard that covers half his face and he wears a weird sort of black cape wrapped around his shoulders – like he’s Dracula or something.
“Greetings, future stars of the stage,” he said, bowing down to the ground.
“Oh, hello, Arthur,” said Mandy. “How are you today?”
“Just dandy, Mandy – top of the world. And so kind of you to ask. Now the reason I’ve popped in is to give you a little advance warning about next week.” He pulled on his beard, dislodging a few old cornflakes. “You see, I’ve had to arrange for some redecorating and essential maintenance work to take place in the hall, so there might be some workmen here and some…er, ladders and things. Don’t worry, my dear, it won’t be anything too drastic…” He trailed off, backing towards the door.
“Well, thanks for telling me, Arthur,” Miss Howell said, “but are you sure it won’t be dangerous? I mean, I am working with children.”
“Dangerous? No, no, it won’t be dangerous. And anyway, you know what I always say about danger?”
“I don’t actually, Arthur,” muttered Miss Howell, looking pained. “But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“I always say, Danger? Pah! I laugh in the face of danger.”
He threw back his head like a horse and snorted with laughter, spraying toast crumbs all over the floor. Everyone started to giggle, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his beard – it was so disgusting. I swear if he got stranded on a desert island with nothing to eat he’d be able to feed himself for weeks.
“The thing is Mandy, it might just be a bit, well, you know… Anyway my fellow thespians, I’m sure I can hear the telephone ringing in the office – always in demand – so I’ll love you and leave you if I may.”
And before Miss Howell could say anything else he spun round and escaped through the door, his black cape billowing out behind him.
“Well done for today, guys,” she sighed, rolling her eyes at Arthur’s back as he disappeared down the corridor. “You were all stars. And don’t worry if you didn’t sing this time, there’ll be tons more opportunities in the future.”
I knew she was talking about me, and I knew she was being kind, but it just made me feel worse.
“Can you hand your scripts in. I’ll give them back next week with your name and character written on the front. And bring a folder in with you, especially you, Ellie Matthews. I don’t want to end up photocopying heaps more scripts because you’ve lost them, or the cat’s weed on them! Now, are there any questions before we finish?”
“Have you decided any of the parts yet, Mandy?” Monty B asked. “Because I honestly don’t think I can wait until next week. I mean, just imagine if I was struck down by some deadly, tropical disease and I never got to find out who I was. Oh, and Mandy, what does thespian mean?”
“It means actor, Monty,” said Miss Howell, grinning. “And now it’s time to say adieu, and in case you were wondering, that means goodbye.”
In the car, I stared out of the window watching drips of rain run down the glass. I tried to
trace them with my finger as they went from the top of the window to the bottom. Mum looked at me in the mirror.
“You’re quiet, Phoebs. How did the audition go?”
“Oh, it was great. I got up and sang and I was so good Miss Howell fainted in a heap on the floor. Okay?”
“There’s no need to be sarcastic, I was only asking.”
“How do you know I was being sarcastic?” I said. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about it – I’m too busy.”
Sara poked me in the side. “How can you actually be busy sitting in the back of a car?”
“I just am. I’m busy thinking. Do you have a problem with that?”
“Ooooh touchy! Don’t get your knickers in a knot round your big, fat bum!”
“Oh, Mum, tell her to shut up, can’t you?”
“Stop bickering, both of you,” Mum said. “I’m sick of you taking things out on Sara, Phoebe. It’s not her fault if the audition didn’t go well.” She sounded tired and fed up. She always did these days.
“Anyway, you can always try again next time, can’t you? It’s not the end of the world. Now what do you want for lunch? It’s fish fingers or sausages.”
Fish fingers? How could she talk to me about fish fingers when I’d just suffered the biggest humiliation of my life? Didn’t she realize that it was the end of the world? Didn’t she realize that my dream to be Sabine was in tatters and that I was never going to convince Miss Howell in a million years that I was the right person for the part? The next time she got really upset about something I’d just go on and on about lamb chops or tomato soup or something and see how she liked it.
“By the way, Phoebs, your dad said to tell you the reason he couldn’t pick you up was—”
“I know, I know, he had something really important on at the centre, but what was it anyway? He never actually said when he dropped me off this morning.”
“Oh, you know, just some nonsense to do with changing his name.”
“To do with what? No wonder he never said. What’s he changing it to? I bet it’s something really stupid.”