48

Inspired!

On Monday everything was much better at school. Now that Nadima and I had made up, the whole gang sort of gelled together again – without anyone having to worry about who was talking to who, or whatever. Even Kara was trying to be nice.

Nadima and I still had our dreaded drama storytelling hanging over us of course.

Everyone else was rehearsing or putting finishing touches to their presentations which we had to perform the following Monday (groan). But Nadima and I were still stuck struggling with the ridonkulous idea of making up a story around stealing the Crown Jewels.

I looked around in despair. Lily and Kara had already romped through their ‘final’ rehearsal. Lily caught my eye and they came over.

‘How’s it going?’ she asked.

‘Oh, don’t even ask,’ I groaned.

‘Is not good!’ said Nadima, pulling a face.

Lily laughed and shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about it! It’s only a drama project!’

‘Yeah, it’s not going to be the end of the world if you mess it up,’ said Kara.

I wondered if she was gloating. But then, much to my amazement, she offered to help us.

‘What’s your story about?’ she added, suddenly looking all businesslike.

‘Stealing the Crown Jewels.’

I could tell by her face she thought it was a totally rubbish idea. ‘Right, um … well …’ she said politely.

‘It’s a rubbish idea, isn’t it?’ I said.

‘No, er … it could be … interesting,’ she said carefully, until I told her it was Mrs P’s idea, at which point she said, ‘Yes, it’s a totally rubbish idea!’ and we both burst out laughing.

‘OMG I can just imagine her!’ Kara giggled, rolling her eyes and going off on a perfect impression of Mrs P: ‘Yes, yes, yes! Stealing the Crown Jewels! It’s a brilliant idea, girls! Brilliant, BRILLIANT!’ she gushed. ‘Honestly, the woman’s an idiot!’ she finished.

I grinned. Then I remembered what Nad had said yesterday, after Kara had gone. Something about ‘if I liked Kara then maybe she would like me’. Come to think of it, it must have been a bit of a tough thing for Kara to do, coming round to mine. I bet her mum had made her do it. And it wasn’t like she’d even been to my house before.

So I said, ‘Oh, I meant to say thanks for coming round yesterday, Kara. It was nice of you.’ Lily beamed at me.

Kara shrugged lightly. ‘No problem. Thanks for inviting me in!’ she said.

‘You’re welcome,’ I said. And then I added, ‘Any time,’ and I thought Lily’s face would literally crack in half, she was smiling so much.

Then Lily suggested we join in their presentation. ‘They could just do the same as me,’ she said to Kara. ‘We wouldn’t have to make up anything new.’ I could see she was desperately hoping Kara would say yes.

We all looked at Kara. ‘OK,’ she said, and I could tell she was doing it for Lily.

So Kara went off to ask Mrs P. I bet she wouldn’t say no to Kara. She never says no to Kara.

I was wrong.

Mrs P came sailing over, her enormous kaftan dazzling us all with its clashing colours. Kara trailed behind her, looking cross.

‘Girls, girls, girls! It’s absolutely lovely that you all want to be together, and I’m sure you’d all create something absolutely fabulous and brilliant together. Yes, brilliant! And I don’t want to dampen your enthusiasm, or your creativity, but on this occasion I really do want Jaz and Nadima to tell their own story.’ She pulled an apologetic face before shooing Kara and Lily off.

‘Sorry,’ mouthed Kara, with a shrug.

‘Thanks for trying,’ I said.

Nadima looked really disappointed. But I wasn’t, because, and I can’t believe I’m even saying this, Mrs P had given me the most inspired idea.

‘Nadima, let’s not do stealing the Crown Jewels,’ I said.

‘Yes. Is totally rubbish idea,’ she agreed.

‘Let’s do your story instead.’

‘My story?’ She frowned.

‘Not if you don’t want to. I mean, we don’t have to tell your story. But maybe one about a girl like you, and about what it was like for her living in Syria … and maybe we could add a bit about how she and her family got here. So not your story – but her story.’

‘Not my story, her story?’ she said, as if she was trying to sort out the two ideas in her head.

‘Yes.’

She thought about it for a moment, and I was worried that she would be angry with me for suggesting it. But then a lovely slow smile spread across her face and deep into her eyes.

‘No, not her story. My story,’ she announced. ‘We do my story.’