Georgia was playing the piano in one of the music practice rooms. She didn’t really want to practise, even though she had her grade-three exam coming up at Christmas, but she didn’t want to be on her own, either. Since the day of the newbies’ concert, Katie had been particularly snide and unpleasant to Georgia, as if she was testing her loyalty.
“Oh, look, here comes Miss Clumsy Clots!” she’d say every time Georgia came near, and she excluded Georgia from a sleepover party. Aeysha had been really apologetic about going, but Georgia didn’t blame her; if it had been the other way round she’d have probably gone too. When the Queen Bee called, they all buzzed.
Georgia finished playing her piece and sighed. She couldn’t keep away from Katie; she wanted her approval and she wanted to be invited to the swimming-pool party that she had heard was being planned, but she hated herself for it. She felt like a puppet on a string. She wanted to break free of the puppet master but she couldn’t bear the thought of being alone at a time when home was so sad and miserable. Only that morning, her mum had said that she was going to have to make an appointment to see Miss Swan.
“I promise that I’ll do anything I can to keep you at the Swan, Georgia. But I can’t promise the impossible. I want you to know that I really am trying my best.” Georgia had pushed aside her cereal bowl and given her mum a big hug, but her stomach had lurched at the thought that she might have to leave.
She started playing a Mozart piece. She wasn’t playing well but Olivia, walking past the room, heard the music and was transported back to a glorious summer in Ireland when Jack had used the same piece for part of his act. Quietly she opened the door and crept in to listen.
“I enjoyed your playing,” she said when Georgia had finished.
Georgia turned round and smiled hesitantly. “I like it because it sounds how I feel inside.”
“Sad?” said Olivia, surprised.
Georgia nodded.
“But you always look pretty happy to me.”
“It’s called putting an act,” said Georgia. She took a deep breath. “Sometimes I think I’m better at acting being me than I am at actually being me.” She beckoned Olivia over to squeeze next to her on the piano stool and they sat together, their backs to the open door.
“Sometimes,” said Olivia, “I don’t like being me at all and wish I could be someone else. I used to be comfortable in my own skin. I knew who I was, what I was good at and where I belonged in the universe. Now I don’t even recognise myself. I’m snappy and miserable all the time. How do you bear it here?”
Georgia looked surprised. “But I love it at the Swan! I’m dead scared that I’m going to have to leave. My mum doesn’t think she can manage the fees after the end of this term. I love the singing and the dancing and the acting. I know you think acting is silly, but when you’re doing it, it doesn’t feel silly at all – it’s thrilling – and when you’re doing it well you can feel that the audience is thrilled too. They believe entirely in the world that you are creating; for that moment nothing else matters to them or to you. It’s as if your entire life, your past and your future only exists in that single moment.”
“I feel like that when I’m on the wire,” said Olivia.
“The wire?” asked Georgia.
“The high-wire.”
“You can do that?” Georgia asked admiringly.
“Yup.”
“That’s so cool. Can I watch you?” asked Georgia shyly.
“Fat chance,” replied Olivia grumpily. “My gran hates the circus and there’s nowhere to practise.”
“Bet you’re amazing.”
“Really?” said Olivia with sarcasm in her voice. “I’m the baby ballet girl, remember. The one you and your friend Katie Wilkes-Cox make fun of at every chance.”
Georgia turned beetroot red. “I never meant—” she protested.
“But you still do it,” snapped Olivia. There was an uncomfortable silence.
“I know it’s no excuse, but I don’t join in.”
“But you’re there, and you don’t say anything and you never raise a finger to stop it, do you? I don’t know if that makes you any better than Katie, and in fact it might make you worse. You let somebody else do the dirty work, look anguished but you don’t actually protest.”
“No,” whispered Georgia. “I don’t. I’m a coward.”
Olivia looked at her. “Oh, please don’t cry, Georgia,” said Olivia. “I’m as much a coward as you are. I never tell anyone what she’s doing. But I’ve made such a bad start at the Swan, I know that nobody would believe me. She may be a rubbish Miranda, but Katie’s a very good little actress. In front of the teachers she acts as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. She opens her eyes wide and smiles that irritating little smile and everybody falls for it, even my gran.”
She looked hard at Georgia. “Even you aren’t prepared to speak up against her when she’s done something truly dreadful. You didn’t fall at the newbies’ concert, did you? You were pushed, and you think Katie did it.”
Georgia gasped. “How do you know that?”
“You don’t have to be Sherlock Holmes to work it out. I saw you come through that curtain like a rocket and I saw who benefited because you couldn’t go on. But, of course, as long as you protest that it was an accident, nobody’s going to think differently and Katie’s in the clear.”
“You won’t blab, will you, Olivia?” said Georgia, looking panic-stricken.
“Of course I won’t. I’m a coward, remember, just like you. Anyway, nobody would believe me; they all think I’m some kind of freak. But then I think Katie’s a monster.”
“Her dad’s awful. If I had a dad like that, I’d just want to curl up and die,” said Georgia.
“Yes, we saw him,” said Olivia. She mimicked Mr Wilkes-Cox. “Katie, you’re a little star! What have you got to do, Katie? You’ve got to shine, Katie, shine!”
“Shine, Katie, shine!” repeated Georgia, exaggerating the words to comic effect. Olivia and Georgia burst out laughing and they didn’t notice Katie standing listening at the open door. She had a face like thunder and she was clenching her fists.
Olivia suddenly stopped laughing. “We’re being as bad as she is,” she said guiltily.
“Totally,” said Georgia seriously. “We are. But at least Katie will never know what we said.”