Eel took a deep breath as the music started. Immediately she was totally immersed in the dance. It was as if there was nothing else in the world except her and her body. There was a fire in the place where her heart was, and her limbs felt as if they had become molten, allowing her to do the impossible. She felt both exhilarated and incredibly calm too, as if nothing else in the world mattered except the dance. She felt as if she was flying, not dancing. She soared as the music reached its climax and turned a final sequence of explosive cartwheels, coming to a standstill on stage with a little flourish.
Eel beamed from ear to ear, still feeling as if she was floating two metres above the ground. But had she done enough to persuade Granny Alicia to include her in the Swan team for the Children’s Royal Spectacular? Eel hoped so, but she knew it was an outside chance. Almost everyone at the Swan had more experience and more training than her. She was pretty well a complete beginner as a dancer, and while she had bucketfuls of natural ability, that would count for very little against the impressive technique of many of the other pupils. Sometimes Eel and her friends went to watch the seniors practise and Eel hoped that one day she would be as good as some of them. She thought Abbie Cardew was wonderful, practically perfect in every way.
“Thank you very much, Eel. Results will be posted on the board at the end of the week.” Eel curtsied, said, “Thank you,” and left. Please, please, let me be in it, she thought, giving the audition panel her cheekiest grin.
Alicia smiled and watched her go.
“Of course, we can’t possibly include her,” she murmured to her fellow judges. “She’s only been here a few weeks.”
“Why not?” replied India Taylor. “She may only be seven but she’s got more self-possession than the average seventeen-year-old. She’s much more confident than her sister. I think it might be good for her. And she’s working like a Trojan. Performing before a live audience might be just the thing to spur her on to greater heights. A dangling carrot, as it were.”
“I think she developed a taste for live performance at the newbies’ concert,” said Alicia wryly. “But maybe you’re right. At the very least, she’d charm the judges and the audience into voting for the Swan, and we might need all the help we can get. I’ll put her on the Possible list.” She looked at her sheet. “Who’s next? Ah, Georgia Jones, how nice.”
Georgia walked nervously on to the stage and stood in the spotlight.
“When you’re ready, Georgia,” said Alicia.
Georgia wasn’t sure she would be truly ready ever again. This was the first time she had performed properly since the catastrophe of the newbies’ concert. She felt sick inside in case she made a fool of herself. She had started to doubt her abilities more and more. Maybe Katie was right; maybe she was just a clumsy oaf.
Alicia peered at Georgia. “Are you all right, dear?” she asked, a look of concern on her face.
Georgia nodded, but she didn’t feel it. Mrs Collett at the piano began to play. Georgia opened her mouth but nothing came out.
“Begin again, dear,” said Alicia. Once again, Mrs Collett played the intro and Georgia opened her mouth a second time. Then she burst into tears and rushed off stage, where she was sick into the fire bucket in the wings.
She knew that she had blown it. There would be no Children’s Royal Spectacular for her. She felt defeated, as if all the long years of hard practice had been for nothing. It didn’t matter if her mum couldn’t pay the fees because Miss Swan would probably ask her to leave anyway. Georgia knew she had performed badly in almost every lesson since the newbies’ concert; most of her teachers had expressed disappointment in her. Georgia felt a total failure.
Katie breezed through the wings with Kylie Morris in tow. “Oh, yuk, Georgia Jones, that’s gross!” she cried. “Get a grip, can’t you, you’ll put the rest of us off. My dad always says that if you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen. Losers like you shouldn’t even try to compete with people of genuine talent.”
Back in the auditorium, Alicia asked Abbie to go and check that Georgia was all right, then she turned to the rest of the panel. “I wish I knew what was worrying that child. It’s as if her accident has knocked every shred of confidence out of her. She hasn’t been the same since the newbies’ concert.”
“Shall I put her on the No list?” asked Miss Hanbury.
“If you all don’t mind, I’d like to suggest a private audition in my office. If I can be sure she’s up to it, being included in the team might be just the boost she needs.”
The others nodded.
“Next!” called Alicia.
Katie walked on stage, tossing her hair, and with great aplomb launched into “Truly Scrumptious” from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Her routine included a highly polished tap-dancing interlude. Katie felt invincible. She knew she was making a good impression. A place in the team was hers for sure. She curtsied and walked off, humming “Popular” under her breath.
“A bit too sweet for me,” said Sebastian.
“Yes,” agreed Alicia, “but not a performance you can really fault.”
“She’s good, even if she’s not quite as good as she thinks she is,” said Miss Taylor.
“I agree,” said Miss Hanbury. “I’m not sure we can afford to leave her out. She’s very strong.”
“Not in maths she isn’t,” said Alicia ominously. She looked at her watch. “I think Katie was the last one. I’m going to find Georgia and see if I can persuade her to perform for me, and then we’ll reconvene at teatime to try and finalise the team.”