Trish had decided that the first Breakfast with the Bells screen test should take place on Saturday, so that school didn’t interfere with the action.
So, bright and early that morning, the Bells excitedly put on their make-up and best outfits, and assembled outside the kitchen. Each member of the Broadway Belles had two fluorescent-pink pompoms and Little Bob had his hammer, onto which two tiny pompoms had been tied.
Trish inspected everyone and nodded approvingly. ‘Adore the pompoms,’ she said.
‘We wondered,’ Clarissa began tentatively, ‘whether we might run my latest Big Number past you? I thought it might do as a theme tune.’
Trish’s face lit up. ‘Triffic!’ she said. ‘We’ll record it, and use it to practise the opening titles.’
As Clarissa lined up the Broadway Belles, Trish gave the sound engineer his instructions. Angelina, Melody, Melissa and Emmy-Lou stood in a neat row in front of the Stars and Stripes wall, while Little Bob sat on the draining board, hammer poised. As Clarissa pointed her conductor’s baton at him, he gave its metal surface three ear-splitting bangs.
Then, taking a line each and raising their pompoms as they sang, the Bell sisters belted out Clarissa’s Big Number:
‘We’ll put the “sun” into sunny-side-up!
We’ll charm the tea right out of the cup!
We’ll add a bang! to your snap, crackle and pop!
We’ll make you wish your breakfast time would…
… ne … ver … stop!’
At this line they all joined in and sang very slowly, sinking down on one knee and swivelling round to face Little Bob, who obligingly banged his hammer another three times.
Then everyone jumped to their feet, gripped each other round the waist and, with a series of breathtakingly high kicks, advanced towards Trish and, their smiles fairly dazzling her, finished the song perched atop the kitchen table:
‘So start the day the bell-shaped way
It’s sure to make you smile
And have your breakfast with the Bells –
The breakfast show with style!’
‘Wicked!’ Trish cheered. ‘Now, Clarissa,’ she went on excitedly, ‘would you be so kind as to fetch your husband from the potting shed? I think the oldest should burst through first.’
All morning the Bells launched themselves into the opening titles with gusto, and by lunch time the sequence was almost ready for a final take.
‘Perhaps not quite so much of a pout,’ Trish suggested tentatively to Angelina. ‘Don’t want to put the nation off its Sunny Delight, do we?’
As Angelina drew in breath to argue her case, the doorbell chimed out a tinny chorus of ding! dong! merrily on high! With some relief, Bryony glided off to open the door. And when she saw who it was, she could not have been more pleased.
‘Trish,’ she announced proudly, leading the visitors into the kitchen, ‘this is Mr Ken Undrum, and his star pupil, Abid Ashraf.’
Giving up for the moment on Angelina, whose pout had deepened with Ken’s arrival, Trish stood up and shook their hands. ‘Ken Undrum, Man of Mystery,’ she breathed in reverential tones. ‘Bryony’s told me all about you and your incredible powers. You know I’m on the lookout for someone to be our first Star Interview?’ she went on, as Angelina flounced out of the kitchen. ‘How about it, Mr Undrum?’
Without a moment’s hesitation Ken nodded. ‘Sure thing!’ he said, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. ‘Oh boy, could I tell you some stories about the old Broadway days! Come to think of it,’ he winked towards Bryony and Abid, ‘I gorra few tricks up my sleeve right now. Care to be astounded?’
Bryony and Abid watched anxiously as he withdrew a length of gold chain from which dangled a bright, sparkling crystal.
‘Don’t worry, Bryony,’ Abid whispered. ‘Angelina’s upstairs.’
‘Look into the crystal,’ Ken told Trish in a low-pitched monotonous voice. He swung the pendulum back and forth, and everyone watched in silence as Trish’s eyes grew more and more glazed. ‘Now,’ Ken said, ‘clasp your hands.’
Obediently, Trish did as she was told. Everyone gasped. Melody and Melissa clung together, and Clarissa hugged Emmy-Lou close, patted Little Bob on the head, and assured them that Mr Undrum was only having a bit of fun.
‘I will begin to count,’ Ken went on dramatically, ‘and when I reach three you will be wide awake. But whenever you hear the word “bell”, your hands will once more glue themselves together and will remain locked until you hear the word again.
At the last number, Ken snapped his fingers.
Trish was instantly wide awake. ‘So why did you come back to England with the Bells, Mr Undrum?’ she asked. Instantly, her hands clamped together. ‘Did you think you’d miss them too much?’ Trish stared wildly at her whitening knuckles. ‘The Bells, I mean,’ she went on, giving a little cry as once more her hands loosened.
Bryony and Abid waited with bated breath for Ken Undrum’s reply. This was exactly the question they had been longing to ask.
‘Affairs of the heart, Trish, my dear,’ he said, slipping the crystal back in his pocket and giving it a pat. ‘Although, of course,’ he continued, winking mischievously at his audience, ‘I’m always happy to be with the Bells!’
No sooner was the word out, than Trish’s hands clamped together yet again. And just as they did, the kitchen door was thrown open and there, wearing her biggest pout to date, stood Angelina, hands indignantly on hips.
‘You’ve let yourself fall under Mr Undrum’s power,’ she told Trish in a low and ominous voice. ‘Just like I did!’ She pointed an accusing finger at Ken, then wheeled round to include Bryony and Abid. ‘This magic act can not be trusted!’ she announced, and as Trish looked in horror at the three mortified magicians, Angelina, shaking with fury, explained. ‘They made me eat an onion,’ she said dramatically. ‘On Broadway!’
There was a stunned silence, then Ken spoke. ‘Oh gee, Angelina honey,’ he said, ‘I told you a hundred times I was sorry. Can’t you let bygones be bygones?’
But one look at Angelina’s face made it abundantly clear that letting bygones be bygones was the last thing on her mind. She took in a deep breath, then erupted again.
‘Of course, I lay most of the blame,’ she shrieked, ‘on the glamorous assistant!’ And she marched up to Bryony. ‘The glamorous assistant who got me up on stage,’ she continued, pushing her face so close to Bryony’s that the beads of her braids dug into her cheeks, ‘and very nearly poisoned me…’
Suddenly it was more than Bryony could bear. ‘It was only an onion, for goodness’ sake,’ she said reasonably. ‘And you thought it was an apple, so it couldn’t have been that bad.’
The air in the packed kitchen was heady with emotion as the two sisters faced one another.
‘You promised you wouldn’t let Mr Undrum do any more hypnotism!’ Anglina shouted almost incoherently. ‘It’s ruining our screen test!’
‘But, Angelina…’ Bryony began, then stopped. It was useless.
‘Every time it looks as though our singing act’s going to get somewhere,’ Angelina screeched on, ‘you and your Mr Undrum find a way to stop us. Jealous of our success, that’s what you are!’
‘Now, now, Angelina,’ Clarissa said in her most soothing voice. ‘You’re exaggerating, dear.’
But nothing was going to soothe Angelina. ‘I’m not,’ she sobbed. ‘And it’s high time the whole British nation knew what a snake in the grass Bryony Bell is!’ She spun round and, with great diginity, made her way to the back door where she turned to face her dumbstruck audience. ‘I wish no further communication with you, Bryony,’ she announced in a voice tremulous with emotion. ‘This is the straw that has broken the camel’s back.’ She paused to wipe her eyes with one of her braids. ‘Henceforth,’ she concluded, ‘I will provide Starburst’s vegetation without your help.’
And, in the stunned silence that followed, she made her exit.
That afternoon, the air in the Bell house was electric with tension. Trish had decided that everyone’s nerves were too frayed to continue rehearsals and had left with her camera crew. Clarissa and Big Bob had made Ken a cup of extra-strong coffee and, along with the little Bells, were doing their best to comfort him in the living room. Angelina was sulking in her bedroom.
Bryony and Abid leant against Bryony’s wardrobe, munching chocolate digestive biscuits and washing them down with cocoa. At last Abid drained his mug and set it down carefully on the pink shag-pile carpet.
‘Wouldn’t think you could get that much raw emotion into one kitchen, would you?’ he observed.
‘Best tantrum to date,’ Bryony agreed. ‘Thank goodness we weren’t on air!’ She ran her hands through the shag pile. ‘Hope she doesn’t keep starting fights when we’re filming, even if it does make great television…’
She hoisted herself to her feet. ‘I just don’t see what I can do to make Angelina feel better about me,’ she said, skating a dismal circuit of the bedroom. ‘I can’t believe that I’m even denied visiting rights to poor old Starburst!’
Abid solemnly watched Bryony, racking his brains for something comforting to say. Finally he gave up and changed the subject. ‘I thought for a minute Mr Undrum was going to tell Trish why he came back to England,’ he said.
‘Clammed up, as usual,’ Bryony agreed. ‘He’s a hard nut to crack.’
Abid hesitated. ‘I’ve got a bit of a clue though,’ he said slowly. ‘About the affair of the heart…’
‘A clue?’ Bryony brightened up.
‘A heart-shaped clue,’ Abid said, mysteriously.
‘Come on then,’ Bryony said, kneeling down and thumping his knees with her fists. ‘Spit it out!’
‘It was last night, when I took him his malted milk,’ Abid said slowly. ‘I saw him shove something under his pillow. Then this morning it was on his bedside table, and I got a good look.’
‘So…’ Bryony urged. ‘What was it?’
‘A picture of a woman,’ Abid whispered excitedly. ‘In a gold, heart-shaped frame.’
‘A love interest!’ Bryony gasped. ‘Was she exquisitely beautiful, Abid?’
‘A vision of loveliness,’ Abid replied. ‘Long, wavy, red hair, rosy cheeks and a very alluring smile. For a moment I thought—’
‘Abid!’ Clarissa was calling from downstairs. ‘Mr Undrum’s ready to go!’
Abid pulled himself up.
‘What did you think for a moment?’ Bryony asked impatiently, as she followed him downstairs.
‘Oh…’ shrugged Abid. ‘Nothing really.’
Bryony unhooked Ken’s coat and scarf from the stand and began to open the living room door. ‘Tell me anyway?’ she pleaded.
‘Well…’ Abid said doubtfully. ‘The vision of loveliness reminded me of someone.’
‘Who?’ gasped Bryony.
‘Just a little…’ Abid added cautiously.
‘Who?’ Bryony repeated.
‘Probably just a trick of the light,’ Abid answered dismissively. ‘The picture’s very faded.’
But Bryony’s mind was racing. ‘Someone I know too?’ she asked.
Abid nodded, but before he could say any more, Clarissa led Ken gently out into the hall and took his coat and scarf from Bryony.
‘All this stardom,’ Clarissa said apologetically as she helped Ken into his coat, ‘has made our Angelina forget her manners. There will be strong words later, I promise.’
‘No, no, dear lady,’ Ken said, shaking his head mournfully. ‘It is I who am entirely to blame.’
Clarissa opened the front door. A little flurry of snowflakes swirled into the hall.
‘Do please assure Angelina,’ Ken went on, as Abid joined him on the doorstep, ‘that I have hung up my onions forever.’
Bryony squeezed past Clarissa. ‘I won’t get a wink of sleep if you don’t tell me,’ she hissed desperately in Abid’s ear. ‘Someone at school?’
She held him by his scarf, but Abid peered out into the darkness where Ken was disappearing fast into the snow. With a quick nod to Bryony he shook himself free and slithered after him, and in a moment the snowstorm had swallowed the two figures. To Bryony’s frustration they vanished into the night, taking their secret with them.