Chapter Eight

Silver Shoes was quiet when I arrived. I could hear a class in studio two but no one else seemed to be around. Technique class was at five o’ clock, so I’d see all my friends then, but what was I meant to do in the meantime?

I clod-hopped past reception, turned right and went down the hall that ran along the side of the two main studios. The side that didn’t look onto the studios was lined with framed pictures and posters, and up the nearest end to reception was the Silver Shoes noticeboard. I studied it all, hoping for inspiration about what I might be able to do for the next few weeks while my ankle healed.

I peeped through the viewing window that looked in on studio two. The juniors were in there, learning a jazz routine. The sight of them having fun and jumping around so easily made my heart twinge. They had huge smiles on their faces and I understood how they felt, but I couldn’t imagine feeling like that myself with an ankle the size of a bouncing castle.

Next I poked around the back of Silver Shoes, studying the props and costume rooms, which were looking pretty spick and span thanks to Ashley’s work cleaning them. Maybe I could do that, too?

But I didn’t want to take away from Ashley’s job. I knew that doing it helped her pay for her beloved hip hop lessons at Silver Shoes and I would never ruin that for her.

I kept trudging on through the dark, sweet-smelling hallways, past the change rooms and Miss Caroline’s office and then the teachers’ room, where they all hang out when they don’t have to teach.

‘Riley!’ a voice called to me through the open door.

I stopped. ‘Yes?’

‘Come in here a minute, would you?’ Miss Caroline poked her head around the door, a steaming mug of coffee in her hand.

‘Sure,’ I said.

I wondered if I was in trouble for leaving jazz class so suddenly yesterday. Miss Caroline had been doing me a favour by letting me watch the lesson, and I guess it had been a bit rude when I stormed out.

I inched through the open doorway, trying not to look around and make a big deal about being in the teachers’ room. It’s kind of a forbidden, unknown territory to students.

I mean, really, it was just an old room with peeling wallpaper and a giant ballerina rug, some old couches covered in colourful throws, with a few coffee tables and a little kitchen.

‘Come and have a seat.’ Miss Caroline patted the couch opposite her. ‘Would you like some cake? Billie brought it in today. She makes the most delicious sweets.’

‘Um … thank you.’ I took a slice, more to be polite than anything. Then I put it in a napkin on my lap and picked at it with my fingers.

‘How are you doing, Riley? How’s the ankle?’ Miss Caroline took a sip of her coffee. ‘Ick,’ she said, making a face. ‘Instant.’

‘My ankle? Well, you know, still not working.’ I studied a crumb and popped it into my mouth.

My gaze wandered around the room. I didn’t want to look Miss Caroline in the eyes because I knew I would get upset and she’d see how down I really was. I don’t like to show my feelings, much. I think I get it from Tata. That doesn’t mean I don’t have them, though!

‘That must be very frustrating,’ Miss Caroline said, ‘for a girl with your ambition and dedication and, dare I say, competitiveness.’ Her eyes twinkled at me over the steam of her coffee. With her hair in a long plait, she looked much younger than I knew she was.

‘Yeah,’ I agreed. ‘I don’t like sitting around on my bum, er, backside, that’s for sure. But I’m also really worried about exams. I felt I was totally prepared for them, and now I don’t even know if my ankle will be healed in time.’

‘Don’t worry about that,’ Miss Caroline said. ‘If worst comes to worst, I’ll make an allowance that you can sit your exams at a later date to everyone else. But I’m sure that if you follow your doctor’s instructions and rest your ankle properly, you’ll be just fine.’

‘Thank you, Miss Caroline,’ I said. I scraped at some icing with my finger.

‘But –’ Miss Caroline sat back on the couch ‘– what to do while we wait for this ankle to heal, hmm?’

I looked down at my cake.

‘I may have a proposition for you, Riley,’ she said.

For the first time in almost a week, I felt a little flare of hope. ‘Yes?’ I said.

‘It’s going to be hectic coming into exams and also the end-of-year performance,’ Miss Caroline said. She held up her mug. ‘Even finding time to sit down to have a cuppa is hard these days. I could really use a personal assistant, someone to help me out. To be my extra set of eyes in class and to take exam groups when I’m busy with another; maybe even run a few errands for me? Is that something you’d like to do, Riley?’

‘Yes!’ I said. ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ I leaned forward and only just caught the slice of cake in time to prevent it from a mushy death on the rug.

‘Well, consider yourself hired!’ Miss Caroline laughed. ‘Welcome to the staff of Silver Shoes, Riley Nason.’