Bryony Bell's Star Turn

To Louise and Emma Fagan

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

About the Author

Bryony Bell beamed at the gold shooting star she had just stuck on her bedroom door, and the gold shooting star beamed back.

‘Got it at last,' she whispered, skating past all the other star-studded bedroom doors. ‘And what's more,' she added, ‘
my
star is set to shoot higher and higher and
higher
!'

She spread her arms wide, bent her knees, and launched herself into a quadruple jump, doing the splits as she landed. Then she bent down so her forehead touched her knees and, for a moment, relived the rapturous applause
Ashraf and Bell
–
Magic on Wheels
had received during their mega-successful week on Broadway at the end of that summer.

They hadn't been the only magic act on the bill. They'd shared the stage with Ken Undrum (Man of Mystery, and Bryony and Abid's manager) and his brother, The Great Ronaldo.

The once-popular magician brothers had made a comeback, with their spectacular illusions proving as popular as ever. People had clamoured for tickets, night after triumphant night.

But, breathtaking though Ken and Ronaldo were, it was
Ashraf and Bell
who had stolen the show. Audiences had sat riveted as Abid's soprano voice belted out magic spells with gusto, and each time a baby rabbit appeared from a hat, or an egg was produced from an ear, they had stamped their feet and yelled for more. Never, in the history of magic acts, had there been
such
a glamorous assistant as Bryony Bell. Everyone had gazed spellbound as she glided round the stage, a vision of sparkling-white loveliness on her glistening Viper 3000 rollerskates, making sure every trick was performed with the utmost slickness. And when finally Abid sawed Bryony in half, you would have thought the theatre's gilded walls would burst.

Bryony sighed at the memory. It had been
perfect
.

No, she corrected herself as she walked thoughtfully downstairs, not perfect. For after every performance, when she and Abid had bowed to the audience, one face was always
missing. One face, half hidden by a big red handkerchief. One face, its blue eyes glowing more brightly with pride than any other.

‘It's just not the same,' Bryony had confided in Abid, ‘when your dad's not there to see you.'

Abid had agreed. But for Abid it was different.
His
father hadn't been in New York because he was a doctor and was too busy to get away. But Big Bob would never
ever
see Bryony perform in the States. The mere thought of flying brought him out in a cold sweat. No matter how she cajoled and wheedled and begged, Bryony knew she would never get him on a plane.

The
Singing Bells
had made their Broadway debut too. In an even grander theatre one block away, Bryony's mum, Clarissa Bell, and her sisters Angelina, Melody, Melissa and Emmy-Lou, with Little Bob on drums, wowed audiences with their gutsy musical version of
Cinderella
.

Angelina Bell's performance as Fairy Godmother
, the
New York Times
had announced, under the headline BROADWAY APPLAUDS THE BELLES,
was the icing on the glitziest cake in New York
.

Clarissa was over the moon when she saw it. ‘Look how they've spelt us, kids!' she said,
pointing to the ‘e' at the end of ‘Belle'. ‘We all know what “belle” means, don't we?'

Then she explained that it meant a ‘beautiful young lady', and Angelina and Melody and Melissa and Emmy-Lou squirmed with delight and rushed off to buy more lip gloss and blusher.

And so the
Singing Bells
had become the
Broadway Belles
and, having achieved their dream of performing on Broadway, were now more determined than ever to ‘make it big' in the USA.

The kitchen reflected their ambitions. A large Stars and Stripes flag covered one wall, and the rest were stuck with posters, photographs and other memorabilia. A stuffed bear's head, which had been a gift from one of Clarissa's adoring fans, took pride of place. The bear sported a white rhinestone-studded Stetson, which had been a gift from another adoring fan, and the combined effect was extremely impressive, if a little sinister.

There was no doubt, Bryony reflected as she skated into the kitchen, that the week on Broadway had changed everyone's lives for the better. Hadn't it? She tipped a load of potatoes into the sink and began to peel, pausing from time to time to stare into their little brown eyes.

The trouble was, she thought for the millionth time, that now the Belles had experienced the thrill of Broadway, they'd be sure to want a whole summer season at the very least. And, though Bryony was as keen as the rest of them to be a big transatlantic starlet, she just hated the thought of leaving Big Bob behind all that time.

‘Mum's bound to want me and Abid to go,' Bryony explained to a particularly sympathetic-looking King Edward, ‘because she wants us
all
to be mega-famous.

‘And Mr Undrum'll want us to go because we make his magic act even better,' she went on, paring the potato's skin off rather savagely.

‘And Abid's mum's just
dying
for us to go so she can come along and be Designer to the Stars,' she added, gouging out two of its eyes.

‘So,' she said, slicing it decisively in half, ‘it's just as well that Yours Truly has a breathtakingly brilliant, scintillatingly sure-fire gem of an idea up her sleeve.'

She plopped the potato pieces into the pot and viewed them with satisfaction. ‘It's a bit of a long shot,' she said confidentially, putting on the lid. ‘But then, breathtakingly brilliant, scintillatingly sure-fire gems of ideas tend to be…'

Bryony waited till the potatoes were boiling, then skated up the frosty moonlit path to the music studio, where the
Broadway Belles
were still practising. She gritted her teeth as Little Bob's drum announced the beginning of the latest Belle Family Song.

‘
We're the BROADWAY BELLES
And we've hit the highest heights
We're the BROADWAY BELLES
And our names are up in lights
But the BROADWAY BELLES
Have a greater dream by far…
'

Bryony stopped, hand on the door, and braced herself for the next lines.

‘…
For in Ho-lly-wood
,' they sang, Little Bob emphasising the last three syllables with loud
booms
!

‘
Where? In HO-LLY-WOOD?
' they continued, the drumbeats rising to an ear-shattering crescendo.

‘
Yes! In HO-LLY-WOOD
,' they answered themselves, even more deafeningly.

‘
WE'RE GONNA STAR!
'

‘Rats!' Bryony muttered, slipping into the
humid warmth of the studio. ‘No change there, then.'

Each Broadway Belle held two fluorescent-pink pompoms and as Bryony glided in they launched, quite suddenly and unexpectedly, into a frenzy of waving and jumping up and down.

‘
HO-LLY-WOOD
!' they roared.

‘
HO-LLY-WOOD
!'

‘
RA! RA! RA
!'

‘Take five!' Clarissa yelled above the racket, and everyone except Little Bob dropped their pompoms, rushed over to their vanity cases, and began to reapply eye shadow and lip gloss as if there were no tomorrow.

‘Don't you think the little 'uns are getting a bit
too
obsessed with their looks?' Bryony whispered to Clarissa. ‘I mean to say, it's just a singing practice.'

Clarissa examined her Cranberry Crystal fingernails. ‘You never know the hour, Bryony,' she said mysteriously.

‘How do you mean, Mum?'

Clarissa peered over her sunglasses. ‘Film producers, of course!' she replied. ‘You mark my words – our Angelina's acting's the talk of the town. Any day now that door'll open and there they'll be, pleading with us to sign their Hollywood contracts. Pleading,' she repeated, spraying three blasts of
L'Air du Temps
into her cleavage. ‘And maybe, Bryony,' she added, ‘there'll be a film with a skating part for you. Mmm?'

‘That'd be great, Mum,' Bryony agreed. ‘Though not terribly likely…' she added under her breath.

‘Just came to say the potatoes are on,' she continued more cheerfully. ‘Mr Undrum's coming, remember?' She looked around to see that Angelina was out of earshot. ‘Said he'd show me a spot of hypnosis once my tea's down,' she whispered. ‘Only don't tell Angelina, 'cause of you-know-what…'

Clarissa nodded. ‘Mum's the word!' she whispered. Then, keeping her voice low, she went on. ‘Rather odd, don't you think, that Ken decided to come back to stay with Abid's family again?'

‘Very odd,' Bryony nodded, ‘considering things were going so well on Broadway. Still, Mr Undrum
is
a Man of Mystery.'

‘Moves in mysterious ways, Bryony,' Clarissa agreed. ‘And there ain't nothing like a Man of Mystery,' she said as she pulled on her strawberry-pink, crushed-velvet cloak and led the way out into the snow, ‘to add zest to your bangers and mash.'

As everyone tumbled into the kitchen, Bryony checked the potatoes and laid out the sausages. As she pricked them, she thought again about her breathtakingly brilliant, scintillatingly surefire gem of an idea.

A few weeks earlier, after an enormous amount of thought and without telling a living soul, she had written a very, very important letter. It had, Bryony reflected, been extremely hard to decide what to write, and even harder to decide how to spell it. But she had managed and, she thought with satisfaction, no one could deny it was a real cracker of a letter! If that letter didn't change the
Broadway Belles
back into nice, stay-at-home
Singing Bells
, Bryony thought, nothing would and it might even meet with Angelina's approval.

At the thought of Angelina, Bryony's spirits sank. ‘Angelina's approval' – never the most plentiful commodity – was in particularly short supply these days.

It wasn't that Bryony hadn't tried ever so hard to be nice. Hadn't she chosen the sweetest, most delectable of Lily the rabbit's thirteen babies to give Angelina as a present? And didn't she bend over backwards to keep it supplied with tasty titbits, even spending her own pocket money now Big Bob's vegetable patch had run out? Without a doubt, looking after little Starburst together had improved things between them for a while.

And if it hadn't been for Mr Undrum's onion, Bryony thought, they might still be getting on. Well, not just Mr Undrum's onion, actually. There was also the dreaded school Nativity play… Bryony gave herself a shake. She must not not
not
think about the school Nativity play. It was simply too awful for words.