Musical Star (3 page)

“I’m not a…” I paused. The fact of the matter was that I
had
been on TV for years and years, and in one film that a lot of people went to see, even though it was voted one of the top three worst films of the year. And even though I didn’t see a penny of it, apart from my pocket
money, the chances were that I did have quite a lot of money in the bank. Compared to a lot of other Highgate comp kids, I
was
rich.

“Look, I’ve been famous, but I was rubbish at it. And I don’t want to be famous any more. People say things about you and they don’t care how it might make you feel. They think they know what you are like without really knowing you at all.”

“Sounds a lot like school,” Adele said.

“Maybe it is,” I said thoughtfully. “Look, maybe, what with you threatening to get me and everything, I did judge you a little bit. But if you are saying that you are
not,
after all, a homicidal maniac, then I would be very glad to help you.”

“I wouldn’t have actually ever
got
you,” Adele said. “I don’t even know why I said it. I was coming over to say hello, but then I thought there’s no way that famous rich kid is ever going to be friends with me and before I knew it I was saying what I said. That’s how everyone expects me to be.”

I smiled tentatively at her and she returned my smile.

“We should get to class,” I said. “We’re definitely going to get killed by Mrs Moreton.”

“No we won’t,” Adele said. “I’ll say I had to take you to the loos because you felt sick, but you’re better now.”

“OK,” I said, looking at Adele’s tear streaked face. “Or we could say you were sick and I was helping you?”

“That would never work,” Adele said, putting her arm heavily around me in preparation for our roles. “No one would ever believe it.”

“So who’s coming?” I asked Anne-Marie. Her invitation had arrived in the post just before I was due to leave for school, even though I was going to see her that evening.

“Well, of course I posted the invitations,” she’d explained when I’d phoned her on her mobile to ask her why she hadn’t just given it to me. “It’s so much more glamorous – I didn’t want to hand then out at school like some little kid. This is the dress rehearsal for my sweet sixteen – it’s got to be perfect!”

“But you’ve got another birthday to go before then,” I’d reminded her as I headed for the corner where I was going to meet Dakshima. Today was our first choir rehearsal, one of a handful before the regional finals due to be held in only a few days. It didn’t exactly leave Mr Petrelli much time to hone us into a “well oiled singing machine” as he put it, but he was determined to give it a go.

I hadn’t told Anne-Marie and Nydia about the choir yet. I don’t know why. I suppose that compared to what
they were doing, auditioning for the lead roles while I was toiling away in the back row of a third-rate choir, it seemed a bit…well, I’m ashamed to admit, I was embarrassed by it.

“I
know
I’ve got another birthday to go before then,” Anne-Marie said in my ear, probably while putting her lip gloss on because she sounded as if she was trying to talk without moving her mouth. “But this is the
dress rehearsal
for the dress rehearsal. Plus this is the first time Daddy has ever let me have a proper party with a DJ and everything. He said as he’s working in LA on my birthday and Mummy will be in Thailand, I could have what ever I wanted, I just had to tell Pilar. I want it to be the best party the Academy has ever seen. Jade might have a rock star father who’ll stage a musical for her to be in, but mine says I can have a Chinese buffet and
that’s
real class.”

“I’ve always thought so,” I said. “So who’s coming then? You make it sound like you’re inviting the whole school.”

“I
am
inviting the whole school,” Anne-Marie said. “Oh, and you, of course. I keep forgetting you’ve left. I still think you should come back here, me and Nydia both do. We miss you.”

“You’re even inviting Jade and Menakshi and that
lot?” I asked her, ignoring the last bit.

“Yes, I’m
especially
inviting Jade and Menakshi and that lot,” Anne-Marie told me. “This isn’t about friendship, Ruby, this is about getting as many people as I can to my party. Jade and Menakshi and that lot will come because everybody else is, and everybody else will come because they are. It’s very complicated.”

“Sounds it,” I said, waving at Dakshima as I saw her turn the corner. She nodded at me and then waited, looking in the other direction as if she was keen to be going. “Can I bring Dakshima?” I asked.

“Do you have to?” Anne-Marie sighed heavily. “Only I wasn’t really planning on inviting the public.”

“Annie,” I said, using the nickname that normally only Sean Rivers was allowed to. “Dakshima is the coolest and most popular girl in my year and I want to be friends with her. Inviting her to your party will be a really big step in the right direction. Besides, you might go to a stage school and you might have modelled a bit for H&M, but you are still the public. You haven’t won one of the leads in
Spotlight
yet, you know, so don’t be such a snob.”

“But I am going to get this part,” Anne-Marie said. “I just know that I am – this is my year, Ruby. I can feel it!”

“OK,” I said. “But don’t the
public
vote for the ultimate winners?”

“Yes,” Anne-Marie said impatiently, as if the fact was incidental.

“So…” I grinned at Dakshima as I fell into step with her. “Don’t you think you should start being nice to them?”

“Oh,” Anne-Marie said. “Well, yes, you have a point. OK you can bring Dakshima, but tell her she has to wear a dress and she’s not allowed to be rude to anyone.”

“OK then.” I said, grinning. “I will tell her exactly that. See you later.”

“Ciao, Baby!” Anne-Marie said, and was gone.

“So?” Dakshima asked me.

“So,” I replied. “Want to go to a party?”

Dakshima, Adele and I stood outside the music room a good ten minutes before rehearsals were due to start. Mr Petrelli had given everyone a chance to get some food from the canteen, but we didn’t go. Now was Adele’s chance to sing for Mr Petrelli again. I’d told Dakshima all about how Adele wanted another chance to be in the choir and after laughing in my face because she simply didn’t believe me, Dakshima decided she wanted to come along and see if it was really true.

“You didn’t say she was coming,” Adele growled at me as Dakshima and I approached.

“She’s come to support you too,” I said, peering in through the glass door, where Mr Petrelli was scowling at some sheet music. “Now, remember what I told you?”

We had secretly being doing breathing exercises at her house after school for three nights in a row. It was funny, Adele’s family weren’t at all like I expected them to be (frightening) and when she was at home she was almost a completely different person. She laughed and didn’t look so angry all the time. I couldn’t get her to sing for me even though her granny said she had a voice like an angel. Every time I asked her to sing, Adele would blush and tell me she was saving herself for today. It did make me slightly worried that it meant she
was
like those people on
The X Factor
after all – the ones whose mums or grannies said they could sing, but then it turned out they’d been lying and a dead cat could carry a tune better. I didn’t say anything about my fears though. I liked smiling Adele; she was much more preferable to scary Adele.

“I remember the exercises,” Adele said, putting her hands flat on her tummy and breathing in and out deeply.

“Go on then,” I said, glancing at my watch. “The others will be here really soon. It’s now or never.”

Adele stared at the door handle that led into the music room as if it might be red hot. “Never,” she said flatly, turning on her heel.

“Told you,” Dakshima said, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. “Like
she
can sing.”

“She can!” I said. “Probably.” I reached out and grabbed Adele’s arm quite firmly. Dakshima’s jaw dropped.

“Adele,” I said, keeping my voice steady and calm. “Just go in and give it a go. You know how much you want to be in the choir, but you’ll never be in it if you don’t try.” I glanced at Dakshima. “We’ll come in with you if you like.”

Adele scowled at Dakshima. “You can,” she said, nodding at me. “Not her.”

“Fine by me,” Dakshima said, raising a brow.

“Let’s go then,” I said, still holding her arm. “Now – before you change your mind again.”

Mr Petrelli glanced up at us as we entered. “You’re early, Ruby,” he said, looking back down at the sheet music. “While I commend your eagerness, I’d prefer it if you waited outside until I call you in.” He squinted at Adele over the top of his glasses. “And why are you here, Adele?”

“Whatever,” Adel mumbled. “I’m going.”

“The thing is,” I said, putting my hand on Adele’s shoulder, “Adele would really, really like to be in the choir. She didn’t do very well in the hall because she was nervous, but she sings in a gospel choir every Sunday so she can’t be that bad. We wondered, would you give her another chance, Mr Petrelli, please? Just let her sing a little bit, before the others get here. After all, we need all the singers we can get, right?”

Mr Petrelli looked at me. “This won’t get you off the hook, Ruby,” he told me. “Even if she turns out to be the next Charlotte Church, you still have to be in the choir.”

“I know,” I said. “I’ve come to terms with it, but please give Adele a chance. We’ve practised breathing and everything.” I thought Mr Petrelli almost smiled, but before his twitching mouth could turn upwards, he turned all stern again.

“Well then,” he stood up straight, as if bracing himself. “Go ahead, Adele. Let’s hear it.”

I let go of Adele’s arm and stood back, glancing at Dakshima’s face peering in through the window of the door. “Remember to breathe,” I whispered.

Adele opened her mouth and began to sing
Amazing Grace,
and I watched as Mr Petrelli’s expression changed from stern to pure delight. Adele really could sing, and about a million times better than anyone ever on X
Factor.

“Adele Adebayor,” Mr Petrelli said, smiling for the first time since I’d known him. “You have been hiding you light under a bushel.”

“A what under a what?” I asked happily.

“It’s from the bible,” Adele told me. “It means I’ve been keeping my singing a secret.”

“You totally have,” I told her. “You totally have been really hiding it under a bushel thingy.” I looked at Mr Petrelli. “Well?” I asked him. “Is Adele in?”

Mr Petrelli smiled at me. “Adele is in,” he said. “And you know what else?” Adele and I shook our heads. “When I discover a voice like Adele’s right under my nose, it makes me realise something rather amazing.”

“What, sir?” Dakshima asked, pushing open the door.

“It turns out, Dakshima, that miracles do happen after all.”

First all there is darkness, a silent empty space.

And suddenly you feel it touching your face!

It feels so very good, as warm as the sun,

And when you’re in it you know you’ve become

A star.

Spotlight, spotlight

Come and find me.

Spotlight, spotlight

You can’t blind me.

If anyone was ever meant to be

bathed in your golden light – it’s me!

If anyone was ever meant to be.

This is where my dreams are, captured in the light.

This is where they come true, right here tonight.

In the golden spotlight I am at home.

No need to run the race any more, because

I’ve already won it.

Spotlight, spotlight

Come and find me.

Spotlight, spotlight

You can’t blind me.

If anyone was ever meant to be

bathed in your golden light – it’s me!

If anyone was ever meant to be.

Listen to that applause, it is all for me.

I’m standing in the spotlight, being all that I can be.

This is the beginning, a beginning without end,

When you’ve got the spotlight, you don’t need

another friend

So…

Spotlight, spotlight

Come and find me.

Spotlight, spotlight

You can’t blind me.

If anyone was ever meant to be

bathed in your golden light – it’s me!

If anyone was ever meant to be.

“Right now, this time let’s try it with some feeling,” Mr Petrelli said. “Come on, people, we’ve only got twenty minutes left. This is it our chance to be in the spotlight – excuse the pun.” The choir groaned as one.

“This,” Mr Petrelli went on, “is the central song of the musical, this is what – if you win a place in the chorus – you’ll be singing on TV in front of millions of people and you can’t tell me you don’t like the sound of that!”

The choir blinked at him, somehow Mr Petrelli wasn’t quite selling the being on TV bit to them…
us,
I mean.
Only I’d been live on TV in front of millions and millions of people before and it never seemed to work out so well. Last time had been on the
Carl Vine Show
in America, when I’d accidentally blown Sean’s UK location to the world’s media, lumbering him with a paparazzi army on his doorstep the very next morning.

“Look,” Mr Petrelli tried again. “You’ve picked up the tune pretty quickly, and amazingly the harmonies actually don’t sound
too
awful. But what I need from you, from all of you, is
oomph.
Some razzle dazzle, some…” Mr Petrelli trailed off as he looked at all of us, the best singers Highgate Comp had to offer, staring blankly at him.

When I first met Mr Petrelli I’d thought he was a bit like Sylvia Lighthouse, passionate about his subject and a bit scary. But if he were anything like Ms Lighthouse then he could have frightened us all into performing. But once you got to know him you could tell that he just loved music and singing, and he couldn’t understand why everyone else didn’t feel the same way. It didn’t help that only two of the choir really wanted to be here. One of them was Dakshima, the other was Adele and even she still didn’t seem to be able to let herself sing as wonderfully again, a fact that Mr Petrelli was tactfully ignoring.

“We’ve got one shot at this, people,” Mr Petrelli told us. “One shot to get through the regional finals and get our chance to be on TV and win that prize. And maybe we aren’t the best choir, but I’ve heard all of you sing, and whether you believe me or not I know that you all have good voices. Some of them, when I get a chance to work with you, might be truly great. So, come on! I know you can do it!”

If there had been any tumbleweed in the music room it would have blown across the room just then. I think Mr Petrelli was hoping for some whoops, maybe a couple of excited jumps, but all he got back from his pep talk was silence.

“Plus,” I piped up from the third row, “if we win, we’re bound to meet a ton of celebrities.”

“Celebrities?” Gabe Martinez asked me. “Any footballers?”

“Yes, totally,” I said, twisting to look at him. “There are always a couple of WAGS and a footballer or two in any celebrity audience. They love the whole TV charity performance thing.”

“When I try and think of millions of people seeing us on TV, it doesn’t feel real,” Talitha Penny said thoughtfully. Talitha was in the year above me and one of Dakshima’s best friends. Her younger sister Hannah
was in our year and also in the choir – obviously a talent for singing ran in her family. “I suppose it would be cool though. We’d be famous!”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to sound all casual. “Completely.”

“You’ve been on telly loads of times, Ruby,” Dakshima said. “I remember seeing you and that Sean Rivers at the soap awards last year. Before he went mental. You tripped up and fell flat on your face, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I did,” I said, feeling my cheeks colour. I had been trying to chase Danny in a pair of shoes that were far too high for me, because I wanted to tell him that there was no truth in the rumour that Sean and I were dating. What a waste of time that had been. I embarrassed myself on national TV for nothing because Danny chucked me anyway while I was in Hollywood. “Live TV can be…unpredictable. It’s different from filming or taping because you know you’ve only got one shot to get it right…or get it wrong and fall flat on your face.” Everyone laughed and I smiled too because it was friendly laughter. “There are millions of people watching you so it does feel pretty weird, but in a good way – you know – exciting.”