Silent Treatment

Silent Treatment

By

Jackie Williams

Front Cover Photography

Natalie Williams

Silent Treatment

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2011 Jackie Williams

All rights are reserved. This book may not be
copied, used or lent in whole or in part by any means whatsoever without written consent from the author

This book is entirely a work of fiction.

All  characters are products of

the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons is entirely coincidental.

Silent Treatment

Chapter One

Harrow High School

April 2007

“What the hell
? For crying out loud Jen, I’ve had enough of this rubbish.” Carrie muttered miserably and stepped back quickly as she surveyed the mess congealing inside her locker. She obviously hadn’t mislaid her key the week before.

Jealousy perhaps o
r maybe it was envy? She couldn’t decide which as she picked out her history homework from amongst the sticky mess and shook off the acid pink silly string. Ribbons of goo clung limply across the front of the nearest folders and gradually dripped from the files onto the newly mopped corridor floor.

She was almost sorry that she was
sure who was behind it all. She pressed her lips together, determined not to feel upset.

It was all so petty
, hardly worth worrying about anyway. Jennifer was obviously still hurting but nothing was going to change how things had worked out. Carrie lifted the book up and shook it slightly harder. More pink threads dripped to the floor.

The incidents began
soon after her then best friend, Jennifer Crane, had persuaded her to attend an audition. Jennifer had been desperate to go but was far too nervous to show up by herself.

Carrie remembered thinking
at the time that Jennifer was being ridiculous. If you wanted a career as a dancer, an audition to become part of the backing crew to a new boy band wasn’t the best place to start if you couldn’t even get up on a stage without your best friend holding your hand.

A sudden nasal sniff distracted her from her reverie.

“What the Devil has been going on here! I never saw such a mess. Detention Miss Denton!”

Carrie jumped back from her dripping lock
er as the ever vigilant school caretaker slid up beside her, his eyes glowing with delight at his discovery.

He drew in a deep breath.

“Befouling school property! You’ll be lucky not to be suspended when I report this to the head. A banned substance on school property and in Miss Denton’s locker of all places. Well I never!” Mr. Evans looked down his long nose at her, hiding his glee badly and almost chuckling in triumph as he surveyed the mess dripping slowly to the floor.

Carrie tried desperately
not to be distracted by the enormous amount of black hairs that tufted out of his quivering nostrils and attempted to explain.

“But I haven’t done this Mr. Evans.
My key went missing last week and now some idiot has sabotaged my locker. Look at my books! They’re almost ruined,” she protested as she pointed to the sloppy mess that covered the inside of the tall grey box.

Mr. Evans sniffed loudly and Carrie watched in horrified fascination as the caretaker
’s nostrils flared even wider and the hairs in his nose wriggled in rhythm with his speech.

“Is this your locker or not?” He demanded loudly
as he peered down his long nose at her.

There was no way she could deny it. He only had to look up the number in the school register.
She sighed and nodded stiffly but didn’t speak. There was really no point in saying anything.

He rattled on.

“Then regardless of who put it there, I’m afraid this disgusting mess is your responsibility. I expect this lot to be cleaned up immediately and the floor too. I’m not employed to tidy up after the likes of you students. I expect to see you in detention after school on Thursday when I will decide to whether to report the incident to the head.” He threatened silkily, as though he were giving her a present, not a punishment. He gave a final sniff of disapproval before he abruptly turned his back to her and stalked back off down the now deserted corridor.

Carrie
stared after him while she wondered for a moment who a school caretaker was supposed to clean up after if it wasn’t the school students, but then she heaved another great sigh as she swung back to her locker, silently cursing the day she had fallen out with Jennifer Crane…

She had only given in and gone to the audition because Jennifer had begged her relentlessly for days beforehand. Carrie wasn’t sure if it were her type of thing at all. She loved dancing with a passion but he had never really considered making a career out of it. She didn’t see how you could. To her it was far more important for the exercise and tone it gave to her body. She seriously thought she was too small and nowhere near attractive enough to be anyone’s backing dancer. All the professionals she had ever seen appeared to be far more glamorous than she could ever hope to become.

But
after both she and Jennifer had fought their way through the uncomfortably crowded London Underground, Carrie had looked at who else was attending the audition and she became unexpectedly caught up in the excitement. As the hopefuls chatted, all eager to show off their talents she decided that as she was there she might as well enjoy the day and go for it after all. If nothing else at least she would be allowed to perform on a London stage for once in her life.

She had listened carefully when the
lead choreographer explained exactly what the casting directors were looking for. The woman showed them a sample routine and encouraged them all to put their own take on it while keeping to the time limitations. While the others fought for space to practice, Carrie had stood quietly at the back of the room waiting for her turn to impress.

Jennifer had immediately turned her back on Carrie and struck up a friendship with a
nother beautiful, willowy young hopeful. She had spent the waiting hours completely ignoring Carrie, while she gossiped about her dancing dreams to her new best friend.

Carrie kept herself almost hidden at the back of the crowd of hopeful dancers,
practicing the given routine quietly and stretching gently while trying to keep calm. And then, after what seemed an age, it was her turn.

The auditions were nearly over
, almost seven hours after they had first arrived and the auditorium was practically empty, with only two or three young women waiting behind her.

T
here was a short pause in the proceedings as the girl before her was practically dragged from the stage by two burley men, while she shouted and screeched obscenities at the gawping producers when they didn’t offer her a contract.

Carrie waited patiently until the fuss had died down
only coming forwards when the choreographer smiled encouragingly and beckoned her out from behind the curtains. She felt so small she was almost embarrassed as she walked out onto the incredibly wide stage.

T
wo of the producers were talking between themselves while the other only glanced briefly to look disinterestedly up and down her tiny frame.

Then he yawned loudly and
looked at down at his watch as though there really wasn’t enough time for her to go on. He sighed deeply before he rolled his eyes and nodded curtly towards the sound man.

Carrie knew immediately that the three of them
were completely bored with the day of auditions. Only a handful of hopefuls had won a contract. After seven hours the men were barely concentrating at all and it was obvious that she wasn’t what they were looking for, but she had been promised a chance to dance and now that she had decided to have a go she was determined to liven up the stagnant atmosphere.

The music started.

Carrie exploded into the routine, pent up power and adrenalin surging through her body as she released the day’s tension at last. She made every move bigger and better than she had been shown, more precise and seemingly effortlessly executed. She spun across the stage in her own interpretation of the given routine keeping in perfect time to the rhythm of the music, every muscle in her body stretched to its very limit.

The routine
lasted for less than two minutes, but she gave them everything she had. She stopped dead on the exact last beat of the music and stood, perfectly balanced, in her finishing pose, breathing hard as sweat dripped from her body.

She had blinked her slate grey eyes slowly at the now completely silent producers and stood pulling in deep breaths, waiting for their dismissal while her heart rate returned to somewhere near normal.

There was another moment’s pause as something like electricity crackled through the air, then one of the producers, the one who had yawned earlier, leaned forwards.

He peered at her
from over the top of his glasses as though she was some kind of strange new, alien creature and then he turned and raised his eyebrows at his two colleagues, who stared up at her open mouthed. Neither of them looked back at him. The first one nodded, then the second. The yawner beckoned her forwards, handed her a piece of paper and said two only words.

“You’re in.”

She had taken the piece of paper with a trembling hand and looked down at it in surprise. For two or three seconds she couldn’t see it clearly as the dripping perspiration blurred her vision, then as she brushed the sweat from her brow, she saw the word in bold print at the top. “Contract.”

To Carrie’s
complete astonishment, she had been chosen as one of the twelve dancers to be featured in a promotional video with new boy band, Half Past Blue.

Jennifer, who had danced an hour before her had not been
given a piece of paper. She stood in the wings watching Carrie staring at the paper in bitter, silent resentment. She had scowled furiously from the side of the stage as a young woman walked up to Carrie with an enormous smile plastered on her face and another sheet of paper in her outstretched hand.

The casting assistant quickly
took Carrie aside and talked her through the rehearsal schedules. She finished by giving her the address of the filming studio and as she was aged under eighteen a consent form for her parents to sign.

A seriously annoyed
Jennifer had treated Carrie to icy silence all the way home and her friend had given her the glacial treatment ever since.

At
first, Carrie had felt terrible for Jennifer, apologizing at almost every opportunity but after a few days, Carrie realized that she had nothing to apologize about.

Jennifer had had her chance. It woul
dn’t have made any difference whether Carrie had stayed at home and Jennifer had gone to the audition on her own. Though Jennifer was a superb dancer, elegant and graceful, she was just not the type the producers were looking for this time round. She was only furious because Carrie had been given the part when she hadn’t been looking for it at all.

But now she had been given the chance there was no way she was turning it down. Who would? Carrie tried to explain
and reason with her but Jennifer had only glared spitefully and turned her back on her old best friend.

Carrie tried
to ignore the hurt Jennifer was causing her but it was difficult and she was thankful that she didn’t really have time to dwell on it.

T
he hard work had begun almost immediately. There had been a whirlwind of rehearsals and manic racing from school to the dance studios. There were meetings with the band and getting to know the other eleven dancers before three solid days dancing and what seemed like hundreds of ‘takes’ at the film studio before the produces were finally happy.

Carrie
hadn’t told another soul about any of it. It still felt like a strange dream that she would suddenly wake from.

Only her family and Jennifer knew, but the silly bullying started almost immediately
after the audition. Carrie decided not to say anything about it. She knew Jennifer was feeling hurt and resentful. She didn’t want to make things any worse between them. Carrie kept her head down and her lips sealed but then Half Past Blue were featured on a television show and their first single had raced to the top of the charts.

Suddenly she was either the most popular, or the most hated girl in the school.

At this precise moment
in time, as she tried to avoid the silly string now dripping onto her uniform, she was obviously the most hated.

Carrie glared at the retreating caretaker’s back. She was convinced that he enjoyed handing out detentions to innocent victims.

How could he be so unjust? Some people loved power
a little too much!
She thought resentfully.

She
was fed up with these childish pranks. She had tried to be positive and hoped that it would all die down. It was nothing too terrible, nothing that made her feel like crying, just stupid, annoying stuff like the mess now in her locker.