The Time of Your Life (13 page)

Belle: The Show Must Go On

The following Saturday was the day of the
Walthamstow wedding gig.

The girls all decided to wear black for the
performance: Cat selected her 1960s mini-dress,
Holly a halter top and shorts over footless tights, and
Belle, her little black velvet dress from last year's
Chanel collection. First thing on Saturday morning,
Cat had the idea of adding piles of fake-diamond
jewellery for extra glamour, and they rushed off to
Oxford Street for a shopping spree in Claire's
Accessories. It wasn't exactly Cartier, but Belle
couldn't believe that you could buy sparkly things so
cheaply – and they looked
almost
like the real thing.
Then they piled into Belle and Cat's room, turned the
James Bond
theme tune CD up to jet-engine volume,
and spent a blissful hour transforming themselves
into superstars.

'Dazzling!' Belle proclaimed as they admired the
end result in the mirror. She smiled, starting to feel
the familiar tingle of excitement shot through with
nervousness that always preceded a performance.

Belle's emotions had been in turmoil ever since
she'd discovered that she'd got totally the wrong idea
over the dead-dog-comforting-in-practice-room
scenario. Yes, she was ecstatically happy that Jack hadn't
been snogging Bianca. It was such a relief to know
that he hadn't really been doing a Henry VIII on her.
But at the same time she was so embarrassed about
having made such a stupid mistake that there was no
way she could ever bring herself to talk to him again.
She was just so mad at herself for messing up her
chance to go out with the first boy she'd ever known
who gave her that special stomach-fluttering-butterflies
feeling . . .

So, girl, she told herself, you're just going to have to
get over it and move on. She wasn't going to let her
Jack-angst spoil the wedding gig. Nothing could come
between Belle and her one true love – the thrill of
standing on stage singing in front of an audience. Not
even a boy with x-ray eyes.

When they were finally ready, they packed their
overnight bags – Holly had arranged permission for
them all to stay at her house for the night – and signed
out at Mrs Butterworth's desk before setting off in a
taxi with Ben and Mason. The boys had obviously not
invested quite as much time in their appearance, being
dressed, as usual, in black T-shirts and torn jeans.

The reception was in a grand old church hall. It was
already teeming with guests in festive mood. Belle soon
spotted the bride, Carly, looking like a fairy-tale
princess in white silk and lace. She embraced them all
and showed them where to set up.

'Stop fussing with the band, Carly! The photographer
wants you!' someone shouted.

'That's Greg, my husband!' Carly nodded towards a
tall young man with a goatee beard. 'He thinks he's the
boss. He'll soon learn, won't he, girls?' she joked.

'Er, Carly, where's Felix?' Holly asked. They'd been
expecting him to travel directly from the wedding
service with the rest of his family and meet them at the
reception.

'Oh, you know what he's like – always late! He said
he was popping out to get something he needed for
the gig . . .'

Belle felt a cold trickle of anxiety. Where was Felix?
They were due to start soon. Everyone else was
being all laid-back and go-with-the-flow about it,
but she couldn't help worrying; she wanted the gig
to be perfect!

Ben tried Felix on his mobile phone, but there was
no reply.

Half an hour later, there was still no sign of him. The
speeches were over and the wedding guests were
beginning to glance expectantly at the stage.

Carly tried Felix's number again, but he still wasn't
answering. 'I'll throttle my dear little brother when I
see him,' she growled. 'Sorry, guys. We'll just have to
start without him,' she said. 'We'll miss our honeymoon
if we wait any longer!'

Belle nodded. She was singing lead vocals on the
first song anyway, and although it wasn't ideal, she
could manage without the support of Felix playing
the melody on guitar. Her stomach churning, Belle
stepped to the front of the stage, took the microphone
and glanced back at the rest of the band. Holly and Cat
smiled in encouragement, Ben gave a thumbs-up sign
and Mason counted them in.

Belle began to sing. She was in paradise: on stage,
microphone in hand, singing her heart out! This was
where she was
meant
to be!

Carly and Greg moved onto the dance floor to a
round of applause and began to dance. Belle could see
the love shining in their eyes and drew on that feeling
as she sang, her voice swelling, becoming even stronger
and purer. Cat and Holly's harmonies were perfect, and
she hardly noticed the missing guitar. After a few
moments, others joined the bride and groom, and
soon the room was full of couples swaying back and
forth – some more than others; there'd been a lot of
champagne drunk during the speeches.

As the last note ended, the room erupted with
applause. Belle smiled and bowed, thrilled by the
whistles and cheers of the enthusiastic audience. She
looked round at Cat and Holly, who grinned at her,
both radiant with the joy of singing. Mason and Ben
were beaming triumphantly too. Belle turned back to
the hall to see Carly and Greg in the middle of the
dance floor, still smiling up at her and clapping.

Then Belle glanced up at the sound of the door at
the back of the hall crashing open. It was Felix! He
hobbled in on his crutches, through the throng of
guests towards the stage – followed by a man carrying
a large chair.

Belle couldn't believe what she was seeing.
Felix
went out to get a
chair? But the church hall was full of
chairs! They'd already put one out for him . . .

But when Felix and the chair were lifted onto the
stage, Belle realized it was no ordinary chair. It was a
large, black swivel chair with wheels and a footrest for
his ankle. Felix scooted across the stage, did a couple of
spins, grabbed the microphone and began to sing the
opening lines of the next song on the play-list:
Livin'
La Vida Loca . . .

The crowd cheered and laughed. They seemed to
think Felix's late arrival was all part of the act. Belle
could only join in as she fell into step with Cat and
Holly, clicking her fingers and dancing as they sang
their harmonies.

Within seconds the party was jumping! Old
aunties in floral dresses were bopping with little boys in
page-boy suits; flower girls were dancing around in
their long party dresses . . . and at the end of every
song the guests went wild and shouted for more.

'I've not had this much fun since the karaoke
party!' Belle shouted to Holly and Cat over the noise
of the applause. The karaoke was the first time
they'd sung together, before they'd even formed
Nobody's Angels.

'Me neither!' Holy and Cat chorused back, both
glowing with exhilaration.

When they took a break, there was a flurry of hugs
and high-fives. 'What's with the chair, man?' Ben asked
Felix when they finally sat down with their drinks.

'Wicked, eh?' Felix grinned. 'I got the idea from
Mrs Butterworth. I hate not being able to move around
the stage. I borrowed it from Uncle Mattie's furniture
shop down the road.'

The band took their places on stage for their second
set – this time performing their own material,
including Nobody's Angels' song,
Done Looking!
The
vibrant mambo number went down so well, they
played it twice more during the evening. There was
more dancing and applause until, finally, the best man
took the microphone and thanked them all, rather
drunkenly, for making the party rock.

Belle was on a high . . .

And she'd hardly thought about Jack once all day!

Holly: Cheese Toasties and Angelina Ballerina

Holly was still buzzing with excitement as they stood
chatting with the boys, waiting for their taxi at the end
of the gig.

And when a friend of Felix's father came over and
asked if both The Undertow and Nobody's Angels
would perform at his company's Christmas party, she
thought she would swoon with joy! The company was
a well-known advertising agency with trendy offices in
Docklands.
Wow!
Holly thought.
How cool would
that
be!

The boys clearly thought so too. They high-fived
and agreed immediately.

Cat jumped up and down, clapping her hands and
shouting,
'Yippee!'

But Holly hesitated. The
Macbeth
production was
only a week away and Cat really had to focus on that a
hundred per cent now. Would she have time for
another gig?

Cat stopped jumping and looked serious for a
moment, as if she'd read Holly's thoughts. Then, 'It's
OK,' she said, suddenly grinning. 'The party gig's going
to be a week after
Macbeth –
right at the end of term,
just before we all go home for the Christmas holiday –
and if we can just do the songs we did tonight . . .'

'Yeah, we'll be ladies of leisure by then!' Belle
laughed with relief. 'As long as we start rehearsing
again the day after
Macbeth,
we'll have plenty of time!'

Holly nodded, her excitement flooding back.

'There's one condition, though!' Belle added,
grinning. 'Cat and Felix both have to promise to be
on
time.
No West End auditions. No more last-minute
furniture-shopping. After two nail-biters this week, my
nervous system can't
take
any more!'

'DEAL!'
they all shouted.

Holly spent the short taxi ride home pointing out the
local landmarks in the orange glare of the streetlamps.
'My old school!' she exclaimed. 'The park . . . the
shops . . . Miss Toft's dance school . . . my street . . .' It
was so much fun to show her friends her own special
corner of the world. She knew it was a very ordinary
north London kind of a corner, but it was
her
corner,
all the same.

It was after eleven o'clock when they pulled up in
front of the familiar small red-brick house; warm
golden light spilled cosily from the bay windows on
each side of the front door. Mum threw open the door
and Holly dropped her bag and gave her a huge hug. It
was
so
good to be home again!

'Don't you all look fabulous? Aren't you freezing?
Are you hungry?' Mum bombarded them with questions
as she welcomed them in. She had only met Cat and
Belle once, at the party after the gala showcase, but she
treated them as if she'd known them all their lives.

'Where's Steve?' Holly asked, once they were settled
comfortably round the kitchen table.

Mum smiled as she cleared away a pile of school
books she'd been marking. 'Good old Boiler Repair
Man has put on his cape and flown off to rescue an old
lady with an exploding combi,' she told her.

'My stepdad's a gas-fitter,' Holly explained, in response
to Belle's puzzled look. 'A combi's a type of boiler.'

Mum bustled around making hot chocolate and
cheese toasties. She joined in the laughter as the girls
recounted their latest escapades at school, including
Holly's attempt to impersonate Cat as Lady Macbeth.
Belle even told the sorry tale of Jack Thorne, Bianca
Hayford and little Foo-Foo.

'Oh, yes, the lovely Bianca!' Mum said. 'Holly's told
me all about her. There was a girl at my school like that
when I was your age. Her name was Felicity Pritchard
– a right cow, she was!'

There was a pitter-patter on the stairs. Holly ran to
scoop her little brother, Will, up in her arms, all warm
and sleepy, in his Thomas the Tank Engine pyjamas. She
carried him upstairs and put him back to bed, snuggling
her face into his neck – suddenly realizing how
much she missed her family when she was away at
Superstar High.

Only a few minutes later, the girls were ready for
bed themselves.

When Holly opened the door, she saw her bedroom
as if for the first time. It was very, very pink, with a
border of ballet shoes and ribbons. The walls were
plastered with old posters of Kylie Minogue, Beyoncé
and Darcey Bussell, and one was covered with dance
certificates and photos from her competitions and
shows. Fluffy toy animals were piled on the bed. Two
extra beds had been made up on air mattresses on the
floor – one of them with an old Angelina Ballerina
duvet cover she'd not seen for years.

'Sorry, my room's a bit . . . babyish,' Holly said. 'It
looks like a five-year-old just moved out!'

Cat laughed. 'It's brilliant, Hols. Bagsy I get the
Angelina bed!' She jumped onto the pink duvet
printed with little mice in tutus.

'It's perfect,' Belle sighed. 'I wish I had a room like
this!' She placed her Louis Vuitton overnight bag on
the other airbed and started unpacking, arranging her
toiletries on a shelf and laying her neatly folded clothes
out for the morning.

Cat caught Holly's eye and laughed. She pulled
her pyjamas out of her rucksack and threw them
on. 'I'm so tired, I'm not even going to take my
make-up off.'

'Yeah, let's live dangerously!' Holly agreed, crawling
under her duvet in her pants and T-shirt.

'Sorry, I can't live that dangerously,' Belle said, sitting
cross-legged on her bed, holding up a small mirror
and delicately wiping her face with cotton wool
dipped in cleanser from her selection of matching
Clinique bottles.

'Hurry up!' Cat groaned, throwing her Angelina
Ballerina pillow at Belle. 'Turn the light out, Hols!'

'Hey, I can't see what I'm doing!' Belle protested.
But then she laughed and got into bed. 'If I have spots
in the morning, I'll be holding you two personally
responsible. Goodnight.'

'G'nigh . . .' Cat murmured.

Holly snuggled down happily in her bed.
Her own
bed in her own room!

'Goodnight,' she said, yawning.

It was a perfect end to a perfect day.