It turned out to be a really good afternoon. It was raining outside, but we were snug on the couch watching a cool old film, and it all felt very cosy and nice.
Rachel seemed pretty happy too, but I can’t be happy for her because of Jenny and Tom. It’s like I know something bad is going to happen, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it, because, whether I tell or not, Rachel will find out eventually anyway and will be miserable (and probably angry at me). I’m trying not to think about it, but it keeps creeping back into my head.
I will distract myself by writing a poem about Sam (just a haiku, they’re easier because they’re shorter).
Ink hands, messy hair
I do like talking to you
But do you like me?
I think it is quite a mysterious poem. Maybe it’s easier to be enigmatic on paper. I certainly can’t manage it in real life. This evening I was just sitting on the couch thinking big profound thoughts about LIFE and my mother came in and said, ‘If you’re just going to sit there staring into space, come and help me change some bed sheets.’ No one understands me around here.
I don’t believe it. Mrs Harrington is clearly a better writer than I thought she’d be. She was in a very good mood in English today, and when the class was finished she called me over and told me that she has heard back from that agent and he wants to represent her! And he thinks that her book has ‘huge bestseller’ potential!
‘So do thank your mammy for me,’ she said happily. ‘I’d never have written a word if it weren’t for her lovely books.’
‘I will,’ I said. ‘Um, congratulations!’
I am quite happy for her, I suppose, as well as surprised. This time last year she drove me mad, but either I’ve got used to her or she’s calmed down. Anyway, if this agent does sell her book to a publisher, she might take a break from teaching to concentrate on writing.
‘Though not before I’ve seen you all through your Junior Cert,’ she told me. I suppose that’s for the best, seeing as we’ve already had two English teachers since first year.
And Mrs Harrington was not the only surprising success story of today. As soon as we got back to our classroom for morning break, Vanessa began talking at top volume about her public appearances over the weekend. Apparently poor Handsome Dan was roped in again, the poor little thing. Anyway, she was in full flow when Karen finally got a word in and said, ‘You never know, I might be joining you on screen soon. I’ve got an audition for a mobile-phone ad on Saturday! And Sarah who runs the drama group thinks I’ve got a pretty good chance.’
‘You’ve got an actual audition?’ said Vanessa, sounding very surprised.
Karen looked annoyed for a moment, then she said, ‘Yeah, you knew Bernard and I were looking out for them. You said you’d give us some tips!’
‘Well, of course I will,’ said Vanessa. ‘Now, when they give you the script, here’s what you should do first.’
Soon she was in her element, acting like an expert. Of course Karen ate up her every word. Still, I don’t think Vanessa would be very happy if Karen did actually get an acting job and stole her thunder. Not that I particularly want to see Karen on screen either, of course. But it would almost be worth it if it stopped Vanessa going on about Kookie all the time.
Cass has produced some excellent sketches for our (possible) backdrop! She went for the ‘imagine the letters spelling out Hey Dollface are windows and you can see a rainbow through them’ effect. It really does look very cool. The only issue is whether we’ll be able to produce this logo perfectly on a sheet. Cass is, of course, totally convinced that we can.
‘I’ve even found a plain white sheet we can use,’ she said. ‘So there are no excuses.’
‘But what about paints?’ said Alice.
‘We can just use poster paints,’ said Cass. ‘Nick has loads of them.’
Even annoying little brothers can be useful sometimes. We have agreed to go over to Cass’s house on Sunday afternoon to work on it.
‘If it was still summer, we could have done it out in the garden,’ she said. ‘The more space, the better. But the dining-room table will have to do. It won’t take long at all once we get started!’ She is convinced we’ll get the whole thing done in five minutes despite the fact that none of us has ever painted anything on a sheet before. Including Cass, despite her stage set experience. When we were doing Mary Poppins, they were painting on canvas and wood, which is a lot stiffer and less likely to get all crumpled up. I suspect we’re going to need a spare sheet, but Cass is worryingly confident. She wanted to try putting together some film projections too, but we talked her out of it because it would just take up too much time.
‘One step at a time, Cass,’ said Alice. ‘We can have projections at the next gig.’
I hope my parents actually let me go round to Cass’s house on Sunday. There have been a few comments recently about how I keep staying out all day on Saturday during an exam year. But really, the weekends are meant to be about time off! I think I’m studying pretty hard during the week (well, I’m doing all my homework fairly well and surely some knowledge has to be going in). Also, I will tell them that I have been combining studying with music by speaking German during practice. Surely that will convince them.
I’ll have to be careful when I ask, though, because Mum is very busy with work this week. She is finishing the editing of her next adult book (the one with the character named after Mrs Harrington) and getting ready for the publication of the next Ruthie book (sigh), so what with that and the musical she’s been a bit frazzled over the last few days. If I ask her at the wrong time, she’s quite likely to say no without even thinking about it. This morning I asked her if she’d seen my pencil case and she started going on about how I needed to get more organised in an exam year and how my room was a tip, which is a bit unfair because her study is so messy it looks like the aftermath of an explosion in a book factory.
And Dad wasn’t his usual cheery self this evening when he and Mum came home from practice. He clearly feels embarrassed about everyone thinking he was trying to steal their thunder. If only Henry Higgins’s songs were a bit more dancy. Or if only there was a part of the show where he could dance without taking all the attention away from the people who were singing.
Oh my God.
There is! I’ve just had my best idea ever. I must tell Dad straight away.
I told Dad my genius idea, and he likes it! When I went downstairs, he was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea and the newspaper in front of him, staring into space.
‘Dad?’ I said. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Oh, sorry, love, I was miles away,’ he said, smiling at me. ‘What’s up?’
‘Well, I’ve had an idea,’ I said. ‘For you and My Fair Lady. I know how you can do more dancing.’
Dad sighed.
‘I don’t think that production needs any more new ideas, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘Henry Higgins is just going to stick to his own scenes from now on. The rest of the cast were right, it wasn’t fair to them. I don’t really know what I was thinking …’
‘No, listen,’ I said. ‘I don’t want you to dance in other people’s scenes. I think you should dance in the overture. I mean, to the overture.’
Dad stared at me.
‘The what?’ he said.
‘The sort of instrumental medley of all the songs,’ I said.
‘I know what it is,’ said Dad. ‘But what do you mean?’
‘Well, before the main part of the show starts,’ I said. ‘They could play the overture and you could work out a routine for it. You could take all that dancing you added to the getting-married song and ‘Wouldn’t It Be Loverly’, and all that, and put the routines together. Then you’d get to dance AND you wouldn’t be treading on anyone else’s toes. Not literally. You know what I mean.’
Dad looked thoughtful. Then his face brightened up. ‘You know what, Rebecca, that just might work …’ he said. ‘It really might. I’ll talk to Laura about
it on Thursday. Thanks, love!’
He gave me a hug.
‘Don’t mention it,’ I said grandly, and I left him putting on the My Fair Lady soundtrack, clearly planning what routine he can do to the overture. At last, I have actually managed to help one of my family (I know I was trying to help Rachel, but I think the whole ‘keeping a secret from her’ bit might cancel that out)! I just hope Laura the director likes the idea too.
There was another big surprise at school today. And for once, it was a good one! When we arrived for our geography class Miss Kelly strode in and announced that today we were going to run through some sample exam papers (other teachers would probably have just handed them out, but Miss Kelly likes announcing things). As soon as I heard these words, my heart sank. I know we have to see the papers, but I was freaked out enough last week by Mrs O’Reilly, and in her case I was sure we’d actually been spending all our time on the actual subject. So I was almost scared of what I’d see on the geography paper.
And of course, as soon as it landed on my desk, I scanned down the questions and started to feel panicky. I was totally sure we hadn’t covered any of these topics. Like urban population growth in India – when had we sat down and studied that? Never, as far as I could tell.
But then something happened. I remembered the times when Miss Kelly went on about how we’d all have to eat bugs because the population of the earth was expanding too fast for us to continue eating the way we’ve always eaten. As well as the disgusting insect-eating bits, she actually did tell us a lot about population growth and urban development. And then I looked at the question about drawing graphs and remembered Miss Kelly using a similar method to tell us about weather fluctuations. It turns out we have actually been learning lots of geography without really realising it!
I was so amazed by this revelation, I actually said, ‘But we’ve covered loads of this!’ out loud in a surprised voice. As soon as I said it, I was horrified. But Miss Kelly looked at me and grinned.
‘Of course we have, girls!’ she said. ‘I’m an educator as well as an environmentalist.’
Who knew you could teach girls so much about geography through the medium of natural-disaster-based terror? It’s amazing. I feel much better about the exams now.
I do feel a bit weird about other stuff, though. Well, about Sam. I only get to see him once a week and it’s not like we ever text or message each other or have any online contact during the week. What if it’s a case of ‘out of sight, out of mind’? He might forget all about me as soon as he goes home on Saturday. And I’m worried I’ve been a bit gushy and overly enthusiastic recently. If he doesn’t fancy me (and I must remind myself there is a perfectly good chance that he just sees me as a friend, like Lucy), then I really don’t want him to know that I like him. Maybe I will keep my distance a bit this weekend. Well, no, I’m not going to do that. But I will make sure I don’t look like I’m totally after him. I will try and get a perfect balance. Oh, fancying someone is all very stressful sometimes.
I was talking about this to Cass on the way home from school today. She was very understanding, which in fairness to her she has been ever since I told her about liking Sam.
‘It’s really hard to balance it,’ she said. ‘I mean, you want them to know you don’t hate them, but you don’t want them to think you’re, like, obsessed with them. Especially if they don’t like you back.’
‘Exactly!’ I said. I sighed. ‘I almost wish he wasn’t so nice to everyone. I mean, then I’d know he definitely meant it when he was so nice to me. He just seems to like everyone.’
‘Well, he doesn’t spend ages talking on his own to, say, Ellie, even though he likes her,’ pointed out Cass. ‘And he hasn’t asked anyone else to go and have coffee after the Knitting Factory.’
‘That’s true,’ I said, feeling hopeful. ‘That does have to mean something, doesn’t it?’
‘It definitely means he likes hanging out with you more than most of us,’ said Cass.
‘Am I thinking too much about this?’ I said.
‘Meh, not really,’ said Cass. ‘I mean, before me and Liz got together, I spent an entire week analysing what she meant when she said “I’ll see you next Saturday.” And I felt I couldn’t even tell you or Alice about it, because you didn’t know I even liked girls at all and I didn’t know what you’d say.’
Poor Cass. Though at least she doesn’t have to hide anything now.
‘Sometimes it’s kind of exhausting doing all that analysing,’ I said. ‘But once I start I can’t really stop.’
‘You need to do something nice and distracting,’ said Cass. ‘Like painting a giant band logo on a sheet.’
‘I haven’t asked Mum and Dad if it’s okay to call over on Sunday yet,’ I said. ‘They’ve been on at me about studying again.’
‘Just tell them how sorted you are for geography now,’ suggested Cass, which is quite a good idea. If I can convince them that I’m on top of my studying, they’ll have to allow me some more freedom. I will give it a try.
Laura likes the idea of an overture dance! I must admit I was quite nervous when Dad and Mum went to rehearsal this evening. If she had ruled it out, he really would have felt miserable. And it didn’t help my nerves that Vanessa’s ad was shown twice in the space of about half an hour tonight. I didn’t think that was legal. Although straight after one of Vanessa’s airings, there was a new ad that was genuinely cool. It was for a new national dog-run scheme called Dogtown (they’re basically fencing off bits of park so dogs can run around off their leads in them), and it began with a really good hip-hop tune with a cool heavy bassline. Then, one by one, all these dogs walked out of their gardens in time to the music and joined a line of other dogs and kept sort of grooving along slowly down the street until they eventually got to the dog park.
They were real dogs, not animated ones, and I don’t know HOW they did it without it looking all cheesy and without CGI, but it looked awesome. I think Handsome Dan might have been in it, but it was hard to tell – I must admit that most pugs do look quite alike. But whoever the dogs were, it was cool and funny. We need more ads like that, not ones with Vanessa showing off!
Anyway, that ad was only a momentary distraction because we soon noticed that it was after half nine and there was no sign of Mum and Dad.
‘Do you think Dad’s being fired?’ I said.
‘They wouldn’t do that just because he had an idea!’ said Rachel, but she didn’t look totally convinced. So when the front door finally opened and we heard the two of them singing ‘Just You Wait, Henry Higgins’, Rachel and I both breathed a sigh of relief.
‘Your idea was a hit, Bex!’ said Dad, bounding into the sitting room. ‘Laura said that if I can work out something suitable, it’ll be a really strong opening to the show.’
‘And the rest of the cast like it, too,’ said Mum. She looked pretty relieved herself. ‘He’s just got to come up with the choreography.’
‘So thanks a million,’ said Dad. ‘You can be my manager when I leave the dull world of academia and take to the stage.’
‘You’re not really going to do that, are you?’ said Rachel, sounding worried.
‘You never know,’ said Dad, but he winked at Mum so I knew he was joking. Actually, I think his showbiz fever may have died down a bit when he realised he’d gone too far with his Henry Higgins mania. Now he just has to put together a routine that pleases Laura, but I bet he can. I mean, his moves in that scene I saw were genuinely pretty good, it was just the fact that he was doing them in the background while other people were singing and dancing. So if he does them on his own, I’m sure Laura will like it.
Anyway, he and Mum were in such a good mood I mentioned quite casually that I was thinking of going to Cass’s house on Sunday (I told them how well I’d been doing at geography, as Cass suggested) and they are fine about it. Hurrah! Now I just hope this whole sheet-painting thing is as easy as Cass seems to be convinced it is.
Karen has her audition
tomorrow. Vanessa decided to spend lunch today ‘coaching’ her, which basically involved showing off even more than usual.
Every so often she’d mention the public appearances she did last weekend, or how well the single has done.
‘It’s still at number twenty-five in the charts this week,’ she said. ‘I’m so pleased for the charity.’
I bet she still couldn’t tell me what charity it is.
‘There’s no singing in the ad I’m going for,’ said Karen (who can, I have to admit, actually sing quite well). ‘I wish there was.’
‘Well, not every ad offers such a good role as Kookie,’ said Vanessa smugly. ‘Now, here’s how you should enter the room. Shoulders back …’
But although she was supposedly helping Karen, she kept saying things like, ‘You shouldn’t get your hopes up too much, anything can happen at an audition.’ If Karen actually gets the ad, she’ll be furious.
Speaking of ads, I’ve still got the song from that Dogtown ad stuck in my head. But I don’t mind, because it actually is really good. Unlike another ad song I could mention. And unlike the Kookie ad, I don’t mind being reminded by the song of all those dogs marching down the street because I liked them. I think I’m going to have to download it; it really is a great song. And maybe playing it will drown out the sound of the My Fair Lady overture which is currently blasting through my house. Mum has gone round to Maria’s house and Dad is working on some ‘moves’ in the kitchen, even though there is not much room. He’s pushed the kitchen table back against the wall to create a ‘studio atmosphere’.
‘I told Laura I’d have something for her next Thursday,’ he said when I tried to get to the kitchen without him leaping in front of me. I do have faith in his ability to put together a routine, but I wish he could do it somewhere else. Between the thudding and the music it’s giving me a headache, and I’ve got to be fresh and fit for our big practice tomorrow.