Read Online 3: Chocolate Box Girls: Summer's Dream by Cathy Cassidy - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cathy Cassidy
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timeless, magical, where dance is the only thing that matters.
I look towards the window. A plane cuts through the cloudless sky, leaving a soft, white surf-like trail in its wake. Are Mum and Paddy on that plane? I have no way of knowing.
All morning my mobile has been buzzing with messagesfrom Mum. Almost at Heathrow, she texted while I was on the bus to town: Checked in, all well, as I was getting changed; Through security, as I bent to reset the CD; At the departure gate, as I stopped to re-dip my shoes in the rosin box; and, finally, for the last twenty minutes, silence.
Mum and Paddy will be in the air right now, heading for Peru, maybe on the plane I glimpsed, or on another plane like it, far away. I am happy for them, so pleased they are getting the honeymoon they deserve … but I can’t help feeling anxious too.
I can’t remember being away from Mum for more than a couple of nights before, on sleepovers or rare, long-ago trips to London to see Dad, or that weekend Mum spent in Glasgow when she was first seeing Paddy. There was a school trip to Wales the year Dad left, an outward-bound type of thing with abseiling and hillwalking, but it seemed wrong to go when Mum was so cut up about the split, when money was short and our family seemed to be falling to pieces. Skye and I binned our application forms without even showing Mum.
I know I’m grown-up enough to manage for a few weeks. It is silly to feel uneasy about it all – we can manage fine,and Grandma Kate is kind and sensible and very organized. It’s not like we have been left to fend for ourselves. So I have no idea why worry curdles in my belly like sour milk.
The studio door swings open and Jodie appears, dressed for practice. She seems surprised to see me.
‘You’re early,’ she grins. ‘I thought I’d be the first here today!’
I decide not to mention I have been here for two hours already. I’ve been practising more than usual over the last few weeks, but I don’t want to appear too keen, too desperate, too weird.
‘Won’t it be amazing if we get through those auditions?’ Jodie says. ‘Come September, we could be at ballet school full-time. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m going to practise every day until the audition.’
‘Me too,’ I say. ‘I’d do anything to get a place, anything at all.’
Jodie frowns. ‘Me too,’ she says. ‘But it’s destiny, right? If we’re meant to get a place, we will. If not … well, it just isn’t meant to happen.’
Anger flares inside me. Fate and destiny weren’t exactly on my side last time, were they? Surely Jodie isn’t willing toleave something as important as this down to fate. Is it enough to dance your best and hope that the panel is feeling kind enough to give you a chance? I don’t think so. I think you have to do everything possible to make sure you shine.
‘It is meant to happen, though,’ I frown. ‘It has to. We’ve wanted this since we were kids, Jodie. If we try hard enough, we’ll get through! We have to!’
She shrugs and smiles and starts running through her warm-up exercises, but I get the feeling Jodie thinks I may be trying a little too hard.
She doesn’t know the half of it.
At teatime, Jamie Finch arrives at Tanglewood wearing a vintage army jacket and a pair of red Converse, his dark hair a tangle of unruly waves, an outsize rucksack on his back. Nikki drove up to London to collect him, then got ambushed by one of the production team the minute she returned, leaving her son adrift.
He wanders into the kitchen, where we have fruit smoothies and angel-wing meringues waiting. ‘Good to meet you, Jamie,’ Grandma Kate says. ‘Welcome to the madhouse!’
It probably does look a little crazy. Coco is sitting on the draining board playing her violin, which is why Skye is wearing pink fluffy earmuffs as she irons some of her vintage dress collection to take down to Jess the wardrobe manager later. Cherry is curled up in the armchair by the
I look towards the window. A plane cuts through the cloudless sky, leaving a soft, white surf-like trail in its wake. Are Mum and Paddy on that plane? I have no way of knowing.
All morning my mobile has been buzzing with messagesfrom Mum. Almost at Heathrow, she texted while I was on the bus to town: Checked in, all well, as I was getting changed; Through security, as I bent to reset the CD; At the departure gate, as I stopped to re-dip my shoes in the rosin box; and, finally, for the last twenty minutes, silence.
Mum and Paddy will be in the air right now, heading for Peru, maybe on the plane I glimpsed, or on another plane like it, far away. I am happy for them, so pleased they are getting the honeymoon they deserve … but I can’t help feeling anxious too.
I can’t remember being away from Mum for more than a couple of nights before, on sleepovers or rare, long-ago trips to London to see Dad, or that weekend Mum spent in Glasgow when she was first seeing Paddy. There was a school trip to Wales the year Dad left, an outward-bound type of thing with abseiling and hillwalking, but it seemed wrong to go when Mum was so cut up about the split, when money was short and our family seemed to be falling to pieces. Skye and I binned our application forms without even showing Mum.
I know I’m grown-up enough to manage for a few weeks. It is silly to feel uneasy about it all – we can manage fine,and Grandma Kate is kind and sensible and very organized. It’s not like we have been left to fend for ourselves. So I have no idea why worry curdles in my belly like sour milk.
The studio door swings open and Jodie appears, dressed for practice. She seems surprised to see me.
‘You’re early,’ she grins. ‘I thought I’d be the first here today!’
I decide not to mention I have been here for two hours already. I’ve been practising more than usual over the last few weeks, but I don’t want to appear too keen, too desperate, too weird.
‘Won’t it be amazing if we get through those auditions?’ Jodie says. ‘Come September, we could be at ballet school full-time. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m going to practise every day until the audition.’
‘Me too,’ I say. ‘I’d do anything to get a place, anything at all.’
Jodie frowns. ‘Me too,’ she says. ‘But it’s destiny, right? If we’re meant to get a place, we will. If not … well, it just isn’t meant to happen.’
Anger flares inside me. Fate and destiny weren’t exactly on my side last time, were they? Surely Jodie isn’t willing toleave something as important as this down to fate. Is it enough to dance your best and hope that the panel is feeling kind enough to give you a chance? I don’t think so. I think you have to do everything possible to make sure you shine.
‘It is meant to happen, though,’ I frown. ‘It has to. We’ve wanted this since we were kids, Jodie. If we try hard enough, we’ll get through! We have to!’
She shrugs and smiles and starts running through her warm-up exercises, but I get the feeling Jodie thinks I may be trying a little too hard.
She doesn’t know the half of it.
At teatime, Jamie Finch arrives at Tanglewood wearing a vintage army jacket and a pair of red Converse, his dark hair a tangle of unruly waves, an outsize rucksack on his back. Nikki drove up to London to collect him, then got ambushed by one of the production team the minute she returned, leaving her son adrift.
He wanders into the kitchen, where we have fruit smoothies and angel-wing meringues waiting. ‘Good to meet you, Jamie,’ Grandma Kate says. ‘Welcome to the madhouse!’
It probably does look a little crazy. Coco is sitting on the draining board playing her violin, which is why Skye is wearing pink fluffy earmuffs as she irons some of her vintage dress collection to take down to Jess the wardrobe manager later. Cherry is curled up in the armchair by the
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