Read Online Polly Plays Her Part by Anne-Marie Conway - Free Book Online Page A

Sam, pulling a face.
    Phoebe grabbed my hand, grinning. “Can you believe it?” she whispered. “I’m going to be singing a whole song by myself! How cool is that?”
    â€œIt’s really cool, Phoebs, but I knew you could do it.”
    While Mandy was busy explaining to Sam why she couldn’t have one of the biggest parts every time, I sent a quick text to Mum asking her to come and meet me at one o’clock. I didn’t tell her why, I just said I wanted to spend the afternoon with her. When all the parts were sorted, we went over the opening scene and then we sang “Give Me Your Name – Give Me Your Number”. I got to sing Marcia’s part over everyone else and it was amazing.
    â€œTry to learn the first five or six pages by next week, Polly,” said Mandy, at the end of the session. “You’ve got so many lines to learn, I want you to get on to it straight away.”
    â€œDon’t worry, Mandy, I won’t let you down. I’m so excited, I’m going to start the second I get home.”
    â€œCome over and practise at mine if you want,” said Phoebe.
    â€œOh I’d love to, but my mum’s coming to meet me straight from drama.”
    I hugged my script to my chest. I still couldn’t believe that, out of everyone in the group, Mandy thought that I was the best.
    â€œWell, I don’t even think Marcia’s such a great part, anyway,” Sam announced, just as we were packing up to go home. “And besides, there’s no way I’d want it now that I know Monty B is Tarn.”
    â€œHey!” said Monty B. “I am standing right here, you know. Even macho guys like me have feelings.”
    Sam snorted. “Do you even know what macho means?”
    â€œOf course I do. I wasn’t going to tell you but Macho is actually my middle name, if you must know.” He flexed his non-existent muscles and we all cracked up, even Sam.
    â€œAnd this from the person who does the waltz with his nan,” said Neesha. “I’d love to see what you’re like when you’re not being macho.”
    I left them arguing about how macho – or not – Monty B was, and waltzed downstairs to meet Mum. She was already there, leaning against the door, nattering to someone on her phone, but I didn’t tell her about being Marcia. Not straight away. I was going to wait for the perfect moment.
    â€œYour dad seemed to think you were going straight home when I spoke to him this morning,” she said, as we walked to the bus stop. “You haven’t had a row or anything, have you?”
    â€œNo, of course not. I just wanted to see you. I’ve hardly seen you all week.”
    The bus took ages and ages. While we were waiting, Mum tried out all her new Spanish phrases on me. “What do you think of my accent?” she said. “It’s getting so much better, isn’t it? Wait until I’ve been there for six months, I’ll be fluent. Hey, listen to this,” she giggled. “ Tenga cuidado España – aqui vengo! That means, ‘Watch out Spain – here I come!’”
    I didn’t know what to say. I hardly recognized Mum these days. She’d lost quite a bit of weight and had her hair cut and coloured and she did look better, but she was changing so fast I couldn’t keep up. I was dying to tell her about getting the part, but she was so caught up with her plans for going to Spain that I could barely get a word in edgeways.
    â€œHere, why don’t you test me?” she said, when we were sitting on the bus. She pulled her Spanish phrase book out of her bag.
    â€œI wish you’d stop going on about Spain all the time. Don’t you care about leaving me at all?”
    She shoved the book back and put her arm round me. “Oh, sweetheart, of course I care. I’m sorry. It’s just that when I spoke to your dad this morning he said you were settling in so