Centre Stage: A Novel

for the hairdresser together first thing in the morning. ‘Have fun!’ I grinned as they left.
    For once I’d been given a ten thirty call at rehearsal, which meant I had an hour to laze around the house before I had to get ready to go. Dad was working in the study and for a while I hung around in the kitchen in my pyjamas, eating toast and reading Jessica’s latest copy of Mizz . However, after a bit I got bored and went to get dressed.
    As I pulled on my jeans I thought about the play. It was hard to imagine that in a week’s time it would have started and the first night would be over. We had three more days of rehearsal at Clawson Academy and then we were moving to the theatre. On Thursday and Friday there would be technical and dress rehearsals and then on Saturday it was the first night. Cold shivers ran down my spine. Just five days until I had to be perfect — not just getting by with only a few mistakes like I was at the moment. Absolutely spot-on, every-step-right perfect.
    *
    At ten o’clock, Mum arrived back to take me to rehearsal. ‘So what does Tom’s hair look like?’ I asked as we drove into town.
    ‘Better,’ she replied. ‘You don’t notice the colour quite so much now it’s short.’
    ‘How short is it?’ I asked curiously.
    ‘Really very short, although he’s had it left slightly long on top so he can spike it up or something for gigs and going out.’ She smiled at me. ‘Poor Tom. He was moaning about having to have his hair cut off all the way to school. He says he’s going to grow it again.’ She shook her head. ‘Anyway, how are you feeling, love? I guess it’s pretty nerve-racking being so close to opening night.’
    I nodded.
    Mum smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be fine.’
    By mid-morning I was seriously doubting it. The rehearsal was fraught. Claire had decided we were going to have our first proper run-through, which meant going through the play from beginning to end instead of just working on one scene over and over again. It went badly, lots of people forgot their lines and Claire got increasingly tense.
    ‘For goodness sake, guys, there are just five days until we open!’ she shouted as Lauren, the deputy stage manager, had to prompt us for about the tenth time in the fifth scene. ‘This isn’t good enough!’
    Everyone looked uncomfortable.
    ‘Take five!’ Claire snapped. ‘And look through your lines.’
    As Claire rattled off a list of instructions to Velda and Lauren, people sat down and silently got out their scripts. The usual jokey atmosphere had been replaced by an air of tension. I sat down next to Justine. She hadn’t had much to do so far that day because Claire had decided that my team would act the first half and Justine’s team would act the second half. I’d groaned when I heard because it meant that I would have to do the ballet solo. I was much better at it now but I still couldn’t say I looked forward to it. I always went wrong at least once.
    ‘It’s not going well, is it?’ Justine said to me in a low voice.
    I shook my head. ‘Claire’s really stressed.’
    ‘She’s not the only one,’ Justine said, nodding to where the adult actors were sitting. Some of them were walking up and down silently saying their lines, others were running their hands through their hair.
    When Velda called us back on to the stage, all I could think about was the ballet solo.
    Get it right , I thought as I went to stand ready to come on for the scene in Mr Tumnus’s house. Just get it right .
    I was thinking so hard about the dance that I almost forgot my lines. At one point my mind seemed to go completely empty. What did I say next? Luckily the words came back to me just in time. I gasped them out. But it shook me and, after that, I gabbled and spoke too quickly.
    Oh no, I was really messing things up. I saw Claire starting to frown.
    Almost before I knew it, it was the solo. Determined to get it right, I tried too hard on the first spin and overbalanced. I stumbled my way through the rest of it. Claire’s face grew darker by the second. She didn’t stop me, though, and we carried on to the end of the first half.
    I wasn’t the only one to mess up; more lines were forgotten and entrances missed. By the time we had finished the run-through, Claire’s head was in her hands.
    ‘You know, I feel like walking out of here right now,’ she told us as we all gathered nervously for the notes she was going to give us on our