Centre Stage: A Novel

tonight!’
    The time between the dress rehearsal and the evening performance raced past. Costumes were whisked off us for cleaning and ironing, and the stage was quickly reset. As the stage crew raced around, all dressed in black clothes, the cast wandered about in dressing gowns, eating tea and redoing their make-up. Good luck cards and bouquets of flowers started being delivered from stage door. I was astonished when one of the bouquets was for me.
    I read the card tied to the pink, purple and blue flowers: To Sophie, our shining star. Remember we’ll always love you. Hugs and kisses, Mum, Dad, Jessica and Tom.
    I had to blink back my tears.
    ‘They’re gorgeous,’ Colette said, coming over. ‘Can we put them in our dressing room?’
    ‘Of course,’ I said, and we began to hunt around for a vase. In the end we found an old pint glass and filled it up with water.
    ‘Uh-oh, looks like we need another one,’ Colette said as Fred, the stage doorkeeper, came down with another bunch of flowers — pink carnations this time — and presented them to me.
    ‘They’re for me as well!’ I gasped.
    Fred smiled. ‘Looks like you’re popular.’
    To Sophie , I read. We’ll be cheering you on. Love from Ally, Harriet and Eve . I smiled. I had the best family and friends in the world!
    Just then the tannoy chirped and Lauren’s voice came crackling out, sounding like an announcer at an airport. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this is your half hour call. Half an hour please!’
    Half an hour. Excitement whooshed through me. This time it was for real!
    The TV monitor beside the tannoy flickered and came on. The picture on the screen showed the stage and through the speakers we could hear the sound of people beginning to arrive into the auditorium.
    ‘We should get dressed,’ Colette said quickly. ‘Come on!’
    The half hour flew by and almost before I knew it, Lauren was calling for us to go up to the stage. We hurried up the dark stairs. From the auditorium came the sound of people talking, sweet papers rustling and the orchestra warming up. A trumpet tooted and then a flute trilled. In the wings, at the side of the stage, the stage crew were waiting. It was really dark and, standing with the others, my heart was pounding so fast it felt as if it was going to jump out of my chest.
    ‘Have you heard the news?’ Mark said, coming up to Colette and me. ‘There’re three journalists from national newspapers in tonight.’
    I so didn’t need to know that.
    ‘Really?’ Colette gasped.
    ‘And at least two casting agents.’
    ‘Ssh!’ Velda hissed. ‘Go on into your starting position.’
    Mark hurried away to the other side of stage.
    ‘Break a leg!’ Colette whispered to me as there was a sudden hush and then the orchestra burst into the overture.
    ‘You too,’ I squeaked like a strangled mouse. Colette had told me you never said good luck in a theatre, instead you tell someone to break a leg. It’s something weird to do with not tempting fate.
    We fell silent. Every second seemed to take an hour.
    I had to keep reminding myself to breathe. Every line from the play seemed to have disappeared from my head. I couldn’t do this. I really couldn’t.
    The music changed. The curtains opened and bam! The show started with the first dance. I watched, entranced, as the dancers on stage performed perfectly. And then suddenly, ‘Sophie, you’re on!’ Velda hissed.
    Almost before I knew it, I was running on to the stage and into a blaze of light.
    That afternoon, I’d thought that things couldn’t get any better than the dress rehearsal. OK, how wrong could I be? Performing in front of a packed auditorium was a totally different experience. It was one hundred and fifty per cent — sorry, Harriet — fantastic!
    As the curtain fell on the final song the audience erupted with claps and cheers. I stood on stage absolutely stunned. It was over. We’d done it. I hadn’t messed up!
    ‘Sophie! Come on!’
    Colette grabbed my hand and dragged me into line just as the curtain was sweeping up. The lights hit me and so did the noise. I’d never heard so much clapping.
    We all bowed. As we straightened up, I caught sight of Ally and Harriet three rows back. They were standing up cheering. But it wasn’t just them. There was Eve, and Mum, Dad, Jess and Tom. And Mr Chase and Emily, Mr and Mrs Swannick and Ally’s twin brothers, our next-door neighbours, people from my class in school. In fact, almost everyone I knew