Star Quality

First published in Great Britain by

HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2018

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd,

HarperCollins Publishers

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London SE1 9GF

The HarperCollins website address is:

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Text copyright © Jean Ure 2018

All rights reserved.

Cover design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2018

Jean Ure asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of the work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008164539

Ebook Edition © 2018 ISBN: 9780008174842

Version: 2017-10-18

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

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About the Publisher

“Honestly,” squealed Caitlyn, “I nearly died!”

“I know, I know!” That was Roz, also screaming. “I just wanted to bury myself under the floorboards!”

“Me, too!” Alex rolled her eyes, rather wildly. “I thought I was going to pass out on the spot!”

“That moment when she walked in …”

“Omigod!”

Now they were all squealing. A woman walking past gave us a very odd look. I wasn’t surprised! They sounded like a load of fingernails scraping down a blackboard. All high-pitched and shrill. Quite painful, really. And all because – shock, horror! – Madam had suddenly appeared in the middle of class!

I gave a little squeak, just to show that I was sympathetic. I didn’t want to seem stand-offish; they were, after all, my friends. Caitlyn was actually my best friend. We’d spent most of the day together, taking our final audition for the City Ballet School – including the class that Madam had walked in on.

I expect most people would have thought it was a bit stressful. Even the class itself, with or without Madam’s laser-like presence. Just knowing all the time that you were being assessed, like “Is she musical enough? Is she supple enough? Has she got what it takes?” Though to be honest, it wasn’t so very different from what we were used to. The four of us had been taking special classes at the school every Saturday morning for the past year. Extension classes they called them, for people who were hoping to join the school as full-time students. We’d already got through the preliminary auditions so we’d known what to expect. Class the same as usual; just a bit more demanding. More stretches and jumps, more complicated series of steps. It was what we’d been working towards. Miss Jackson, who’d taken us on Saturday mornings, had prepared us well. Once we’d started and I’d got over any jitters I might have had, I’d actually enjoyed myself. I think it was because it was a challenge. I do like to be challenged! I sometimes get bored otherwise and find it difficult to concentrate.

Following on from class we’d had a series of intelligence tests. I don’t think any of us had been specially bothered about those. After all, it’s not like they expect you to be a genius or anything. Just so long as you have some kind of a brain. And imagination. It’s good to have imagination. Better really, if you ask me, than being able to do square roots and equations and stuff. (I probably just say that because I personally can’t do them. But I have got imagination!)

After the intelligence tests we’d all had to have a medical exam, to check our bones were OK. Nothing really to worry about cos surely by now if there was anything wrong they’d have found out? Well, you’d think so, considering they’d already been teaching us for a year, though it’s true that sometimes odd things can be discovered and people are told they’re not physically right for a dancing career. Still, I’m what Dad calls “an incurable optimist”. I don’t believe in torturing myself by imagining all the things that could go wrong. Even the dreaded interview at the end with Miss Hickman, the Head of Dance Studies, hadn’t really held any fears. I’d felt sure I’d think of something to say. I usually do!

It was true, on the other hand, that I had a bit of an unfair advantage. When you come from a ballet family – when your mum and dad, your brother, your sister, are all dancers – you tend to kind of take things for granted. Ballet just becomes an accepted part of your life, no more peculiar than – well! Eating and drinking. Going to bed. Getting up. It’s just something you do.

It wasn’t like that for the others, especially not for Caitlyn. It had been a real struggle for her. Alex and Roz hadn’t come from ballet families, either, so I probably should try to be more understanding. Madam was quite a frightening sort of person and none of us had expected her to suddenly come teetering in, on her high heels, in the middle of class. She was the Director after all! Dame Catherine Le Brocq, MBE. (For Services to Dance.) She had been one of the founders of City Ballet. Generations of dancers had lived their lives in terror of her, going right back to when Mum was there. It was hard to picture Mum ever being terrified of anyone, but she had once confessed to me that “Madam used to turn us all to jelly.” Even I had felt a slight twinge when the door had swung open and I’d seen her standing there, tiny as a sparrow with these diamond-sharp eyes shooting laser beams in all directions. I don’t think I faltered cos Mum had trained me well, but it was a bit of a shock. I couldn’t really blame the others for being petrified.

“I thought it was just going to be an ordinary class!” wailed Caitlyn.

“I know!” squealed Roz. “So did I!”

“Actually,” I said, “it was just an ordinary class.”

They all turned, reproachfully, to look at me.

“How can you say that?” cried Alex.

“I mean, apart from Madam it was ordinary. If she hadn’t suddenly appeared—”

“But she did suddenly appear!”

“Yes, but she didn’t stay for very long.”

“Long enough,” moaned Roz.

“I just got totally lost.” Caitlyn’s eyes had gone all big at the memory of it. “If I hadn’t been able to follow Maddy, I’d never have got through it! I knew she’d get it right cos she always does.”

She said it without any show of envy. Like it was just a simple fact: Maddy always gets things right. Maybe I did, but that was only cos I’d been at it so long. Right from when I was about three years old. It would be a bit shameful if I didn’t get things right.

“Weren’t you scared at all?” said Alex.

I said, “Well, I was, but only just for a minute and then I kind of forgot about her.”

“All right for some,” grumbled Roz. “You probably spent half your time as a baby sitting on her lap.”

I giggled. The thought of me, or anyone else, sitting on Madam’s lap was quite funny. Sean – who’s my brother and a lead dancer with the Company – once said that Madam was more likely to bite a baby’s head off than cuddle it: “She is a scary, scary woman.”

And Sean is one of her favourites! She rules the Company with a rod of iron, but Sean has always known how to get round her.

We all turned down The Cut towards Waterloo Station to catch our different trains home. Some people had come to the audition accompanied by their mums, but they were mostly the ones who’d had long journeys to make. The four of us were local and used to travelling in on Tubes and trains. Caitlyn and I actually lived quite near each other and even went to the same school.

“As a matter of interest,” said Alex, “what did you say in your interview? When they asked you, ‘Why do you want to dance?’”

“I just told them the truth,” said Caitlyn. “I said cos it’s what I’ve always dreamt of doing.”

“Even though you didn’t start till so late?”

Unlike the rest of us, who’d mostly had our first ballet lessons at five or six, Caitlyn hadn’t been able to start until she was eleven. It wasn’t because she hadn’t wanted to. She’d been desperate!

“Not everybody,” I reminded Alex, “can afford to pay for dancing lessons.” Specially not a single mum struggling to make ends meet, like Caitlyn’s mum.

“Oh. Right! I was forgetting.” Alex nodded, sympathetically. “They’ll have given you a plus for that.”

“Do you really think so?” Caitlyn looked at her, anxiously. “I thought they might hold it against me.”

“No, they’ll say it shows single-mindedness and determination and means you really know what you want.”

“So what did you say?” said Roz.

“Me?” Alex pulled a face. “I just said I loved to dance. I couldn’t think of anything clever! What about you?”

“Don’t ask!” Roz gave another squeal. “It was awful – I just burbled on completely mindlessly … all about how I’d been taken to see Swan Lake as a child and how I’d fallen in love with it and wanted to be able to spin round and round like Odile and her thirty-two fouettés!”

“You mean you actually counted them?”

“No, it was the person sitting behind me … I didn’t even know that’s what they were! I went straight back home and tried to do some in my bedroom.”

Alex said, “Wow. How many did you manage?”

“I didn’t manage any! I bashed into the wardrobe and nearly knocked my knee cap off. I’m so ashamed,” moaned Roz. “Why did I have to go and tell them something so stupid?”

“It’s not stupid,” said Caitlyn. “I expect they quite enjoyed hearing about it.”

“A lot more fun than just saying you loved to dance,” agreed Alex. She tapped her forehead. “Shows imagination.”

“What about Maddy?” They all turned, in my direction. “What did you say?”

“Oh.” I shrugged. “I just said I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. So Miss Hickman asked me if I’d ever actually tried imagining, and I said no, I wouldn’t dare.”

They gaped at me. “You wouldn’t dare?” said Roz.

“Cos of Mum and what she’d have to say. It was a joke; it was a joke!”

“You are so brave,” said Caitlyn.

I hadn’t felt particularly brave. The words had just come tumbling out of me, as words do.

“Did anyone laugh?” said Alex.

“Um … well … not exactly laugh. Miss Hickman sort of twitched her lips.”

“Like she found it funny?”

“Well … I suppose.”

I felt suddenly doubtful. Miss Hickman is Head of Dance Studies. According to Sean, she is not noted for her sense of humour. Maybe she hadn’t found it funny? Maybe I shouldn’t have said it? Mum is always accusing me of not thinking before I speak.

“Oh, well,” said Roz. “At least it’s over. Now we just have to wait.”

We all promised to keep in touch and let one another know the minute we heard anything, then Alex and Roz peeled off to catch their trains while me and Caitlyn headed for the Underground.

“How long do you think it’ll be?” said Caitlyn.

“Before we hear? About a week, according to Mum.”

“I wish they’d tell us on the spot! A week’s like for ever. Why does it take them so long?”

“I suppose they have to go and … I don’t know!” I waved a hand. “Discuss things.”

“What sort of things?” Caitlyn’s face had gone all puckered. “What would they need to discuss?”

“Well, like, maybe if there was someone they weren’t quite sure of? Or if they can only take, say, ten people and have to decide which ones they’re going to turn down?” As soon as I’d said it, I wished I hadn’t. Now I’d gone and terrified her. “There isn’t any point worrying,” I said. “We’ve done our best.”

I nearly added that in any case I felt sure they wouldn’t turn down any of Mum’s students. Mum was one of their own! Plus she has this reputation as one of the very best teachers in the country and only ever enters students she has complete faith in. But suppose just for once they actually did turn someone down? After I’d practically given Caitlyn my word that she could be certain of a place?

“Let’s face it,” I said, “we wouldn’t have been accepted for special classes if they didn’t think we were promising.”

“But you just said … we can’t all get in! You will, cos—”

“Cos what?” I said. “Cos of who my family is?”

“No! Cos you’re a good dancer and you’ve been doing it for ever.”

“You’re a good dancer,” I said. “Mum wouldn’t have given you a scholarship if she didn’t think you had what it takes.”

“But I still haven’t properly caught up!” She meant because of starting so late. “You’re all so far ahead of me!”

It was true that Caitlyn didn’t have the strongest technique, which perhaps was a bit of a worry. But they always said it wasn’t necessarily technique they were looking for so much as what Mum calls potential, like having the right sort of body and being able to move naturally to the music.

“If I don’t get in –” Caitlyn gave a deep, quivering sigh – “I shall feel like I’ve let your mum down. And you.”

I might have added, “And Sean,” but it would only have embarrassed her. Like lots of other ballet fans she had this massive crush on him. Even now she couldn’t say his name without blushing. But he was the one, in the end, who had persuaded Mum to give Caitlyn a chance. I’d been nagging at her for ages without getting anywhere. It wasn’t till Sean had seen what Caitlyn could do that he had stepped in and worked his magic.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “You’ll get in; I’m sure you will!”

Oh, I did hope so! It would be too terrible if she didn’t make it. After all those long years when becoming a dancer – even just having ballet lessons – had been nothing but a dream. If anyone deserved a chance, it was Caitlyn.

When I got home I found that Jen was there. She’d brought James round to show him off to Mum. James is my nephew. Imagine me, an auntie! I am not much into babies as a rule, but James is really quite sweet. Even Mum adores him, though she’d been so cross when Jen had announced she was going to give up her career to stay at home and be a mum. It wasn’t what you were supposed to do! It certainly wasn’t what Mum had done. It was only after having me that she’d finally given up performing, but she’d been in her forties by then so she’d probably have had to retire anyway. She wasn’t the sort to be happy playing old lady parts. Fairy godmothers and the like. I won’t be, either! I’ll probably become a teacher, like Mum. I had, after all, been Caitlyn’s teacher for the first few months, until Sean had become involved and helped change her daydream into reality. Even Mum, who is so horribly critical, had been forced to admit I’d done a good job. If Caitlyn was offered a place at CBS, I could pat myself on the back cos it would be partly thanks to me! But please, please, please, I thought, let her be accepted!

Jen and Mum were both eager to hear how the audition had gone. I said that it had gone OK, in spite of Madam suddenly bursting in on us.

“Ooh, scary!” said Jen.

“I know,” I said. “It terrified the life out of some people.”

“Not you, I’ll bet!”

I said, “No, I hardly noticed.” And then, in case maybe that sounded a bit like boasting: “Maybe just at first … when she first came in.”

I went up on my toes, being Madam in her high heels, surveying the room with narrowed eyes.

“Very amusing,” said Mum. “Just remember, however, that this is the woman who holds your fate in her hands.”

“All I’m saying –” I sank back down – “is I didn’t let myself be scared. Cos I thought what you would say … CONCENTRATE!”

“Quite right,” said Mum. “I’m glad my words seem to have sunk in.”

Jen shook her head. “Always so confident! I remember my audition … I was a nervous wreck for days before. And afterwards, waiting to hear. Waiting to hear was almost the worst part. I don’t think I had a single fingernail left by the time we got the letter!”

“What about Sean?” I said. I must have been about four years old when he’d had his audition. Too young to really remember very much. “Was he a nervous wreck?”

“You have to be joking!” said Jen. “When have you ever known Sean be a nervous wreck about anything? I’ve always envied you two … You sail through life, the pair of you, full steam ahead, not a worry in the world.”

“Yes, sometimes a bit too sure of themselves,” agreed Mum. “A touch of humility now and again might not come amiss.”

She nodded rather pointedly in my direction. I felt quite indignant. Why pick on me? I wasn’t the one people went all gooey over. I wasn’t one of Madam’s favourites!

“I have loads of humility,” I said.

“You think?” said Jen. She laughed, and so did Mum.

“You and Sean both!” said Mum.

They were being totally unfair. Mum is the first to say you have to have faith in your abilities. I know what my good points are, but I know what my bad ones are, too. I would be the first to admit I am not as lyrical as, for instance, Caitlyn. I don’t think Sean is that lyrical, either. I once saw him in Sylphides, all dreamy and romantic in the moonlight. Definitely not him! Perhaps me and Sean were a bit alike. I savoured the thought, testing it to see how I felt. I decided that I liked it! When I was little, Sean was one of my heroes, especially when he got into the Company, and then, later on, when he was promoted to soloist and everyone had heard of him. I enjoyed having a brother that all my friends had secret crushes on. Well, or not so secret, in Caitlyn’s case! I wondered if anyone would ever have a crush on me when I got into the Company. If I got into the Company. If, if, if, touch wood!

It was just that I couldn’t imagine not getting in. Mum, Dad, Jen – they had all been with City Ballet. Sean was one of their stars. How could I not follow in their footsteps? The Company was almost like a second family!

But Caitlyn was almost like family, too. We both had to get in! Not just me. Please, please, please, I thought once more. Please let Caitlyn be accepted!

I am never quite sure that I believe in God, but on the other hand I don’t think it hurts to say the occasional prayer. Just in case there is someone there and they happen to be listening. So long as it’s not for something silly, or selfish. Like one time when I prayed I would get through a maths test OK, even though I hadn’t bothered to do any revision. I came next to bottom, but I didn’t hold it against God as I don’t believe that is what prayer is really supposed to be for. It is supposed (in my opinion) to be for other people. In this case, for Caitlyn.

Mentally I closed my eyes and put my hands together. God, I thought, if you’re listening, please do the right thing!

It was over a week, now, and we still hadn’t heard. Every morning as I arrived at school, Caitlyn would greet me with a heart-rending wail: “It hasn’t come yet! Has yours?” She meant, of course, the letter. The one we were all waiting for.

“Surely,” I said to Mum, “we should have heard by now?”

“You’ll hear,” said Mum. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried for me,” I said. And then, very quickly, before I could be accused of being overconfident, I said, “Well, I suppose perhaps I am just a little bit. Cos that’s only natural, isn’t it? Being a little bit worried. Anyone would be! Even Sean. I mean—”

“Maddy, stop babbling,” said Mum. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s Caitlyn,” I said. “I’m worried for Caitlyn! Mum, she will be OK, won’t she? She will get in?”

“I’d certainly like to think so,” said Mum. “I wouldn’t have let her take the audition if I didn’t believe she stood a fair chance. But even if she doesn’t make it this time round, it’s not the end of the world. She can always try again next year, when she’s a bit more sure of herself.”

I stared at Mum, in disbelief. “You don’t think she’s going to make it?”

“I didn’t say that! She may very well do so. But she desperately needs to build up her confidence. How did she take it when Madam walked in? Did it throw her?”

“It threw everybody,” I said. “Even me, a little bit.”

It hadn’t really thrown me, but I didn’t feel it was my place to go telling tales. If Caitlyn had wanted Mum to know she’d got in a hopeless muddle and lost her way, she’d have told her herself. All she’d said, when we’d arrived for our Friday-evening class with Mum, and Mum had asked her how things had gone, was, “All right. I think.” And then, a bit cheekily, she’d added, “Nowhere near as frightening as when I took my audition with you!”

I’d thought that was quite brave of her. Making a joke with Mum! Far braver than me making a joke with Miss Hickman. I also thought that it might actually have been true, since in some ways Mum is even more scary than Madam. But would Caitlyn still manage to be brave if she didn’t get in along with the rest of us? If me, and Alex, and Roz, all made it and she didn’t?

Mum must have guessed what I was thinking.

“Even if Caitlyn doesn’t have your confidence,” she said, “she’s not going to give up that easily. She’s had to fight for far too long and far too hard to fall at the first hurdle.”

“But, Mum,” I cried, “she’d be so upset!”

“She would,” agreed Mum. “Certainly to begin with. But if you want to get anywhere in life you have to be prepared to pick yourself up and carry on. I think you’ll find Caitlyn has more backbone than you imagine.”

All the same, I thought, it would be miserable going off to ballet school on my own. Perhaps my prayers were just a little bit for me as well as for Caitlyn, because how would I be able to enjoy myself, knowing how she would be feeling? And how would I ever be able to break it to her that I had got in when she hadn’t?

“It’s good that you’re loyal,” said Mum, “but give Caitlyn some credit … In spite of that meek exterior, she’s no pushover!”

I knew Mum was right. Caitlyn had been struggling to teach herself ballet for a whole year before I’d discovered what she was up to and had started to help her. Every day without fail she had practised in her bedroom, and later on in the gym before school, when no one else was around, copying steps out of some of the many ballet books she had.