Pop Princess Read online

  ‘OK good, Becca, but we just want to hear a bit more,’ she called. ‘Can you do the next verse?’

  ‘Um, I’m afraid I only learned the first one,’ I said as Jade sniggered to one of her mates behind the teachers. ‘I could do some of “Summer Living” . . . I mean “Loving”.’

  ‘Right, off you go,’ said Miss Segal with a nod at the pianist.

  This time I forgot the words after the opening bar. It was like my mind went blank. Everyone was staring. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. Miss Segal was looking at me with concern, as though willing me to go on, but I couldn’t. The words had gone. My head was empty.

  ‘OK, you can get down,’ she said. ‘Next.’

  Next up was Dee Hackett, and after her, Susie Richards, but I didn’t really take in their performances. I felt mortified. This wasn’t anything close to my fantasy. This was my worst nightmare. Of course I wasn’t surprised when I wasn’t called back at the end with the final three.

  I stumbled out into the corridor, made a dash for the door and ran home.

  I read on the notice board the next day that Jade had got the part.

  ‘BECCA, CAN you come down please?’ Mum called up the stairs.

  Should I pretend to be asleep? I thought as I eyed my duvet. Say I fancied an early night? I looked at my watch. It said eight-thirty. They wouldn’t buy it. I took a deep breath and prepared myself to face the inevitable. It wasn’t long now until the end of term, and Mum and Dad had just returned from Parents’ Evening at our school.

  Mum and Dad were waiting for me in the dining room with sheets of paper spread in front of them. Oh no, I thought, they’ve taken notes! Parents’ evenings can be mad, with so many people milling around, so many teachers to see. I was hoping that they’d have got confused and not remembered it all or got mixed up about who said what. But no, they’d taken notes.

  I tried a smile as I sat down opposite them at the table, but neither of them smiled back. It didn’t bode well, so I decided to try Tactic Number Two: break the ice with a joke.

  ‘So, you must have felt very proud when they all said I’m the school’s star pupil. Top in maths, top in English, astounding at science . . . er, probably going to be prime minister.’

  They didn’t laugh.

  ‘So,’ Mum began, ‘I think we need to talk, Becca.’

  I decided to try Tactic Number Three: mental retreat and admit to nothing.

  ‘Uh,’ I said.

  Dad looked encouragingly at me. ‘It’s OK, Becca, it wasn’t all bad.’

  ‘So what did they say?’

  Mum shook her head. ‘Well, it’s interesting. They all seemed to say the same thing in different ways.’ She looked at her notes. ‘Mr Walker said, “lacks focus and is a bit of a dreamer”. Mrs Jeffries said, “needs to develop staying power if she is to get anything but average”. Mr Riley said that you need to focus as you could be good at a lot of things, but at the moment, you’re more a jack of all trades, master of none. Mr Nash said you have a good brain and could be a high achiever if only you’d concentrate more.’ She looked up. ‘You see what I mean.’

  I sat on my hands and looked at the carpet. ‘Er . . .’

  ‘Miss Segal said the same thing. “Has great potential but unless she knuckles down to some hard work, it’s all going to drift by her.”’

  There wasn’t anything I could say in my defence as I knew I hadn’t been working as hard as I could. But, I mean, I’m only fourteen and it’s ages before we have to do any important exams.

  ‘Oh,’ said Dad as he read one of the sheets of paper, ‘and Miss Segal also said you could have been in the show at the end of term, in the chorus, but you didn’t turn up for rehearsals. What was that all about? You told us you didn’t get a part.’

  ‘I didn’t. Not the one I wanted anyway. I went for the part of Sandra Dee.’

  I didn’t want to tell them how awful it had been. I knew I could have been in the chorus with Lia, but I felt I couldn’t join in and pretend I didn’t care that I hadn’t got the lead role. I couldn’t handle seeing Jade swanning in every day, star of the show, and gloating because I was at the back in the chorus line.

  I’d decided to ignore the whole thing and pretend that it hadn’t happened. It hadn’t been easy, though, as everywhere I went at school, it was Grease mania. And all my mates were up to their eyes in it. Cat and Lia were always busy rehearsing. Squidge insisted on videoing behind-the-scenes so that he had a story to tell about the production. And Mac – Mac who I was supposed to be going out with – didn’t have a moment to spare now that he was painting scenery. I felt like I’d spent most of the term alone.

  ‘Well, young lady . . .’ Mum began.

  I winced. I always knew I was going to get a lecture when she called me that. ‘I think you need to change your attitude. Get down to some serious study.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Dad. ‘Show them what you can do, Rebecca. You’re a smart girl. Next term we want to see some good grades on your report and none of this dreamer nonsense.’

  I had to bite my lip. Mum was always berating him for being a dreamer and I almost said, ‘A dreamer like you then, Dad?’ But I knew that it wouldn’t have gone down very well and I didn’t want to spark off an argument between them. Lately rows had been getting more and more frequent, always about the same thing. And secretly I was starting to get worried that they might split up like Mac’s parents did.

  When we had lived in Bristol about four years before, my dad had a proper job in advertising, then he was made redundant. Instead of getting another job, we moved down here where it’s cheaper to live and his plan was to fulfil his life-long dream of writing a novel. His only sources of income were his savings and an allotment where he grows organic vegetables to supply to Cat’s dad’s shop. But his savings were running out and that was mainly what the arguing was about. Mum had become the main breadwinner, teaching English to foreign students in Plymouth and Dad spent his days tapping away at his computer. But so far, he hadn’t had any success. He had a file of rejects from agents and publishers and Mum kept telling him he had to go out and get a ‘proper’ job. Dad kept saying that there weren’t any jobs down here in advertising and anyway he wasn’t ready to give up on being a writer yet. That’s when Mum would call him a dreamer. I felt sorry for him in a way, as I knew his writing meant a lot to him.

  ‘Becca, are you listening?’ asked Mum.

  I nodded. ‘Yes, work harder. I will. I promise.’

  I went straight upstairs to commiserate with Cat on the phone.

  ‘They don’t understand what it’s like,’ I said.

  ‘I know,’ said Cat. ‘I mean, my report was OK except for maths. I hate maths and Mr Riley said I didn’t work hard enough at it. I would if it was any fun and he’d stop picking on me, but anyway, Dad has been going on and on about it and hasn’t said anything about all the good stuff.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘My mum and dad didn’t say anything about any of the good stuff either.’ I didn’t tell Cat that I didn’t think there had been any good stuff.

  ‘It’s rotten, isn’t it?’ said Cat.

  ‘Yeah, rotten. Have you spoken to Lia?’

  ‘Yeah. Hers was OK. She said she reckons the teachers were going easy on her as she’s the new girl.’

  ‘Maybe. They probably think that if they’re too tough on her she’ll want to go back to her old school in London. She only started in September, so I guess they’re giving her time to adjust. But she is clever. She probably always does well.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Ready for tomorrow night?’

  ‘Just about. Bit nervous. In fact, I don’t think I’ll get any sleep tonight, my stomach’s in a knot. Tickets are sold out, apparently. Dad’s coming, and Jen. Are your mum and dad coming?’

  ‘Nah. They’re economising as usual and weren’t bothered about seeing the show as I wasn’t in it.’

  ‘You could have been.’

  ‘C
ouldn’t.’

  ‘Could.’

  ‘Couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t. OK, ‘night Cat. I’m going to call Mac now.’

  ‘Hey, have you read about this competition?’ he said before I could ask him about Parents’ Evening.

  ‘What competition?’

  ‘It’s in the paper. Apparently it’s going to be nationwide, for all those who felt they missed out on the X Factor-type competitions.’

  ‘Oh, not another,’ I groaned. ‘There are so many of them now. Every kids’ programme on telly has a load of hopefuls of all ages trying to be the next superstar idol.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Mac, ‘but this new competition is for fourteen to sixteens. The entry age for those TV shows was over sixteen.’

  ‘So what is it this time? Are they looking for a band or just one star>’

  ‘A girl and a boy. A Pop Princess and a Pop Prince.’

  ‘Oh well, good luck to them,’ I said. ‘I don’t know why people put themselves through that sort of thing. Some of the judges on those programmes were ruthless. I felt really sorry for some of the contestants. How could they take it?’

  ‘But look at what happens if you win,’ countered Mac.

  ‘Yeah, but I don’t know if it’s worth it. Sorry, better go. I need to wish Lia good luck.’

  ‘Hi Lia. You all ready for the opening night tomorrow?’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Lia. ‘Sort of. Mum and Dad are coming. And Ollie’s coming down from London.’

  ‘Really?’ Ollie is Lia’s divine elder brother. Cat and I both had a crush on him at the beginning of term but he was more interested in Cat at the time and I decided that ‘reject’ wasn’t a role I wanted to play. And then I got together with Mac, so it was all cool in the end. Cat still sees Ollie when he’s down from school but doesn’t really know where she stands with him. She says she doesn’t mind as she just came out of a long relationship with Squidge and doesn’t want to get into anything serious just yet, but it’s obvious that she really likes him.

  ‘Does Cat know?’

  ‘No. And don’t tell her. She’s nervous enough as it is and if she knew Ollie was sitting there watching her, I think she’d die. Oh, I hope it all goes OK. I feel so nervous.’

  Suddenly I felt glad I wasn’t in the show. It would be much more enjoyable sitting in the audience watching everybody else sweat.

  I MADE sure I was sitting behind Mr and Mrs Axford and Ollie at the show. I wanted to watch Ollie’s reaction when Cat was on so that I could tell her about it afterwards. I knew she’d want all the details. Everyone was taking sneaky looks at Mr Axford, otherwise known as Zac Axford, from the famous rock band Hot Snax. With his long hair and leather jacket, he really stood out amid the straight dads dressed in Marks and Spencer’s casuals. Mrs Axford looked fab as usual. She is stunning, with shoulder-length blonde hair, and even though the family is dead rich, she always dresses simply, in jeans and a T-shirt. It must be great having parents that cool.

  As I sat waiting for the show to start, I felt conspicuous as the only person in school who wasn’t involved in the production in some way. There were people from all years rushing about, acting important, ushering, fixing the lights, adjusting loudspeakers, selling programmes. The hall was packed with parents and friends and there was an excited buzz in the audience as the lights went down and the music to ‘Love Is a Many Splendored Thing’ struck up off stage. The curtain rose and there were Jade and Jonno, going into the first number on a beach set painted by Mac. After that, we were transported to Rydell High and I had to stop myself standing up and applauding when Cat came on as Rizzo. Ollie looked well impressed; in fact, everyone looked impressed when she started to sing. I felt a twinge of jealousy, just for a moment. I wished I’d worked harder to get a part; then everyone would be watching me with the same admiration. The feeling didn’t last long, though, as I knew in private that it was my own fault that I didn’t have a part.

  As the show got going, I was pulled in and really began to enjoy it. Apart from one scene when Kimberley Coleman got her dance steps mixed up, it went without a hitch, and at the end, the audience gave them a standing ovation. It was only then that Cat caught sight of Ollie who was standing, cheering with the rest of them. She looked shocked for a minute and I was glad she hadn’t seen him before as he might have put her off. But he gave her the thumbs-up and she grinned back at him.

  After the curtain had gone down and people got up to leave, I went backstage. Of course Squidge was there filming away and Mac was busy carrying out bits of scenery.

  ‘Brilliant, weren’t they?’ said Mac.

  I nodded. ‘And so was your scenery. It looked great.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘And Cat and Lia were fab.’

  ‘They were, weren’t they?’ said Mac. ‘In fact, having seen her tonight, I’m going to tell Cat she should go in for that competition – you know, for Pop Princess. She’s easily good enough. Jade’s been on about it for days. Course she’s already got plans to enter, but I think Cat should as well. She was great tonight. I reckon she could win.’

  I waited for him to suggest that I went in for it as well, but the thought didn’t seem to have occurred to him, and for a moment I felt miffed. Why didn’t he think that I’d stand a chance?

  ‘Hey Becca,’ called Cat as she came out of the dressing room with the other girls.

  I gave her a big hug. ‘Well done! I was so proud of you.’ Then I caught sight of Ollie coming towards us with a bunch of freesias. ‘And I don’t think I was the only one.’

  Cat blushed when she saw Ollie, so I decided to make myself scarce for a moment and went to find Lia. I popped my head around the dressing room door and there was Jade, surrounded by her mates. She caught my eye and gave me one of her ‘What are you doing here?’ looks, but I decided to be generous. She had been good, after all, and I would be friends with her if she would just be a bit nicer.

  ‘Fab show, Jade,’ I said. ‘Well done – you were really top.’

  She looked like she was going to faint with shock. ‘Oh, right, thanks,’ she stuttered.

  I laughed to myself. I may have felt a bit jealous but I believe in giving credit where it’s due.

  ‘Thank God that’s over,’ laughed Lia, coming up behind me with Squidge in tow. ‘Now we can all relax.’

  ‘No,’ said Squidge. ‘I think we should move on. Today Torpoint, tomorrow the world.’

  ‘What are you on about, Squidge?’ I asked.

  ‘We have to think big,’ he said. ‘So Becca, truth, dare, kiss or promise?’

  ‘What, now?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah. Now. Come on. Quick.’

  ‘OK. Dare’ I said.

  ‘Good,’ said Squidge. ‘I was hoping you’d pick that one.’

  ‘Lia, truth, dare, kiss or promise?’

  ‘Promise,’ she said.

  He called over to Cat, who was deep in conversation with Ollie. ‘Truth, dare, kiss or promise?’ he asked.

  She looked flirtily at Ollie. ‘Dare.’ She smiled up at him.

  ‘Excellent.’ Squidge grinned as he pulled a piece of newspaper out of his back pocket. ‘I have un grando dare for Becca and Cat. You know this competition for Pop Prince and Pop Princess? Well I dare both of you . . .’ He looked pointedly at me, ‘. . . and I mean, both of you, to go up for it. Lia, you picked promise, so you have to promise to go as well. Mac and I have already decided to give it a go. Auditions are in Plymouth next Saturday.’

  MUM BROUGHT the post in and put one of the envelopes in front of Dad.

  ‘What’s that?’ He looked up, smiling, from his breakfast of toast and Marmite. ‘Not another rejection, I hope.’

  ‘No,’ said Mum.

  He scanned the letter. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Mum. ‘The building insurance renewal. Three hundred and eighty pounds and it’s due by the end of the month.’

  I started to get up to go. I didn’t want to witness another of their rows.

  ‘W
e’ll find a way,’ said Dad.

  Mum folded her arms in front of her. ‘You mean I’ll find a way. Where are you going to get that kind of money?’

  As I was leaving, Dad glanced up at me with concern, then focused on his toast. I felt really sorry for him. He looked so helpless when she started on at him.

  I crept upstairs to my bedroom and got out the newspaper cutting that Squidge had given me the night before.

  ‘Are you the next best thing?’ it said. ‘Rocket Productions are looking for a new Pop Prince and Pop Princess. Auditions in Plymouth Town Hall on Saturday 14th and Sunday 15th December, 9 a.m. to 8 p.m. Come prepared with a song of your choice. Entry age: 14–16 years. Prize £5000 each for our Prince and Princess, and a recording deal to make a single.’

  I leaned back and closed my eyes. First, I imagined myself handing the cheque over to Mum and Dad. That should stop them rowing. All the press would want to know me, I’d be given a top makeover, my photo would be on the front of all the magazines. Everyone at school would be so jealous when my single went straight to number one. I’d win an award at the Grammys; in fact, I’d present an award with my new best friend Kylie Minogue. I’d be a stone thinner and wearing an amazing sparkly designer dress and shoes, my hair would be perfectly straight for a change and afterwards I’d go to an all celebrity party with Robbie and Eminem and Madonna. Ohmigod, I thought as I folded the paper away, here I go again. The teachers were right – I am a dreamer.

  At that moment, Dad stuck his head round the door. ‘You in there, Bec?’ he said, then came in and sat at the end of my bed. ‘What you up to?’

  I showed him the newspaper cutting. ‘We thought we might go in for it.’

  Dad read the cutting. ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘Me, Lia, Cat, Mac and Squidge. Squidge dared me. Squidge, Mac and Lia know that they won’t really stand a chance because they can’t sing, but Mac says it will be a laugh. Squidge wants to do it for experience, he said. You know what he’s like, always going on about how a film director needs to have lots of different experiences in life.’