Star of Silver Spires by Ann Bryant Page B

applause rang round the auditorium my stomach turned over and over and all I wanted to do was run away, or hide under my seat.
    â€œWow, that certainly woke us up!” said Miss York, as the band left the stage. “We’ve tried to create a nice varied programme for you, though, so next we have Mia Roberts. Please welcome her to the stage!”
    Georgie thrust a water bottle in front of me and said, “Drink!” I did as I was told, then all my friends whispered, “Good luck, Mia. Good luck!” and I stumbled on shaky legs down to the stage, wondering how I was ever going to get through the next three minutes.
    â€œJust relax,” came Mr. Ray’s quiet voice from the front row as I passed him. I didn’t think anyone else would have heard.
    I sat on the piano stool and thought it was the right height, which was a relief so then I leaned forwards and spoke into the mike. “My song is called ‘Time to Say Goodbye’.”
    There was a single whoop from the audience which I recognized as Georgie’s, but it made everyone laugh and I felt pleased that there was a bit of noise to make a background for me to start playing while no one was quite ready. It seemed like only a microsecond later, though, that the theatre was completely silent apart from the piano and my voice. My hands weren’t shaking, thank goodness, but I could hear a tremor in my voice, and all the time I was singing, my head was spinning with anxious thoughts. Was I loud enough? Was I playing too slowly? Would I remember the words? Was my song boring? Would Mrs. Roach have liked this song if she’d been here? Which teachers were here? What would happen when I finished? Would anyone clap? What if no one clapped?
    Pictures of that long-ago audience laughing when I got the name of the composer wrong at the age of six, and of my eight-year-old self rushing from the stage to be sick, came flashing through my mind, but a moment later I felt as though the music of my song was carrying me away and all my other thoughts vanished.
    As I sang the last note of all I held it for a little longer than usual, because I was dreading there being a silence after it. Eventually I had to let it go, though, and my hands dropped to my lap. For a second there was not a sound apart from my heart thudding, but then it felt as though someone had switched on a waterfall where the audience was sitting – that’s the only way I can describe it. The noise of clapping just whooshed and roared and splattered, and the relief was one of the best feelings I’ve ever had.
    Nothing mattered any more. I’d managed to play my song. I hadn’t enjoyed it, but I’d done it and now I could go back to Georgie and relax for the rest of the evening. My legs were shaking so much I don’t know how I made it to my seat but somehow I did and then Georgie was hugging me.
    â€œYou were amazing!” she said. “I’m so proud of you!” And the others all leaned over and tried to pat me.
    â€œWell done!”
    â€œBrilliant!”
    â€œRight, let’s turn up the volume again,” Miss York was saying, “but not a lot, with a song from…Bella!”
    There was something different about the way Miss York had announced Bella and I couldn’t think what it was at first, but then I realized that she hadn’t said her second name, which she had for the other soloists. I wondered if that had been Bella’s idea. She walked thoughtfully and slowly down to the stage, holding her guitar by the neck, and halfway down the stairs she looked back at her friends, who all cheered her loudly. She swung back round to carry on walking and her hair swung too, like in an advert. When she got onto the stage, she strolled to the stool and sat down carefully. She was wearing the most amazing short, tight, black dress, and round her neck she’d wrapped very thin strands of glittering silver beads.
    â€œShe looks