Withering Tights - By Louise Rennison Page 0,48
girls handed me my bike.
CHAPTER 14
Dance of the Sugar Plum Bikey
My heart was thumping
My knees were bruised
I think I have sprained my ankle. Certainly I have destroyed a stoat mask made out of corn on the cob and a hula hoop. The bike might be fixable.
It took Bob and a couple of the bigger girls a little while to untangle me from the stage lights. When I eventually hobbled back on stage for the crit there was a big round of applause. And I heard someone yell “Encore”.
But I think they may have been being ironic.
The singing was good, the lights went on and off, the bicycles’ chorus across the back was good, it was all going so well. I think the audience was a little bit surprised by my bike solo when I did a jeté and then the bike did a jeté but…
It was when I came to do my final piece de resistance: the lying on the saddle with my legs outstretched at the back. I was fine, I was balanced and focused. Vaisey’s singing had reached a crescendo and I had my sticks of rock ready when my net skirt caught in the back wheel. And ripped off. Leaving me in my apple catchers.
In the spotlight.
The net skirt also jammed the wheel so the bike suddenly stopped and I plunged over the handlebars and into the backstage area through the blackout curtain.
Gudrun handed me some hessian to cover my knickers. As I hobbled back in front of the audience, all I could think of was that maybe, by the grace of God, Alex had been in a minor car accident.
But then Lavinia hopped up on to the stage and said, “Well, that was soo railly good.” And she glanced over to me, “And railly brave. Well done, you. You may have noticed that we have a tall handsome stranger with us today. Besides you, Bob!”
Bob flicked what was left of his ponytail back. And gave a thumbs up. He truly does think he is handsome.
Lavinia went on. “May I introduce you to the lovely Alex Barraclough. A local boy made good. Alex has starred in West End shows and is now on his way to take up a place at Liverpool Rep. So very exciting. He kindly said he would give us a word or two about today’s performance. So over to Alex.”
Alex stood up and swung himself on to the side of the stage. All of the girls and most of the staff (especially Monty) were practically drooling and flicking their hair.
Alex seemed very relaxed, he was probably used to it.
I pulled the hessian around me more tightly. God, my ankle hurt. I could never ever go round to The Blind Pig again. I didn’t want to listen to what he was about to say. And also I thought I was probably having a heart attack. My heart was thumping, my knees were bruised and Alex had seen me in my knickers.
Vaisey was standing next to me and she squeezed my hand.
Jo mouthed, “You’ve got some rock in your hair.”
Oh goodie.
Alex talked about “exploration” and “pushing boundaries” and not being afraid to fail. He said he’d enjoyed each piece in its own way.
Then as a final thing he said, “It’s always hard to say what you like and why, but I have to say, in all honesty, I have never seen anything like the Sugar Plum Bikey. Never. It was ambitious and daring and…of course, accidents do happen. I once opened a door on stage and the whole set wall fell down. I haven’t actually crashed off a bike head first into the wings. But maybe one day I will be lucky enough.”
Everyone laughed.
I felt a bit better, actually. I think he was trying to make me feel less of an idiot.
He went off to massive applause.
The girls were very nice to me. They said it was a brave effort and everything, but I knew.
We were getting our assessment marks after lunch. I couldn’t eat anything so I sat on the front steps just looking at the moors. I didn’t have what it took. I wasn’t full of Northern grit. I was full of some kind of grit from the stage floor, but it wasn’t the kind I needed.
Blaise Fox came striding down the steps.
Please, please don’t let her say anything horrid.
She said, “Tallulah, that was a triumph. You don’t know how funny you are.”
We got our assessments in little sealed envelopes. So this was