Cecelia Ahern - Lyrebird

Laura holds the microphone to her mouth and looks around. She doesn’t say anything. Her breath is audible in the absolute silence.

Tommy stands at the edge of the stage, holds his hands up in a grand gesture. ‘Say something, anything , doesn’t matter what, we just need to hear you.’

Bo looks nervous, Solomon isn’t sure if she’s worried about Laura or about her own reputation. Rachel is biting her lip and looking down at the ground, an angry energy emanating from her. Solomon makes a note to ask her about it later.

They go through the ten-second countdown again.

Laura looks at Solomon and spends the full two minutes making the sound of the coffee machine. Solomon laughs so much Bo elbows him in the stomach, production staff glare at him, and he has to leave the studio because he can’t help himself.

Hours later, when the live show has begun, while four people have had the thumbs up and five have had the thumbs down, Solomon, Rachel and Bo film Laura’s nervous wait backstage. She can barely speak with the nerves. Bianca, her handler, doesn’t leave her side and Laura, jumpy, imitates the sound of the walkie-talkie in Bianca’s hand and just about everything Bianca does. Bianca ignores it as though it’s not happening.

Bianca counts her down to her performance. ‘We’ll go to the studio in two minutes.’

Laura’s breath catches and she moves away.

‘I need to go to the bathroom.’

‘Hold on, hold on, you can’t go now,’ Bianca says, alarm in her eyes, things no longer cool.

Solomon puts the boom mic down, and Rachel too stops filming.

‘What are you doing?’ Bo looks at them, confused.

Rachel refuses to answer. The camera is on the floor beside her, her arms are crossed, her eyes to the floor.

‘Solomon?’

He takes Laura by the arm and leads her around the corner, out of earshot from everybody else, but still just in case, he moves his lips to her ear, so close that he feels his nose brush her hair, his lips brush her soft earlobe.

‘You have the ability to take people somewhere else. Somewhere they can’t see, but somewhere they can feel. If you don’t know what to do, if nothing comes to you, close your eyes, and think of something that makes you happy. Think of your mum and Gaga.’

‘Okay,’ she says, so quietly, he feels her breath on his cheek.

He breathes her in. ‘You look beautiful.’

She smiles.

He moves away quickly, head down, eyes down, Bo and Rachel’s eyes on him.

‘You ready?’ Bianca asks, the alarm still in her eyes. The message being: you better be.

‘Yes,’ Laura says.

‘Cool.’ She lifts her walkie-talkie to her mouth. ‘Lyrebird on the move.’

Laura stands on the stage, the audience’s welcoming applause dies down and it’s silent.

‘Hello there,’ Jack says from his throne, subtly looking her up and down, and not so subtly liking what he sees.

‘Hello,’ Laura says into the microphone. Solomon couldn’t be more proud, Rachel is biting down on her nails. Jack has been generous with their access so far, but they can’t film while the show is airing live, they will have to get their footage from the show.

‘What’s your name, tell us about yourself.’

‘I’m… Lau… Lyrebird,’ she corrects herself, ‘I’m twenty-six and I’m from Gougane Barra in Cork.’

There’s a cheer from a section of the audience.

Jack big-ups the people from Cork in the house. He likes Lyrebird, you can tell. He is wearing his charming face.

‘And tell me, what are you going to do for us tonight?’

Laura is silent. ‘I’m not sure yet.’

The audience laugh. Laura doesn’t. Jack does.

‘Okay, good answer. Well, I hope you decide soon, your two minutes is about to start. Good luck, Lyrebird.’

The studio spotlights turn red and the entire stage is plunged into a blood-red light. The timer on the screen ticks down ten seconds. Then it goes green and Laura’s two minutes begin.

For the first ten seconds she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t utter one single sound. She’s looking around, almost in shock, stunned, taking everything in. Ten seconds of silence on live TV is a long time. The audience start to turn on her, they start to titter.

Someone shouts, a male voice, deep and a heavy Dublin accent. ‘Come on, Lyrebird!’

Startled, she jumps, and mimics exactly what was just said.

The audience laugh.

The sound from the darkness is so sudden and explosive in her ear that she mimics the audience’s collective laughter straight away. Then there are gasps, and silence. She has their attention. She sees the red light of the TV camera before her, the rest of the studio is in darkness. Jack Starr is lit up in his throne like he’s some kind of king. She thinks of last year’s winner and suddenly the harmonica sound fills the ear to less laughter and more shocked gasps. She knows she can’t do that for the next minute, she doesn’t know all of the winner’s song.

The lights on her face are hot, there’s a heavy expectant air.

She thinks of what Solomon told her. She closes her eyes. Thinks of her dear mum who would never believe that she is here right now, her Gaga who sent her to the mountain for her own safety, thinking being away from the world was going to protect her forever, but now she’s here for the whole world to see, their worst fear for her.

A buzzer suddenly sounds and she opens her eyes in surprise. The lights are on full, no more darkness from the audience and the green has plunged to red again.

She looks around, bewildered, thinking she’s blown it. She didn’t say anything. She has lost her chance. She has embarrassed Bo, even worse, Solomon. She lowers the microphone from her mouth. She waits to be ridiculed, to receive the gold thumbs down immediately. Her heart pounds, she feels mortified. There is no applause, the lights change from red to normal again and she can see the faces in the audience. She has no idea what she has done but the entire studio is silent, looking at her and each other in bafflement and surprise. Some even with admiration. What has she done?

She swallows and looks at Jack Starr, who’s now talking, analysing her performance, but she can’t focus on the meaning of his words. She hears them individually, but collectively they make no sense to her. Her heart is hammering. She feels mortified. Her chance to begin something new and she has failed so soon. The audience have ten seconds to place their vote, as do the people at home. As does Jack Starr.

The audience vote is revealed first. She readies herself to be strong, to lift her chin and take it.

To her utter surprise, the stage is bathed in gold as the audience gold thumbs up is revealed.

Then Jack’s vote is next. A giant gold thumbs up appears on the screen above her, but of course she can’t see this. She hears happy fast music, the stage is bathed in gold light and Tommy the floor manager is standing offstage gesturing wildly for her to go to him. She looks around awkwardly then leaves the stage.

She’s through.

‘That was incredible, fucking incredible,’ Jack Starr booms down the corridor after Laura.

They all turn around, camera included, and Bo and Solomon move out of the shot.

Jack goes directly to Laura and places his hands on her shoulders, looks at her square on.

‘Lyrebird, that was unbelievable… magical. Are you sure you haven’t got a tape recorder in there?’ He pretends to look into her mouth. ‘Seriously…’ He tries to calm himself, he is genuinely pumped. ‘That was phenomenal. I have never seen anything like that before, never heard anything like that before. I don’t think anyone in the world has seen anything like that before. I mean, of course we’ve heard it before, but not all from one human mouth.’ He laughs. ‘All those sounds, water, wind, people, laughter, you gotta give me the list of everything. I mean, wow. We’re going to make you a star!’