Jean Ure - Star Quality

“Not yet,” I said.

“Oh.” Her face fell. “Maybe it’ll be waiting for you when you get home.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Don’t worry about it. The main thing is that you’ve got in!”

“I won’t tell anyone,” promised Caitlyn. “Not till you’ve heard, as well!”

I struggled for a bit, then said, “That’s OK. You can tell people.”

I knew she must be dying to. But Caitlyn said no, it wouldn’t be fair. “We’ll wait till we can both do it.”

“What about Mum?” I said. “You ought to tell Mum! And Sean. You’ve got to tell Sean. Give him a call right now!”

“Now?” She looked shocked. “He might be asleep.”

“So wake him up! It’s good news; he’ll be happy. Go on, quick, before we have to go into class.”

“Wouldn’t it be better if you did it?” she said.

I said, “Me? Why me? I’m not the one that’s got good news!”

“ Please , Maddy.” She clasped her hands together. “You do it! Then you can tell your mum, as well.”

I shook my head. “You are such a coward,” I said.

He was my brother, for goodness’ sake! And in spite of being one of Madam’s favourites and one of the Company’s leading dancers, he is one of the easiest people to talk to. Unlike some I could name (but won’t cos it could be libel), he doesn’t have any sort of star complex. Caitlyn really ought to know him well enough by now. It was high time she got over her schoolgirl crush! But it didn’t seem fair to nag her, specially when she’d been so noble and self-sacrificing about keeping her audition result a secret until I’d had mine.

I did rather wonder why my letter hadn’t yet come. I knew it wouldn’t be waiting for me when I got in cos the post had already arrived when I’d left that morning.

“D’you think the others have heard?” I said.

The minute I said it, Caitlyn turned pink all over again.

I said, “They have ?”

“They texted me this morning,” she said. “They’ve both got in.”

“Why didn’t they text me ?”

“Cos they knew I’d tell you?”

“But they’re my friends as much as yours! Why didn’t they text both of us?”

“Maybe because … cos we all know you’ll get in. You’re, like … up there –” she raised a hand above her head – “and we’re, like, sort of …”

“Sort of what?”

“What I mean –” she was starting to sound a bit desperate – “it’s like you’re royalty!”

I said, “ What ?”

“Your mum and dad! You’re like a sort of royal family. Of the ballet world,” she added, hastily.

I stared at her, horrified. “That’s completely mad! I’m just the same as the rest of you.”

“You’re not,” said Caitlyn. “You know you’re not. I’m very glad you’re not, cos if it hadn’t been for your mum …”

Who did sometimes behave a bit like royalty, I had to admit.

“We don’t hold it against you,” said Caitlyn, earnestly. “It’s not like you boast about it or anything. It’s just one of those things. You don’t have to worry like the rest of us. But p’raps you shouldn’t tell your mum about me getting in until you’ve heard, cos I’m sure you will tomorrow.”

But although I hung around the following morning, waiting till the last possible moment, not a single letter came fluttering through the letter box. Caitlyn was in a state of jitters at the school gates, anxious in case the bell should ring before I got there.

“Did it come?” she cried.

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “I was sure you’d have heard by now!”

“It’s OK,” I said. “As soon as I get home, I’m going to give Mum the good news about you.”

Caitlyn opened her mouth to protest.

“No,” I said, “I am! It’s not fair to keep her waiting. She’ll be so pleased when I tell her.”

“But what about you?” wailed Caitlyn. “Why haven’t you heard?”

I shrugged. “I dunno. Post, maybe? Letters are always getting lost.” That, at any rate, was what Dad said. He had this theory that all over London there were huge bags of mail that posties had just dumped. “They’ve probably gone and put it through the wrong door, or something. I’m not bothered! It’ll come.”

I said I wasn’t bothered, and it was true, I wasn’t. Not really. I couldn’t help thinking it was a bit odd, though. Caitlyn obviously thought so, too. I could tell that it was preying on her mind. At breaktime she rushed up to me and hissed, “I know why you haven’t heard!”

I said, “Why?”

“Cos you’re in the second half of the alphabet and we’re all in the first!”

I frowned.

“It’s got to be,” said Caitlyn. “Think about it!”

“Mm … maybe.” I supposed it made sense. Roz Costello, Alex Ellman, Caitlyn Hughes, Madeleine O’Brien. “I’m still going to tell Mum, though!”

I told her when I got back from school that afternoon, even though my letter still hadn’t come. Dad was there as well. He said, “Caitlyn? This is your protégée that you’ve been nursing?”

“I knew it would pay off,” said Mum. “I knew she had it in her!”

“It was me that discovered her,” I said. “Me and Sean. What’s a protégée?”

Dad groaned. “Don’t they teach you anything at that school? Protéger … to protect ?”

“You mean, like, Mum’s been protecting her?”

“Guiding her,” said Mum. “Mentoring, if you like.”

Teaching, in other words. I opened my mouth to point out – in case she had forgotten – that I was the one who’d taught her first, but Mum cut in ahead of me. “What I want to know is why Caitlyn’s heard and you haven’t?”

“Oh, we think that’s just cos of me being in the second half of the alphabet,” I said. “All the others are near the beginning.”

“What others?” said Mum, rather sharply.

“Other people that have heard.”

Mum’s eyes narrowed.

“ Costello, Ellman, Hughes …” I ticked them off on my fingers.

“They’ve all got in?”

Mum’s gaze flickered across the room to where Dad was sitting.

Dad, very faintly, hunched a shoulder. “Probably just some administrative glitch.”

“Not good enough!” snapped Mum. “Totally unacceptable! If she hasn’t heard by tomorrow, I’m going to be on that telephone demanding to speak to someone.”

“Oh, Mum, no, don’t, please!” I begged. It was bad enough everyone thinking I was like some kind of royalty, just because of who my parents were. I had been quite shocked that Roz and Alex had chosen to tell Caitlyn their good news and not me, simply cos of thinking I was above it all. I wasn’t above it all! I didn’t expect special treatment. I never got special treatment. If anything, Mum was harder on me than on anyone else when she took us for class. She was positively soft on Caitlyn! She never chewed her out or accused her of having arms like waterlogged balloons, like she’d once done to me. But she does undeniably have a lot of influence, and friends in high places, and I desperately didn’t want her wading in on my behalf. I could just hear her. “ This is Madeleine O’Brien’s mother. I’m wondering why it is that my daughter hasn’t yet had her letter of acceptance … I presume it is on its way? ”

My toes were curling in shame just at the thought of it.

Dad, fortunately, came to my rescue. “Let’s hold fire for a day or two. I’m sure there’s no cause for concern.”

“I’ll give them another twenty-four hours,” said Mum. “But that’s as far as I’m prepared to go.”

“I thought you weren’t worried,” I said.