Название: Holly and the Dancing Cat
Автор: Darcey Bussell
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Детская проза
isbn: 9780007437429
isbn:
To Phoebe and Zoe, as they are the inspiration behind Magic Ballerina.
Welcome to the world of Enchantia!
I have always loved to dance. The captivating music and wonderful stories of ballet are so inspiring. So come with me and let’s follow Holly on her magical adventures in Enchantia, where the stories of dance will take you on a very special journey.
p.s. Turn to the back to learn a special dance step from me …
Table of Contents
In the soft, pale light, the girl stood with her head bent and her hands held lightly in front of her. There was a moment’s silence and then the first notes of the music began. For as long as the girl could remember music had seemed to tell her of another world – a magical, exciting world – that lay far, far away. She always felt if she could just close her eyes and lose herself, then she would get there. Maybe this time. As the music swirled inside her, she swept her arms above her head, rose on to her toes and began to dance …
Holly Wilde swept her arms in a circle and danced forward with slow steps to the haunting, beautiful music. She stopped on her right leg, one arm above her head, the other out to the side. She paused, before gracefully bringing her arm down and moving around her bedroom, turning slowly again and again, lost in her dance.
Holly loved the ballet of Sleeping Beauty. Most people remembered the Rose Adagio, the famous dance that the princess did before she pricked her finger, but Holly had always preferred the piece of music she was dancing to now, where Sleeping Beauty appeared to the prince in a magic vision. It had a lilting, slightly ghostly melody. Sweeping her arms upwards, she pirouetted around as the music came to an end. She stopped, trembling with the joy of dancing. Closing her eyes, she imagined that she had just danced off stage and that the audience were clapping wildly.
Just like they did when Mum danced it in New York …
Sinking down on to her bed, Holly glanced at the photoframe on the chest of drawers of her mum, Bella. Her eyes, the same mossy-green as Holly’s, were shining. Her dark hair was caught up in a diamond tiara.
Holly picked the picture up, her own straight dark hair falling forward across her face. Her heart ached. Oh Mum, she thought, for about the thousandth time, why did you have to leave me here? Why couldn’t I have stayed with you?
She remembered the day she had come to live at Aunt Maria’s and Uncle Ted’s, back in July. She heard her mum’s words as she had left: “I’ll miss you so much, darling. But you’re ten now and you can’t keep on travelling around with me, you need to stay in one place, go to one school and make friends. Aunt Maria and Uncle Ted will look after you and in the holidays you can come and join me or your dad just as you always have.”
“But I don’t want to stay here,” Holly had protested.
“I know,” her mum had said softly, tears in her eyes. “But you have to. We’ll see each other soon.”