Billie's Big Audition. Kimberly Wyatt

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СКАЧАТЬ the most famous and successful dancers in the world. Billie had read the article so many times she practically knew it by heart. As she skim-read it again, her heart began to pound. What if Miss Murphy was at the auditions tomorrow? What if Billie had to dance in front of her? What if she messed up in front of her? Her mouth went dry. Then she remembered the envelope Uncle Charlie had given her and fumbled in her pocket for it. She snuggled closer to her bedside lamp and started to read.

       If you could take an hour and put it in a glass,

       To wait and use it later, when all other time has passed,

       If you could take that precious hour and use it for right now,

       What would you use it on, knowing time never lasts?

       If you could fill that hour with sixty minutes of hope,

       If you could know that hour could really come to pass.

       Then now is the time to take that hour,

       Now is the time to break that glass.

      Billie tucked the poem under her pillow, switched off her lamp and closed her eyes. Now is the time to break that glass, she repeated over and over in her head until finally she fell asleep.

      Billie got off the train and checked the time on her phone. She went up the station stairs and checked the time on her phone. She emerged blinking into the bright sunlight and checked the time on her phone. But it was no good – she was still crazy early. She’d wanted to give herself time to prepare before everyone else got there, but hadn’t meant to be this early. She’d been so worried about something going wrong – the bus not coming, the train being delayed – that she’d set out two hours before she needed to. Of course, for once, everything had been on time.

      She started walking along the tree-lined road. WEDA was in a leafy suburb just outside of London, and it was nice being out of the hustle and bustle of the city – the green fields and chirping birds helped soothe Billie’s nerves. Following the map on her phone, she turned into the narrow lane that led to the academy. ‘I’m a doer, not just a dreamer,’ she whispered, reminding herself of Uncle Charlie’s pep talk. She had his poem tucked in her pocket for luck too. ‘I’m a doer, not just a dreamer.’

      The wrought iron gates of the academy loomed into view, and Billie’s heart began to pound. You’ve got this, she told herself. You’re going to be great. You’re going to dance like a . . . like a fearless tornado! She grinned. Sometimes her inner motivator said the weirdest things. She slipped through the gate and up the drive, her feet crunching on the gravel. WEDA looked beautiful. The early morning sunlight glowed gold on the glass walls of the Murphy Wing. This is it, Billie thought to herself. All the years of practising and training and exams had been leading right up to this moment. She followed the signs to the reception and looked up at the huge wooden doors. What if they were locked? What if she was so early not even the staff had arrived? But when she gave one of the doors a push it slowly creaked open. Billie stepped into a large reception area. It was cool and dark compared to the bright sunshine outside and smelled of polish.

      ‘Well, someone’s ready to slay,’ a voice echoed, and she jumped.

      Billie turned to see a boy at the other end of the foyer. His dark hair was shaven at the sides and longer and spiky on top. He had latte-coloured skin and was wearing bright orange tracksuit bottoms and a silky black bomber jacket. He was also holding a mop. Billie sighed. Even the cleaners at WEDA had swagger. She suddenly became all too aware of her supermarket trainers and hoodie.

      ‘I take it you’re here for the auditions,’ the boy said, mopping his way towards her. As he got closer she took in his high cheek bones, full lips, perfectly plucked eyebrows and a smile that lit up the whole room. He was really good-looking – and from the confident way he was leaning on the mop, his other hand on his hip, it looked like he knew it.

      ‘Yes. Sorry I’m so early,’ Billie replied. ‘I was worried the train was going to be late.’

      ‘And was it?’

      ‘Nope.’

      ‘Ha! Typical.’ The boy pursed his lips. ‘Why is it that whenever you’re early the train’s never late? It’s like one of those laws of physics – like gravity or something. Go ahead. Make yourself at home.’ He gestured to a plush leather sofa on one side of the foyer. ‘The receptionist should be here soon. Once it’s, you know, not night time any more.’ He looked at Billie and burst out laughing. ‘Joking. My name’s Andre, by the way.’

      Billie grinned. ‘I’m Billie.’ She perched on the edge of the sofa and took a deep breath. WEDA was no longer just a picture on her dream-board. It was real and she was sitting right inside it! She watched Andre as he swished the mop around the floor in large circles. Part of her wished she was back helping her mum in her invisible role as a cleaner. Not that there was anything invisible about Andre; he stood out like a beacon.

      Billie was about to take Uncle Charlie’s poem from her pocket for a final read when the door crashed open and a girl marched in, followed closely by a woman who Billie guessed must be her mum, judging by their matching manes of dark hair and haughty expressions.

      ‘It’s OK, Mum, you can go now,’ the girl snapped as she marched straight across Andre’s freshly mopped floor.

      ‘Should I not wait until the teachers arrive?’ the girl’s mum said in a thick Eastern European accent.

      ‘No! I’m fine.’

      ‘No need to shout, Cassandra. Do you have your headshot?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And your CV?’

      ‘Yes!’

      ‘OK, I’ll go. But remember everything I told you.’

      Cassandra gave a theatrical sigh. ‘Yes, Mum.’

      As Cassandra’s mum turned and swept back out, Andre raised one groomed eyebrow at Billie, who stifled a grin. Cassandra plonked herself down on the sofa, bringing with her a waft of exotic perfume. She smelled as expensive as she looked. Again, Billie looked down at her own clothes and felt a stab of embarrassment. When she’d checked in the mirror before leaving this morning she’d felt fine but now, next to Cassandra with her glossy hair and designer tracksuit, she felt so dull – like an Instagram photo pre-filter.

      ‘Excuse me, cleaner,’ Cassandra called to Andre.

      Billie watched as Andre’s back stiffened and he slowly turned back to face them.

      ‘You talking to me?’ he asked.

      ‘Of course. I don’t see any other cleaners around here, do you? Unless . . .’ She turned to Billie and looked her up and down. ‘Are you a cleaner too?’

      Billie’s heart sank. ‘No, I’m here for the audition.’

      ‘Really?’ Cassandra sounded so surprised СКАЧАТЬ