- Home
- Arlene Phillips
Alana Dancing Star
Alana Dancing Star Read online
The Students at Step Out Studio
For Abi, who has always
inspired me
Contents
Title Page
The Students at Step Out Studio
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Enter Arlene’s World of Dance
Alana Dancing Star Series
Copyright
‘Yeeucchh! Toby, that is disgusting!’ shrieked Alana, giggling in spite of herself.
Alana and Toby were sitting opposite each other in the school canteen, and Toby had just made some tomato soup come out of his nose and dribble down his face.
‘Hey, Toby, will you teach me how to do that?’ called a boy from the far end of the table. ‘Then I can gross out my sister when we’re having dinner at home.’
‘Sure!’ replied Toby. He took his soup and moved to sit next to him, leaving Alana on her own.
Alana sighed. Toby was one of the boys who went to Step Out Studio, the place she had dance lessons every week. Looking at him now, he certainly didn’t seem like a dancer.
Luckily Alana wasn’t left eating alone for long, because just then her best friend Meena came up to join her. ‘What do you think about this Ballroom Bonanza?’ squeaked Meena, as soon as she sat down. ‘Exciting or what?’
The Ballroom Bonanza was a county dance competition. The evening before, at Step Out Studio, their teacher Miss Trina had told them all about it. She was going to enter the two best couples for the Viennese Waltz category – and everyone had a fortnight to rehearse before she made her decision.
‘I’d love to take part!’ replied Alana, her face lighting up. ‘I’m going to practise soooo hard. You’re sure to be picked, Meena – you’re brilliant at the Viennese Waltz.’
‘Thanks,’ muttered Meena, lowering her voice, ‘but I don’t think I stand a chance cos Toby’s my partner, and he doesn’t even try.’
Alana glanced over to the far end of the table where Toby and his friend were now busy flicking peas at each other.
‘It’s so annoying,’ she replied, sympathetically. ‘Especially because he could be a really good dancer, but he just never makes the effort.’
‘It’s all his mum’s fault,’ sighed Meena. ‘Just because she used to be this amazing dancer and then she had to give up because she was injured. So now she expects Toby to take her place, whether he wants to or not.’
‘Yeah, I have to admit I’m glad I’m dancing with Keisha,’ said Alana. ‘I’d rather have a boy as my partner, but Keisha’s great at learning steps and she practises hard.’
The girls’ conversation was interrupted by howls of laughter from the other end of the table. Toby had put two breadsticks in his mouth to look like fangs, and was saying ‘I am Count Dracula!’ in a horrible moan.
Alana and Meena looked at each other with raised eyebrows and Meena gave a deep sigh.
‘You can’t look at Toby now and seriously think Miss Trina’s going to pick us for a ballroom dancing competition,’ she said.
‘Hmmm,’ laughed Alana. ‘I take your point. Come on – there are chocolate brownies for pudding – they may make you feel better. I’ll go get us some.’
‘OK, but let’s move to a different table!’ said Meena.
When Alana arrived home that evening she called ‘hi’ to her mum, ruffled the hair of her six-year-old sister, Abi, then dashed upstairs to her room to call Keisha.
‘I sooo want to be chosen for the Ballroom Bonanza,’ Keisha said. ‘You get to dance at the City Hall on a proper, professional stage. It sounds like so much fun.’
‘Totally!’ replied Alana. ‘Why don’t we meet up to rehearse after school every day – your house one night and mine the next?’
‘Sounds OK to me!’ said Keisha.
‘Did you hear, the Ballroom Bonanza’s even being filmed for the local news?’ asked Alana.
‘If we’re chosen, we’ll be TV stars!’ Keisha replied. ‘Maybe we’ll be talent-spotted by some big-shot film producer, who’ll ask us to star in a movie. Then we’ll have to move to Hollywood and take our families over there and everything.’
‘Yeah!’ laughed Alana. ‘And we could share a massive mansion with a proper dance studio to rehearse in –’
‘And a netball court –’ interrupted Keisha.
‘And we’d go to a fancy school in Beverly Hills instead of Rosebury Primary,’ Alana continued. ‘Except when we were filming, when we’d have to have a private tutor.’
‘And we could have a huge bedroom each with a four-poster bed and a flat-screen TV and our own bathroom,’ added Keisha.
‘And,’ continued Alana, ‘we could bring Miss Trina over there with us so she could still be our dance teacher, and …’
But at that moment she was interrupted by a banging on her bedroom door. ‘Alana, will you please get off the phone,’ shouted her mum. ‘I need to talk to you.’
‘Gotta go,’ Alana muttered to Keisha. ‘But why don’t you come over after supper and we’ll do our first practice?’
‘OK – see you later!’ said Keisha.
Alana rolled off her bed and opened her door.
‘There you are!’ her mum said, rather unnecessarily. Abi was standing behind her, tugging at her jumper and trying to attract her attention.
‘In a minute, Abi!’ said Mum irritably. Then she turned back to Alana. ‘I’m going to need you to look after Abi for the next few evenings, because I have to study.’
‘WHAT!’ screeched Alana and Abi in unison.
‘I have to practise for the Ballroom Bonanza!’ wailed Alana.
‘Alana’s always so bossy when she’s looking after me!’ groaned Abi at the same time.
‘Will you both be QUIET!’ shouted their mum, her hands over her ears. ‘Now, listen! I have a very important exam in ten days’ time, and if I don’t study for it I’m going to fail. And I’m working at the café during the day, so my only time to study is in the evenings. Now, Alana, you will look after Abi, and Abi, you will behave for Alana. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?’
‘Yes, Mum,’ the girls said, meekly. They both knew that there was absolutely no point in arguing with their mum when she was like this.
‘And,’ continued Mum, ‘I don’t want either of you having friends round while I’m studying. The house is noisy enough as it is.’
‘Yes, Mum,’ sighed the girls again.
Alana couldn’t believe it. Her mum never could understand how important dancing was to her. The moment she was alone, she picked up the phone and called Keisha back to tell her the bad news. Keisha was sympathetic, but she sounded disappointed as well – if she and Alana couldn’t practise, that would affect both of their chances of being chosen.
The next day, Alana put some pizza in the microwave for herself and Abi, then once they’d eaten and cleared up, she played with her sister until bedtime. There was no time to even think about the waltz, never mind rehearse it.
The following evening, Alana was feeling so desperate to practise her dancing that she asked Abi if she’d do the waltz with her. Abi was excited to be asked – usually Alana wouldn’t let her have anything to do with her dancing. They went into Alana’s room where she always practised her dance routines.
‘Now, Abi,’ said Alana, ‘the Viennese Waltz has only three main steps, but it’s not as easy as it sounds. There aren’t any straight lines in it. You have to turn in circles the whole time and you can get so dizzy.’
Abi nod
ded, listening earnestly.
‘OK,’ Alana continued, ‘I’m going to put the music on and we’ll give it a go.’
As soon as she heard the music, Abi started spinning round and round the room, giggling madly.
‘STOP IT!’ shouted Alana, turning off the music. ‘If you can’t try to do it properly, there’s no point in you practising with me at all.’
‘Sorry, Alana,’ said Abi, meekly. ‘I will try, honest.’
Alana showed Abi the correct position to start the waltz. ‘We’ll walk it through without the music for now. You go forward with your right foot turning right, to the side with your left still turning, and close your right foot to your left foot.’
‘Which is my right foot?’ asked Abi, stepping on Alana’s toes.
‘Ouch!’ screeched Alana. ‘OK, I give up. This was a stupid idea. I’m obviously never going to get to dance in the Ballroom Bonanza. I should just forget about it.’
Alana went to school a few days later in an even worse mood. She should have gone to Step Out Studio for her dance class the night before, but instead, she’d been stuck at home looking after her sister.
She caught up with Meena in the corridor on the way to the classroom and grabbed her elbow. ‘How did the class go?’ she asked. ‘How’s Keisha getting on without a partner?’
There was a short silence.
‘Actually,’ muttered Meena awkwardly, ‘Keisha does have a partner. When Miss Trina heard that you couldn’t come to the class, she put Keisha with Jamie.’
‘No way!’ cried Alana. ‘That is SO unfair. Keisha knows how much I wanted to take part in the Bonanza. Just because she wants to dance with a boy!’
‘To be honest, Alana, it really wasn’t Keisha’s fault,’ said Meena quietly. ‘She didn’t have any choice.’
‘Yes, she did!’ groaned Alana. ‘She could have said, “No, my partner is Alana.”’
‘You know she couldn’t, Alana,’ Meena replied. ‘No one says “no” to Miss Trina.’
Alana sighed. She knew Meena was right. Miss Trina was an excellent teacher, and one of the reasons she was so good was that her discipline was extremely strong. When Miss Trina spoke, you did what she said – you didn’t argue.
‘OK, I guess you’re right,’ said Alana. ‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘how are you getting on, dancing with Toby?’
‘Very badly,’ said Meena. ‘When we were rehearsing, he spent half the time talking about some new skateboarding move he’s just learned instead of concentrating on the dance steps. When he wasn’t doing that, he was pretending that when we were spinning round during the dance we were actually on a waltzer at the fairground.’
‘That’s just rubbish,’ sighed Alana. ‘And what about Verity? Is she dancing with Matthew as usual?’
‘Yep,’ replied Meena. ‘They work really well together – they’re both such great dancers. But I wish Verity wasn’t so mean all the time. She even looked pleased when she heard you couldn’t come to class.’
‘Oh well,’ sighed Alana. ‘I’ve enough to worry about without thinking about Verity.’
As Alana walked home from school that evening, her head was full of the Ballroom Bonanza. She had to fight back tears of frustration that she was missing out on such a brilliant chance.
She was so distracted that she didn’t notice where she was until, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the glow of Madame Coco’s Costume Emporium. She hesitated. She knew she was meant to be going straight home to look after Abi. But if there was ever a time when she needed Madame Coco’s help, surely this was it.
I’ll just pop in for ten minutes and have a chat with her, she thought. I definitely won’t try on any costumes. Whenever Alana tried on a costume in Madame Coco’s shop she ended up having an extraordinary adventure. But today, she wasn’t looking for excitement – she just wanted to see Madame Coco’s friendly face.
Wiping her eyes with her sleeve, Alana pushed the door open.
But when Alana stepped inside, her heart sank. Madame Coco was standing with a small girl and her mother, who were in the middle of an argument.
‘But WHY won’t you buy it for me?’ the girl was screaming at her mother, holding up a bright pink tutu studded with silver sequins.
‘Because it’s too expensive, darling,’ the mother was saying, patting her on the head weakly. ‘We just can’t afford it.’
‘But I want it! I want it! I want it!’ screeched the girl, stamping her foot.
‘I’ve got an idea,’ said Madame Coco, looking harassed. ‘Why don’t you try this one instead? A lot of our young ballet dancers choose it.’ She held up a simple tutu with three layers of white skirts and a white satin band.
‘NO!’ screamed the girl, swiping it out of Madame Coco’s hand so it landed on the floor. ‘I want the pink one!’
‘I know you do, my angel,’ said her mother, soothingly.
She turned to Madame Coco. ‘You’ll have to forgive my little girl,’ she said. ‘She’s very highly strung, but that’s just because she’s such a talented ballerina.’
Madame Coco said nothing.
Alana decided to go. It obviously wasn’t going to be possible to talk to Madame Coco that evening.
But as soon as she moved towards the door, Madame Coco held up an imperious hand in her direction. Alana stopped in her tracks. ‘Give me five minutes,’ Madame Coco mouthed, and gestured her to the velvet armchair.
So Alana sat down and watched while Madame Coco expertly found a cheaper pink tutu that the girl was prepared to wear, packed it up in tissue paper and ushered the child and her mother out of the shop. As they were leaving, Alana could hear the girl whining.
‘But WHY can’t I have an ice cream? I don’t care if it’s dark outside. I want one RIGHT NOW!’
Once the shop door had closed, Alana and Madame Coco looked at each other and laughed. Then Madame Coco came to sit down.
‘Now, ma chérie,’ she said. ‘Tell me all about it.’
‘How do you know I have something to tell you about?’ asked Alana.
‘My dear, I can see in your eyes that something is troubling you. I always know. Now, wait one moment and I make you something to drink.’
Madame Coco disappeared into the back of the shop, and returned with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream and pink and white marshmallows.
As she sipped, Alana told Madame Coco all about the Ballroom Bonanza and how she wasn’t able to take part.
When she had finished, Madame Coco heaved herself up from her chair. ‘Wait here, ma petite,’ she said. ‘I have just the thing to help you.’
But Alana shook her head. ‘It’s really kind of you, Madame Coco, but to be honest, if it’s a costume to try on I don’t think it will make any difference. I’ll still have to look after Abi so I won’t be able to rehearse. And I still won’t have a partner.’
‘Do not worry,’ replied Madame Coco. ‘Just have a look at the dress that I have in mind.’
Before Alana had a chance to object any more, Madame Coco disappeared between the rails of costumes, and returned after a short time carrying a ball gown.
Alana gasped. The dress was a delicate yellow. Its layers of skirts were gathered up all around with bouquets of tiny yellow silk roses and around the neckline were hundreds of sparkling beads.
All thoughts of getting home went out of her mind. She just had to try the dress on. Madame Coco came into the changing room to help her with it – it was so large and complicated that she couldn’t manage it by herself. Madame Coco held out the skirts with their many petticoats so that Alana could step into the middle of them. Then she fastened her up at the back.
‘Now,’ said Madame Coco, leading her into the main part of the shop again, ‘we just need one or two finishing touches.’
Deftly, she arranged Alana’s hair into a fancy up-do, leaving a few curls hanging round her ears. Then she climbed a ladder to reach one of the high shelves that lined the shop. When she came down, she
was holding a beautiful pair of pale yellow satin ballroom shoes with diamanté bows.
When Alana had put them on, she stared at herself in the full-length mirror. ‘I look like a princess,’ she sighed as Madame Coco popped a glittering tiara on top of her head.
‘Why don’t you see if you can dance like a princess, too?’ asked Madame Coco. ‘Wait one moment – for the Viennese Waltz you need space.’ She moved the two velvet armchairs to one side, and wheeled back a rail of leotards so that it stood against the wall. Now there was a miniature dance floor in the middle of the shop.
‘Alors,’ said Madame Coco, clapping her hands, ‘pretend you have a handsome young man as your partner, and begin the dance.’
Alana closed her eyes, stretched out her arms in the waltzing position, and imagined her partner in front of her. Without her intending it, it was Matthew’s face that sprang immediately to mind. Slowly she began to turn, keeping the 1, 2, 3 rhythm in her head. Then she spun faster and faster, and all at once, the room seemed to be spinning with her. Her skin tingled, and she could no longer feel the ground beneath her feet. It was almost as if she were flying – but still she danced.
From far away, she heard Madame Coco’s voice calling to her, ‘Remember my little one, when your good deed is done, the call of home will beckon. You will return home! You will return home!’ Then the voice faded away, and was replaced by the distant strains of an orchestra, growing louder and louder.
When Alana’s feet touched the ground again she opened her eyes, but the spectacle in front of her was so overwhelming that she immediately closed them.
When Alana had plucked up the courage to open her eyes again, she saw that she was in a magnificent ballroom. An orchestra was playing at one end, and all around her were waltzing couples, the ladies in exquisite ball gowns, the men in elegant tail coats. Scores of chandeliers hung down from the high ceiling, blazing with candles, and the floor beneath her was made of intricately patterned marble. Alana felt as though she was in the middle of a palace straight out of a fairytale.