Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
About the Author
Also in the Superstar High Series
Copyright
About the Book
Belle’s falling for the new boy
Holly’s in love
Cat’s running out of time
Life at the Garrick School of the Performing Arts is never dull, and Belle, Holly and Cat are determined to make the most of every minute.
But training to be a superstar is tough, and as the pressure mounts the girls are going to have to stick together . . .
For Mac
CHAPTER ONE
Cat: Totally Under Control
CAT WICKHAM WAS walking on air!
OK, so she wasn’t exactly defying the laws of gravity and bobbing around like a helium balloon. But she was fizzing with nervous excitement as she hurried to join her best friends, Holly Devenish and Belle Madison, on their favourite sofa in the elegant wood-panelled entrance hall.
It was the end of a long, busy afternoon at the end of a long, busy week – the first week back after the autumn half-term holiday – at London’s world-famous Garrick School of the Performing Arts. And in just a few minutes Cat would be setting off to audition for a part in the end-of-term production of Macbeth.
And not just for any old part . . .
It was for the part of Lady Macbeth!
How brilliant was that? Cat marvelled for the millionth time. Only one of the best-known characters in a Shakespeare play – in fact, any play in the western world. Admittedly, not the nicest lady you could wish to meet – in fact, Lady Macbeth made the Wicked Witch of the West look like Snow White – but an actress’s dream! First she bullies her husband into murdering the King so he can take the crown; then she places the blood-soaked dagger in the hands of the sleeping guards so it looks as if they did it.
What an amazing character!
Cat had never dared to hope that she might be up for a leading role in her very first term at Superstar High – as the Garrick was usually known. As a brand-new Year Eight student, she’d originally tried out for a smaller part as Second Witch – but the directors had called her back for The Big One.
What an amazing chance!
This was no ordinary production. The Garrick staged a variety of spectacular dance shows, concerts and plays throughout the year, and their annual Shakespeare production was renowned in the theatre world as a major showcase for upcoming talent. London’s top casting agents and theatre reviewers were always invited, and could be spotted in the audience, on the lookout for the stage stars of the future.
And being a serious actress was all Cat had ever dreamed of. Playing Lady Macbeth could be the launch pad that would rocket her into the stratosphere, warp-speeding her on her way to leading roles at the Globe and with the Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford . . .
Back down to earth! Cat warned herself. She had to get the part of Lady Macbeth first! And right now she needed a moment to catch her breath after the high-energy salsa marathon – otherwise known as advanced Latin dance class with Miss LeClair – that she and Holly had just completed. Holly was still wearing sweats over her leotard, her braids tucked under a wide hairband and her flawless brown skin still glowing with exertion. But Cat had sprinted up to her room for a high-speed change into a slinky black dress and killer heels. She just couldn’t see Lady Macbeth in a tracksuit, somehow.
‘Don’t let me get too comfortable!’ Cat sighed, sinking back into the cushions and closing her eyes.
‘Well, good luck,’ Belle said, elbowing her in the ribs.
‘Oof, what was that for?’ Cat gasped.
Belle grinned. ‘Getting too comfortable. You were practically snoring!’ She looked effortlessly stylish as usual, in designer jeans and a simple but perfectly cut white T-shirt, her long blonde hair swept up in a loose knot. She’d spent her Friday afternoon in an advanced singing class rather than Latin dance – the flamboyant mambo and cha-cha-cha moves were not really Belle’s cool, calm and collected style.
‘I was clearing my mind, getting into character!’ Cat countered.
Holly laughed. ‘Not too much, I hope! Sharing sofa-space with a dagger-wielding psycho-lady? No, thank you!’
Cat looked up to see her good friend Nathan Almeida hurrying across the hall towards them.
‘Cat, come quickly! We mustn’t be late for the auditions!’ he urged, sweeping his long black fringe off his forehead and adjusting his wire-framed glasses.
Nathan was followed, at a more leisurely saunter, by Nick Taggart – who grinned and threw his stocky frame down into the narrow gap in the middle of the sofa, bouncing Cat, Belle and Holly up into the air.
‘Chill, Nate!’ Cat told him as she landed back on the sofa. ‘We’ve got two whole minutes!’ Inside, her heart was pounding and her stomach was doing a Mexican wave, but she knew that the best way to deal with her nerves was to act laid-back and unruffled. If she could convince everyone else she was super-calm, she could sometimes even fool herself.
Nathan hovered uncertainly. He was a gifted actor, but offstage he was terminally shy. He was getting better, though – at least now he could actually speak out loud in public, which was a major breakthrough. He’d also struck up a friendship with Nick Taggart – a boy who didn’t know the meaning of the word shy. Or the words serious . . . or sensible or solemn . . . Maybe I should buy him a dictionary for Christmas! Cat thought.
Noticing Nathan checking his watch again, she attempted to wriggle free from her position, jammed between Nick and Holly on the sofa.
‘So, Nick, you’re Scottish – didn’t you want to audition for Macbeth?’ Holly asked. ‘After all, it is called The Scottish Play.’
‘Och, no, ma wee lassie,’ Nick replied, in an over-the-top Highlands accent. ‘Far too much doom and gloom for me! Anyway,’ he continued, ‘I’m working on the sound desk. I’ve got this wicked sound-effect for when the dagger goes in under King Duncan’s ribs – a sort of scraping, squelching—’
Belle laughed, holding up her hands. ‘Eugh! Enough squelching already!’ She was also trying to escape from the sofa, but was wedged firmly against the arm on the other side of Nick.
Cat smiled. Belle liked Nick a whole lot more now than she had at the start of the year – which wouldn’t be difficult, since her first words on the subject of Nick Taggart had been: What a dork! – but she still didn’t always get his non-stop comedy act. And she probably wasn’t enjoying being pinned to the furniture by his left elbow much either.
Unable to wait any longer, Nathan grabbed Cat by the hand and tugged. She popped up from the sofa like a cork from a bottle.
Now that the all-important audition was getting closer and closer, she was so nervous her legs felt as if they’d been replaced by overcooked spaghetti – her knees almost buckled under her as she stood up. But she wasn’t going to let anyone see. She disguised the wobble by pretending to check her tights for ladders.
Holly and Belle jumped up, hugged Cat and wished her luck. ‘We’ll follow you over to the Redgrave Theatre in a minute,’ Belle said. ‘It’s great they’re doing open auditions for the main parts. We can come and cheer you guys on.’
‘Not literally, I hope!’ Cat laughed, noticing Nathan’s worried look. ‘No yelling, Go for it, Natey-boy! as he comes on stage to do his Macduff speech, you two!’
‘Spoilsport!’ Holly replied, then turned to Nathan and hugged him too – so quickly he had no chance to sidestep the unexpected physical contact. He grinned shyly.
‘I just hope you guys know what you’re letting yourselves in for if you get these parts,’ Nick said. ‘There’s only six weeks from audition to performance. It’s going to be Biiii-Zeeee – with a capital B . . . and a capital Zee!’
But Cat wasn’t worried about the mountain of hard work ahead of her. This was Superstar High after all. And no one ever said being a superstar was easy! With a jaunty wave she turned and followed Nathan across the hall.
‘Don’t panic!’ she told Nick over her shoulder. ‘I’ve got it all totally under control.’
CHAPTER TWO
Holly: Icing on the Cake of Happiness
‘I REALLY HOPE Cat’s right!’ Holly sighed as Cat left.
‘Aha! That’s just what Lady Macbeth said,’ Nick intoned in a mysterious Lord-of-the-Rings-prophecy kind of voice.
‘What?’ Belle scoffed. ‘Lady Macbeth said, I really hope Cat’s right? I don’t remember that line!’
‘Not that!’ Nick laughed, batting her on the head with a cushion. ‘The don’t panic, I’ve got it all totally under control bit – Lady M said it when she was persuading Macbeth to stick the knife in. Or words to that effect, anyway! And look where it got her . . .’ He mimed a throat-slitting action.
‘Well, Cat’s not exactly planning to murder anyone,’ Belle said impatiently.
‘No, but she’s taking advanced drama,’ Holly said, ‘and advanced Latin dance. Plus, touch wood, she’ll have the leading role in the play – there’ll be hundreds of rehearsals.’
‘And her school work, of course, and band practice,’ Nick added. Holly, Belle and Cat had formed a girl group, Nobody’s Angels, shortly after arriving at Superstar High and had won a Highly Commended in the talent competition before half-term. Somehow, Nick had appointed himself as their unofficial band manager!
‘Yeah – and time-management isn’t exactly Cat’s strong point,’ Belle said.
That’s true, Holly thought. Cat was always over-sleeping, putting things off to the last minute, and missing deadlines. It was part of what made Cat so lovably . . . well, Cat!
It hadn’t been too disastrous so far, apart from a few near-miss detention situations in Mrs Salmon’s science class. But things were going to get much tougher from now on.
For the first half-term all the new students had attended the same lessons: school subjects in the mornings, then core singing, dancing and acting classes in the afternoons. But now they’d been placed into their ability-sets for school subjects, and, on top of the core performance classes on Monday to Wednesday afternoons – which everyone still had to do – they were all taking specialist options, known as advanced classes, on Thursday and Friday afternoons.
Dance was Holly’s passion, and she was taking the advanced dance classes, which covered ballet, modern, jazz, tap and Latin. But although she had a good voice and loved singing in Nobody’s Angels, she hadn’t got into advanced singing yet; the standard was incredibly high. At least she was able to do an advanced musical theatre class, which included singing and which she loved – her dream was to star in West End and Broadway shows.
Belle was the musical one with the fabulous voice. She was in all the advanced singing classes and took piano and music theory lessons, and she was in the top set for every school subject! Belle’s half-term report had been a glittering galaxy of A-stars. It wasn’t just because she was smart, hard-working and organized; there was also the minor incentive that her dad had threatened to pull her out of the Garrick and send her to a ‘normal’ school if she didn’t get perfect grades.
They were all going to be busy, but Holly knew that Cat would have to switch into high-octane turbo-drive if she was going to keep up with all her commitments.
‘See you at the Redgrave in a few minutes!’ Nick declared, leaping up from the sofa. ‘I’m going to call for Zak on the way.’
Holly looked around contentedly as he disappeared through the back door into the courtyard. The entrance hall was a favourite meeting place. It was bustling with staff and students hurrying from classes to after-school activities, checking their pigeon holes for messages, or just stopping to chat with friends. Holly still couldn’t believe that she was actually part of Superstar High.
It was the kind of place where anything could happen . . .
And usually did!
In fact, Holly thought, she was officially the luckiest girl in the world.
Great school, great friends – she even had a great room-mate, ever since Bianca ‘Furious Girl’ Hayford had thrown a strop and demanded she move out of their room and swap with Lettie Atkins.
Holly’s new room-mate, Gemma Dalrymple, was a down-to-earth Australian girl who was almost as crazy about dancing as Holly was – and, most importantly, didn’t go into nuclear meltdown if Holly stepped onto her side of the room.
Oh, and then, of course, ever since the gala showcase party just before half-term, she’d also had a great boyfriend!
Holly found her thoughts drifting. She was re-living the moment – the scent of roses, the sound of party poppers, Ethan’s sea-green eyes . . . her first kiss. Holly’s thoughts did a lot of drifting these days. She had to keep reminding herself that she hadn’t dreamed the whole thing – that Ethan Cool-and-popular-captain-of-the-football-team-and-all-round-Year-Ten-superstar Reed was her real, live boyfriend! He was the icing on Holly’s Cake of Happiness: thick, double-chocolate-fudge icing . . .
. . . with rainbow sprinkles on top!
‘Ooh, sorry – what?’ Holly asked, snapping herself back to reality.
Belle twitched her perfect eyebrows in a knowing smile. ‘I was talking about Cat,’ she said. ‘It was lovely staying at her house for half-term, but her mum was on at her nonstop to try out for big West End musicals. She says it’s the only way to break into the big time.’
‘But how’s Cat going to find time to trek round to professional auditions?’ Holly asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Belle sighed. ‘She’s going to be swamped. That’s why I’m only going for a minor part in Macbeth. I want time to have a life!’
‘And Cat doesn’t even want to do musical theatre.’ Holly shook her head. She knew Cat’s dream was to be a classical actress – performing in Shakespearean tragedies and ultra-serious award-winning plays. ‘Definitely not The Lion King or The Sound of Music – I can’t see Cat skipping around singing about whiskers on kittens and apple strudel . . .’ she added. ‘Shame, I love that song!’
‘Me too,’ Belle replied, grinning. Next moment they were singing harmonies on My Favourite Things.
Holly heard voices and turned to look over the back of the sofa. She stopped mid-note as she noticed an unfamiliar tall boy with shoulder-length brown hair slouching against the school secretary’s desk on the other side of the hall. ‘Hey, who’s that?’ she whispered.
Belle’s beautiful singing voice trailed away and she joined Holly in spying over the back of the sofa as Miss Candlemas, the housemistress, hurried into the room, swathed in her multi-coloured scarves, beads and bangles.
Mrs Butterworth, the secretary, scooted out from behind her desk on her trusty swivel chair. ‘Ah, there you are!’ she grumbled, peering at Miss Candlemas over the gold frames of her glasses. ‘Better late than never!’
Ignoring Mrs Butterworth’s comment, Miss Candlemas beamed at the mystery boy. ‘All aboard for the grand tour! Jump to it!’
The boy grinned, stood up straight and saluted cheekily.
‘The entrance hall lies at the heart of the original seventeenth-century building,’ Miss Candlemas recited as they crossed towards the dining room.
‘ . . . which served as the grand ballroom in Regency times . . .’ Holly and Belle exchanged grins as they whispered the words in chorus. The speech was identical to the one Miss Candlemas had given when she showed them round the school at the beginning of September!
Holly laughed. ‘Do you remember Nick Taggart doing his tour-guide act?’
‘Yeah, it would be hard to forget!’ Belle groaned.
‘And how . . .’ Holly’s voice faded away as she realized that Belle was no longer listening. Her lavender-blue eyes had zoomed in towards the dining-room door.
Belle was gawping at the boy!
Holly hadn’t realized that she was physically capable of doing anything as uncool as gawping, but that was the only word for the transfixed expression on her face. Holly looked at the boy more carefully.
His light brown hair was slightly dishevelled – but in a good I’m-too-cool-to-fuss-with-my-hair kind of way. He shook it back now and then to reveal hazel eyes and high, angular cheekbones. Not that Holly noticed such things, of course, now that she had a boyfriend. There was something pirate-like, something of the Johnny-Depp-as-Captain-Jack-Sparrow in his swagger and the rebellious glint in his eyes.
‘Maybe he’s thinking of applying here for next year,’ Holly whispered. ‘Not that you’d be interested or anything!’ she added, grinning.
But Belle hadn’t heard – or hadn’t yet regained the power of speech. Holly couldn’t be sure which.
It was time to set off to watch the auditions, and Holly and Belle followed the tour party out into the courtyard. Pirate Boy held the door open for them. He seemed to catch Belle’s eye and stare at her for a brief moment before hurrying after Miss Candlemas and her call of ‘No shilly-shallying now!’
Holly could hardly believe her eyes: Belle’s perfect complexion – usually cream with a hint of peach – was slowly turning to raspberry with a hint of beetroot.
Belle was blushing!
But Belle didn’t do blushing! Holly couldn’t have been more surprised if her friend had started wearing jumble-sale dungarees and granny-knitted Bob the Builder tank tops. Gawping and blushing? Belle would be thrown out of the International Cool-as-a-Polar-Bear-with-Frostbite Club if she wasn’t careful.
CHAPTER THREE
Belle: X-Ray Vision and Thought Waves
THE MACBETH AUDITIONS were about to start.
Belle followed Holly into the Redgrave – Superstar High’s beautiful theatre – and settled down in a red velvet seat. There was a buzz of expectant chatter among the audience of students who’d come along to support their friends. Belle couldn’t wait to hear Cat’s Lady Macbeth speech; she’d helped her practise all through the half-term holiday and knew that it was going to be something very special.
The warm, wood-polish-and-dust scent of the theatre sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through Belle’s veins. The last time she’d been here, she’d been on stage, singing in the talent show with Holly and Cat in Nobody’s Angels. It had been an awesome experience, but she vividly remembered that split-second of blind terror when she’d spotted the famous vocal coach, Larry Shapiro, sitting with the other judges in the front row. Belle’s ambition in life was to be an internationally acclaimed singer – the next Mariah Carey or Leona Lewis. She’d never have forgiven herself if she’d stuffed up in front of such an illustrious judge in her very first term at Superstar High – and she had almost crumpled under the pressure! But luckily it had all gone fabulously well, and Larry Shapiro had even complimented her afterwards on her vocal technique.
But today the judges’ seats were occupied by the casting panel, huddled importantly over their clipboards. Belle recognized Mr Grampian, the head of Drama. Next to him sat the play’s assistant director, Duncan Gillespie, a Year Ten boy with thick dark hair, stiffly ridged like chocolate frosting, and then the director, a thin, wiry man who looked like a long-distance runner. Belle recognized him as Mr Simon Sharpe, the Garrick’s Shakespeare expert.
She took a deep breath, letting the adrenaline ebb away. She was so relieved she wasn’t auditioning today. The auditions for the minor parts – like the Messenger role Belle hoped for – would be taking place tomorrow.
‘And the award for best actress . . . goes to . . . Catrin Wickham . . .’ a dramatic Hollywood-celebrity voice boomed behind her.
Belle turned round. No surprise – it was Nick Taggart chortling with his friends Zak Lomax, Frankie Pellegrini and Mason Lee as they bundled into their seats.
‘Shh!’ Mr Sharpe hissed. ‘Quiet, please!’ He glared in the direction of the disturbance, his small frameless glasses flashing like cats’ eyes as they caught the light.
Belle cringed, but at that moment Lettie Atkins tiptoed in. She waved to Belle and Holly before sitting down next to Nick and engaging him in an intense conversation about sound-editing. Lettie, a softly spoken girl with long chestnut hair and serious brown eyes, was a super-talented musician, and was working on the musical arrangement for the play. ‘We could fade in that creepy clarinet solo whenever the Three Witches appear,’ she whispered, and – for once – Nick didn’t answer with a wisecrack, but nodded thoughtfully.
‘The commencement of auditions is imminent,’ Mr Grampian announced.
Belle and Holly turned to each other and grinned. Mr Grampian always spoke like that. ‘Why use one short word when ten long ones will do?’ Holly whispered.
‘Ethan Reed for the part of Banquo!’ Duncan Gillespie announced.
It’s so sweet how Holly’s ears glow whenever Ethan’s name is mentioned, Belle thought. Luckily it’s not as noticeable with her lovely caramel skin as it would be for me.
Not that Belle made a habit of blushing, of course.
But then an uncomfortable image suddenly popped into her mind. That boy in the hall . . . She’d felt her face burning then. It was the way he’d looked at her! As if he had x-ray vision and could read her innermost thoughts – the really deep-down ones she wasn’t quite sure of herself.
And – this was ridiculous! – she could actually feel her face flushing and her stomach fluttering just at the memory of it. She wasn’t sure whether she liked the feeling or hated it, but she was sure of one thing: she’d never felt like this before.
Anyway, she wasn’t going to waste any more time thinking about some random boy who’d given her a funny look. She’d probably never see him again anyway.
‘Nathan Almeida for the part of Macduff!’ Mr Sharpe shouted.
Belle realized she’d missed Ethan’s entire speech, but from the way Holly was smiling, it had obviously gone well.
She watched intently as Nathan gave a stellar performance as Macduff, reading the speech where he finds out that Macbeth has slain his entire family. He was so convincing, Belle sniffed back a tear as she joined in the round of enthusiastic applause.
‘Bianca Hayford for Hecate, Goddess of the Witches!’ Duncan called, flipping pages on his clipboard.
‘Perfect casting!’ Belle heard Nick chuckle behind her. ‘Bianca as Queen Witch – she won’t even have to try!’
Holly giggled and Belle couldn’t help grinning. She’d first crossed swords with Bianca before they’d even got through the front door of Superstar High, in a heated exchange over their matching Louis Vuitton luggage collections.
And things had basically gone downhill ever since. Bianca seemed to have made it her Mission In Life to score points off Belle at every possible opportunity. Belle did her best to rise above it, but there was only so much rising a girl could do . . .
However she had to admit that Bianca’s audition was excellent. She was wearing a white dress (from the new Versace winter collection, Belle noticed – Bianca must have been out spending her allowance over half-term; the Hayfords were a very wealthy family who’d made millions from their baby-food business, as Bianca was very keen to tell everyone – the millions part, that is, not the baby-food part). With her pale blonde hair pulled back from her face, she looked as cold and sinister as the Narnia Snow Queen – without the Turkish Delight.
‘Two-minute break, then Catrin Wickham for the part of Lady M,’ Duncan announced.
‘Finally . . .’ Belle breathed, grabbing Holly’s hand in excitement.
‘Did you notice he said Lady M?’ Nick ‘whispered’ at high-decibel shouting volume in Belle’s ear. ‘It’s bad luck to say the name in a theatre.’
‘What name?’ Belle asked.
‘Well, duh! I’m not going to say it, am I?’ Nick laughed. ‘The name of this play . . .’
‘What? You mean Mac—’ Belle started, but he leaned forward and clamped his hand over her mouth.
‘It’s supposed to be like a curse or something!’ Holly explained.
‘Wicked!’ Zak exclaimed.
‘Oomph!’ Belle muttered from behind Nick’s sweaty palm.
There was another round of glowering and shushing from the casting panel.