Читать книгу Best Day of My Life: True stories to inspire, move and entertain - Told by a cross-section of the UK's celebrities and courageous everyday people - Giles Vickers Jones - Страница 19

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Getting into the Royal Ballet School has to be up there as the best day of my life.

I had decided not to go when I was 11 because I would have had to board and I wanted to stay at home with my parents and friends. I decided emphatically that I would go when I was 16. Being awarded a place was apparently not going to be a problem, even though 30 places are contested each year by thousands of young hopefuls and I still think that my unquestioningly pure self-belief and determination played a huge part in getting me in there.

In my diary on 16 April 1989, I wrote: ‘I GOT IN!!! No one is more surprised than me! So this is how it went: orthopaedic first, then an academic interview. Then ballet class. All the others were prodigies with legs by their ears and I just wanted to cry (but I didn’t). Then a rep class, then a character class, then after weeding out a few, the remaining 15 had to do another pointe class – it was agony such as I’ve never known! But I survived. Then we were stretched (oh dear! My extension!). Then we had interviews. By this time I had gathered I’d probably got in …’

I don’t actually remember that much of the process itself and I’m really thankful that I have kept a diary since I was 11 as I can remind myself of these incredible memories just by digging a box out from under my bed.

The reason that getting into the Royal Ballet School remains the best day of my life is that it was an incredible twist of fate that started a chain of events that lead directly to the place I am now. A place I love, surrounded by people I love. I honestly wouldn’t change a thing. Good or bad.

I attended Royal for a year before being asked to leave because technically I wasn’t quite up to the standard they wanted: never mind about how much passion I had when I danced, it’s all about technique. My heart broke that day. They say that for every Yin there is a Yang; I agree: if getting into the darn place was my best day, then getting kicked out was by far the worst …

My wise daddy said to me when I was asked to leave, ‘As one door closes, another one opens.’ He was so right (he often is!). I left Royal and went to Arts Educational Schools in Chiswick, another dance school. There, we were fully encouraged to be passionate about our art; we obsessed about our physical ability less and danced truly from the heart much more. If getting into Royal was the happiest day of my life. Then my two years at Arts were my happiest years.

But back to before that. I’m looking through all the letters and poems my friends wrote me as I got ready to fly the nest for Royal and I’m actually a little choked up. I’d like to share some of them with you. This is a snippet of a poem written by my best friend Joe (still my best friend today!):

‘You’ve now got the key

To open all those doors

Now you will see

The dreams you had before

Stardom is nearing

Fame is at your feet

All the top professionals

With those you must compete

We’ll miss you, don’t ever doubt that

And I’m sure you’ll miss us too

But you know that everything you want

Is waiting there for you.’

We always were a ridiculously soppy and sentimental bunch … Still are!

Anyway, back to that fateful day.

I was 16. The only things that really mattered to a 16-year-old in 1989 were boys, drinking, smoking and hanging out on the meadows with your friends. I mention this only because I’m going to refer back to my diary for the rest of that day:

‘Saturday night was wonderful – I can cope with all this attention – it’s like a drug: once you’ve tasted a little, you hunger for more and more. First I went to the Scotgate – no one there. Then I went to the Raj: Sal, Katie, Joe, Miranda, Bek Bisset and Nel were there. I said “I got in” and they gave an almighty squeal! If I could immortalise any moment of my life it would have to be that one. Then we all left to go and meet the boys on the meadows: I got a round of “for she’s a jolly good fellow”, it was wonderful …

Anyway, life is looking up, except that I’m SHIT SCARED about leaving. I suppose we all have to leave sometime, I just wish it could stay this way forever …’

From the mouths of babes, eh?

So, that was the best day of my life. It’s been really lovely to remember it and all its finer detail. I love that I took myself so very seriously back then, everything was very dramatic and any event could be soundtracked by a soft rock ballad (well, it was the 80s!). So, I will leave the last word to one final diary entry and the insightful lyrics of one Mr Jon Bon Jovi:

‘OH PLEASE GOD LET EVERYTHING WORK OUT. I don’t want to leave home anyway but I have to realise that I will never be famous if I carry on living at home, I’ve just got to “Stick To My Guns” …’

‘So you wanna be a cowboy

Well you know it’s more than just a ride,

Cos you gotta know the real thing,

If you’re gonna know the other side,

Ain’t nobody riding shotgun,

In the world tonight,

And when you spit you better mean it,

You better make ’em all believe it,

If you’re gonna be the one …’