Читать книгу Tilly's Time to Shine - Kimberly Wyatt - Страница 9

The next morning Tilly woke bright and early. She hopped out of bed, being careful not to wake Naomi, who was still burrowed under her duvet, fast asleep, and unrolled her yoga mat on the floor. Tilly liked to stretch and breathe first thing in the morning, checking in with her body, figuring out which muscles needed attention and filling her lungs with new air. The rhythm of her breath, and connecting it to a stretch, was the best way to get rid of any sad cobwebs and start fresh. After dancing with Andre her left hamstring felt a little tight, so she soothed it with some gentle downward-dog stretches, sending her breath to the sore parts of her body and feeling the tension gently release. Then she showered and took her make-up bag down from the shelf. She decided to go for a bright green cat-eye this morning, to celebrate the first day of the new term – or F Dot as Andre called it! She wondered why Andre had been so stressed when he’d first come to see her. She hated thinking of him having a tough time over Christmas, it made her feel really angry. She always got like this when someone she loved was hurting – she was as fierce and protective as a lioness with her cub.

Naomi stretched an arm out of the duvet. ‘What time is it?’ she murmured sleepily.

‘Almost time for breakfast,’ Tilly replied happily. That was another thing she was glad to be back at WEDA for – the amazing food. The chefs in their canteen had a magical ability of making even the healthiest of foods taste delicious.

‘Drat!’ Naomi muttered and burrowed back beneath her duvet. Naomi loved saying ‘drat’. She thought it made her sound distinguished.

‘Come on, you know you want one of those yummy coconut flour pancakes,’ Tilly said. ‘Just think of it, with some fresh, juicy blueberries on top. And a dollop of mascarpone – so creamy and delicious and –’

‘All right, all right, I’m getting up!’ Naomi flung back her duvet. Her dark hair was flattened on one side where she’d been sleeping. ‘I hate these early morning starts,’ she moaned as she shuffled off to their shared bathroom.

Tilly grinned. The only good thing about having a rubbish Christmas break was that it made her so happy to be back at WEDA she didn’t even mind getting up early. ‘I’ll see you in the canteen!’ she called after Naomi. She couldn’t wait any longer, she wanted to see the rest of Il Bello.

The canteen was buzzing with chatter as the other boarders all clustered around tables, catching up on each other’s holidays. Tilly spotted a tall, thin boy in a fedora hat standing at the juice bar.

‘MJ!’ she called as she ran over, fighting the urge to hug him. MJ was autistic and wasn’t a great fan of being touched, or of displays of affection. Like Tilly, he expressed himself best through dance.

MJ turned and gave her a tight smile. ‘Hey, Tilly. How are you?’

‘Great, thanks. So happy to be back here.’

MJ nodded. ‘Me too.’

‘Are any of the rest of the crew here?’ Tilly turned and scanned the canteen.

‘Andre’s still in our room trying to get his hair symmetrical – whatever that means – but Raf’s over there.’ MJ nodded to a table in the corner.

Tilly grinned as she saw Raf looking more tanned and handsome than ever . . . then frowned as she saw Cassandra sitting next to him, giggling and swishing her hair.

‘What’s he doing with the ice queen?’ she asked.

MJ looked at her blankly. He didn’t get metaphors.

‘Cassandra. Why is he sitting with Cassandra?’

MJ shrugged. He hadn’t got into any of the tension that had built up between Tilly, Billie and Cassandra last term. He tended to stay on the sidelines – until it came time to dance. ‘Billie’s just arrived,’ he said nonchalantly, before turning back to the juice bar.

‘What? Where?’ Tilly looked around and spotted Billie by the doorway to the canteen. Her blond hair was tucked up inside a blue beanie and she was carrying a sports bag over her shoulder. As a non-boarder, Billie had to make a two-hour train journey to get to WEDA every day. She must have set off extra early this morning to make it in time for breakfast.

‘Bill!’ Tilly yelled, racing over to her.

Billie dropped her bag to the floor and ran to meet her. ‘Tillz! It’s so good to see you!’ she exclaimed as the two girls hugged. ‘How was your Christmas?’

‘OK. How was yours?’

‘It was great.’ Billie’s eyes sparkled and she grinned excitedly. ‘My Uncle Charlie came to stay and my mum’s new boyfriend Tony took us to see the fireworks on the Thames on New Year’s Eve. It was so much fun!’

Tilly felt a bittersweet mixture of happiness for her friend and regret that she didn’t have such a fun Christmas break herself. Why did her mum have to be so serious the whole time? They’d spent New Year’s Eve doing a family quiz which, as far as Tilly was concerned, was just one small step away from doing an exam.

‘I’m so glad to be back, though,’ Billie continued, linking her arm through Tilly’s. ‘I really missed you.’

‘Me too,’ Tilly replied. She took off her backpack and pulled out a present. ‘Here, I made you something while I was home.’

Billie stared at her, puzzled. ‘But I thought we exchanged gifts before we broke up?’

‘We did.’ Tilly grinned. ‘This isn’t a Christmas present.’

‘What is it then?’

‘It’s a thank-you-for-being-the-best-friend-ever present.’

‘Oh, Tillz!’

Tilly watched nervously as Billie opened the wrapping paper and pulled out a black T-shirt. Tilly had printed the word BILLERINA in hot-pink graffiti lettering on the front.

Billie’s mouth dropped open in surprise. ‘That’s what my Uncle Charlie calls me! How did you know?’

‘I heard him call you it after the end-of-term showcase.’

Billie grabbed her in a hug. ‘Tillz, this is one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given.’

‘Really?’

Billie nodded. ‘You’re the most caring, thoughtful friend ever.’

Tilly gave an embarrassed grin. ‘Yeah well, don’t tell anyone. I have my reputation to protect, you know. Come on, let’s get some pancakes.’

After breakfast, the students all filed through to the main hall for Mrs Jones’s traditional start-of-term speech. Along with Mr Marlo and Miss Murphy, Mrs Jones was Tilly’s main source of inspiration at WEDA. She’d been one of the founders of the academy and had taught Miss Murphy, who often credited Mrs Jones with her success. Tilly felt a flutter of excitement as she thought of how lucky she was to be there. Her mum might be dismissive of dance but Mrs Jones, Miss Murphy and all the other teachers at WEDA were proof of how successful dancers could be. Tilly needed to hold on to that thought and use it to keep her strong.

Andre, who hadn’t shown up for breakfast, came rushing into the hall and plonked himself down in the seat next to Tilly. His F Dot look had clearly taken a lot of effort, but it had definitely been worth it. He was wearing a bright red vest top and black cargo pants and he’d shaved two perfectly symmetrical skulls on either side of his head, which went brilliantly with his green skull and cross-bones bandana.

‘You look amazing,’ Tilly whispered. ‘With your green bandana and my green cat-eyes, we make the ultimate superhero duo.’

‘I know,’ Andre replied. ‘I think this might just be our FFM.’

‘What does that mean?’ Billie asked from the other side of Tilly.

‘Finest Fashion Moment, of course,’ Andre said with a sigh.

Tilly laughed. If anyone else said such a thing they’d seem arrogant, but Andre was so funny he got away with it.

‘Ooh, here we go,’ Andre said, as Mrs Jones, Mr Marlo and Miss Murphy came in.

The students fell silent as the teachers walked to the front of the hall. Miss Murphy and Mr Marlo sat down and Mrs Jones went up on to the stage. She was wearing one of her trademark long dresses, in a deep plum colour, and her white hair had been cut into a graduated bob. It really suited her heart-shaped face. Tilly hoped she looked half as cool as Mrs Jones when she was that age.

‘Good morning, everyone,’ Mrs Jones said with a smile. ‘And welcome back. I hope you all had wonderful Christmases . . . but now the party’s over and the hard work begins.’

A few of the students gave mock groans but Tilly felt like cheering. She couldn’t wait to get back in the studio.

‘At the end of last term some of you were involved in a showcase at the Royal Albert Hall.’

Tilly and the rest of Il Bello looked at each other and grinned.

‘I’m proud to say that you were an absolute credit to WEDA and gave it your all, but this term, we’re going to be asking you to give even more than your all.’ Mrs Jones looked around, her expression now deadly serious. ‘I’m going to hand over to my colleagues Miss Murphy and Mr Marlo and they will explain.’

‘What’s up, WEDA?’ Mr Marlo boomed. ‘How you all doing?’

The students yelled back at him.

‘I hope you all had a cool Christmas,’ Miss Murphy said. As usual, she looked immaculate, in a long grey pencil skirt, crisp white blouse and sky-high heels.

Andre groaned. ‘I keep telling her not to say cool,’ he muttered. ‘It’s so uncool.’

Tilly laughed. As far as she was concerned, Andre had the coolest mum in the world – she’d give anything to have a mum as passionate about dance as Miss Murphy – but she guessed that, no matter who your parents were, you were embarrassed by them.

Mr Marlo dug his hands into his tracksuit pockets. ‘As Mrs Jones just said, this term we’re going to be asking even more of you than we did before.’

‘We’re going to be asking you to dig deeper than ever,’ Miss Murphy said.

‘And dance like the world’s depending on you . . .’ Mr Marlo paused for a moment, ‘. . . because in a way, it is.’

‘Here at WEDA we need to become more energy efficient,’ Miss Murphy said. ‘And as part of that initiative, we need to install solar panels to the studio roofs.’

‘But solar panels cost money . . .’ Mr Marlo said.

‘A lot of money . . .’

‘So that’s where you guys come in.’

Miss Murphy stepped closer to the edge of the stage. ‘This term, we’re going to be having an investor showcase to try to raise more funds for WEDA, so that we can pay for the refurbishments we badly need so that we can continue to run in line with our healthy and sustainable ethos.’

‘And fund some more bursaries so that more dancers are able to enjoy the opportunities WEDA offers, whatever their background,’ Mr Marlo added.

Tilly looked at Billie and grinned. Billie wouldn’t have been able to come to WEDA if it weren’t for the bursary system.

‘So, what do you say?’ Mr Marlo boomed. ‘Do we have your commitment?’

‘Are you willing to go that extra mile?’ Miss Murphy asked, looking out at the students.

A few claps and whoops rippled around the hall.

‘I can’t hear you,’ Mr Marlo said, cupping his ear.

This time loud cheers rang out.

‘Bravo! That’s more like it.’ Mr Marlo smiled. ‘Seriously, guys, this is your opportunity to give something back. Not just to WEDA but to the environment and to students less fortunate than you.’

‘I personally can’t think of a better motivation to dance,’ Miss Murphy said.

‘Me neither.’ Mr Marlo nodded in agreement. ‘And on that note . . . what do you say we have a welcome back West African drumming session? I’ve got some friends warming up the Djembe in the Murphy Studio as we speak.’

The students burst into applause.

‘All right!’ Mr Marlo yelled. ‘Let’s dance!’

As Tilly entered the Murphy Studio, every cell in her body tingled. Now she truly was back at home. As the students all found a place on the floor, a group of drummers in the corner of the studio started pounding out a rhythm on the Djembe. Tilly closed her eyes and let it reverberate through her body. She loved African dance. She loved that it was so raw, and the way it made you feel part of a team, a family. And she was part of a tribe – the WEDA tribe. She could feel the energy from the other students seeping into her as they began to dance. She allowed herself to sink deeper into the rhythm, letting herself go until there was no boundary left between her and the music. It was as if her body had become an extension of the drum, and she felt lit up with happiness. This was where she belonged – on a dance floor, expressing herself with her body. With every pound of the drum she felt an even stronger connection with her warrior within, and more determined than ever. This term she was going to dance as if the world depended on it, because it did. Her world depended on her staying at WEDA.