Louisa the Ballerina Read online

  “They aren’t whiskers,” Tony said. “That’s my mouse-tache. Ha ha!”

  “That’s a really pathetic joke, Tony,” I said, but I giggled as well.

  Phoebe ran over to me from the other side of the room. “Weezer! You’re here! Hello, everyone!”

  “You were lovely,” I said. “You really, really were. And you looked great in my dress.”

  “It isn’t your dress. It’s our dress. You can have it another time.”

  “Yes,” I said, “and we can both be famous at the same time. Mrs Posnansky explained to me that there are different kinds of dancers. She said we were like quicksilver and silk.”

  “Like Darcey Bussell and Viviana Durante.”

  “Exactly,” I said. “We can do different parts. I’ll do Coppélia.”

  “I’ll do Giselle,” Phoebe said.

  “What about Swan Lake? I said. “I want to do that.”

  “So do I,” said Phoebe. “Maybe we can take turns to do Odette and Odile. Louisa and Phoebe . . . Phoebe and Louisa. Doesn’t that sound great, Weezer?”

  “Yes, Pheezer. I think it sounds terrific.”

  “Pheezer?” Phoebe said. “What’s that when it’s at home?”

  “It’s your new affection-whatsit . . . dim-something.”

  Pheezer giggled. “I like it. Pheezer and Weezer.”

  “No,” I said. “You’ve got it the wrong way round. Weezer and Pheezer.”

  Louisa in the Wings

  For June and John Crebbin

  Chapter One

  MUM SAID, “LOUISA Blair, I just despair!” and I said, “You’re a poet and you don’t know it!”

  “Annie,” Mum turned to me, “you’re not exactly helping. I thought you might have tried to explain to Weezer why it is I can’t do what she wants me to do.”

  “Louisa,” said Weezer. “I keep telling you to call me that and you never do, so I don’t see why I should listen to what you’re trying to tell me.”

  “I did call you Louisa.” Mum was beginning to sound harassed. “If you remember, I said it a couple of seconds ago. I even, according to Annie, turned it into a poem, so a little less of your nagging would be greatly appreciated.”

  “I’m not nagging,” said Weezer, but of course she was. Nagging is as natural to my little sister as breathing. She has just turned eight, and seems to be getting better and better at it. I know her very well so I could imagine exactly what she was thinking. It must have been something like, “Well, being cross hasn’t got me my way, so I’ll try being sweet and see what Mum says,” because suddenly her face was all smiley and her voice wasn’t a bit whiney.

  She said, “Mum, please explain why I can’t go to the ballet. I promise I won’t ask you again, but I just want to remind you that this will be a really wonderful chance to see almost my very favourite ballet, Coppélia, and it’s danced by a company that comes all the way from St Petersburg. That’s in Russia, and Russians are top champion dancers. That’s what Mrs Posnansky told me, so it must be true.”

  Mum sat down next to Weezer and spoke gently. “I know all this, Louisa. Mrs Posnansky is quite right, and it is a wonderful company. I’ve never said you can’t go. All I’ve said is, I cannot afford twenty pounds for each ticket. I couldn’t let you go alone, so Annie would have to go with you, and that’s forty pounds. I just can’t manage it at such short notice.”

  “Why not?”

  “Lots of reasons.” Mum began to tick them off on her fingers. “Firstly, I’ve just paid the deposit on our summer holidays. Secondly, you’re going to ballet classes twice a week now, as you wanted. Thirdly, Annie needs a whole new school uniform when she goes to Fairvale High in September, and fourthly, you used up all your savings on your new bike.”

  “What about Dad?” Weezer asked. “If I write and ask him, won’t he send me the money?”

  “Dad helps us as much as he can as it is. He has to think about his new house and family.”

  “I don’t see why.” Weezer stuck her bottom lip out and sniffed. “We came first, before his new family. He should think of us.”

  “He does think of us,” I said. “He’s always sending us things, and he pays for the tickets when we go and visit him, doesn’t he?”

  “Anyway,” Mum said, “you’re making me sound like some kind of ogre, who’d want to stop you going to see Coppélia. That’s simply not true. I’ve said I’d pay for two gallery seats – they’re only four pounds each. I really don’t see why you’re not happy with that.”

  “Because,” Weezer said patiently, “sitting in the gallery is no good at all. You might as well look at the ballet on a video in the next room. All the dancers will be tiny, and I won’t be able to see their feet properly or the expressions on their faces. I’d rather not go at all than have to sit in the gallery.”

  “Then it’s not going at all, I’m afraid,” Mum said. “Now come on, both of you. Help me wash up the supper dishes and then, Annie, you must go and do your homework.”

  “I haven’t got any,” I told her. “It’s half-term next week, don’t you remember?”

  “What with your sister filling my head all afternoon, I’m quite surprised that I can remember my own name.”

  “I’ve got to write to Dad, though,” I said. “I’ll do it as soon as we’ve finished.”

  I couldn’t understand why Weezer was so quiet all the time we were drying the dishes and putting them away. I should have guessed that she was planning something, but I didn’t. I only realized later on when she came into our room while I was writing my letter.

  “Have you finished, Annie?” she asked, putting her head round the door. “Is it OK to talk to you?”

  “Yes,” I said, “but just sit quietly for a second while I finish this picture off for Dad.”

  “What’s it a picture of?” Weezer asked.

  “It’s Brad, fast asleep. Look.”

  Weezer looked. “I wish I could draw lovely pictures like you,” she said. “Will you let me add a little note to Dad at the bottom of your letter?”

  “OK,” I said. “In a minute. Just wait till I’ve coloured Brad in.”

  “Right,” said Weezer, stretching out on her bed. “I didn’t just come in to chat. I want to discuss something with you.” As she spoke, she kept raising and lowering one leg after the other into the air, toes pointed. “It’s about this money thing.”

  “I thought we’d finished talking about that. There’s not enough money for the seats you want and that’s all there is to it. I’d go for the gallery if I were you.”

  “You’re not me,” Weezer said. “Only a ballet dancer would understand why it’s so important for me to see these Russian dancers close up. Anyway, it doesn’t matter about Mum not being able to afford it, because I’m going to get enough all by myself. Well, with a bit of help from you, and Tony and Tricia and Maisie.”

  Brad’s fur was all coloured in, so I put the lid on my brown felt-tip and took out a greeny-yellowy one for his eyes. “What are you talking about?” I said.

  “I’m going to earn the money.”

  “How?”

  “I’m going to hold a Jumble Sale.”

  “A Jumble Sale?”

  “Yes, and then I think I’ll put on a dancing show. Maybe Tony can be in some of the pieces as well.”

  “There’s no room for dancing in our lounge,” I said. “You’ll look pretty silly all squashed in with the furniture.”

  “We could move the furniture,” said Weezer, looking cross.

  “It still wouldn’t be right. And anyway, a lot of people aren’t even that keen on ballet.”

  “I don’t care about them,” she said. “They’re just stupid.”

  “You’ll care if you don’t get any money because nobody comes.”

  Weezer thought about this for a minute and sighed. “OK, I suppose you’re right. What about a puppet show? I could do it with Tricia and Maisie. We’ve got loads of glove puppets. You could be in it too, if you like. We’ll ask
for 50p per ticket.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I think I’ll just help with scenery and things.”

  “OK,” said Weezer. “Whatever you like. And then I shall do all sorts of odd jobs for people too.”

  “I don’t want to wash cars,” I said.

  “Well, there are lots of other things we could do.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like walking people’s dogs.”

  “There’s not much time, though,” I said. “The St Petersburg Ballet are coming the week after next, and don’t forget that you go to ballet class on Tuesday afternoon and Saturday morning.”

  Weezer snorted. “As if I’d forget about ballet class! It’s OK. We don’t have to go to school next week. I’ve made up a timetable, look.”

  Weezer’s timetable said:

  ‘Saturday: start planning everything

  Monday–Friday: do dog-walking

  Wednesday: have Jumble Sale

  Friday: have Puppet Show

  Saturday: GO AND BUY TICKETS!!!’

  I said, “If you’re going to put on a puppet show in a week, you’d really better get cracking writing it.”

  “You’re a good writer, Annie.” Weezer was being specially nice. “Will you help me? We could do it now, before bedtime. It doesn’t have to be a long puppet show.”

  “But it has to be good if you’re going to charge people money to see it.”

  “It’ll be ace if you write it, Annie. It’ll be really brilliant.”

  If there’s one thing my sister is good at, it’s getting people to do what she wants. I put my felt-tips away and got my best notebook out.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s make a list of everything we have to do.”

  I opened the notebook and wrote ‘MONEY-MAKING’ at the top of a new page.

  Chapter Two

  THE NEXT DAY was Saturday. When Weezer came back from her ballet class with Tony, she was frowning.

  “I’ve been talking to Tony,” she said. “I never realized that putting on a Puppet Show would be so fiddly. I never thought about how we’re going to get everyone to come to it.”

  “I told you,” said Tony. He almost lives at our house. He comes over every day to practise ballet with Weezer, and now he’s like a sort of brother to us. He often has very good ideas. For instance, he seemed to know all about how to get people to watch our Puppet Show, and also how to get them to come to a Jumble Sale.

  He said, “I’ll print out something on our printer at home, and ask my dad if he’ll make lots of copies for us.”

  “Won’t he mind?” I asked.

  “No, I’m sure he’ll do it,” Tony said. “They’ve got a really good photocopier where he works. We also need tickets, but we can cut those out of ordinary paper and just write the price on them and sell them to everyone at the door.”

  “How many people do you think will come?” Weezer asked. “Do you think we can get twenty?”

  “Twenty won’t fit in your lounge,” Tony said. “Maybe you should do two shows, one on Friday and one on Saturday.”

  “No,” said Weezer. “We’re going to get the tickets on Saturday. Everyone will just have to squash in, that’s all. I’m going to tell the ballet class about it, so I’m sure lots of them will come.”

  “And I think,” I said, “that we should put a note through all the letterboxes in this street asking everyone to give us their jumble.”

  “What about their dogs?” Weezer asked. “We’ll have to knock on their doors for that, won’t we?”

  “I suppose so,” I said. “But we’d better ask Mum about it first, to see if it’s all right. I don’t know how we’re going to fit everything in. When are we going to rehearse the Puppet Show?”

  “Have you written it?” Weezer asked.

  “Not yet,” I said. “You only told me about it yesterday.”

  “Well, if you can get it ready by Monday, then I’ll invite Tricia and Maisie over for a rehearsal.”

  “OK,” I said. “I’ll go and start writing it, and you and Tony talk to Mum and then go and ask everyone about dogs and jumble. We can meet back here at suppertime and you can tell me all about it.”

  “No,” said Weezer. “You’ve got to come and ask about the dogs. I can’t go alone. People won’t believe me on my own. They’ll believe both of us. You can make it sound all grown-up and official.”

  “And I can’t come,” said Tony. “I’m going to put the advertisements on to the word-processor.”

  “So when am I supposed to write this play?” I asked.

  “Later,” said Weezer. “It won’t take you long.”

  “All right,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  Weezer and I went from one house to another. We’d made a list with Mum of all the houses where she knew the people, and there seemed to be lots of them. Some doors had brass knockers, others had electric bells which played a tune inside the house, and some people just had ordinary buzzer-type doorbells. I’d never realized how peculiar some of our neighbours were. Some people took ages and ages to understand what we were asking them for; others looked at us very suspiciously, even though they must have known who we were. Lots of people thought we just wanted money to buy extra sweets with and didn’t seem to believe Weezer when she explained to them about going to see Coppélia.

  “Let’s try Mrs Rosebush,” she said. “They’ve got that pretty little dog.” We didn’t know what the Rosebushes’ real name was, even though Mum often stopped to chat to them in the street. We called them that because they had rosebushes growing in big plant pots on either side of their front door. Weezer said this meant they were posh. I rang the doorbell, and the door opened straight away.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Hello, dear,” said Mrs Rosebush. She was wearing a very fluffy pink jumper and her hair was very fluffy too, though it wasn’t pink. “You’re Mrs Blair’s girls, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” said Weezer, “and we’re trying to earn some extra money by taking dogs for walks.”

  “Could you do it twice a day?” Mrs Rosebush asked. “Only I’m finding it a little difficult to get around . . .What about school?”

  “It’s half-term,” Weezer said. I couldn’t think why she’d asked me to come with her if she was going to do all the talking.

  “We’re charging a pound a day,” I said. “That’s for two walks, and we’d only be able to do it for next week, I’m afraid, because we’re back at school the week after.”

  “That would be a great help to me,” said Mrs Rosebush. “Could you come and collect Tilly at nine tomorrow?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Nine is fine. Thank you very much.”

  Weezer and I walked on to the next house. She was skipping along the pavement.

  “Six pounds by Friday!” she sang. “We’ll get the money in no time. We’ll be rich! Maybe we’ll even be able to afford a box.”

  By the end of the afternoon, we’d only found two more dogs who needed us, and the owners just wanted morning walks. Everyone else in our street seemed to have cats or rabbits or no pets at all. We went back to Tony’s house to have a look at his advertisements.

  “I’ve worked it out,” Weezer told him, “that the dog-walking will get us twelve pounds. That means we still need twenty-eight more. Will we be able to get that much from the Jumble Sale and Puppet Show?”

  “You will after everyone sees my adverts,” Tony said. “Look at this!” He put two sheets of paper on his desk. One said:

  The other one said:

  “They look great!” said Weezer. “Everyone will want to come. And they’ll give us tons of jumble, you’ll see.”

  “Yes,” I said. “They’re lovely. But I don’t think we should use ‘brilliant’ twice, do you, Tony?”

  “What can we have instead?”

  “How about ‘Spectacular Puppet Show’?”

  “Spectacular!” Weezer said. “Don’t you think that’s good, Tony?”

  “OK,” said Tony. “I can change i
t. It’s easy.” He sat down at the computer and started pressing buttons.

  “And I’m not sure about calling it a Jumble Sale,” I said.

  “But is is a Jumble Sale!” Weezer said.

  “Why don’t we call it a Bring and Buy Sale?” I asked. “That sounds much more elegant.”

  “Does it?” She seemed uncertain. “Do you think it does, Tony?”

  “Oh, yes,” he said. “It definitely does.”

  “Right,” said Weezer. “A Bring and Buy Sale, then. I’m going to phone Tricia and Maisie now and tell them all about the rehearsal on Monday.”

  “But I haven’t written the play yet,” I said.

  “When are you going to do it, then?” Weezer asked. “There isn’t much time.”

  “Now,” I said. “I’m going home now, and I’ll do it as quickly as I can.”

  “Tony and I will do some exercises while you write,” said Weezer. “We haven’t done enough barre work today.”

  They went off to dance and I started wondering what I was going to put into the Puppet Show.

  Chapter Three

  WEEZER IS IN disgrace because of something she did at the Bring and Buy Sale. We had it in our house last night, at about six o’clock, and all the neighbours came because Tony had put one of his advertisements through lots and lots of letterboxes. We didn’t make very much money because of Weezer. She was the one who said, “Everything’s got to be dead cheap or no one will buy it.”

  In the end we only made £7.25 and that, added to the £12 from the dogwalking makes £19.25, so we still need lots more, and I’m sure we’ll never get so many people coming to the Puppet Show. This is worrying me. Another thing that’s worrying me is the Show itself. Every time I think of a story to write and show it to Weezer, she finds something wrong with it, and then I have to fiddle with it and fix it and show it to her again and it’s all taking much longer than I thought it would. Tricia and Maisie and Weezer all know what the characters in the story are. We’ve got five glove puppets: