Silver Spires School

First Term at Silver Spires

Chapter 1

“Not long now, Katy,” said Dad, taking his eyes off the road for a second to glance sideways at me.

A shiver of excitement mixed up with big-time nervousness ran through me and I turned round to check on Buddy, my pet rabbit, who was lying in his basket on the back seat. He blinked his velvety eyes at me, just like he had done every other time I’d checked on him during this three-hour-long car journey.

“Nearly there, Bud! Just think, you’re about to make lots of new friends!”

Dad laughed. “I reckon he’d be saying exactly the same thing to you, if he could talk, Kates!”

And that sent another of those shivers rushing through me because I was about to start a brand-new life and it suddenly seemed totally scary. I’d read plenty of books about kids at boarding schools, but I’d no idea what it would actually feel like to be at one myself, living in a boarding house, with a housemistress and a matron instead of a mum and a dad, sleeping in a dormitory with five other girls that I’d never met before, and walking to lessons every morning in less than a minute.

For the last few days I’d done nothing but pack and unpack and repack my cases because I’d changed my mind so often about what clothes to take. Even now I wasn’t sure that I’d brought the right amount. “What if I’ve got too much stuff, Dad?”

“Then you can just leave some of it in your trunk.”

“But what if I’ve not packed enough?”

Dad laughed. “Then you can collect more stuff at half-term. Stop worrying, Kates!”

“I don’t want you to come up to the dorm, Dad.”“That’s fine.”

“But what if you leave and then I wish you had come up to the dorm after all? I’ll be really sad.”

“So maybe it would be best if I did come up to the dorm then.”

“No because then I’ll definitely be sad when you’ve gone.”

Dad laughed and patted my leg. “It’ll all be fine. Remember what Mum said. It’s only fear of the unknown that makes us worry. Half an hour after I’ve gone you’ll be right as rain.”

I wasn’t so sure about that. And although I didn’t say anything else out loud, the questions kept going on inside my head. What if I don’t like the other girls in my dorm? What if they don’t like me? What if I can’t find my way around?

There was only one thing that would calm me down and that was sketching, so I pulled my pad and pencil out of my backpack and before I knew it I’d covered a double page with designs for dresses and boots. They weren’t new designs though because I couldn’t concentrate on being creative when my mind was on school, wondering how long it would take me to get used to having all my meals in an enormous dining hall and doing my homework with lots of other people in the same room instead of on my own, often in front of the telly. That thought made me suddenly feel homesick, which was a bad sign as I hadn’t even arrived at school yet.

I knew I was really going to miss Mum and Dad. Especially Mum. I don’t have any brothers or sisters so Mum and I are very close, but now I’m on my way to boarding school, America seems even further away than it did when Mum first went over there and it was just me and Dad living at home. At least Mum and I will be able to phone and e-mail each other, but I won’t see her again till Christmas.

It was less than a year ago when Mum and Dad first brought up the idea of boarding school, and I remember how I was instantly filled with excitement at the thought of every single day being like a sleepover. Mum had laughed and put her hands up like a policeman. “Whoa there! It’s not decided yet, Kates! Dad and I are just thinking you might be happier in a boarding school than being at home now I know I’m going to be away filming more and more.”

Everything had happened so fast. One minute Mum was an actress who nobody had really heard of, and the next minute she’d got the part of Lee Brook in an American sitcom that just about everyone in the world watches – The Fast Lane. It was only a small part at first, but then it gradually got bigger because the director and lots of other important people loved the way Mum acted it. In the end they wanted Mum’s character to become one of the main parts in the new series, but it meant Mum would have to live in America, and that’s when she’d started to think I might be happier in a boarding school.

So here I am, on my way to a new life, remembering how Mum hugged me tight before she went off to America two days ago, and said, “We’ll be together for the whole of the main holidays, Kates!” But right now the Christmas holidays seem an eternity away.

Dad threw me another glance. “What’s that you’re sketching?”

“Nothing much.” I snapped the book shut and sat up straighter than straight.

“Oh! Right! Something I’m not supposed to see.” He pretended to be upset.

“Course not!” I laughed. “It’s just that I’m going to watch where we’re going from now on.”

I was quiet after that, staring out of the window at the houses and shops flashing by, then the trees and fields as we went further out into the country. It’s weird having a mum who’s so famous. When she first appeared in The Fast Lane, I thought it was the coolest thing ever, especially when some of the kids at primary wanted my autograph, as though having a famous mum made me famous too. And they kept asking me if Mum knew other famous people, and I liked the feeling I got when they all gasped and said, “Wow! That’s so cool!” And some of the younger ones at school would point me out to their mums in loud voices in the playground. “Look, that girl’s mum is on telly! She’s Lee Brook!” And suddenly everyone wanted to be my friend so I got loads of invitations to people’s houses, and even the teachers used to tell me when they’d watched The Fast Lane the night before.

It was great getting all this attention, just like suddenly being allowed as much chocolate as I wanted, until one day the chocolate made me feel sick. You see, that’s when I realized the attention had nothing at all to do with me. The kids at school only invited me to their houses because they wanted to get an invite back to my place so they could see Mum. And it grew really annoying when people asked me if Mum could get other famous people’s autographs for them. In fact I started to wonder whether I’d got any real friends at all, and that was a great big scary thought, which made me wish I could switch the clocks back and just have an ordinary mum.

So then I talked to Mum and Dad about it lots, and Dad was always joking around, saying that he knew how I felt because it was the same for him at work – everyone being extra nice to him, just because he’d got a famous wife. Mum said she thought it would settle down when people got used to it, and then everything would be back to normal. She was wrong, though. It never went back to normal and I was never ever sure whether people liked me for myself, or just because I’d got a famous mum. There wasn’t anything I could do to change things back to how they were before, but at least I could try my best not to make the same mistake again.

From the moment I knew I was going to boarding school miles away from home, I realized I had the chance for a brand-new start, so I made a great big decision. My plan is to keep Mum and her job a secret from everyone. Well, nearly everyone. The Head of the whole school, Ms. Carmichael, knows who my mother is, and so does Miss Carol, the housemistress of Hazeldean, the boarding house that I’ll be in. But they’re both keeping the information totally confidential. So from now on I can be quite sure that no one will know about Mum. That means I’ll be able to tell for certain who my real friends are.

A feeling of determination went zapping through me just as we rounded a bend in the road and came across an arch of overhanging trees. I sat up straight and spoke in a gabble. “I remember this bit of road from when I came on my introductory day. It reminded me of a tunnel. We’re nearly there, aren’t we, Dad?”

“Just around the corner if my memory serves me right,” said Dad.

And next minute we came across the big blue sign with silver lettering…

Silver Spires Boarding School

For Girls Aged 11–18

“This is it!” I squeaked, as Dad turned into the long drive and I tried to catch my first glimpse of the Silver Spires main building.

Drama at Silver Spires

Chapter 1

I was staring into the distance with a massive smile on my face, imagining myself on a stage somewhere in the West End of London. The sound of applause was ringing round the auditorium, and I felt the waves of adoration rolling over me as I took yet another bow. But then this totally cool daydream was interrupted by the sound of my best friend, Mia, whispering my name urgently and tapping me on the leg.

“Georgie!”

I came back to earth with a nasty bump, realizing I wasn’t on a stage at all. I was in my school assembly and the headmistress, Ms. Carmichael, was saying the prayer while every single one of the 360 girls in the hall was bowing her head respectfully. Well, every one except me. I quickly looked down and tried to get myself back into the daydream but got distracted by the sight of a ladder in my tights. It definitely hadn’t been there first thing this morning. I know that for a fact, because Miss Jennings would have spotted it with her eagle eye and made me go back to the dorm to change into a new pair of tights immediately.

Good old Miss Jennings. She’s the matron at Hazeldean, which is my boarding house at Silver Spires school. Most people find her really strict, and it’s true that she keeps her face straight the whole time, which Mia says is totally scary, but personally I like her. The secret is to chat to her lots and tell her jokes and then you can get a smile out of her. Well, I can anyway.

Yes I can! That makes two things I’m talented at. Acting and getting a smile out of Matron. Hallelujah! I tell you, it’s tough being in a dorm with five other girls who are all completely good-looking and talented. I mean, take Mia. She came to Silver Spires on a music scholarship because she’s so brilliant at piano. Then there’s Grace – she got a sports scholarship. As for Jess, she’d definitely have an art scholarship if there was such a thing. And Katy…well she’s the trendiest babe on this planet – I’d love to look like Katy – and we all just know she’ll finish up as a fashion designer because her sketches are amazing and she’s obsessed with the whole fashion scene. And finally – and this is the big one – there’s Naomi, who is an African princess. She’s also extremely beautiful and very wise. It’s just not fair that all of them are talented. I mean, how am I supposed to compete with that lot? They’re all my friends and I love them to death, but I do wish they weren’t quite so clever.

Seriously, the only thing I’m good at is acting. Drama has always been my passion. Even when I was only two and a half I used to love dressing up and stuff. My mum said I would stand in the middle of the circle of mothers at baby and toddler group, wearing an apron from the dressing-up box, and entertain everyone by pretending to scrub the floor. Thinking about it, I wonder if I might have developed a bit of a Cinderella obsession, but I don’t see how I could have understood the story if I was only two and a half. Aha! Maybe I really am a very bright person but nobody has managed to bring it out of me yet.

“Amen.”

Whoops! I think I must have been in another daydream. Anyway, now Ms. Carmichael had finished the prayer we’d only got the teachers’ announcements to go, or notices, as everyone calls them. I wonder why they’re called notices when they’re not written down. And I also wonder if anyone ever listens to them. I looked round and wasn’t surprised to see that most people seemed to have glazed over. Assemblies are probably the most boring part of boarding-school life. Oh and science, and geography…and history. Actually, I can’t say I’m a big fan of any lessons except drama. The drama lesson and drama club are the biggest highlights of my week, well, apart from watching The Fast Lane on telly, which is my fave programme ever. Drama even beats eating smuggled biscuits after lights out and stifling giggles with my friends in case Miss Carol, the housemistress, hears, or going shopping at the beginning of term before you’ve spent all your allowance. Now I come to think about it there are hundreds of highlights to boarding-school life – well, to Silver Spires life anyway. Silver Spires is the best school in the world, in case I didn’t mention that.

“Georgie!”

Mia was bashing my leg again, but this time when she said my name it didn’t sound like a telling-off. In fact for some reason or other Mia was pretty excited. I tuned into what was happening and realized that Miss Pritchard, the senior drama teacher, was standing up. It’s funny because the hall was already silent but it went into an even deeper silence when Miss Pritchard began to speak. And personally I went into ecstasy.

“Some of you will know that the junior play will be staged at the end of term. Anyone in Year Seven, Eight or Nine can audition. The play is called Castles in the Air and it’s based on the book Little Women by Louisa M. Alcott.”

My heart hammered with excitement. A play. How brilliant is that? And Little Women is my favourite book ever.

“I’m sure many of you will have read the book,” went on Miss Pritchard, “and know that the story is centred around four sisters: Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy.”

Just hearing those four names felt magical, especially the name Amy. That was the sister I always liked reading about the most.

“There are quite a few other substantial roles in the play as well as these four main ones, and there are also lots of smaller roles.” Miss Pritchard paused and smiled round at everyone, and I smiled right back. I was suddenly Cinderella again and she was my fairy godmother – You shall go to the ball!

I hung on to her every word because I didn’t want to miss a thing or get anything wrong. It would be terrible if I didn’t show up at the auditions because I hadn’t taken in the time properly.

“There’s a very high standard of acting at Silver Spires, and traditionally this junior play has always been incredibly well received by the parents, which is important because it’s a showcase for the school…” She smiled again but then suddenly looked very serious and spoke in a slow, firm voice. “To produce a fine performance I need total commitment from my actors…”

I stood up straight and stuck out my chin. She could rely on me, all right. I’d learn all my words overnight and turn up at every rehearsal bang on time. I couldn’t wait to get started, in fact. Come on, Miss Pritchard, tell us when the auditions are…

“So bear that in mind if you’re thinking of auditioning for a part. It’s great fun being involved in a theatre production but it’s also hard work and there are sacrifices to be made, such as missing your favourite clubs sometimes, missing television to learn your lines…”

I didn’t care. I’d miss every meal as well, if she wanted me to, even though the meals at Silver Spires are mouth-wateringly yum-worthy and eating is one of my favourite activities in the whole world.

“If you’d like to audition for a part you’ll need to come to the senior hall, which, for Year Seven students who don’t do drama club, is upstairs and along the main corridor in this building…”

She pointed to the ceiling, and I thought back to my first day at Silver Spires when I’d gone exploring for anything to do with drama, and first come across the senior hall and also seen the incredible new theatre, which looked like something out of the West End of London. It would be so fantastic to perform on that stage.

Rivalry at Silver Spires

Chapter 1

I love this moment of walking through to the school pool from the changing room. My whole body comes alive, even more than it does on the athletics field. Maybe it’s something about the smell, or the steamy atmosphere, or the beautiful pale green water that reminds me of the sea back home in Thailand. Whatever it is, I love it. I always find my footsteps speeding up, because I’m so desperate to get into the water and swim and swim. But this time Jess’s hand on my arm stopped me in my tracks.

“Grace, look!” she said in her dreamy voice. Her eyes were on the far window, which goes right from the floor to the ceiling. “Look at that sun shining in. Isn’t it beautiful? The water looks like liquid gold up at the deep end, doesn’t it?”

I smiled at my best friend. “I bet you’ll do a painting of that later, won’t you?”

But she didn’t answer because she was lost in a little Jess-daydream. By now there were quite a few people in the pool. I hadn’t seen anyone diving in yet, though, so I decided not to do that either. It might have seemed like I was showing off and that was the last thing I wanted anyone to think.

Mrs. Mellor, our lovely PE teacher, was hurrying people out of the changing room while the lifeguard sat on high and watched over us all. I went down the steps and felt the cold water rising up around me, and although it made me shiver, it was a shiver I loved. It took me straight back to swimming in the sea in Thailand over the Christmas holidays. This is the beginning of the spring term at Silver Spires, which is the most perfect boarding school in the world, and here I am about to start our very first swimming lesson, because last term we didn’t have any actual timetabled swimming. I should be totally happy, but there’s just a small chunk of happiness missing because I can’t help feeling a bit homesick. My mum and dad and my big sister seem so far away when I’m in England. I know I’ve got my lovely group of friends, including my very best friend, Jess, and I also know I’ll soon be back in boarding-school mode, but it’s only the second term of boarding for all us Year Sevens so we’re still getting used to it.

“Oh no! This is torture!” came good old Georgie’s voice. I glanced over to see her hunched up at the top of the steps.

“The quicker you get in, the quicker the torture – as you call it – will be over!” said Mrs. Mellor firmly. She clapped her hands. “Chop-chop, everyone! Five minutes’ free swimming to get used to the water and then we’ll start the lesson.” She went over to help someone tighten their goggles a bit, then turned back round. “Georgie Henderson, your challenge this term is never to be the last one in the pool.”

Georgie didn’t answer, just hunched her shoulders even more and folded her arms, while her best friend Mia jigged up and down in the pool in front of her. “You’ll get used to it really quickly, honestly!” I heard her say, as I set off to the deep end, doing front crawl.

I was concentrating hard on making my body as narrow and straight as possible, bringing my arms right over my head and cutting through the water with the side of my hand, while keeping my legs and feet strong. My parents wanted me to have swimming coaching during the holidays but in the end I only had three sessions because our lovely Christmas celebrations went on for so long this year, with lots of visitors and outings. It was hard leaving those hot sunny days of fun behind and coming back to the cold English weather.

When I got to the deep end I stopped and looked around. If I half closed my eyes the surface of the pool looked like pale green silk with loads of brightly coloured balls floating all over it. We have to wear hats for swimming and each boarding house here at Silver Spires has got its own colour. My five close friends and I are in one of the Year Seven dormitories in Hazeldean House and we’ve all got purple hats. The girls from Willowhaven wear green hats, Beech House wear blue, Forest Ash, red, Elmhurst, white and Oakley, yellow. I love it that girls from all the different houses are mixed together completely randomly for things like sport and music and art. Then for maths, science and English lessons we’re in top, second and third sets.

Mrs. Mellor blew her whistle to announce that we’d only got another two minutes of free swimming and I suddenly realized I was starting to shiver because I’d been still for a while and wasn’t fully warmed up. I set off back to the shallow end doing the fastest crawl I could manage and then turned round and headed straight back to the deep end, trying to do the proper breathing on every third stroke, but not managing it very well because breathing for the crawl stroke is my biggest weakness. I’d almost completed the second length when, through the blur of the water, I noticed a blue hat coming up on my left. Someone from Beech House was swimming really fast. We touched the side at exactly the same time and when she turned to face me, I realized it was a girl called Felissia Streeter. I smiled at her, but all I got back was a cold stare and I felt horrible shivers pushing through the lovely warmth I’d gathered during my hard swim. I didn’t know what that look was about and I don’t like it when I don’t understand things.

Mrs. Mellor’s whistle made me jump and I was glad that I had to concentrate on listening to instructions about lining up at the deep end because it took my mind off Felissia’s horrible look. The rest of the lesson was great fun because Mrs. Mellor always makes everyone feel so confident, and we had a go at all the different strokes, even butterfly, which I’m hopeless at. I loved all the other strokes and didn’t want the swimming lesson to end.

“That was good fun,” said Jess, in the changing room afterwards.

“I was rubbish,” said Georgie.

“So was I,” added Naomi. “I just didn’t seem to get warmed up properly.”

“I thought you were really good,” said Katy, who’s Naomi’s best friend. She grinned at me as she rubbed her hair with a towel. “But we knew you’d easily be the best of us lot, Grace.”

Jess shuffled closer to me on the bench. “We’re so lucky having you in our house,” she said.

“And we’ve got Katy too,” I quickly pointed out, because Katy’s a strong swimmer.

“Are you two joining the swimming squad?” Mia asked.

We weren’t sure whether just anyone could join the squad, because the squad isn’t a fun thing like a club. It’s much more serious. So Katy went to ask Mrs. Mellor. She came back with the answer that if you want to be in the swimming gala you have to join the squad, but anyone’s allowed to sign up for it and see how they get on. “But you’ve definitely got to join, Grace!” she added. “You’re the best!”

“With a bit of luck you can enter all the races, Grace, and the rest of us can just cheer you on. Then Hazeldean will be the winning house! Yay!” Georgie was pulling her sweatshirt over her head so we could only just make out what she was saying, but the others all laughed, apart from Jess. She probably guessed I’d be feeling a bit anxious about all this praise because I’d already told her I didn’t feel as confident about swimming as I did about athletics.

“There are some really good swimmers in the other houses,” I said quietly, and I couldn’t help glancing round for Felissia. I spotted her in front of the mirror scooping her hair up into a ponytail.

“Felissia Streeter’s good, isn’t she?” said Mia, who must have followed my eyes.

I nodded and suddenly felt tempted to tell the others about Felissia’s look, but I didn’t because it would have sounded like such a silly little thing. And as soon as I’d had that thought, I realized that actually, that’s exactly what it was – a silly little thing – and I told myself to stop being stupid and forget about it.

Princess at Silver Spires

Chapter 1

It’s so peaceful here in the secret garden. I can sit on this bench and just think my own thoughts in silence. Not that I don’t love the busy, buzzy side of boarding-school life, hanging out with my close friends in our dormitory, or at lunch, or racing round the athletics track. But out of the six of us I think I’m the one who most needs to be alone sometimes. I came across the garden last September when I’d only just joined this school. My best friend, Katy, found out about it too, and then a bit later we told our other close friends where it was. It’s tucked away behind a high hedge way on the other side of the athletics field and we six from Amethyst dorm think we’re still the only ones who know about it.

The school is called Silver Spires, and it’s the best boarding school in the world. On a day like today, when the sun shines on the main building’s tall spires, they really seem to sparkle like silver. It gives me a lovely warm feeling, seeing them reaching into the sky, and I love the thought that this is the same sun that shines onto my home country in Africa.

I come from Ghana, and I’m a princess, but I absolutely hate people knowing that. I tried like mad to keep it a secret when I first came here, but in no time at all people found out, and it was exactly as I’d feared. Loads of people suddenly wanted to be my friend, not because they liked me but because they liked the idea of having a princess for a friend. But, worse than that, the ones who didn’t rush to be my best friend went round saying I was stuck-up and that I thought I was something special. I was miserable for a while and it was Katy who came to my rescue. At her old school everyone had wanted to be her friend too, because they knew that her mum is a famous actress in America. But that’s one secret that will never ever come out here at Silver Spires. Katy only told me about it at first, but then at the end of last term she told the others too. The six of us best friends from Amethyst dorm are sworn to secrecy about that now.

The glinting sun in this English spring is like a dim reminder of the bright sun that bakes the earth of Ghana, and I can’t stop my thoughts from slipping away to all the poor people I saw last week during half-term, when I went with my family to visit our home country. It made me sad and cross when I met a girl called Abina and saw with my own eyes what she has to do every day. She’s twelve years old, the same age as me, and at five o’clock each morning she goes to a muddy waterhole, where animals drink, to collect water for her family. It takes hours for the water to seep through the ground and for the mud to settle, and even then it’s dirty and not safe to drink. But I visited other villages in north Ghana where a charity called Just Water has built wells and installed hand pumps, so the people there can have clean water.

My father is the president of Just Water and now I’ve started to help the charity too. I’m really pleased to do this work because I feel so lucky to have the life I’ve got, when there are so many people in northern Ghana who don’t even survive to my age. How can that be fair? I repeat this question over and over like a mantra to myself, sitting here alone in the fresh English country air. But I never come up with any answers, just resolutions never to forget the people of Ghana.

I shivered as I looked at my watch, and got a shock because it was six thirty. I only had a few minutes to shake off African Princess Naomi and get myself back into regular-Year-Seven-Silver-Spires Naomi, having supper with her friends. Well, to tell the truth I never completely shake the princess part of me away, but I always try my best to keep it well hidden.

As I got nearer to our boarding house, Hazeldean, I saw Katy standing outside, her shoulders hunched up and her arms folded tightly. She waved when she saw me and came running over.

I hugged her. “You look frozen, Kates!”

“So do you!”

We laughed and I realized she was right. “I’ve been wrapped up in my thoughts in the secret garden, but I can’t say they kept out the cold very well!”

“I guessed you’d be there,” said Katy, looking suddenly serious. “Are you okay?”

I knew why she was asking me that. She’d listened in complete silence yesterday evening when I’d told her all about my time in Ghana, and at the end she’d said she felt guilty that I’d spent my half-term working for a charity while she’d been having a great time in LA with her mum. “You make me feel really spoiled, Naomi,” were her precise words. But I’d quickly told her not to be silly, because Katy and her mum are so close and don’t get to spend much time together. Anyway, I felt ten times more spoiled than that when I saw Abina’s school, which was scarcely more than a tree and a wooden hut, and I compared it with Silver Spires.

“I can’t stop thinking about Abina,” I told her quietly, as we walked across to the dining hall, which is in the main building.

“You can’t do any more than you’re doing, working for Just Water,” Katy said, linking arms with me.

Maybe she was right, but it didn’t stop a little niggling voice telling me I must do more.

“Slow down, you two!” came Georgie’s urgent cry from way behind. Katy and I turned round to see her half walking, half jogging, as though she was on her last legs at the end of a torturous marathon. “Why do people move so fast round here?”

I couldn’t help smiling as we waited for her to catch us up. Georgie is always so dramatic, but in a lovely way.

“I lost track of the time watching my Ugly Betty DVD,” she informed us in her puffed-out voice, when she finally drew level. “It’s totally cool. You should see it. I’m starving now, though. What’s on the menu, do you know?”

“Haven’t a clue,” said Katy as I slipped back into my other world for a moment. But I quickly shook the thoughts of poverty and starvation away. I knew they didn’t do anyone any good.

Georgie’s best friend, Mia, was in the queue for food, and beckoned to us lot to join her, but I didn’t think it was fair all three of us pushing in like that, so just Georgie went ahead. A moment later she was straight back, full of something she was dying to tell us. “Mia says that one of the Year Elevens has been looking for you, Naomi!”

Secrets at Silver Spires

Chapter 1

“That’s coming on nicely, Jess.”

I jumped a mile at the sound of Mr. Cary’s voice because I’d been in a world of my own, blending shapes and patterns in a collage. It was my favourite lesson of the week: art. With my favourite teacher. Mr. Cary and I both laughed at the way he’d given me such a shock.

“Sorry, Jess, I forget how absorbed you always get! I’ll cough or something to warn you I’m approaching in future.” He leaned forward and studied my picture carefully, then took a step back and nodded to himself. “Hmm. I like the shape that’s emerging through the colours of the collage.”

I frowned at my picture because I didn’t get what Mr. Cary meant. I hadn’t intended there to be any shape.

“Look,” he said, seeing the puzzled look on my face, as his finger drew a line in the air just above the painting. “It’s a shoe!”

“Oh wow! So it is!”

“Let’s have a look,” said my best friend, Grace, coming over from her easel. “Yes, it’s a trainer!” she said, smiling to herself. “I think it’s one of mine!”

I grinned at her. Some people wonder why she and I are best friends when we don’t seem to have anything in common. You see, Grace is the most talented girl in Year Seven at sport and she’s really good at most other subjects too, whereas I’m no good at anything except art. But Grace is a very sensitive person so she understands what it is I love about art, and when I show her stuff I’ve done, she doesn’t just say, Oh yes, very nice. She asks questions and tries to see what I see. And that’s lovely for me because, apart from Mr. Cary, Grace is the only person in my entire life who really understands me.

“Are you getting ideas for the art exhibition, Jess?” she asked me, her eyes all sparkly. Grace is from Thailand and when she smiles she’s so pretty. Her whole face kind of crinkles and lights up.

“Just what I was about to ask, Grace!” said Mr. Cary. “I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with for the exhibition, Jess.” He smiled. “Remember, you don’t have to limit your work to a painting. Or even to craftwork. Last year we had sculptures, pottery, silk screening, installation art—”

“Installation art?” said Georgie, bouncing over with a paintbrush in her hand.

“Georgie, you’re dripping!” said Mr. Cary, pretending to be cross, even though everyone knows that Mr. Cary never really gets cross. None of the art teachers do. That’s one of the lovely things about art – there’s no need for crossness. There’s no right or wrong. No horrible words. Just lovely, lovely pictures, and everyone simply slides into the magical world of whatever they’re creating.

For me personally, I really feel the magic. I’ve always felt it, ever since I was four, moulding a ball of play dough into an elephant at playschool. I can still remember the excitement I felt as I made two thin plate shapes for the elephant’s ears. I was having a little competition with myself to see if I could make the whole elephant without tearing any bits off the dough and sticking them back on again. I was trying to just keep moulding away, teasing out the legs and the trunk and the ears and the tail until the blob of dough turned into an elephant.

Then the playgroup leader said I had to stop because it was time for milk, and I remember how I cried and cried and stamped my foot until she promised to keep my elephant safe so I could carry on with it the next day. Later, when my nanny, Julie, came to collect me, the playgroup leader told her about me crying, but Julie didn’t even ask to see the elephant, which made me sad.

After playschool, I got Julie to make play dough at home and I created a whole zoo. I arranged all the animals on newspaper spread right across the kitchen table, and as soon as I heard Mum’s key in the front door when she got home from work – she’s an accountant by the way – I rushed to the hall, grabbed her hand and pulled her through to the kitchen.

“Look!” I said proudly.

“Oooh! That’s lovely, Jess!” she said, giving me a big hug. But she hadn’t looked for long enough, and I think that was the first time I realized in some funny little childish way that I could see things that some people couldn’t see. I mean, I’m sure the blobs of dough looked exactly that – blobs of play dough with bits sticking out – but to me there were all sorts of animals in there just waiting to be seen.

Then, when Dad got home – he’s also an accountant by the way – he hardly even glanced at my zoo. He just patted my head and said, “Very nice. Let’s clear it away now, Jess.”

As I got older, I realized that there are two kinds of people in the world: those who kind of connect with art (that’s the only way I can describe it), and those who simply don’t. So that’s why I feel so lucky to have Grace. I mean, the teachers at primary must have thought I was quite a good artist because they often praised me, but none of them actually wanted to discuss anything I’d done. Whereas Grace seems genuinely interested and says she loves trying to see the world in pictures like I do.

“I’ve heard that word ‘installation’ before,” Georgie was saying. “But I don’t get it. I mean an installation is like getting a washing machine or something fitted, isn’t it?”

Mr. Cary chuckled, partly because Georgie had been waving her brush around while she’d been talking and had accidentally smeared green paint across her nose.

“Installation art is exactly what it says it is,” said Mr. Cary. “It’s all about installing art within its own specific environment, which might be anywhere. For example, last year,” he went on, staring out of the window, “it was a piece of installation art that won first prize in the senior art exhibition. It was a birdcage hanging from a tree near Beech House, but the student had made it entirely out of natural materials and she’d left the door open to show that the bird had flown. She could have displayed the birdcage on a surface in the art room, but it wouldn’t have made the same impact as it did hanging from the branch of a tree. You see, that student was making a comment about how it’s not natural to keep birds in cages.”

I felt my heart do the squeezing thing it does whenever I see a piece of art I love. I know I couldn’t actually see the birdcage, but it was just as though I could, because there was such a clear picture of it in my head.

“That’s a brilliant idea,” breathed Grace. Then we exchanged a look, which meant we both understood about the birdcage.

Georgie was wrinkling her nose. “Is that art, though?” she said. “I mean it’s very clever and all that, but…”

“Well, that’s the big debate, isn’t it?” said Mr. Cary. “Some people can’t see it at all. Other people love it. But tell me, Georgie, if you saw an amazing piece of, say, jewellery, and it happened to be hanging from a tree, would you appreciate it?”

“Yes! Of course!” said Georgie squeakily. “You can wear jewellery. You can’t wear a birdcage!”

Star of Silver Spires

Chapter 1

“No, I can’t!” I insisted, shaking my head firmly. “Not in a million years!” I added, in case any of my friends hadn’t quite got the message.

“But you’re so talented, Mia!” said Georgie, my very best friend. “You play the piano like…brilliantly, and you sing like…brilliantly!”

I couldn’t help laughing. She looked so funny, throwing her hands in the air dramatically, as only Georgie can.

“And that song you made up is lovely,” added Naomi, smiling.

“No, I really can’t,” I repeated. “I’d just be too scared. I mean far too scared!” I folded my arms, and probably looked stubborn and immature. But I couldn’t help it. The thought of entering the Silver Spires junior singer/songwriter contest simply filled me with dread.

“I know what you mean about being nervous,” said Grace. “I still get nervous every time I do any competitive sport.”

I smiled gratefully at Grace. “And this is in front of the whole school,” I said quietly. But in my heart I knew that even if it was in front of just the Year Sevens, I’d still never be able to manage it. “I’d…die.”

“Which wouldn’t be very helpful if you were just about to sing!” said Georgie, looking at me as though I was hopeless.

“Don’t pressure her,” said Naomi. “Not everyone’s as outgoing as you, Georgie!”

I thanked Naomi for that, with my eyes. She’s the wise one of the group and I was really pleased that she understood how I felt.

“Well I think Mia needs to be pushed!” said Jess, folding her arms. “She’s just too modest!”

The five of us were sitting under one of the trees on the grass behind the main Silver Spires building. Well actually only four of us were sitting under the tree. Georgie was stretched out in the sun. She’d rolled her school skirt over at the waist to make it as short as possible, and she’d tied a knot in her shirt so her stomach could get tanned as well as her legs. It was morning break, and there were loads of other Silver Spires students dotted all over the huge grassy area, some of them lying back sunbathing, others just sitting and chatting. It was the second half of the summer term and also the beginning of the lovely hot weather. It gives me such a nice feeling to be able to look round and know that I’m a part of this beautiful place. Silver Spires is just the best boarding school in the world.

My eyes flicked round my friends and landed on Georgie. “You’re getting very pink,” I told her. “Did you put suncream on?”

She sighed. “Why did I have to be born with such pale skin? Why can’t I be black, like Naomi? Or at least a bit darker than I am, like Grace.”

Grace is from Thailand and it’s true she’s got lovely olive-coloured skin. She sighed and mumbled something about thinking her looks were boring, while Naomi laughed, then turned suddenly serious and stared into the distance. “We should just be happy with what we are, shouldn’t we?”

I guessed she was thinking about some of the poor people she’s met in Ghana, which is the country she comes from. Naomi is actually a Ghanaian princess, but she hates people knowing that. She feels very lucky to have been born into a wealthy family, and she spends loads of time in the school holidays working for a charity that builds wells in Ghana.

“Well, I’m just as pale as you, Georgie,” I quickly said, because Naomi looked sad, and I wanted to bring her back to the here and now.

“And I’ve got freckles but I don’t care!” laughed Jess.

“Yes, that’s another complaint I’ve got,” Georgie said, sitting up suddenly. “I’d be fine with being pale as long as I had a ‘don’t care’ attitude like you two!”

So then we all laughed, and I felt happy that we’d got away from the subject of the Silver Spires Star contest, because the very thought of singing my own song in front of an audience made me feel quite panicky, and I didn’t like my friends trying to push me into it. It was embarrassing and pathetic that I had such a fear of performing in public, especially because music is so important to me and I love playing the piano. But what happened when I was six years old has left a terrible mark on me.

It was my first local music festival and I was playing a piece by Handel. We were all supposed to announce our pieces and say the name of the composer before we played. I remember looking out at all the faces and trying to find Mum and Dad and my baby brother, but Mum’s seat was empty. It turned out that she’d had to take my little brother out because he’d started to cry, but I didn’t know that at the time and I just felt frightened to see all the faces but no Mum. When I came to announce my piece, in my worried state I couldn’t remember the name of the composer, but I knew it reminded me of a doorknob, so that’s what I said… “‘Intermezzo’, by Door Knob.” And I remember wanting to cry because I didn’t understand why people started laughing. And I got so upset then that my fingers didn’t seem to work properly and I played the piece terribly and got the worst mark of anyone.

The next year, my teacher tried to persuade me to enter the music festival again but I refused. When I was eight I finally agreed to give it another try, but I felt so sick when I got onto the stage that I had to run off and straight out of the hall, otherwise I would have been sick in front of the whole audience.

After that I never entered one of the town music festivals again, and neither did I play piano in concerts at my primary school, even though my teachers and then my friends tried and tried to persuade me. In the end the teachers gave up because I think Mum must have had a word with them, but my friends wouldn’t leave me alone. None of them knew what had happened at the music festivals, and it was far too embarrassing to explain, so I just kept on making excuses that I’d hurt my finger or didn’t have a piece ready, or even that I’d lost my music, which all seems ridiculous now.

It was a relief when the Year Six concert at my old school came and went without me having to play in it, but then I came here to Silver Spires and now it looks as though my problems are starting all over again.