Bryony Bell Tops the Bill Read Free Page A

Anything wrong?’
    Bryony shook her head and grinned. ‘Oh, I’m OK,’ she told Abid. ‘You know me — nothing gets me down for long!’

    The line moved towards the door and Abid followed it, trailing his big feet. Bryony skated behind him, pushing, as she did every morning.
    Secretly Bryony was sure that, without her steady pressure, Abid would never ever make it to the boys’ cloakroom.
    â€˜It’s my asthma, Bryony,’ he told her gloomily,‘and my excema. They’re awful just now. I sneeze and itch and wheeze and sneeze and itch and wheeze — and nothing my father gives me does any good!’
    â€˜You’d think having a father who’s a doctor would mean you were never ill, but it doesn’t seem to work in your case,’ Bryony observed. ‘Come to think of it, mine’s a joiner and all our doors squeak.’
    â€˜Well, of course you know what’s causing it, don’t you?’ Abid said pointedly.
    Bryony nodded. She knew all right. And when she thought about it, she felt another dark cloud descend to add to the ones that hung over the Viper 3000s and the blue sailor dress.
    For what seemed like a lifetime, Bryony and Abid’s class had been practising their end-of-term musical play,
The Ugly Duckling
. It was to be performed next week and today was the first full dress rehearsal, so as soon as the register had been called they all lined up with their costumes and were marched to the hall. Bryony trailed along at the back, the little dark clouds following her, and Abid trailed even more slowly behind her, looking as though he was going to have all his teeth extracted.
    The stage had been transformed into a lakeside scene. There was a vivid blue backdrop with bright green trees and crimson flowers, anda very yellow sun. A blue cloth had been spread on the floor, with larger-than-life bulrushes growing round its edge and big pink waterlilies arranged on its surface. It all looked most effective.
    They were given a few minutes to get into their costumes. In the past weeks Bryony had managed to keep an eye on Abid during this procedure, and had pinned his costume on as best she could, but today Mrs Ogilvie, the class teacher, insisted that boys change on one side of the stage and girls on the other. With a grim expression on her face, and a pincushion attached to her wrist, she had led Abid away into the darkness behind the curtains. Abid looked back, managing a brave smile and a ‘thumbs up’ sign. As the lights dimmed, the words ‘lamb to the slaughter’ popped into Bryony’s head.
    When Mrs Ogilvie announced that all was ready, Mrs Quigg the music teacher, played three loud notes on the piano and in the semi-darkness two yellow ducklings made their entrances and shuffled about, whispering nervously. Bryony gritted her teeth and pulled her mask over her head.
    â€˜Where is the Ugly Duckling?’ Mrs Quigg shouted, playing the cue music again. ‘Where is Bryony Bell?’
    Slowly, Bryony waddled on. Like the twoyellow ducklings, she wore a big duck mask and orange tights. Unlike the yellow ducklings, she wore a costume made of grey-brown leathers.
    â€˜You have missed your cue again, Bryony,’ Mrs Quigg told her angrily. ‘Remember, you are the star of the show. Now, sing!’
    Bryony flapped her grey-brown wings gloomily as the music began, and hung her head down so low that her chin was on her chest.
    â€˜That’s right,’ said Mrs Quigg happily. ‘Look miserable.’
    â€˜Oh I’m an Ugly Duckling,’
sang Bryony, in a gravelly monotone,
    â€˜And no one wants me near
.
My drab and dowdy feathers

Make all the ducklings sneer!’
    The yellow ducklings waddled round the lake, making spitting noises and pointing rudely at Bryony. At the edge of the pond was a log which had been made by covering two benches with painted corrugated paper and artificial flowers. On it sat a line