Bryony Bell's Star Turn Read Free

shrugged his shoulders.
    â€˜Very pleased?’ she tried miserably.
    â€˜Oh, honestly!’ shrieked Mrs Quigg. ‘Surely
you
, coming from a show-biz family, can think of something a tad more powerful than “very pleased”?’
    Out of the corner of her eye, Bryony could see Angelina putting her hand up. She had a more than usually self-satisfied expression on her face.
    â€˜Yes, Angelina?’ Mrs Quigg said expectantly.
    â€˜If
I
were playing the Virgin Mary, Mrs Quigg,’ Angelina replied in her most simpering voice, ‘
I
should be filled with the utmost awe.’

    â€˜Awe,’ Mrs Quigg repeated, rolling the word around her mouth. ‘Awe,’ she repeated, savouring it. Then she glared back at Bryony. ‘Exactly!’ she barked. ‘A little more
awe
from the Virgin Mary, or she’s going to end up losing her star part.’
    At that, much to Bryony’s relief, the bell rang. As everyone threw off their tea towels, she pulled Abid impatiently towards the classroom. ‘Just wait till you see this!’ she hissed.
    â€˜It’s not that book about hypnosis you got from Mr Undrum last night?’ Abid looked worried. ‘Only I can’t cope with much more today.’ He sank down onto a chair and put his head in his hands. ‘Oh, Bryony,’ he said miserably. ‘I do
hate
being an actor!’
    Bryony sat down beside him. ‘You used to hate singing in public,’ she observed. ‘And there you were a couple of months ago, wowing half the States.’
    â€˜That was different,’ Abid sighed. ‘That was singing. It’s all this
acting
I can’t stand. I just hate it when I have to gaze at you, my eyes filled with a mixture of love and compassion, and say, “Not much longer, my darling. Behold I see the star ahead”,’
    â€˜You do it very movingly,’ Bryony pointed out. ‘And it means the world to Mrs Quigg.’
    â€˜I know it means the world to Mrs Quigg,’ Abid agreed. ‘But it’s more than I can stand.’
    Bryony concealed a sigh. ‘Think yourself lucky you can sing,’ she said impatiently. ‘
I
have to act all the flipping time because I
can’t
. And all
I
want to do is skate.’
    Then, to Abid’s surprise, she leapt onto a desk, pulled an envelope from her pocket, and took two pieces of paper out of it. ‘But it is time to forget your sorrows,’ she announced, unfolding the top piece of paper, ‘for behold I bring you glad tidings of great joy! From the Director of Channel 4, no less – so pin back your ears.
    â€˜
Dear Ms Bell
,’ she read, as Abid gazed open-mouthed. ‘
Thank you for your letter. After due consideration, we have great pleasure in taking up your proposal to make a docu-soap of life with the Bells.
    â€˜
As you suggest, we will install a film crew to follow your family throughout the coming twelve months
.
    â€˜
Time being of the essence, if we are to have a Christmas special, we would wish to begin screen tests immediately. We trust this meets with your parents’ approval
.
    â€˜
We enclose a contract, the terms of which we are confident will be satisfactory
.’
    Bryony unfolded the second piece of paper and waved the contract in front of Abid. ‘Feast your eyes on
this
!’ she said. ‘Enough to keep the
Broadway Belles
grounded for at least a year, don’t you think?’
    Abid stared, blinked, and stared again. ‘All that money…’ he breathed, ‘…and fame too. Oh, Bryony, you’re a genius!’
    He stood up and applauded Bryony, who curtsied. Just as she was surfacing, Mrs Ogilvie entered the classroom. Bryony braced herself for the backlash, but amazingly none came. Instead, Mrs Ogilvie merely raised her eyebrows.
    â€˜Might I make so bold as to suggest,’ she commented, as she swept past with a pile of spelling books, ‘that we do not let our