Little Swan Read Free

short.”
    For fifteen minutes, everyone practised running, jumping, and twirling in the way Miss Matting had shown them. Then they started to dance the short sequence one at a time. Miss Matting sat on a chair with a clipboard and scribbled on a sheet of paper.
    Then Miss Matting had just the girls come to the front of the class, one by one, to do a few steps. I watched closely. They all looked very much the same. When it came to Weezer’s turn, though,
I
was the one with butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t look. I squeezed my eyes shut and said to myself: Please, please, let Weezer do well. Let her be chosen. By the time I’d opened my eyes, Weezer had sat down again, and someone else was dancing.
    It took a very long time for all the girls to do their dance.
    “Thank you very much, everyone,” Miss Matting said at the end. “I’m sure you’re allanxious to know who’s been picked, so I shall stop the class now and allow you to get dressed. When you’re ready, come in here and sit down quietly. I shall tell you all about the dance we’ll be doing, and give you the names of the four soloists.”

    Usually, Weezer was very slow to change out of her leotard and into her clothes. Today she was back in the hall in a couple of minutes. She sat down next to Tricia and Maisie. She was staring very hard at the floor, and clutching her little suitcase so hard her knuckles were white. Miss Matting clapped her hands for attention.

    “Now, children, the first thing I’d like to say is how proud I am of all of you. You did very well.
    “I’ve decided, this year, to do something truly exciting. We will be dancing to Tchaikovsky’s lovely music for
Swan Lake
. The boys will do a snowman dance and the girls will be a corps de ballet of swan maidens. The four girls I’ve chosen will dance a version of the Dance of the Little Swans that I’ve choreographed.” Every eye in the class was on Miss Matting. Some people had their mouths open. Weezer was biting her lip.
    “These, then,” said Miss Matting, “are the four names . . .”

“. . . CHANTELLE ROBERTSON, LOUISA Blair, Biba Gregory, and Lauren Davis.”
    Weezer blinked. Just for a split second, she didn’t recognize her name.
    “Louisa Blair – that’s me!” she said to Tricia. “I’ve been chosen! Oh, Tricia, I wish you and Maisie had been chosen too!”
    Miss Matting was still speaking. “Of course, the Little Swans need understudies. Imagine if all our soloists wake up on the morning of the show covered in measles. So Maisie Fellowes, Tricia Little, Sharon Goodbody, and Elizabeth Reynolds will also learn the steps.” That seemed to make everyone very happy. Weezer and Tricia and Maisie did a little war dance together.
    All the way home, Weezer kept saying, “I’m a Little Swan! I’m going to be in a special dance. A Little Swan! Wait till I tell Mum!”
    We talked about nothing else at supper.
    “I’m so glad Tricia and Maisie are understudies,” Weezer said. “It means we can practise together. And Annie, guess what? Tricia’s mum says she can take me to class in the car each week. She can bring me back, too. You won’t have to walk with me anymore. Isn’t that great?”
    “Lovely,” I said. I should have been happy, but I felt quite sad. I’d enjoyed taking Weezer to her ballet classes. I liked the cloakroom, which smelled of talcum powder. I liked seeing what colour leotard Miss Matting was wearing. I imagined her cupboard full of hundreds of different dance outfits.
    “I must phone Dad,” Weezer said, “and tell him about being a Little Swan.”
    “Cygnet,” I said. “The proper word for a little swan is a cygnet. The dance should be called the Dance of the Cygnets.”
    “But it isn’t!” Weezer was beginning to look dangerously pink. “It’s called the Dance of the Little Swans. Ask anybody. Anybody who knows anything about ballet. Tchaikovsky could have called it whatever he liked. He chose Little Swans. So there.”