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To Phoebe and Zoe, as they are the inspiration behind Magic Ballerina.
Welcome to the world of Enchantia!
I have always loved to dance. The captivating music and wonderful stories of ballet are so inspiring. So come with me and let’s follow Holly on her magical adventures in Enchantia, where the stories of dance will take you on a very special journey.
p.s. Turn to the back to learn a special dance step from me … Table of Contents In the soft, pale light, the girl stood with her head bent and her hands held lightly in front of her. There was a moment’s silence and then the first notes of the music began. For as long as the girl could remember music had seemed to tell her of another world – a magical, exciting world – that lay far, far away. She always felt if she could just close her eyes and lose herself, then she would get there. Maybe this time. As the music swirled inside her, she swept her arms above her head, rose on to her toes and began to dance … Slowly Holly sat upright on the sofa, her eyes never leaving the screen. She was watching the end of the ballet of Cinderella, her favourite bit. She caught her breath as the Spring Fairy leaped softly into a grand jeté, almost floating in the air, before landing gracefully. Holly leaned forward, her hands clasped tight together as she watched the dancer flutter and move with the lightest of steps. Then the credits went up. Her mother, a professional ballerina, had been dancing the role of the Spring Fairy. She’s just the best, thought Holly, blinking back the tears. It had been so wonderful staying with Mum over the Christmas holidays and learning the steps to this very dance herself. But now it was January, and a new school term had started, so Holly was back living with her Aunt Maria and Uncle Ted while Mum was on tour with the ballet company. She liked her aunt and uncle, but it wasn’t quite the same. Still, it wouldn’t be long till half term. Holly glanced at her watch and jumped up. She’d been so absorbed in Cinderella that she’d completely lost track of the time. She was due at Madame Za-Za’s ballet school in five minutes. She’d have to hurry if she was going to make it in time for class. Grabbing her ballet bag and throwing on her jacket, she rushed out into the cold air. “And-one-and-two-and-keep-in-time …” came Madame Za-Za’s voice, crisp and clear, as the girls sank down in their pliés. Holly felt a rush of happiness flood through her as she did what she loved most in the world. “Push down into the floor as you straighten up … Nice work, Holly,” called Madame Za-Za. Holly’s friend, Chloe, smiled at her as the class turned at the barre to do pliés on the other side. Holly smiled right back. It was lovely to have a new friend – up until last term, she hadn’t really made any. Her parents had divorced over six years ago, and there had been a lot of moving around since. Her dad was a professional dancer as well, and, although Holly occasionally spent time with him, she was mainly with her mum or her aunt and uncle. Holly concentrated hard, as Madame Za-Za instructed the class to move to the centre. “Use your eyes, girls! Feel the magic!” said Madame Za-Za, walking down the rows of students, tilting a head here or raising an arm there. As Holly checked her position in the ceiling-to-floor mirror of the studio, her eyes fell on her old red ballet shoes. They might look shabby, but they were really special.
