laughed even harder.
“Oh Fliss, where’s your sense of humour?” giggled Frankie. “We’re just saying that you seem to be taking this actress thing a bit far. If you’re so keen, why don’t you go to a drama class? There’s got to be one somewhere near here.”
That sounded like a great idea. At least that way we wouldn’t have to suffer Fliss trying to be the next Kate Winslet. Or so we thought…
It was just our luck that when we went to Brownies a couple of days later, someone had put up a brand new poster on the notice board. It was luminous yellow so it sort of hit you right in the eyes. It said:
“Look at that!” said Fliss, hopping around from foot to foot as she read it. “Don’t you see? It’s a sign! I wanted to go to a drama class and suddenly there’s one right here on our doorstep! We’ve got to go to it! It’s going to make me a star!”
“Hang on a minute!” insisted Kenny. “What’s all this we business? It’s you who wants to be the actress. You’re on your own, sunshine!”
Fliss pouted and made her eyes all big and wide. She’s always doing stuff like that to make people feel sorry for her, but it doesn’t usually work with us.
“Actually, it might be a laugh,” admitted Frankie. “My gran’s always calling me a ‘little actress’. It might be kind of fun to go to a proper drama class.”
“Well I’ve always fancied being a TV presenter, and I guess a few drama lessons might help,” said Rosie. “Then I might get a big break myself and end up presenting Live and Kicking. That would be so cool!”
“The point is that going to drama class would be good for all of us,” said Fliss seriously. “Come on, let’s all go, it’ll be great! Please? Pretty, pretty per-lease?”
Before we had time to decide, Brown Owl came in and we had to get into our packs. The poster certainly gave us a lot to think about, though. Fliss, Frankie and Rosie all seemed really keen on the idea of going to drama classes, and I was certain that Kenny would go too – she’ll do anything for a laugh. I wasn’t sure that it was exactly my kind of thing, but was I going to miss out? No way!
After the Brownie meeting Fliss was still excited about the drama class.
“You will all be able to go, won’t you?” she kept asking.
“Oh Fliss, put a sock in it!” groaned Frankie. “We’ll ask when we get home. OK?”
I knew that Mum and Dad wouldn’t mind me going, as long as it didn’t affect my school work. As it was kind of near the end of term anyway, I couldn’t see that happening. Unfortunately my stupid brothers found out about the drama class too, and wouldn’t stop taking the mickey out of me.
“You might get a part in one of those vet programmes,” suggested Stuart my eldest brother, who helps out on the local farm whenever he can.
“Yeah, as one of the animals!” laughed Tom. He’s fourteen, so you’d think he might be a bit more mature than that. Listening to Ben and Spike laugh, you’d think he’d cracked the funniest joke ever. But I suppose when you’re four like Ben, anything’s funny – and Spike is only a baby, so he doesn’t know any better.
Still, their endless teasing about me trying to act really got on my nerves, and I’d a good mind to say that I couldn’t go to the drama class after all. Of course I didn’t, because when I saw the others the next day they were still all really keen on it and we always tend to do stuff together.
So the next week, on Wednesday 26th May, we found ourselves at St. Mark’s Church Hall in Cuddington, not really knowing what to expect. But you know what? It was the start of one of our craziest adventures yet!
To be honest with you, I didn’t really know what to expect from the drama class. I kind of hoped it would be like The Biz with loads of cool kids strutting about, but that kind of thing is never really going to happen in Cuddington!
“So what do you think we’ll be doing in this class?” asked Rosie, looking about her nervously. We were waiting outside the hall with a few other people. The doors were locked, which wasn’t a good sign.
“Never mind what we’re going to be doing, are you sure there is a class here?” said Kenny, looking a bit fidgety. “I’m going to give this another five minutes, then I’m off!”
“It’s only six o’clock now,” said Fliss. “There’s no need to be so impatient.”
“I hate waiting around,” Kenny replied through gritted teeth, and went to climb the tree behind the hall.
“Well that’s not going to impress the drama teacher very much, is it?” sniffed Fliss. “I don’t know why Kenny always has to be so aggressive.”
It’s true that Kenny is kind of impatient and wants everything done yesterday, but I guess we were all getting a bit twitchy. It’s the ‘fear of the unknown’, as Dad sometimes says.
I looked around at the other people waiting. Most of them were about our age and most of them were girls. I recognised quite a few of them from Brownies. There was a small group of older children who all seemed to know each other too. One of them looked very like one of Tom’s mates, Daniel. I kind of wanted to go up to him to say “Hi”, but I felt too nervous and wimped out.
Suddenly there was this enormous bang and a sort of spluttering sound. A really battered old car had come to a halt just outside the hall.
“Crikey, look at that!” whispered Rosie.
“It looks as though it’s going to fall to pieces at any minute!” breathed Frankie.
We were all busy staring at the car when this bright red shape stepped out of it and stood in the road, beaming at us. It was a woman with loads of purply-coloured hair piled on top of her head.
“That, my darlings, is known as making an entrance!” she laughed. She had this incredibly deep voice and the most fabulous earrings, which looked just like birds hovering above her shoulders. The group of older children burst out laughing and clapped really loudly. Fliss looked both embarrassed and annoyed with them at the same time.
“Ah thank you, my loyal fans!” The woman shrieked with laughter. “You know how I love an audience! Now Daniel, can you help me with my things? You too, Sophie. And the rest of us had better get inside.”
She marched up to the door and tried to push it open. It wouldn’t budge because it was locked. We all knew that, but she just didn’t seem to believe it. As she heaved her body against it, everybody had a good look at her. She was wearing all these floaty layers of clothes. Her skirt came to her ankles, and so did the long waistcoat she was wearing over the top of it. They were both bright red, but her top underneath was orange. I’d never seen anyone wear colours like that together before. When she turned round to smile at us we could see that her lipstick was a deep red, and she had painted black lines above her eyelashes. She looked kind of exotic.
“Do I have the key?” she asked, as if that was something we should know. I guess we all looked a bit blank, because she started to rummage in her enormous handbag.
“I suppose I must have, let me see now!”
All sorts of things started spilling on to the ground: a fat notebook with all its pages hanging out, a Mickey Mouse purse, three lipsticks (one without a top), a cheque-book covered in gooey red stuff (lipstick probably) and finally a fat bunch of keys.
“Ah,