Free Little Swan by Adèle Geras Page A

up in our bedroom. She’d stuck it on the dressing-table mirror – right in the middle so that you couldn’t see your whole face at once. After a few days, I knew that list by heart.

    Everything was now safely shut up in the suitcase.
    “Don’t be late home from school today, Annie,” said Weezer firmly. “Remember you’re taking me. We have to leave at four o’clock exactly.”
    “I know,” I said. “You’ve told me. I won’t be late. Promise.”
    I wasn’t late, but Weezer made me drink mymilk at top speed. She’d changed her mind. We would leave, she told me, at ten to four.
    “We’ll be early,” I said. “And anyway, I want a biscuit.”
    “The traffic may be very busy. There might be an accident. We might have to go the long way around.” Weezer has a very vivid imagination. I swallowed the last drop of milk and took a biscuit to eat on the way. Sometimes, I just had to listen to Weezer. She would only walk out of the house on her own if I wasn’t ready.
    There are twenty girls and five boys in the junior ballet class. The teacher, Miss Matting, is a thin, pale woman with a lot of blonde hair done up in a bun on top of her head. One whole wall of the room is a mirror. All the children lined up at the barre along this wall for their exercises. I sat on a bench and watched.
    Weezer stood between two girls from her class at school. I never realized how much she already knew about ballet. She knew the five foot positions and a few of the basic exercises. I had seen Tricia and Maisie teaching her in the playground. Also, for her last birthday, Mumhad given her a book full of beautiful photographs of ballerinas and Weezer had looked at it very carefully every day. Miss Matting brought her out to the front to teach her how to curtsy properly.
    “That’s good,” she said when Weezer had curtsied perfectly. “You’re naturally very graceful. I’m sure you’ll do well at ballet.” Weezer’s face was pink with pleasure. She looked at me, to make sure I’d heard. Tricia and Maisie looked proud that she’d done so well. Perhaps they’d been teaching her curtsies at school along with all the other things.
    I heard one of the other girls whispering to her friend, “I bet she was at another class before she came here.” I felt proud of Weezer too.
    While the class continued, I looked around the room. It has a very high ceiling and lots of long, narrow windows. The floor is made of polished wood. There is an upright piano in one corner, and the pianist is a plump, elderly lady who kept her hat on all through the class. The bunch of cherries she had pinned to it jumped about as she nodded her head in time to the music. Later on, Weezer told me her name is Mrs Standish.
    At the end of the lesson, Miss Matting said, “Please sit down, children. I have an important announcement to make. We must start thinking about our annual show. We’re going to do some very interesting dances this year. I shall be watching you all closely, and in a few weeks’ time we will have auditions. Of course, everyone will have a chance to take part in the show,but there is a special dance we’re going to do this year. I shall need four girl soloists. I’m sure you’ll all try to do your best.”

    I glanced at Weezer. Her eyes were as wide open as they could be, and her mouth was open too. This was exactly the kind of competition that my sister loves, and I just knew that she’d already set her heart on being one of the chosen four.

AFTER THE CLASS , Weezer almost flew over the pavement. She was swinging her pink suitcase backwards and forwards.
    “Oh, Annie,” she said. “It was great. Wasn’t it great? And there’s going to be a show! A real show! I wish it was next week. Hurry up! I have to practise after supper. Come on!”
    Weezer was walking so fast that she nearly knocked over one of our neighbours, Mrs Posnansky. She is a thin, small woman who wears her grey hair in a bun. Her dresses are mostly black, but