Free Olivia's First Term by Lyn Gardner Page B

her mum a big hug, but her stomach had lurched at the thought that she might have to leave.
    She started playing a Mozart piece. She wasn’t playing well but Olivia, walking past the room, heard the music and was transported back to a glorious summer in Ireland when Jack had used the same piece for part of his act. Quietly she opened the door and crept in to listen.
    â€œI enjoyed your playing,” she said when Georgia had finished.
    Georgia turned round and smiled hesitantly. “I like it because it sounds how I feel inside.”
    â€œSad?” said Olivia, surprised.
    Georgia nodded.
    â€œBut you always look pretty happy to me.”
    â€œIt’s called putting an act,” said Georgia. She took a deep breath. “Sometimes I think I’m better at acting being me than I am at actually being me.” She beckoned Olivia over to squeeze next to her on the piano stool and they sat together, their backs to the open door.
    â€œSometimes,” said Olivia, “I don’t like being me at all and wish I could be someone else. I used to be comfortable in my own skin. I knew who I was, what I was good at and where I belonged in the universe. Now I don’t even recognise myself. I’m snappy and miserable all the time. How do you bear it here?”
    Georgia looked surprised. “But I love it at the Swan! I’m dead scared that I’m going to have to leave. My mum doesn’t think she can manage the fees after the end of this term. I love the singing and the dancing and the acting. I know you think acting is silly, but when you’re doing it, it doesn’t feel silly at all – it’s thrilling – andwhen you’re doing it well you can feel that the audience is thrilled too. They believe entirely in the world that you are creating; for that moment nothing else matters to them or to you. It’s as if your entire life, your past and your future only exists in that single moment.”
    â€œI feel like that when I’m on the wire,” said Olivia.
    â€œThe wire?” asked Georgia.
    â€œThe high-wire.”
    â€œYou can do that?” Georgia asked admiringly.
    â€œYup.”
    â€œThat’s so cool. Can I watch you?” asked Georgia shyly.
    â€œFat chance,” replied Olivia grumpily. “My gran hates the circus and there’s nowhere to practise.”
    â€œBet you’re amazing.”
    â€œReally?” said Olivia with sarcasm in her voice. “I’m the baby ballet girl, remember. The one you and your friend Katie Wilkes-Cox make fun of at every chance.”
    Georgia turned beetroot red. “I never meant—” she protested.
    â€œBut you still do it,” snapped Olivia. Therewas an uncomfortable silence.
    â€œI know it’s no excuse, but I don’t join in.”
    â€œBut you’re there, and you don’t say anything and you never raise a finger to stop it, do you? I don’t know if that makes you any better than Katie, and in fact it might make you worse. You let somebody else do the dirty work, look anguished but you don’t actually protest.”
    â€œNo,” whispered Georgia. “I don’t. I’m a coward.”
    Olivia looked at her. “Oh, please don’t cry, Georgia,” said Olivia. “I’m as much a coward as you are. I never tell anyone what she’s doing. But I’ve made such a bad start at the Swan, I know that nobody would believe me. She may be a rubbish Miranda, but Katie’s a very good little actress. In front of the teachers she acts as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. She opens her eyes wide and smiles that irritating little smile and everybody falls for it, even my gran.”
    She looked hard at Georgia. “Even you aren’t prepared to speak up against her when she’s done something truly dreadful. You didn’t fall at the newbies’ concert, did you? You were pushed, and you think Katie did