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. Look at the end of each story to learn a special dance step from me …
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 …
Holly Wilde swept her arms in a circle and danced forward with slow steps to the haunting, beautiful music. She stopped on her right leg, one arm above her head, the other out to the side. She paused, before gracefully bringing her arm down and moving around her bedroom, turning slowly again and again, lost in her dance.
Holly loved the ballet of Sleeping Beauty. Most people remembered the Rose Adagio, the famous dance that the princess did before she pricked her finger, but Holly had always preferred the piece of music she was dancing to now, where Sleeping Beauty appeared to the prince in a magic vision. It had a lilting, slightly ghostly melody. Sweeping her arms upwards, she pirouetted around as the music came to an end. She stopped, trembling with the joy of dancing. Closing her eyes, she imagined that she had just danced off stage and that the audience were clapping wildly.
Just like they did when Mum danced it in New York …
Sinking down on to her bed, Holly glanced at the photoframe on the chest of drawers of her mum, Bella. Her eyes, the same mossy-green as Holly’s, were shining. Her dark hair was caught up in a diamond tiara.
Holly picked the picture up, her own straight dark hair falling forward across her face. Her heart ached. Oh Mum, she thought, for about the thousandth time, why did you have to leave me here? Why couldn’t I have stayed with you?
She remembered the day she had come to live at Aunt Maria’s and Uncle Ted’s, back in July. She heard her mum’s words as she had left: “I’ll miss you so much, darling. But you’re ten now and you can’t keep on travelling around with me, you need to stay in one place, go to one school and make friends. Aunt Maria and Uncle Ted will look after you and in the holidays you can come and join me or your dad just as you always have.”
“But I don’t want to stay here,” Holly had protested.
“I know,” her mum had said softly, tears in her eyes. “But you have to. We’ll see each other soon.”
She had kissed Holly and then she had gone. She had phoned and emailed lots, but she was touring America and it was so far away that Holly hadn’t been able to visit her. She had seen her dad for a few weeks in August when he had been performing in London. He was a dancer too, but he and her mum had got divorced six years ago, so she only ever saw him separately.
And now here she was. Midway through a new term and taking ballet classes after school. She’d started at Madame Za-Za’s just before the summer holidays, but she hadn’t really made much of an effort to make friends with any of the other girls. She had just felt too unhappy and, anyway, with all the moving round she’d done in her life, she’d learned it was better not to make friends. You only ended up having to say goodbye. And so she’d kept herself pretty much to herself in Madame Za-Za’s class, concentrating on her ballet and coldly brushing off all the other girls’ offers of friendship. To her relief, they had quickly decided to leave her alone.
Well, all apart from one …
Rosa Maitland had been really friendly. She’d left to go to the Royal Ballet School in London, but before she’d gone, she had given Holly a pair of old red ballet shoes. Holly kept them on a shelf above her desk. The words Rosa had said as she had pushed them into Holly’s hands echoed through her head: “I hope you find out how special they are.”
Holly frowned and, getting up, went over to them. They were old and the leather was very soft, but there didn’t seem to be anything that special about them as far as she could see. Picking them up, she felt a tingle, like the faintest electric shock. Maybe she’d try them on again anyway …
“Holly! Time to go to ballet!” Aunt Maria’s voice called up the stairs.
Holly put the shoes down on her desk and hurried out of the room.
Head up, shoulders down, extend the arms, remember to smile …
Holly and the other girls in her class at Madame Za-Za’s ballet school went through the familiar sequence of exercises, first at the barre and then in the centre of the room.
Holly