Holly and the Dancing Cat. Darcey Bussell

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 worked hard. Madame Za-Za was a very elegant woman with greying-brown hair held up in a loose bun and lots of bangles. Holly knew Madame Za-Za had been a prima ballerina when she was younger. Her mum had said what an amazing teacher she was, but although Holly worked hard, she longed to be back with her mum, learning from her instead.

      “Into pairs,” Madame Za-Za called as she turned to change the music on the CD player.

      There was usually an even number of girls in the class so someone always had to go with Holly, but that day one of the girls was away and she was left on her own, the other girls pairing up quickly. Eventually there were just two of the newer girls left, Chloe and Alyssia. They raced past where Holly was standing in the middle to take each other’s hands. As they met up, they smiled in relief.

      Holly felt a pang. She didn’t want to make friends, but it was hard to be left out quite so obviously. Chloe happened to glance at her and looked suddenly guilty. “Holly, you could come with us … make a three,” she called impulsively.

      Holly heard the horror in Alyssia’s hiss. “Chloe!”

      “No thanks,” said Holly, folding her arms and turning away.

      Just then, Madame Za-Za looked round. “Ah, Holly, you haven’t got a partner. Why don’t you …”

      “I’ll dance on my own,” Holly interrupted. No one ever interrupted Madame Za-Za, who was quite strict, but Holly couldn’t bear the thought of being made to join a pair and watch the other two girls exchange looks. She knew she sounded haughty, but she didn’t care.

      Madame Za-Za raised an eyebrow. “Very well,” she said, her eyes sweeping back to the other girls. “Now everyone, I’d like you to listen to this piece of music and imagine you are two leaves on the branch of a tree in autumn, fluttering in the breeze, about to fall …”

      Holly danced on her own. I don’t care. I don’t care. She kept repeating the words in her head as she let the music flow over her, taking her away and making her feel like she was falling on the breeze, turning around, using her movements to express the feelings of wistfulness and sadness inside her.

      I don’t want to be friends with any of them anyway. I don’t need them, she thought and then she lost herself in the music and thought no more.

      “Very good expressive work, Holly,” Madame Za-Za praised at the end.

      Holly gave her a small, tight smile. Now that the dancing was over she wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. As soon as Madame Za-Za dismissed them, Holly hurried away.

      I’ll put Sleeping Beauty on again, she told herself as she changed out of her ballet shoes. Her muscles were aching from hard work, but she knew the one thing that would make her feel better was dancing.

      Cramming her stuff into her bag, she left the changing rooms.

      “Holly, wait!” she heard a voice call as she half-ran down the corridor.

      She turned round and saw Chloe, coming out of the changing rooms. “I’m sorry you had to dance on your own today,” she said. She hesitated. “Um, you could always come round to mine sometime. I don’t know many people here, either.”

      Holly was sure she saw pity in Chloe’s blue eyes. Unhappiness swept through her. How dare Chloe pity her! She’d travelled all over the world and met more ballet dancers than Chloe could even dream of.

      “Why don’t you ask your mum if you can come round for tea next week?” Chloe suggested.

      Holly’s temper exploded. “I’m hardly likely to ask my mum when she’s in America, am I? Anyway, I don’t want to be friends with you or with anyone here. Just leave me alone!”

      And, swinging round, Holly stormed out of the front door.

      

      Holly ran down the drive of the ballet school, her feet slipping slightly on the fallen leaves. It was October now and the sun was low in the sky.