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best holidays. I remember in Singapore once, when I was ten, she was so caught up doing the tour that she flew out of the country, completely forgetting I was back in the hotel room.’
    Natasha tries to scowl at me without losing her composed smile. The photographer leans forward to catch this ‘unexpectedly intimate’ moment and Pip starts scribbling furiously on her notepad.
    Silly me. There was I thinking Uluru or the Great Barrier Reef and some mother-daughter bonding time, but no, the holiday was always going to be trailing around the world after Natasha Willis, prima ballerina. I’ll be watching from the wings for the thousandth time as she pretends yet again to bea sweet sixteen-year-old girl being woken from a hundred years’ sleep.
    ‘Let’s reset,’ I say and go back to the start.

CHAPTER 7
    Natasha’s European tour wasn’t a complete disaster. She was a triumph of course but I did manage to keep the loving daughter duties down to a minimum and escape from time to time. Okay, probably more than from time to time. I think I know ‘you’re grounded’ in six different languages. And I brought a souvenir back with me. Some people bring back mini Eiffel Towers from France, or chocolates from Belgium, I’ve brought back a boyfriend.
    Lucas is the reason the hotel rooms of Europe were bearable. His parents are diplomats so he’s probably the only person who has travelled around more than me, though he’s eighteen so he does have two years head start.
    He is amazing. There isn’t a city in the world where he doesn’t know where there’s a great party, abrilliant bar or an awesome band playing. His life is pure party and I think he’s probably an even bigger rule breaker than me. Best of all, my mother took an instant dislike to him. That makes him just about perfect in my book. He’s my very own Diplobrat.
    When I get to the Academy boarding house with Lucas in tow, I discover he’s not my only good news for the start of the new semester. Rumi, the roommate of the foul smells and peculiar habits, didn’t make the cut at the end of semester one. There’s now an empty bed in my room and it’s got Tara’s name on it.
    I drag Lucas down to the Academy to find Tara and share glad tidings. She’s already on her toes in one of the practice rooms doing
barre
work. If I didn’t know her better, I’d call in Bunheads Anonymous for an intervention. Semester hasn’t even officially started and she’s already practising.
    ‘Hi honey, I’m home!’ I shout out as I enter. Tara waddles over to me flatfooted and almost goes
derriere
over
pointe
shoe. Her questions fly out. ‘When did you get back? Was Europe amazing? Did Natasha really ground you in the hotel?’
    I tell her about Rumi and introduce Diplobrat just before Miss Raine sweeps in and ‘hopes’ we’ve all been practising during the holidays. Then she announces Tara has a ‘private session’. It’s all way too serious soLucas and I make a quick getaway. I can see that this semester I’ll have my work cut out for me bringing some light to the heavy dance atmosphere.
    I don’t realise quite how serious things have gotten at the Academy until later when Tara and I are packing her stuff up to move into my room. I’m telling her about Diplobrat.
    ‘His mother’s an
attaché
case or something. Natasha loathes him. It drove her crazy when he kept turning up.’
    Tara’s acting weird. I’m expecting excited girl talk but I’m not feeling the love from her.
    ‘What? Don’t you like him?’ I ask.
    ‘It’s not that. Miss Raine just gave me the third degree. According to her I can’t hang out with you and be serious about dancing,’ Tara tells me.
    ‘She can’t tell you who to be friends with. What is this – primary school?’
    I totally get that Tara won the scholarship last semester and so needs to ‘focus’ but this is ridiculous.
    Still, I’ve got a horrid feeling that Tara is thinking about taking Miss Raine seriously. On the