Page 14 of The New Girl

Safa smiled. ‘There are plenty of idiots in Syria too.’

They giggled.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Ruby

Mr Parson, the drama teacher, held up his hands.

‘Drumroll, please,’ he said.

The class all tapped their feet on the floor to make a sound like a drumroll.

‘This year, our Christmas musical will be’ – he paused for dramatic effect – ‘The Wizard of Oz.’

There were some oohs, some aahs and some boos from the class.

Ignoring the boos, Mr Parson told them, ‘Auditions will take place next week. Don’t worry, everyone will have something to do. If you don’t get a part in the actual play then you’ll be helping backstage.’

Ruby clasped her hands together under her desk. She loved that movie and Dorothy was an amazing part. She wanted to play her so badly. She’d have to watch the movie and study the words and music really well so that she was perfectly prepared for the auditions.

Ruby loved acting. She loved disappearing into a character and pretending to be someone else. She loved the way it took you out of your own life and into someone else’s. Drama was by miles her favourite class and the only one she was good at.

She’d got a major role in the fourth-class production ofThe Lion Kinglast year and somehow was able to remember all her lines, even though there were loads of them. She was also quite a good singer. Amber was a better singer, but she was a rubbish actress, so Ruby had got the role of Nala in the play and it was amazing.

The costumes were incredible. She had really looked like a lioness. Orla had helped her do her make-up, which was a miracle.

She’d told her mum and dad a million times about the date it was on and they swore they would come. ‘Nothing will stop us,’ they had said.

But then Robbie had got pneumonia and they’d had to go to hospital with him and they hadn’t seen her. Orla had videoed some of it on her phone, but it was rubbish and when Mum and Dad had watched it and tried to be all positive about it Ruby had wanted to cry. They hadn’t seen her starring on her big night. They’d missed it. They missed everything and it was always because of Robbie.

Ruby wasn’t going to get her hopes up this year; there was no point. Her parents would promise to come and then not turn up, or they would turn up and then fall asleep, like they had when she was in third class at the Christmas carols. Her dad had actually snored his way through. It was so embarrassing.

Safa looked over at Ruby. ‘I hope you get the main part,’ she whispered.

Ruby reddened. ‘Oh, I probably won’t, but thanks.’

It was Ruby’s last official day minding Safa. One full week was over. It hadn’t been that bad, actually. Safa was OK. A bit serious and way too into her schoolwork, but she was nice and she hadn’t stolen any of Ruby’s things.

Denise and Clara liked her too. Clara asked a lot of questions, though. Ruby could see that sometimes Safa didn’t want to talk about the war in Syria and what it was like to be a refugee. But Clara was relentless. She’d obviously been going home and talking to her mum about it and then Googling facts and coming back into school with more complicated questions.

At lunchtime, they sat together, and Clara started again. ‘So I read that since March 2011, fighting in Syria has killed half a million people, injured more than one million, and forced over twelve million people from their homes.’ Clara sounded like Wikipedia when she came out with her facts and figures. Ruby didn’t know how she remembered it all. She obviously had a big melon-sized brain and Ruby had a small pea-sized brain.

‘Twelve million? That’s like three times the population of Ireland!’ Denise was shocked.

‘Are any of your cousins or friends from home living in Ireland?’ Clara asked.

Safa shook her head.

‘None?’ Clara insisted.

‘Stop asking,’ Denise hissed. ‘Maybe they’re D – E – A – D.’

‘Safa can spell,’ Ruby snapped.

‘Sorry,’ Denise said, looking embarrassed.

‘It’s OK,’ said Safa. ‘Some of my family were killed, an uncle and aunt and three cousins. Also, my grandparents on my father’s side.’

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