Chapter 26
NETTA
Netta had sneaked into the auditorium to watch the screening, but she’d stood right up at the wall at the back.
She’d been almost the last one in before they’d locked the doors, because she’d been mobbed in the canteen until right before the show started.
The students that had come in to help her, including that lovely lass, Ava, had worked their socks off, and even Jessie and Georgie had pitched in too – although Georgie had been serving bottles of water from a seated position because the poor thing’s back was killing her.
Netta could relate. She’d been the size of a garden hut before she’d given birth to both Mandy and Blair.
She’d decided to stay up at the doors so that she could nip out before the screening ended, to make sure she was back in the canteen and ready to serve drinks to guests who would be attending the VIP reception after the show.
Although, it might have been a mistake to stand, given that her feet were killing her in her smart shoes.
She had a moment of longing for her trusty Crocs, even though they’d never have matched this dress.
The lights had just dimmed after Ollie’s introduction speech, when Blair had sneaked in and stood next to her. ‘Are you worried about the lights, son?’ she’d asked, naturally concerned about the potential for another power outage.
Thankfully, he’d shaken his head. ‘Not in here. This room was all rewired in the renovation. As long as the live feed starts on that screen, then we’re good,’ he’d told her.
The next sound she’d heard was his whisper of, ‘Yesssss!’ when it kicked in and the show began to play and, oh thank goodness, because what wonderful memories it brought back.
It was terrific to see the early days, when they were all working in rubble, and she was taking care of the basic teas and coffees for the construction crews.
It made her quite emotional to see all those students she’d come to know so well, as wide-eyed newbies on their first day.
And then she’d been astounded when the next episode had started and one of the first scenes showed the canteen, in all its glory.
Of course, she’d known that cameras had been installed that covered the room – just like everyone else, she’d signed a release form to allow them to use all footage – but the truth was, after the first week or so, she’d completely forgotten that they were there and just got on with life as normal.
Business as usual. She hadn’t thought for a second that they’d ever use anything from there when there was so much other exciting, dramatic stuff going on in other parts of the building.
Apparently, she’d been wrong.
Because the scene that was playing now, making her stomach turn and her legs shake under the dirndl skirt of her yellow dress, was one that she remembered only too well. She watched on, no longer standing with sore feet, but transported right back to that moment in time.
The tension in the air had been palpable as student after student came in that morning, all revved up and sitting at various places along the scale between excited and terrified.
Audition days were always like this, so she was used to it by now and always had a few extra packets of Tunnocks teacakes on hand in case anyone needed a bit of a pick-me-up during the day.
She wasn’t having anyone swigging back those energy drinks on her watch – not when a teacake could be used for medicinal purposes.
This was the third round of auditions for the Christmas show and it had been cut down to six girls still vying for the female lead.
‘Netta, you’re going to love this – we’re going with the theme of Female Power Ballads,’ Ginny had told her the night before. ‘So the halls will be alive with the sound of all the greats tomorrow.’
Netta had been so pleased to hear it, she’d been inspired to go home and watch The Bodyguard in bed that night. If Kevin Costner wanted to sweep her off her feet, she’d have got off that plane in a heartbeat and clutched on to his ankles until he was the one who’d have to call security.
Anyway, that had set her up for a good day, and then the sound of all the girls rehearsing in various nooks of the Academy all morning had her singing along as she worked.
It had been interesting to see the different personalities and the way they handled it too.
Some of them were super-confident. Some were studious and serious.
And then there was wee Ava Strang, sitting on her own at a corner table, eyes closed, and by the very slight sound that was coming from her lips, Netta had known exactly what song she planned to sing.
One of her favourites. An old classic. And a bit of a surprise given that the song had been out before this lass was born.
She’d slipped a Tunnocks teacake and a bottle of water onto the table next time she passed, right before Ava had been called through, and Netta had said a wee prayer for her as she’d headed off in the direction of the auditorium.
Not that she was religious, but a word with the heavens never went amiss.
Besides, she’d had no one else to talk to because the canteen was empty now that everyone had headed back to their classes or auditions.
It wasn’t even ten minutes later that Ava had come tearing back in, tears streaming down her face. ‘I messed it up. I messed it up. I messed it up. Oh God, Netta, I messed…’
Netta had dropped the tray of sausage rolls she’d just taken out of the oven onto the steel countertop and rushed over to her. ‘It’s okay, pet, just breathe. Sit there. That’s it. Okay, and breathe.’
What a state she was in. No amount of chocolate snacks was going to fix this.
‘Tell me what happened.’
It had taken Ava a minute before she’d calmed down enough to speak.
‘When I got there, I realised that the girl that went two before me had chosen a Celine Dion song – the one from Titanic – and, Netta, she was so much better than I could ever be.’
‘I don’t believe that for a second.’ Netta wasn’t just saying that to make her feel better. She’d heard Ava perform and rehearse many times and she thought she was spectacular. All she had to do was bring her confidence up to match her talent.
‘Honestly, she was, Netta. And then that got all in my head, and when it was my turn, I was standing there, on the stage, and everyone was watching me. And then I opened my mouth and nothing came out because… because… what was the point? I could never be that good. And that was all I could think, so my mind went blank and I couldn’t remember the words either. ’
Guiding her gently by the shoulders, Netta had steered her over to the nearest chair and sat her down, then she’d kneeled in front of her, so that she could look her right in the eye.
‘Ava, I’ve heard you, and for my money – and don’t you repeat this because I don’t like to show favourites – but you’re one of the best singers in here. You just have to believe in yourself.’
‘But, Netta—’
‘Ava, I don’t ever cut anyone off when they’re speaking, because I prefer to listen to what they have to say, but I’m not going to let you criticise yourself.
Listen, love, in this world, there will be enough people who’ll queue up to do that, especially in the industry that you want to be in.
And there’ll be folk like that in life too.
I used to listen to them, and that was my problem.
I took in all the voices, the real ones and the one in my head that thought I wasn’t good enough.
And you know what, pet? I regret that every day.
So don’t you make the same mistake. Repeat after me – I’m Ava… ’
For a moment, Netta had been worried that she hadn’t got the message through. Then she’d heard a quiet… ‘I’m Ava.’
‘That’s it. Okay, keep going… I’m Ava, and I’m bloody brilliant.’
That got something close to a laugh out of the young lass. ‘I’m Ava, and I’m bloody brilliant.’
‘And I sing this song so well that Celine Dion might be my maw.’
Netta hadn’t been able to resist using the Glaswegian term for mother because it just felt like it would make Ava smile. She wasn’t wrong. Ava’s laugh was almost a splutter through her tears now.
‘And I sing this song so well that Celine Dion might be my maw.’ She’d giggled as she’d added, ‘My mum will kill me for saying that.’
‘Well, we’ll just keep that between us then,’ Netta said, grinning.
‘Okay, I used to have a trick when I was nervous too.’ Netta hadn’t been sure if she should say it.
She wasn’t a professional coach. She’d never done anything more than sing in the bath, the kitchen and in her local pub.
But she had always been nervous, and this was the only thing that had got her through.
And well, if it got this lass on the stage, what harm could it do?
‘Sing the first line or two, with your eyes closed.’
Netta wasn’t sure why, other than she wanted to show the lass that it worked, but to prove her point, she’d closed her eyes and sang the first line. When she’d opened them, Ava was staring intently at her.
‘Right, pet, on you go. Your turn.’
The young one did as she was told, and then Netta had done the same with the second line.
Again, Ava copied her.
‘That’s it. And then open your eyes on the next line, and pick a person in the room and sing every word of it to them.’
She’d seen that Ava’s whole posture was relaxing, as if her confidence was being poured right back into her. Netta might not be great at much else other than being a devoted listener and making a smashing scone, but she knew how to make someone feel better.
‘Right, well, your throat will be tight with all that crying, and you want to go in there ready to sing, so what you’re going to do is run through the song right here with me, and then you’ll go back in there, apologise for running out, tell them you’re ready, and do it all over again. Are you good?’
‘Bloody brilliant,’ Ava had replied with a cheeky grin. Yep, she was definitely feeling better.
‘Okay, let’s go… Close your eyes.’
The lass had done as she was told, and Netta had been right there with her. The two of them, eyes closed, had sung the first line, then the second, they’d opened their eyes, the third line was a soft one too. They’d finished the first verse that way and then…
‘Let’s get this chorus, Ava,’ Netta had chuckled, pulling her up and using Ava’s water bottle as a microphone.
If anyone had walked in, they’d have seen two women, on opposite ends of the age spectrum, belt out ‘Think Twice’ as if their lives depended on it.
And they were both so truly bloody brilliant, Celine Dion could indeed be their maw.
If she was approximately ninety-two in Netta’s case.
Now, standing at the back of the auditorium, behind two hundred other people, it was Netta who had tears falling down her face. She’d had no idea that any of that had been filmed. She didn’t know if Ava had got the part she was auditioning for.
But what she did know?
Mandy had asked her this morning where the young Netta had gone to. Well, there was her answer.
That was the young Netta McGonigle up there on the screen belting out the chorus of ‘Think Twice’ for the whole world to hear.