Dazzling Danny

Dazzling Danny
Jean Ure

Karen Donnelly

Danny loves dancing, but not the funky, popular variety that would have his friends green with envy; no, Danny loves Ballet. A ‘Billy Elliot’ for younger readers by this renowned ballet-loving author.Danny loves ballet, but he daren’t admit it to his mates. But one of his teacher’s knows, and she casts Danny in the starring ballet role in the end of term show at school. But Danny is also in the school football team and the rehearsals for the show clash with team nights. How can be maintain his cool with his peers and still star in the performance. Mixups and mayhen ensue as several fibs are told to parents, friends and siblings. But at the end of the day, is Danny sick as a parrot or over the moon? On performance night, Danny is simply DAZZLING!

Table of Contents

Title Page (#u0c0b135d-4fd9-506a-a3a0-ccc70eee2036)

Chapter One (#u826f1414-b03b-50df-b9f8-ac197de5579c)

Chapter Two (#u34fb935f-2a17-56b8-a7d7-4712d95f83ef)

Chapter Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Also by the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter One (#ulink_63ce248c-0da9-56e3-9d49-99884904fa1a)

Hi! I’m Danny Allbright. Dazzling Danny! That’s what they call me. Dazzling Danny, or Danny the Dazzle. Sometimes just Dazzler. It really used to embarrass me when they first started doing it. That was back last term. The spring term. We’re nearly at the end of summer, now, so I guess I’ve kind of got used to it. It doesn’t bother me any more. Even my dad sometimes goes, “Hey! Dazzler!” And on my birthday my gran sent me a card that said, “To Danny the Dazzle.” Trust Gran! She always gets things wrong. She’s a really funny lady.

Anyway, about this dazzle thing. It all began one morning when Miss Pringle, who’s our class teacher, said she wanted to talk to us.

“About the show.”

Year 6 always do a show at the end of the spring term. Last year it had been Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. That was brilliant! I went to see it with Mum and Dad. I wished it could be Charlie and the Chocolate Factory again this year, so I could play Charlie, but Miss Pringle said that this year we were going to do something new. Something that had been written specially for us by Mr Hubbard. Mr Hubbard takes Year 5. He’s OK, I quite like him, but I didn’t think he could write anything as good as Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

I looked across at Darryl, and pulled a face. Darryl pulled one back.

I was sitting at a table with three others. Darryl Tyson, who is my best friend; Clint Parker, who is my worst enemy; and Joseph Brodrick, who is quite boring (but otherwise not bad).

Miss Pringle began telling us about the show. Her eyes were all shiny. She was really excited, you could tell. The show was going to be called Go For It! which I have to say is quite a good title. At any rate, it made me and Darryl sit up properly and start listening.

“It’s a musical,” said Miss Pringle.

Yeah! Me and Darryl kicked each other under the table. Musical was OK.

“It’s all about getting somewhere.”

Clint immediately yelled, “You wanna get somewhere? Try taking the bus!”

Some of the girls groaned. Coral Cookson turned round and hissed, “Shut your mouth, Clint Parker!” Miss Pringle just acted like he’d never said anything. He’s a very annoying sort of person.

“The message is,” said Miss Pringle, “that we can all get somewhere if we just… go for it! What is important is to have a goal… Something to aim for. You want to be a footballer? Go for it! Want to be a popstar? Go for it! Want to be a—”

“Teacher!” said Clint, and made a rude trumpeting noise down his nose. Everybody laughed; even me. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it. Clint can be quite funny sometimes.

Miss Pringle didn’t seem to mind. She said, “Thank you, Clint! Good suggestion. I’ll bear it in mind.”

Lucy Flowers wanted to know what everyone else was going to do. “The ones that aren’t dreaming of being things.”

Miss Pringle said that everyone else would be, like, a backing group. “There to give encouragement and to show that it can be done… if you just go for it. So!” She looked down at a sheet of paper she was holding. “We’d like you all to be in it, though you’ll have to get your parents’ permission, of course. Don’t worry if you can’t sing or dance, there are lots of speaking parts as well. This is what we thought… singers.”

From her sheet of paper she read out eight names. I wasn’t one of them, but that was all right. I can’t sing! My mum always stuffs her fingers in her ears when I try to sing. Next, Miss Pringle read out the names of six dancers. I certainly wasn’t one of them! Dancing wasn’t my scene. No way! The six dancers were all girls. Clint Parker immediately objected. He shouted out, in a loud voice, “Why’s it all girls?”

“It doesn’t have to be” said Miss Pringle. “I’d be delighted to have some boys! Do you want to volunteer?”

That scared him! He kept quiet for the next few minutes.

“I only chose girls because I happen to know that these six all take dancing lessons,” said Miss Pringle. “But if there are any boys…”

She gazed hopefully about the room. Darryl stuck his elbow in my ribs: I stuck mine in his. Darryl could volunteer if he liked! I wasn’t going to.

“No one?” Miss Pringle sounded disappointed, but not particularly surprised. ‘All right! Let’s move on to the speakers.”

I relaxed. I didn’t mind being a speaker! Miss Pringle read out the names.

“Lucy Flowers, Joseph Brodrick, Sheralee Johnson..!’

She came to the end – and I wasn’t there! I was the only person in the whole class who hadn’t got a part! I knew I couldn’t sing or dance, but I could speak all right. Why hadn’t she included me?

Darryl kicked me again under the table. He’d noticed that I’d been left out. Even Darryl was one of the speakers! He’s useless at reading out loud; far worse than I am. But even he was going to be in the show!

And then Miss Pringle said, “Danny!” and everyone turned and looked at me, including Clint, who crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue. “There’s something special that I want Danny to do. But we’re going to have to talk about it, so I’d like you to come and see me afterwards. All right?”

Clint went, ‘All right?” in a silly sort of voice. He was one of the speakers, too. I was suddenly glad that I wasn’t going to be a speaker. I was going to be something special!

I spent the rest of the class wondering what it could possibly be and why Miss Pringle wanted to talk about it. What could I do that no one else could? Nothing, as far as I knew. I was the only one in my family who wasn’t gifted. My mum and dad both run for the county. Dad runs long distance, Mum’s a sprinter. They’ve both won medals. They’ve even been given special Achievement Awards by the Mayor. My sister Carrie, who is one big pain, is brilliant at practically everything. She’s two years older than me. Her last school report said, “Carrie works hard and plays hard. A first-class student!”

I just bet nobody would ever say that about me. Only the other day Miss Pringle had told me to stop daydreaming and pay attention. But now she wanted me to do something special!

Miss Pringle was busy telling us how the Year 5s were going to paint the scenery and the Year 4s were going to design the programmes. Last year we had been Year 5s and had painted scenery. Clint Parker had painted two of the girls bright green. This year we were the big shots. We were the stars! And Miss Pringle wanted me for something special …

The bell rang for break. All the rest of the class went rushing out into the playground, but Miss Pringle beckoned me over to her table.

“Now then, Danny,” she said. “We must talk. There are two very important parts that I didn’t mention… one boy, and one girl. These are the ones who have all the dreams. We’ve already cast Coral as the girl—”

She paused, just for a second. I waited, breathlessly. Was she really going to say what I thought she was going to say?