Phoebe Finds Her Voice Read Online Free Page B

Phoebe Finds Her Voice
Book: Phoebe Finds Her Voice Read Online Free
Author: Anne-Marie Conway
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how tragic my life was. I didn’t only sound like Sabine, I was Sabine. I couldn’t even hear Mum and Dad arguing any more – it was as if they didn’t exist – but then suddenly there was an almighty bang from downstairs – and the spell was broken.
    I looked at myself in the mirror and saw my reflection. I mean really saw it. I saw how flat my hair was, stuck to my ears like overcooked spaghetti, and how completely stupid I looked standing there pretending to be a singer. And how stupid I must have looked standing in the circle at drama doing that pathetic thumbs-up sign. I flopped down on my bed in despair. If I was ever going to convince Miss Howell in a million years that I was the right person to be Sabine, I needed to make some changes – and fast.
    Suddenly my door flew open and Sara burst in, sobbing.
    â€œQuick, Phoebe! Quick ! Mum shut the door in Dad’s face and I think it hit his nose. It might be broken or squashed or bleeding and Mrs. Burton was standing outside listening to everything they said and—”
    â€œWait a sec, how do you know that – about Mrs. Burton?”
    â€œBecause she came over to tell Mum to keep the noise down and that’s when Mum slammed the door.”
    â€œWell Mum was probably trying to squash Mrs. Burton’s nose, and Dad’s nose just got in the way.”
    Sara always works herself up into such a state when Mum and Dad argue – like she still expects them to be best friends or something.
    â€œAnyway, noses are harder than you think,” I added to calm her down a bit. “Especially grown-ups’ noses.”
    She wiped her snotty face on her sleeve. “Are you sure?” she said, and sat down on the end of my bed as if she was planning to stay for a while.
    â€œYes, I’m sure, Sara, really . But can you get out now?” I shoved her with my foot. “I was right in the middle of something vitally important and you didn’t knock.”
    â€œ Of course I didn’t knock! ” she cried dramatically. “It was an actual emergency in case you didn’t notice.” And she slammed out of the room leaving me to get on with my plan.
    So somehow by next Saturday I had to transform myself into a tragic heroine with the confidence to sing in front of the entire drama group – but how? I mean let’s face it; it’s not as if a fairy godmother was going to appear in my room waving a magic wand about any time soon. And then it came to me. It was so obvious. What I needed was a makeover.
    I suddenly got this picture in my head, as clear as anything, of Monty B and his traffic-light hair. I wasn’t going to dye my hair bright red, I wasn’t that stupid, but I had to do something to change my image. Something to make Miss Howell think I was the Sabine she was looking for!
    I leaned over and dragged a pile of magazines out from underneath my bed. They were stuffed full of articles about Donny Dallesio – and I remembered in one of them there was a brilliant interview he gave ages ago about how he’d transformed himself from a shy, geeky-looking teenager, into a world-famous superstar. I started leafing through as fast as I could; there was literally no time to lose.
    I found articles about his childhood and his favourite foods and his star sign. There was even one about his BIG TOE – which was apparently misshapen at birth and had to be operated on when he was ten. But I couldn’t see anything about this Great Transformation . And then just as I was about to give up, in the very last magazine, I found it:
    â€œMy Rise to Fame” – by Donny Dallesio
    It was a really long article and most of it was no use at all, but there was one section about his hair – called Gel Spell – that looked quite interesting, and one about his special “stage smile” – called the Razzle Dazzle . I read that section first. I mean anyone could learn how to
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