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      Holly Wilde swept her arms in a circle and danced forward with slow steps to the haunting, beautiful music. She stopped on her right leg, one arm above her head, the other out to the side. She paused, before gracefully bringing her arm down and moving around her bedroom, turning slowly again and again, lost in her dance.

      Holly loved the ballet of Sleeping Beauty. Most people remembered the Rose Adagio, the famous dance that the princess did before she pricked her finger, but Holly had always preferred the piece of music she was dancing to now, where Sleeping Beauty appeared to the prince in a magic vision. It had a lilting, slightly ghostly melody. Sweeping her arms upwards, she pirouetted around as the music came to an end. She stopped, trembling with the joy of dancing. Closing her eyes, she imagined that she had just danced off stage and that the audience were clapping wildly.

      Just like they did when Mum danced it in New York …

      Sinking down on to her bed, Holly glanced at the photoframe on the chest of drawers of her mum, Bella. Her eyes, the same mossy-green as Holly’s, were shining. Her dark hair was caught up in a diamond tiara.

      Holly picked the picture up, her own straight dark hair falling forward across her face. Her heart ached. Oh Mum, she thought, for about the thousandth time, why did you have to leave me here? Why couldn’t I have stayed with you?

      She remembered the day she had come to live at Aunt Maria’s and Uncle Ted’s, back in July. She heard her mum’s words as she had left: “I’ll miss you so much, darling. But you’re ten now and you can’t keep on travelling around with me, you need to stay in one place, go to one school and make friends. Aunt Maria and Uncle Ted will look after you and in the holidays you can come and join me or your dad just as you always have.”

      “But I don’t want to stay here,” Holly had protested.

      “I know,” her mum had said softly, tears in her eyes. “But you have to. We’ll see each other soon.”

      She had kissed Holly and then she had gone. She had phoned and emailed lots, but she was touring America and it was so far away that Holly hadn’t been able to visit her. She had seen her dad for a few weeks in August when he had been performing in London. He was a dancer too, but he and her mum had got divorced six years ago, so she only ever saw him separately.

      And now here she was. Midway through a new term and taking ballet classes after school. She’d started at Madame Za-Za’s just before the summer holidays, but she hadn’t really made much of an effort to make friends with any of the other girls. She had just

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