Aisling's Diary

Chapter 35

Saturday 21 January

Here we go. Competition day. Only the qualifier but still. That news from Granny Nora has rocked my socks off. Makes a flashmob in a library seem like small fry. Blimey, I’d far rather take on Killer Kennedy than a legion of Dublin plumbers from 50 years ago.

But whatever Granny Nora did or didn’t do, I must keep my eyes on the main prize. Going to the World Championships.

11:00 a.m.

I am so ready for the competition. I check in the mirror just to make sure that I have the right balance of Glitter. Hairpins. Ringlets. Lace. Velvet. And Sequins. I must have seen myself in this outfit 200 times, but today I think I look different. Why? I kept looking at myself for ages in the mirror to see what’s different but nothing is new, nothing has actually changed – everything is exactly the same. Do I look strange, or do I feel strange?

12:00 High Noon

I’m backstage. If I peek round the corner, I can see Granny Nora, Mum, Dad and Rory are in the crowd.

Here’s the math: there are three places for three of us dancers to go to Irish final and 60 of us competing for them. I may not be the best in the world at math, but that gives me a 5% chance.

Anya’s up first. Good luck, Anya – she won’t need it. They might as well give her a plane ticket right now.

12:15 p.m.

Anya danced perfectly. Like a little Irish Dance doll in one of those plastic tubes. Way to go, Anya.

12:30 p.m.

Marie Glennon (aka Contestant No.2) did not look happy with the way she danced. She left the stage in tears. Oh no. It can happen – you just miss your step and take a little tumble, but you’ve just got to keep going. Look the judges straight in the eye and keep on dancing. It can really knock your confidence. I’ve so been there.

12:45 p.m.

OMG the next one dances like I used to, the way that used to drive Kennedy nuts. All arms flailing around. The judges looked all snarly as if she was wearing a T-shirt saying ‘Irish Dance sucks’. Although it pains me to say it, I’ve gotta give it to Kennedy. The old Mr Tickle approach to Irish Dancing doesn’t seem to be popular with the judges. And the next Contestant is, well the next contestant is… well, it’s me! Dancer number 27, will you come in please.

1:00 p.m.

I did it. I think I did OK. All the moves were OK. They must have been OK because KK said ‘very well done’. That’s actually equal to an Oscar in the real world in terms of recognition. Siobhan and Ali were there and weren’t throwing rotten tomatoes in my direction, so that’s something, maybe things are on the mend there. You know who else was there? Murphy. I only saw him for a moment, he seemed fed up to see me dance. He just doesn’t understand if I had my way I wouldn’t dance like that. I don’twant to dance this way, but it’s the only way I can get home, the only way I can make everything right for everyone. That’s all.

Gotta run, they’re announcing who’s going through. Fingers crossed. Toes crossed. Arms crossed. Everything crossed. I need that place.

First place gone to Marie Donovan. Well done, Marie (she said gracefully, while secretly wishing they’d said her name).

Second place gone to Anya Kudyba. Well of course, Anya – she danced perfectly.

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