Secrets at Silver Spires by Ann Bryant Page A

don’t think the figures look as good as I’d imagined they’d look, and I don’t like entering something that’s less than perfect.”
    â€œWould you let us see them?” asked Naomi.
    I hesitated and Grace jumped in.
    â€œI think it would be good if the others saw them,” she said quietly. Then she turned her palms up, as a look of complete bewilderment came over her face. “You’ll all think she’s crazy not to enter when you see the brilliant work she’s done.”
    A picture of my friends staring at the figures on the rubbish dump came into my head, and I tensed up at the thought of them all racking their brains to try and think of something nice to say to make sure I wouldn’t be upset.
    â€œNo, they’re not worth seeing, honestly. And anyway, I’ve chucked them away, so that’s the end of that.”
    Then later I had the terrible task of going to tell Mr. Cary what I’d decided.
    â€œAh, Jess!” he said, with a smile as I approached him. “Come to give in your card?”
    â€œEr…no…actually…”
    His smile dissolved into a look of big concern. “What’s up, Jess?”
    I took a deep breath and sucked my lips in tight, quickly practising the words I’d prepared, then I spoke them in a rush. “I’ve decided not to enter because I don’t like what I’ve done. It’s not…right.”
    Mr. Cary shook his head slowly. “No, no, no,” he said quietly. “That’s just an artist’s thing, Jess. You work and work on something and after a while you can’t see it objectively any more and it doesn’t feel fresh and original and you start to have doubts. Really…”
    â€œNo, it’s not that. I just know it’s rubbish…”
    â€œWell why don’t you let me be the judge of that. I won’t push you into entering if you really don’t want to, but I’m sure I’ll be able to see something in your work that you can’t see yourself because you’re just too close to it.”
    â€œIt won’t make any difference. I just don’t want to enter it.”
    He shook his head again and I could tell he was really sad. “Have you filled in the card?”
    â€œI didn’t see the point.”
    â€œOkay, Jess, just do that one thing for me. Just fill in the card. Write whatever you would have written.”
    I shrugged. I didn’t really get why Mr. Cary wanted me to do that. He was still looking at me so I shrugged again and said, “All right.”
    He looked carefully at me then. “I need you to promise to do the card for me, Jess.”
    I didn’t understand why he was so insistent. What was he going to do with it?
    â€œI promise…as long as you chuck it away when you’ve looked at it.”
    He sighed and gave me a sad smile. “You drive a hard bargain, Jess.” Then he glanced behind me because Katy was rushing in, flapping her card.
    â€œI’ve done it.”
    â€œExcellent, Katy. Go and display it next to your jewellery.”
    But Katy turned to me instead, with pleading eyes and praying hands. “Please, please change your mind, Jess.”
    â€œWhat are we going to do with her?” Mr. Cary asked Katy, folding his arms and tipping his head on one side.
    â€œI don’t know. We all think she’s totally mad,” said Katy, grabbing my shoulders and looking urgently into my eyes. “Just think about how exciting tomorrow afternoon is going to be, Jess, when Brian Hodgson judges the exhibition, and we get the afternoon off to look round all the art…”
    That weight of sadness came over me again. I’d so wanted Brian Hodgson to look at my work. But then I imagined him and everyone else looking at my sightless figures and felt more sure than ever that I was doing the right thing.
    â€œThere’s the big barbecue, remember?” went on Katy,