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  ‘Wish us luck, Harry,’ said Mum.

  ‘Oh, yes. I wish you lots of luck – but you won’t need it. You’ll be brilliant.’

  ‘Well, if Beauty makes a batch of bunny cookies we’ll make sure we’ll bring you some,’ said Mum.

  We were met by Jules, the researcher. She was much younger than I’d imagined, with a ponytail and a very short skirt. I thought just at first she might be one of the child performers on the show. She took Mum and me to our very own dressing room. It even had our names on the door!

  ‘Now, we’ll probably have a little rehearsal and you’ll meet Simon and Miranda and all the other kids in the show,’ she said. ‘You’re going to start the show, Beauty, making cookies. You’ll be showing Simon and Miranda what to do. Then while the cookies are baking – we have our own little oven, no expense spared on Watch-box! – all our other guests will do their turns. We’ve got a singer, a conjuror, and two different dancers, and then we’ll finish with you, Beauty, taking the cookies out of the oven. We were wondering if you’d maybe draw a little rabbit for us, seeing as you designed the Bunny Cookies logo.’

  ‘Oh yes, that would be great,’ said Mum. ‘Look, I’ve brought lots of Beauty’s drawings. She’s even done some oil paintings.’

  She unfastened her suitcase. She didn’t have spare clothes in there at all. She had all my Sam and Lily drawings and paintings.

  ‘Oh, Mum!’ I said, terribly embarrassed. ‘They don’t want to see all that silly old stuff.’

  ‘Oh yes we do!’ said Jules, seizing an armful. ‘Do you mind if I take them away to show the producer? They’ll fit in brilliantly with the special finale.’

  ‘What special finale?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, we’ve just thought of a good way of rounding off the programme,’ said Jules. She winked at Mum and Mum winked back.

  ‘What’s all the winking about?’ I asked Mum, when we were left on our own in the dressing room.

  ‘What winking?’ said Mum. ‘I just had something in my eye, that’s all.’

  I didn’t have time to quiz her further, because we were called to go into the studio for a run-through rehearsal. It was a great room full of cameras with cables snaking all over the floor. There were two big red squashy sofas in our corner, a mini-kitchen in another, and a round stage with a spotlight.

  There were four other children standing around with their mums. They all looked comfortingly anxious too, apart from a beautiful girl with long fair hair in a very short skirt and a sparkly top. She was wearing very high heels.

  ‘She is so like Skye,’ I whispered to Mum.

  ‘Maybe she’ll trip in her heels and fall over and show her knickers,’ Mum whispered back.

  The fair girl looked positively ordinary compared to Miranda. She was simply dressed in jeans and a little T-shirt and sneakers but she looked stunning, her long ultra-curly black hair flying everywhere, her honey-coloured skin shining, her dark eyes huge and luminous. She smiled at everyone, asking our names, chatting away. Simon was very friendly too, bounding about pulling funny faces and tweaking the nose of the very little boy who was the conjuror.

  I smiled shyly at Miranda and Simon but I felt paralysed with fear. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I knew how to make cookies – but what was I supposed to say when I was mixing and baking? I asked Jules in panic.

  ‘It’s OK, Miranda and Simon will ask you stuff and you just say whatever you want. We’re not going to go through it word by word just now. We find it makes things much fresher when we start recording,’ said Jules.

  I had to stand in the kitchen and pretend to make cookies, while Miranda and Simon bobbed about. I felt so shy I barely said a word. Then a tall red-haired girl called Megan did an acrobatic dance, a tiny kid called Tina sang a song in a surprisingly deep strong voice, the little boy Darren did his conjuring tricks, and then the blonde girl in the short skirt and high heels, Nancy-Jo, sang and danced. She was depressingly good at it too.

  ‘Then we’ll come back to you, Beauty, and we’ll look at the cookies and you’ll draw the bunny and then . . . well, we’ll just chat for a couple of minutes and that’s the end of the programme,’ said Jules. ‘OK, let’s take you back to your dressing room. I’ll come and fetch you for Make-up in a tick, Beauty.’

  ‘Should Beauty change into her best dress now?’ Mum asked.

  ‘Well, we think Beauty looks great for the programme just the way she is,’ said Jules.

  ‘Oh yes, wear your jeans. I’m wearing mine,’ said Miranda.

  ‘And we all love your red boots,’ said Simon.

  ‘Sooo much more sensible than some of the others,’ Jules muttered in my ear, raising an eyebrow at Nancy-Jo.

  So I didn’t change after all. I think Mum was a bit disappointed and worried people would think I looked a scruff in my jeans.

  ‘Let’s hope your dad doesn’t get wind of this and watch. He’d go bananas,’ said Mum. ‘I wonder what they’re going to do to you in Make-up? I hope they don’t plaster it on you.’

  The make-up lady was lovely. She just put a little foundation on me so I wouldn’t look all shiny, and the palest pink lipstick, and then she combed my hair and said my pageboy style really suited me.

  ‘There, you look fabulous, pet, even though I say it myself,’ she said.

  I stared at myself in the mirror. I didn’t look fabulous – but I looked kind of OK. I gave myself a soppy little grin and the girl in the mirror smiled back at me encouragingly.

  Then Jules came to collect me and we went back into the studio ready for the start of the show.

  They stood me in the kitchen with all the ingredients in front of me. I suddenly felt so sick and so scared I wondered if I was going to throw up right there and then in my mixing bowl.

  ‘Are you OK, sweetheart?’ said Simon, suddenly gentle.

  ‘I’m scared!’

  ‘I know, I know. Don’t worry, Miranda and I get scared too before the start of the show. But it’ll be fine once the cameras start rolling.’

  ‘But what about all those thousands of people who’ll be watching us?’ I whispered.

  ‘Forget about them. It’s just you and me and Miranda and the other kids having fun, OK?’

  ‘OK,’ I said, swallowing.

  ‘That’s the girl. Now listen, I want at least four of these famous cookies, OK? I’m a growing lad,’ he said, patting his big tummy.

  Then they started the countdown to the programme and Simon whizzed over to the red sofa beside Miranda. I heard the Watchbox signature tune and Simon and Miranda started singing it too.

  ‘Hi, everyone!’ said Miranda, smiling at the camera.

  ‘Welcome to Watchbox,’ said Simon. ‘We’ve got a g-r-e-a-a-a-t show for you today. You just wait and see! First of all, we’re going to do some baking. Are you any good at cooking, Miranda?’

  ‘No, I’m total rubbish, but I know a girl who’s a great cook – and that’s Beauty Cookson,’ said Miranda.

  They both walked over to me. That was my cue to start mixing the flour and the sugar and the butter. I started so determinedly that some of the flour flew up all over my T-shirt. I froze.

  ‘Whoops, it’s snowing!’ said Simon, flicking a tiny bit of flour too.

  ‘Hey hey, stop messing about, you two,’ said Miranda. ‘OK, Beauty, tell us how to make your special bunny cookies. I hear they’ve become ever so popular where you live, in Rabbit Cove. That’s a lovely name!’

  ‘It’s a lovely place. It’s the seaside and it’s so special,’ I said, suddenly not shy at all. ‘My mum’s great at making all sorts of cookies and I’m her number-one helper. Now we specialize in making these bunny cookies with this special cutter.’

  Simon held it up, making the bunny run up my arm and across my shoulders. It tickled and I couldn’t help laughing.

  ‘They’ve become really popular and we sell heaps,’ I said, still mixing.

  ‘And you’ve designed the special bunny logo on the packaging?’ said Mira