When the sun sets more than once a day and the world's diamonds are stolen, a small brave girl, struggling to belong, has secrets to discover.
Marigold leaves her lonely life to join extraordinary thieves, Bert and Bob. Who is their Mistress? What i...
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Shuffle. Toe. Step.
The shiny red shoes worn by the girl tap-danced across the hopscotch grid. Marigold Flaunt concentrated on each move.
Shuffle. Toe. Step. Ow! She had tripped and fallen on the hard floor of the film studio. Marigold sighed, brushed her long copper coloured hair out of her hazel eyes and peered past the harsh lights. She tried to see the director's face through the bright haze.
'I don't think I can do this one', she said.
Jude, the director, stroked his black beard and approached her with a frown. He took hold of her hand and pulled her to her feet. A little too roughly than was necessary, Marigold thought.
'Sweetness,' he began. 'You cracked more complex routines than this when you were five. How old are you now?
'Ten'.
'Precisely. Let's go again. With the prop and your dialogue.'
'But I don't want to do it. I can't do it.'
Jude glared at her. 'Nobody likes a diva, Marigold.' He turned away.
'From the top!' he shouted.
Marigold pulled a face behind his back. A gigantic golden shoe was pushed onto the set by the crew. She looked down at her own shoes.
Come on you two. Let's get through it. Then we can go home.
*
Shuffle. Toe. Step. Heel. Jump. Marigold forced her sore feet to leap from one side of the huge golden shoe to the other. She looked into the camera, made her aching mouth grin - for what felt like the hundredth time that day - and said:
'Hopscotch from Flaunt – fun for your feet!'
'Hold it!' bellowed Jude. 'And... Cut!'
Exhausted, Marigold flopped to the floor with a sigh of relief. Jude looked at her as she struggled to catch her breath.
'About time!' he snapped before moving to the camera to examine the day's footage. Marigold tore off the tap shoes and threw them across the floor. 'Clack!' They hit the wall. The sound was very satisfying. Her father called her the 'face and feet of Flaunt's'. But no matter what her parents might say, she would never dance for them or anyone else again.
*
Outside the studio, Marigold waited - tiny amongst the huge buildings of the gloomy city. She tried to find a glimpse of the sun. But there was nothing beyond the dark clouds. Was it true what they were saying? Was the sun really setting earlier than expected? She glanced at her gold watch. Four o'clock on the 30th August. She looked up again at the midnight sky. That couldn't be right. Perhaps the watch had broken?
