Celestine Drama Queen CBeebies Bedtime Stories

CBeebies Bedtime Story.

I wonder if you're hiding round here.

Oh, hello. I'm Shelley.

I'm looking for one of the birds that's in tonight's Bedtime Story.

She's yellow and she goes "quack".

Do you know what kind of bird I'm looking for?

That's right. It's a duck.

But I'm looking for a very special little duck called Celestine.

Sometimes she's just a little shy, like in tonight's story.

It's by Penny Ives and it's called Celestine Drama Queen.

Even before Celestine had hatched from her egg,

the Duck family knew there was someone very special inside.

"Tappity-tap. Tappity-tap" went the egg,

until one day, crack!

Out danced Celestine ready to be a star.

Right from the start, Celestine was very hard to ignore.

As soon as she was old enough, Celestine would dress herself

with great care, just as a real star should.

Sometimes it took rather a long time to create just the right look.

One morning, Celestine swept into breakfast

wearing her latest creation.

"Oh, Mummy, you know stars only eat pink food," she sighed,

as she looked at her cereal.

"Do you think you should be wearing a tiara to school, Celestine?"

Mother asked. "Of course. A star must set an example,"

said Celestine, skipping out of the door.

At school, Miss McDonald called the register.

"Archie?" "Yes, Miss McDonald."

"Beatie?" "Yes, Miss McDonald."

"Celestine?"

"Celestine's not here," answered Celestine.

"Today, you may call me Princess Druscilla Drake.

"It's a much better name for a star, don't you think?"

"Well, Princess Druscilla Drake," said her teacher.

"This morning, we all have the chance to be someone else.

"We're going to begin rehearsals for our school play."

"I would be delighted to accept the lead role," beamed Celestine, twirling round the room.

"Thank you, Celestine," said Miss McDonald.

"There's an important part for everyone."

On the way home that afternoon, Celestine sighed,

"Stars don't walk, they should ride, especially when they've got the best part in a new play."

"And what is your part?" asked her brother.

"That's a secret," smiled Celestine, tap-dancing along the pavement.

After tea, Celestine rushed straight to her room.

"I have to rehearse for the play now, Mummy," she shouted, slamming her bedroom door shut.

"Shall I hear your lines, Celestine?" called her mother through the door a little later.

"No, thank you," Celestine called back cheerfully.

"They're very nearly perfect."

"Shall I help you practise?" asked her brother the following day.

"No, thank you," said Celestine. "I know every word."

The day of the play came at last.

Celestine breezed jauntily into her classroom

blowing kisses into the air.

"How kind," she thought, noticing some flowers nearby.

"Someone has sent me a bouquet.

"But where is my red carpet?" she wondered, walking down to the hall.

"And the rest of the orchestra's late," she frowned,

seeing only Mrs Gobble at her keyboard.

The moment had arrived.

All the little chicks and ducks huddled backstage.

The lights dimmed, the audience grew quiet,

and the show began.

Celestine watched, trembling behind the side curtains,

whispering along with every word.

"Time for you to go on now, dear," smiled Miss McDonald.

But suddenly Celestine's feet wouldn't work.

She was terrified.

"I feel sick," she coughed weakly.

"I'm going to faint," she gasped.

"I won't, I shan't, I can't," she squeaked.

Miss McDonald gently pushed her forward.

Celestine inched to the centre of the stage,

her heart beating madly.

Pitter-pat, pitter-pat.

She blinked at the bright lights.

She opened her beak. But nothing came out.

Celestine stood quite still.

She couldn't move a feather.

"The end," whispered Miss McDonald from behind the curtain.

"Celestine, say your line, say 'The end.'"

Then Mrs Gobble flew to her rescue striking up one last, fast jazzy tune on the piano.

Quite of their own accord, Celestine's feet began to tap.

Her knees bent and soon she was whirling and turning,

skipping and spinning, until with one final leap,

she fell to the floor, a dizzy yellow triumph.

Fantastic! Encore!

Hurrah! Superb!

Brilliant!

The audience loved it.

"Well done," they cheered, clapping and clapping.

They all agreed it was a splendid end to a wonderful show.

But walking home, Celestine was unusually quiet and thoughtful.

Flip-flop. Flip-flop, flapped her little feet.

"I'm still a star, aren't I, Mummy? Even though I forgot my lines,"

she asked at bedtime, a big tear dripping down her beak.

"Of course you are, my darling," said Mrs Duck,

buttoning up Celestine's pyjamas.

"Just think of that marvellous dance you did. And besides,

"you'll always be a star to me."

And the gave Celestine a kiss. "Goodnight, my little star, goodnight."

And that story was called Celestine Drama Queen.

Maybe Celestine's forgotten that I wanted her to tell you it was the end.

So, I'll just have to say goodnight myself and I'll see you soon for another story.

Now, where are you, Celestine?

Where's she got to?

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd

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