Читать книгу Ruby Parker: Film Star - Rowan Coleman - Страница 8

“Oh, shut up, Menakshi,” Anne-Marie said as we walked back in from netball practice the next day, dogged by Menakshi Shah and Jade Caruso, who had been compulsively teasing me since news got round about my terrible audition. “What do you know anyway?” Anne-Marie snapped at them. “Neither of you two were even good enough to get into the first audition.”

“Well, we should have been,” Menakshi said sharply. “At least I wouldn’t have chucked up everywhere—in front of Art Dubrovnik! Not quite as professional as you think, are you, Ruby? What’s it like being one of the crowd again now you’ve had your fifteen minutes of fame? Ready for a lifetime of lame?” She and Jade cackled like a pair of witches.

“Well, at least her fifteen minutes was in a top-rated soap and not in a nit commercial, Jade,” Nydia said, joining us from the bench where she had been first sub again. “And it was much longer than fifteen minutes that Ruby was famous for.”

Jade laughed. “Peaked too soon, that’s your trouble,” she teased me. “For the rest of us things can only get better; for you it’s downhill all the way. Career over at thirteen—what a shame.”

“Jade.” Anne-Marie stepped in front of the other girl so that her pretty little nose was about two millimetres from Jade’s, and she snarled at her like a tiger. “I told you to shut up, all right?” For a moment Anne-Marie showed all her old qualities that Nydia and I had known and feared last school year, back when she had been our mortal enemy. I never thought we would end up being friends, but it was just before I decided to leave Kensington Heights, and I had just found out I had this kiss scene with Justin de Souza, who I used to really, really fancy. I had never kissed anybody before in my life, so I sort of panicked, and Nydia said the only thing to do was to get training from someone who definitely had kissing experience. And the only person we knew who definitely had kissing experience was Anne-Marie. We had to bribe her to help us, and even then it was extremely scary, very emotional and rather dramatic. And somehow at the end of all that the three of us ended up as best friends. Which meant it was easy to forget that Anne-Marie could still be totally ruthless, completely hard and the fastest insult-hurler in the school when she wanted to be. I was relieved that she was our friend now instead of our mortal enemy. They seemed like much more appealing characteristics to have in a friend, especially when I had Menakshi and Jade crowing in my face.

“One more word and…” Anne-Marie said in a low, soft voice. She didn’t have to add anything else to the sentence. Just her tone made Jade and Menakshi fall back into their pack to carry out further bitching at a safe distance, while the three of us stalked across the fields towards the academy.

“Thanks,” I said to Anne-Marie.

“No worries,” Anne-Marie said, all sunshine and smiles again. “Look, everybody will stop talking about it soon, won’t they, Nyds?”

“Yes,” Nydia said, dropping her arm round my shoulders and giving me a squeeze. “Soon no one will be interested in you at all. I mean they will,” she added hastily. “But in a good way.” I lifted my chin and made myself smile at my two friends.

“It’s OK anyway,” I lied. “I’m fine about it now, really I am. I don’t care any more at all. Not a bit. And I’m the one that messed up. There’s a really good chance that you two might get called back for a second audition. So I’m rooting for you two now. As long as one of us three gets it then it will be brilliant!”

I didn’t feel as upbeat as I sounded but I didn’t want to spoil it for Anne-Marie and Nydia, making them walk on egg shells around me, pretending that they didn’t mind either way if they got a part in a Hollywood movie.

“Really?” Anne-Marie asked me, jumping on my words. “Oh, good, because I’ve been dying to show you two this.” She dug into the pocket of her gym skirt and brought out a folded-up clipping. “It’s from Hiya! Bye-a!” she said, referring to her favourite celebrity magazine. “It’s about the film, Ruby. I didn’t want to make you feel bad by looking at it in front of you and it felt wrong to look at it behind your back, but if you really are OK…You sure you don’t mind us looking at it?”

I made myself laugh happily. If only I had been this good at acting during the audition.

“Of course not!” I said cheerily.

She handed me the clipping and I unfolded it. The title read: “Imogene shouts ‘Action!’ for her next big role.”

“You read it out,” I said, handing the piece of paper to Nydia. She took it eagerly and scanned the text.

“Casting is almost complete for the new Imogene Grant blockbuster The Lost Treasure of King Arthur.” Anne-Marie and Nydia looked at each other with bright eyes. “Veteran action hero Harry McLean is confirmed as the male lead, and also starring will be…Oh my gosh!” Nydia said, sounding suddenly breathless.

“I know,” Anne-Marie squealed. “Read it out! Read it out!”

I looked from one girl to the other. They both looked like they might explode.

“And also starring will be Hollywood’s hottest teen heart-throb Sean Rivers!”

“Arrrrrrgh!” the two girls screamed in unison and danced around me in a little circle.

“Sean Rivers, Ruby! Only Sean Rivers!” Nydia exclaimed. “Oh my gosh!”

I smiled at both of them. It was starting to hurt.

“Wow,” I said, the edge in my voice floating over the tops of the heads of my two friends. “Sean Rivers. The Sean Rivers. We totally love him.”

“Just think…” Anne-Marie said, hooking her arm though mine as we approached the changing rooms. “One of us could be working with Sean Rivers, the very same Sean Rivers we all went to see in A Cheerleader’s Destiny.”

“And Last Summer’s Love,” Nydia added wistfully.

“And The Underdogs,” Anne-Marie said. “Oh, he was so lovely in The Underdogs—that bit when he thought he might not be able to play in the final because of his leg and he cried…?”

“Oh my gosh, I love him,” Nydia added sincerely.

“I love him,” Anne-Marie said.

“I love him more,” Nydia said with a giggle.

“Who loves who more?” Danny said, jogging up to us in his football kit. He had a big smear of mud across his nose, and I have never been so pleased to see my normal lovely real-life boyfriend before in my life. My smile for him was a real one as he dropped his arm around my shoulders and raised a dark eyebrow at the girls.

“Don’t tell me you’re going out with Michael Henderson again?” he asked Anne-Marie, who made a sour face at the mention of her ex-boyfriend’s name.

“Read this.” Nydia handed Danny the now grubby clipping and he read it quickly.

“And?” he asked, looking mystified.

“Sean Rivers!” Nydia exclaimed. “We all love him.” She gestured at the three of us.

“I don’t,” I said, looking at Danny fondly.

“Oh yeah, so why has she got that poster of him over her bed then, hey, Danny?” Anne-Marie said, teasing me gently.

Danny shrugged.

“Has she?” he said. “I hadn’t noticed.” He neglected to mention that in fact he’d never been in my bedroom because my mum wouldn’t let him go in there with me unless we were accompanied by at least three adult chaperones.

Still, Danny was determined to be unimpressed by Sean Rivers, and I knew it was partly because he was worrying about how I was feeling after blowing my chances of ever meeting him, let alone working with him. Knowing that made me feel a lot better. Even almost happy.

“These two are going all gooey at the thought of actually possibly meeting him,” I said with a laugh, to show him that I didn’t mind talking about the film.

“Over Sean Rivers?” Danny mocked them. “He’s just a bloke, you know. Like me.”

Nydia and Anne-Marie screeched with overexcited laughter, and Danny’s face coloured a little.

“A bloke who’s got millions of fans all round the world!” Anne-Marie said.

“Yeah,” Danny said a little defensively. “Like me.”

“Like you!” Anne-Marie hooted, and even I couldn’t hide my smile.

“Yeah, like me,” Danny said. “I am on Britain’s favourite soap, you know. Last month I got as many fan letters as Justin.”

That shut us all up. None of us had known that before.

“You got as many letters as Justin de Souza?” I stared hard at Danny. Yes, he was still the same normal lovely real-life boyfriend I had five minutes ago. But Justin? Everybody knew that Justin got hundreds of fan letters nearly every month.

“Hang on,” I said. “You mean problem letters like I used to get, don’t you?”

Danny seemed to consider his answer for a moment, but then he looked at Nydia and Anne-Marie’s bright laughing faces and said, with a hint of pride, “No, I mean I get actual ‘I love you, Danny’ fan letters. Not that they mean anything at all,” he added quickly.

“Of course,” I said, checking back on my mum’s criteria for what constituted the end of the world. If stupendously fluffing the most important audition I would probably ever have didn’t count, would finding out that my normal lovely real-life boyfriend was now the object of affection for thousands—maybe millions—of girls, sixty per cent of whom at least would be thinner and prettier than me, qualify?

“We’ll be late for English,” I said, shrugging Danny’s arm off my shoulders and heading for the refuge of the girls’ changing room.

I didn’t want to react that way. I wanted to laugh it off and say something witty and funny about how of course he had loads of fans, he was my boyfriend, wasn’t he? But I couldn’t. I suddenly felt cross and jealous all over, and I just wanted to go somewhere Danny wasn’t until I could feel normal again.

“Ruby!” Danny called out after me as I marched off.

“Don’t worry,” I heard Nydia say as I went through the door. “She’s just having a bad day, that’s all.”

By the time we had filed into the classroom, I had given myself a good talking to, washed the frown off my face and brushed the irritation out of my hair. It wasn’t my friends’ fault that they did well at the audition and I didn’t. It wasn’t Danny’s fault that he was really good in Kensington Heights and very photogenic, causing swathes of young girls to dream about him. I shouldn’t be jealous, I should feel lucky. Lucky I have such talented friends and such a great boyfriend. If a year ago, when I was so unpopular I only had one friend and I was officially the least likely girl in the academy and quite possibly the world to ever have a boyfriend, I could have seen myself now—in with the in-crowd (mostly) and with Danny on my arm—I would have thought I had reached the pinnacle of happiness. But I knew it wasn’t really those three that I was angry with—it was myself; I was furious with myself.

Try as I might I couldn’t help going back over and over my twenty minutes in front of Mr Dubrovnik, replaying and replaying them until I finally got it right, until I was brilliant and triumphant and he jumped up from his seat and offered me the part on the spot. And for a few short moments I would feel enormous relief, until I remembered it was only a daydream. A lot of things have happened over the past year, things that I would rather hadn’t happened. Mainly Mum and Dad deciding to separate. But even then, even when it came down to my parents splitting up, I sort of knew deep down, through all the anger and the hurt, that it had to happen; that that was the way it had to be. Mum said so often enough since it had happened. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt at all any more; it does. But I feel like I can live with it.

But what happened at the audition was not scripted. It wasn’t supposed to be like that at all, and the only person I could blame for it going wrong was me. And there was nothing I could do to change it.

That moment had been for real and not just a rehearsal. It was a chance that had gone for ever, and knowing that stung, like a hard cold slap. Mum was right; I hoped there would be other auditions, other chances, but that one would never come round again.

Danny was already sitting at his desk as I walked in. I offered him a small apologetic shrug.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s all right,” he said, pulling out a chair so I could sit next to him. “You’re having a bad day. I know you feel bad about that audition, but you’re brilliant, Ruby. If you don’t get it, it’s because something bigger and better is waiting for you.” I smiled at him as I sat down, and he picked up my hand. “And look, those fan letters are really nothing. Look, here’s one I got this morning. I haven’t even opened it yet. You open it.” I knew I should have said, “Oh, don’t be so silly,” but I nodded and took the letter and opened it. The handwriting was large and round and some of the words weren’t exactly spelt right.

Dear Danny from the TV,

I think you are really brilyant and good in kensinton heights. You are my favourite and mummy lets me stay up until nine o clock when its on to see you because you are so good. She said I could write in and join a fan club if I wanted because you are really good. Please can I have a signed photo. I have a rabbit called Danny too.

Thank you very much

Love from

Kirsty Green aged six and a half and a bit

“Oh bless!” I said, handing the letter to Danny. “That’s so cute that little girls like you!”

“Yeah, well,” Danny said, “I told you. I mean not all of them are from six-year-olds, obviously, and even if some of them do go on about fancying me, it doesn’t make a difference to us. You do know that, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Of course I do,” I said.

“Because it would be stupid to get jealous over a load of letters,” Danny said.

“I know,” I said. “And I’m not jealous any more.”

“Before we begin…” Miss Greenstreet stood at the front of the class in her long gypsy skirt, bouncing on the balls of her feet. That meant only one thing—Shakespeare. She only ever bounced when we read Shakespeare. She said once that she loved teaching English at the academy because at least when students read aloud in class they sounded like they meant it. Once Menakshi and Michael read the death scene in Romeo and Juliet and Miss Greenstreet actually cried. I don’t know why—it wasn’t that good.

“Class!” Miss Greenstreet raised her voice a little, and the chattering settled and quietened. “Two of you will be excused from class today because Ms Lighthouse wants to see you in her office immediately.”

“It wasn’t me!” Michael Henderson shouted from the back of the class. A few of the boys sniggered and laughed.

“Actually, Michael, it’s not because of something someone’s done wrong. It’s because of something two other people have done right.” Miss Greenstreet lowered her voice a little and smiled. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but I think it’s about the auditions for Mr Dubrovnik.” Anne-Marie and Nydia looked at each other and gripped hands tightly. “So,” Miss Greenstreet said, smiling broadly, “can Anne-Marie and Ruby go to Ms Lighthouse’s office right away, please?”

Anne-Marie, who had jumped up at the sound of her name, sat down heavily again.

“It’s the brush-off,” Menakshi called from behind me. “She’s telling the losers first that they haven’t got through. Hey, Nydia, you might be getting a call back!”

Nydia said nothing, but looked from me to Anne-Marie. Anne-Marie stood up again, the sparkle and smile gone from her face. She knew that to be called with me meant rejection.

“Come on,” she said. “We might as well go and get it over with.”

Miss Greenstreet smiled at us as we headed for the door.

“You never know, girls, it might be good news,” she said. But neither one of us replied.

“I really thought I was good,” Anne-Marie said as we trudged towards Ms Lighthouse’s office.

“You were good,” I said. “I was the terrible one.”

“Exactly,” Anne-Marie said.

Ms Lighthouse’s office door was open and her assistant Mrs Moore nodded for us to go in. It was hard to tell what kind of news we were going to get from Mrs Moore’s expression, as never once had anyone ever seen her smile, frown or have any kind of expression at all. She was permanently in neutral, with a face like a mask that might hide thousands of raging thoughts and emotions.

“Sit,” Sylvia Lighthouse commanded us as we walked into her office, and we obeyed promptly. She leaned forward across her desk on her elbows and examined each one of us carefully before sitting back in her chair.

“Well, well,” she said, more to herself than to us. “Cometh the hour, cometh the girls.”

“Huh?” Anne-Marie and I said together.