by Holly Smale
‘I’ll love it,’ I reassure him chirpily. ‘So you’ll send the tickets over in half an hour, yeah? I’m super excited, I can’t wait.’
‘Hope—’
‘You’re the best. Thanks, Dad.’
‘Hope.’
‘Good question, thanks for asking. Actually, I reckon a night flight is best; it’ll give me the chance to rest on the journey.’
There’s a silence, then Dad breathes out.
‘Fine. You win. I’ll email the details over when it’s booked.’
‘Private jet or First Class?’
Dad laughs again. ‘Don’t push your luck, kiddo. You’re hanging right on the edge as it is.’
Once he’s gone, I stretch smugly.
That’s the really great thing about being a superb actress: your skills can be utilised at a moment’s notice.
If Dad won’t come back for Mum, I’ll just have to go to Los Angeles and get him for her. We’ll prove the papers wrong, stop the rumours, collect Mum from rehab and make everything go back to normal.
Meanwhile, Jamie will see how jet-settery I can be. Long-distance, schmong-distance.
Once he realises how little the miles between us really matter and how much we mean to each other, he’ll have no choice but to make me his official girlfriend. Romance will triumph because it always does. I just have to follow my stars and make that very first leap.
After all, two birds always find it much easier to pick up a stone together than the one that’s stuck alone in the bushes, etc. etc.
This way we all get our happy ending.
Beaming, I type:
I wish I was there with you too. :) xxx
Then I press SEND and grab a pen.
Effie, there’s a triple conjunction of the sun, Venus and Pluto so I’ve gone to LA to get Dad and see Jamie. Take care of Mum and don’t let Mercy in my room until I’m back – I WILL KNOW.
Love you, Po xxx
I slip it under her bedroom door.
I return to my bedroom and settle back in my director’s chair with a triumphant grin. I think we can agree that I followed my destiny, leapt over my obstacles, controlled my narrative, rose to the challenge and – with the help of my father’s credit card – I became the heroine we all need.
Hollywood, here I come.
HOPE sashays into the arrivals area of LAX airport. She looks surprisingly radiant and uncrumpled after an eleven and a half hour flight.
JAMIE is standing by the barrier, holding flowers. His expression is nervous but excited.
HOPE sees JAMIE and her face lights up. She drops her one small yet efficient suitcase and runs to him, jumping into his open arms.
JAMIE swings HOPE around, laughing.
HOPE
What are you doing here?! I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow!
JAMIE
As if I’d miss a single second of seeing you.
HOPE
(laughing and putting her hands over his eyes)
Like this?
JAMIE
Exactly like that.
They KISS.
Wait, I can do better.
Take Two:
HOPE is pulling her one very compact suitcase through LAX arrivals, shockingly beautiful after such a long journey. Suddenly, she hears SHOUTS.
SECURITY 1
Where are you – what are you— STOP THAT BOY!
SECURITY 2
This is a breach of protocol! Sir, you must not go beyond that line! It is against the official rules we have for our American airports!
(sound of commotion)
JAMIE
Hope! HOPE! Where are you, HOPE?
HOPE
(shocked)
Jamie? Is that you?
JAMIE hurdles a security barrier, runs through an electric monitor, skids round a security person and races towards HOPE with his arms out. He PICKS HER UP and SWINGS HER IN THE AIR.
JAMIE
I couldn’t wait another second to see my beautiful girlfriend’s face.
HOPE
(amazed)
Your … girlfriend?
JAMIE
(smiling)
As if I could ever truly let you go.
They KISS.
Security people, racing towards them both with tasers, realise what’s happening and stop in their tracks.
SECURITY 1
Awwww, what kind of monsters would we be to break this iconic moment up?
SECURITY 2
(wistfully)
I remember being young and in love like that once …
OK, that is just adorable.
Maybe I can make the second security guard a prominent secondary character: give him a backstory, a painful divorce; he’s lost his belief in love, but seeing us together makes him—
There’s a loud crash.
A porter with a little black cap is trying to push a trolley with my five large suitcases on it, along with a laptop bag, make-up bag, separate case for shoes and a couple of sunglasses boxes balanced on top. I only had one evening to prepare my entire Wardrobe and Props Departments so I shoved in everything I could find, then upgraded myself to First Class so they’d let me take it all.
Entire films have been known to rest on the styling.
‘Oops,’ I say, helping him pick a few bags off the floor. ‘It’s difficult to know what you need for an epic romance, right?’
A large neon quilted jacket of Faith’s topples off.
‘Skiing gear,’ I add cheerfully as I pick that up too. ‘And boots. You know, just in case there’s a chalet scene.’
Then I skip along next to the trolley.
Jamie doesn’t know I’m coming yet. I played out all the options – tweaking and editing – before realising that the most epic romantic gestures are always unexpected.
So I’ve been sending cunning text messages like this:
It’s very rainy in London! Just off to my first lesson in London. :( xx
And
I hate being stuck in England without going anywhere at all. xx
Unfortunately, this does also render my airport fantasies impossible unless Jamie happens to be here on unrelated business:
JAMIE
(amazed)
Oh my goodness, Hope? I was just randomly standing in airport arrivals, thinking about how much I miss my girlfriend—
HOPE
Your … girlfriend?
JAMIE
(smiling)
As if I could ever truly let you go.
I’ve put on red lipstick, just in case.
‘Hope?’ There’s a short lady standing by the barriers, smiling shyly at me. ‘Hope, is that you? It’s Roz.’
Roz is Dad’s secretary; she sent through my flight details by email late last night. I also got an extremely long email from Dad, which had handy emergency credit-card details attached. Obviously, I used them immediately.
‘Hello,’ I say, holding my hand out. ‘I’m Hope Valentine. Thanks for sorting everything out for me at such short notice, Roz. It did feel like opening a panda’s box of trouble, didn’t it?’
Roz laughs and takes my hand. ‘Indeed, but we got there in the end. I’d forgotten about the whole British hand-shaking thing. How am I doing?’
‘Perfect!’ I think she just broke one of my fingers. ‘You’re a natural!’
She’s got rosy, round cheeks and glasses. I like her already.
‘Then I’ll put it on my résumé asap,’ Roz smiles, turning to the porter and handing him twenty dollars. ‘Please let me take this. Thank you for your help.’ She pushes her glasses up her nose with a finger and – with noticeable effort – starts pushing the overloaded trolley towards the airport doors. ‘Hope, I’ve heard so much about you. Your father just talks about you all non-stop.’
I beam at her. ‘He does? Even on set?’
‘Of course! I’m so thrilled you’re here. Your father works far too hard, and I’m hoping it’ll force him to take a break.’
&
nbsp; ‘Exactly!’ I thought it through on the journey, and I reckon I should be able to get him to fly home and sort things out by the end of the week, ten days max. ‘And what do you do exactly, Roz?’
We push through the exit and warm, thick air smacks me straight in the face. With a flush of happiness, I tilt my smile towards the Californian sunshine.
‘Well.’ Roz wheels the trolley across the road. ‘You know how it is, Hope. Mainly they talk and I listen and write it all down.’
‘But do you ever get to go to Dad’s studio? Have you seen films being made? Any huge stars? Who were they? What did they say? Did they mention that they might need an understudy at some point in, say, four or five years?’
I should have completed my RADA training by then.
‘I don’t go into the studios themselves, no,’ Roz laughs. ‘And I can’t tell you what they say, I’m afraid – that’s top secret.’
I nod. This is one high-class movie secretary. I’d be outside the gates every morning, handing out cups of coffee nobody asked for and borrowing scripts out of handbags to look for my perfect role.
‘Do you have any plans for while you’re here?’ Roz flicks a glance across at me. ‘Your father says you’ve never been to Los Angeles before, so is there anything you’d particularly like to do? Anything on your wish list?’
I smile secretively, turning my phone on. Within seconds, there’s a beep and a video of Jamie appears, waving and wearing the world’s cutest athletic track kit.
A glow radiates from my stomach. He is so adorable.
‘Mmm?’ I say, beaming and putting my phone back in my pocket. ‘Oh, I’ve got a few bits and bobs in mind, yeah.’
‘Any chance you can squeeze in a quick hug with your old papa first?’ a deep voice says from behind me. ‘Or is your social calendar fully booked already?’
A snap of happiness crackles through me.
‘Dad!’ I whip round and jump as high as I can, but still only just manage to get my arms over his shoulders. I forgot how big he is. ‘You’re here you’re here you’re here you’re here—’
My father laughs, a big booming laugh.
‘Baby girl, where else was I going to be?’
This is where I belong.
Richmond is where I grew up, but Los Angeles is in my heart, running through my veins, passed down the generations, tied to my future, woven into my fate, lining the path to my—
‘LOOK! LOOK! SOMEONE FAMOUS!’
A bright red sports car is driving past us with the top pulled down. The driver has mirrored sunglasses, silver hair blowing in the breeze, a deep orange tan and a—
‘Nope,’ Dad chuckles, glancing over. ‘Sorry, sweetheart. That’s an accountant, or a lawyer, maybe a restaurant owner. Most people in the business don’t drive cars that showy.’
I nod in disappointment at our big, black, boring sedan: a little bit of show here or there wouldn’t go amiss. Although I do love the way Dad says The Business as if movies are literally the only profession in the world. Grinning, I prop my feet on the dashboard.
The roads are total chaos: six lanes of important, glamorous people who clearly have even more important, glamorous places to be. There’s beeping and accelerating and sharp braking and a general vibe of impatience. Every five minutes, Dad sighs, ‘Oh, what is that idiot doing?’ and, ‘You’re not getting there faster by being a jackass!’ as a silver car dips round us, gleaming in the sunshine.
We’ve also spent an hour lodged in this fast-moving traffic.
I’ve really had time to inspect my new surroundings: the sprawling flatness, the squat buildings crouched beneath enormous roads, the violet sky, the glittering sea in the distance and the dusty hills on either side. Green palm trees line the roads in rows – spiky and tropical and cinematic – and my excitement is starting to steadily build.
My future lies in Los Angeles. I can feel it.
This is literally where the Valentines started. My great-grandmother Pauline changed our name from Plumb when she arrived here from York via a boat to New York in the 1910s, and thus our dynasty began.
As soon as I’ve established my dramatic talent in England, I’ll move here to add class to their biggest blockbusters with my British charm.
Just three months until that journey starts.
‘Sweetheart,’ Dad says as we eventually leave the traffic and drive up a quiet winding hill. It’s completely dark now, so all I can see is the headlights bouncing off bushes. ‘I’m afraid I have a lot of work to do. I’ll try and see you whenever I can, but Roz has very kindly offered to help out with anything else you need in the interim.’
I twist towards his secretary. She’s been sitting so quietly in the back seat that I’d totally forgotten she was there.
‘Thanks, Roz.’ I beam at her.
‘You’re welcome,’ she smiles, nudging her glasses up her nose again. ‘Anything you want, Hope, I’m here. It’s important you have a lovely holiday. I remember my first time away from home – it was just the biggest adventure.’
Dad grins. ‘Not too big this time, though, right?’
‘Oh no,’ Roz agrees. ‘A sensible, appropriate amount of adventure for a sixteen-year-old I’m partially in charge of.’
Thrilled, I sit up straight and push my chest out.
‘Fifteen,’ Dad corrects firmly. ‘Hope’s not sixteen for another three and a half months.’
Dammit. I thought he’d forgotten.
Roz winks at me – ‘Sure thing, Mike’ – and I giggle and wink back. I knew I would bond with movie-industry insiders immediately.
Slowly, the car pulls to a stop and Dad presses a button. An enormous black metal gate between four-metre-high hedges whirs and starts to slowly swing open. My father pulls through the gates and parks up next to a yellow Lamborghini, a shiny red Corvette and a blue Porsche.
I flash him a pointed glance.
‘They’re not mine,’ he laughs, climbing out and opening the boot so he can start unloading my suitcases. ‘Jeez, Po, did you bring all of Richmond and half of the Alps with you?’ He pulls out the ski boots and flashes my pointed glance straight back at me. ‘At least I don’t need to worry about how you’ll handle the SoCal snow.’
I shrug – one day I’ll explain props to my father – then stare guiltily at the tiniest house I have ever seen. It’s a grey cement rectangle, one storey, no windows, surrounded by bushes, like a garage.
‘Oh, Dad.’ I flush, grabbing his elbow. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t realise … I didn’t think it through … I can totally sleep on the sofa. I’ll just get a few cushions and—’
Dad booms with laughter as there’s a blue flash and a soft beep. ‘We’ll manage, Po. You’re quite small so I’m sure we can fit you in. Tuck you into a laundry bag maybe.’
Then the door opens and it’s like origami.
The house unfolds from nothing at all into a huge white marble hallway with a tinkling fountain, then unfolds again into an enormous living room with a shiny grand piano and a gold cocktail bar and the palest cream leather sofas.
I drop Mercy’s new handbag on the floor.
A few steps later, the house unfolds again into another room, then a gigantic kitchen lit by several cut-glass chandeliers. Breaking into an excited jog, I speed into a glass conservatory with a wood-burner, then a bedroom with a bed that has a television literally built into it. A bathroom – the bath is in the floor! – and another bedroom.
Another bedroom, a gym, a cinema room, a courtyard …
‘Not bad, huh?’ Dad is following me through the house, chuckling at the ooooh sounds I’m making. ‘I called in a long-standing favour to live here while I’m filming. Let’s just say that fifteen years ago I pretended not to notice that the owner of this place couldn’t act, and the rest of the world has been pretending ever since.’
Oh, just wait until I show Sophia and Madison and Olivia this luxury swank pad. Hang on a second! I need to ship them over from England first.
Yup,
they’re here now.
‘Mike?’ Roz chirps as my friends immediately hold their thumbs up and then start rummaging through the kitchen cupboards. ‘I’m going to head home, give you time to catch up. Hope, is there anything you’d like to do tomorrow? I could take you for a newbies tour, a nice breakfast, or—’
Ooooh, mini-spa!
‘No, thanks,’ I say over my shoulder, clicking a button. Rainforest shower! ‘Can you collect me tomorrow mid-afternoon, though? And bring some nail files. Maybe some nail varnish? Blue Trumpet by Chanel is my favourite.’
Delighted, I screw open a little pot. Black earbuds!
‘HOPE!’ Dad booms. ‘THAT IS NOT HOW YOU TALK TO ROZ – SHE IS NOT YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANT.’
‘Oh.’ I blink in surprise. ‘She’s not?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Roz laughs as Dad glowers at me. ‘I’m happy to help. You can’t survive LA with a chipped manicure – I’m not a monster! Have fun, you guys.’
She’s gone before I can even put the lid back on.
Dad shakes his head.
‘What? What did I do?’ I protest.
‘Come on.’ Still shaking his head, he starts walking towards the back of the house. ‘I want to show my mini-diva daughter something before I strongly consider grounding her just hours after she landed.’
Quickly, I grab my phone and type:
That video is so cute! Richmond which is where I am is so boring without you! xxx
Scene set.
Then I scamper after my father through the lounge and between two huge glass walls to an enormous bright turquoise infinity pool surrounded by plush sunloungers and palm trees and tropical flowers.
I hadn’t realised quite how high up we are. We’re perched at the top of a steep hill. Below us is a view that stretches miles, to mountains on one side and the sea on the other. The soft breeze is warm, the sky is a deep, smoggy ink, scattered with stars, and below it Los Angeles twinkles. Down there, people are laughing, talking, dancing, loving, dreaming, living.
