Pop Princess

by Cathy Hopkins

‘What?’ I asked.

  Mum looked at Dad. ‘London!’ she said. ‘And where do you think she’s going to stay? How do you think she’s going to get there? These kinds of trips cost money, never mind some kind of chaperone. I can’t take time off and you can’t go, Joe.’

  ‘But it’s at the weekend.’ I looked pleadingly at Dad, but he had his defeated look on. Money. Same old story. He didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  ‘You’d have to go up on the Friday. You’d need money for travel,’ said Mum wearily. ‘Money for a place to stay. Money for food.’

  Oh, not this again, I thought. How I wished I’d done a paper round, like Squidge and Cat did. Then I could have saved some of my own money. Maybe it wasn’t too late.

  ‘I’ll get a job,’ I said.

  ‘Be practical, Becca,’ said Mum. ‘London’s next Saturday. I don’t think any job would earn you enough in that time. I said no, Becca, and that’s my final word on the subject. You had a good time today. Enjoy that, then put it behind you. It’s not as though you were really serious about it before today anyway. You were only going into it because of a dare as I remember. A laugh, you told us.’

  ‘But today’s changed everything,’ I said, getting up to leave. ‘And I worked hard on that song. You just don’t understand, do you?’

  Neither of them said anything.

  ‘Thanks for the support,’ I said and stomped off.

  Upstairs I rang Cat. She sounded down as well.

  ‘My dad says I can’t go,’ she said. ‘No money and he can’t leave the shop, blah, blah, won’t let me go alone, blah, blah.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ I said. ‘I’ve just had the “and that’s my final word on the subject” talk downstairs.’

  ‘It’s not fair, is it?’

  ‘No, it really stinks. Haven’t you got any money, Cat?’

  ‘Thirty quid and that’s really for getting Christmas presents.’

  ‘We could do the lottery.’

  ‘I guess,’ said Cat. ‘I feel really rotten. Today was so great and now, it’s like a huge anti-climax.’

  ‘I know what you mean. Like being given something really fab then told to give it back.’

  ‘I know,’ said Cat. ‘Life sucks. I think I need chocolate.’

  ‘Yeah, me too. Still at least we break up on Thursday.’

  ‘I guess,’ said Cat.

  ‘I guess,’ I said. ‘Christmas.’ But even the thought of that didn’t cheer me up.

  The next morning, I grabbed my bike and headed out before the Miseries came down to ruin my life some more. I’d arranged to meet Cat and go to Lia’s where at least we could commiserate in style. Lia’s house is so fab and posh, it’s like a fancy hotel. It has its own grounds, tennis courts and a swimming pool. Amazingly, Lia isn’t spoiled or stuck-up at all about being so well off and her mum always makes Cat and me feel really welcome. I love going there, so it was just the job for today.

  On the way, I couldn’t help thinking what it would be like if I could go for the next round. It occurred to me that all the big stars had to start somewhere; that they were all ordinary people once, but they made it happen. Like Dad always says, because they kept trying. I bet they had obstacles to overcome, I thought as I peddled furiously up a hill.

  Cat was waiting for me at the top and we rode the rest of the way together.

  ‘You know what, Cat?’ I said after we were let in the gates, as we were cycling up the long drive to the house.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I think we should practise new songs for the auditions anyway.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘What’s the point?’

  ‘We shouldn’t give up. We’ll pray for a miracle. You never know what might happen. My dad’s always saying that when he gets a rejection for his novel – it’s not over until it’s over and you must never give up. Like we were watching the World Cup once when my grandad was at our house – I can’t remember who was playing – and it looked like one team had won. Then it went into extra time and in the very last ten seconds, the losing team scored a goal. Grandad was really fed up because he missed it. He thought his team had lost, so got up to make a cup of tea. He’d missed the best moment in the whole match.’

  ‘Yeah, I see what you’re saying,’ said Cat, ‘but . . .’

  ‘No buts,’ I said, ‘and that’s my final word on the subject.’

  ‘Oo, er, get her,’ said Cat. But I’d got her smiling again.

  Lia was waiting for us at the top of the drive and waved when she saw us.

  ‘I’ve had a brill idea,’ she said, beaming at us.

  ‘So have I,’ I said as Cat and I leaned our bikes against the wall and followed Lia inside.

  ‘Come upstairs and I’ll tell you mine,’ she said.

  We bounded up the stairs two at a time and into her gorgeous princess’s bedroom – enormous, with a bay window that has a seat in it so you can sit and look out over the fields to the sea down below, and a huge bed with a turquoise canopy.

  ‘OK, you first,’ she said as she flopped on the bed and Cat and I sat in the window seat.

  ‘Well, I think Cat and I should learn a song anyway,’ I said, ‘even though Cat’s dad and my stupoid parents have said we can’t go. Then we pray for a miracle. I don’t know what, but you never know. Something might turn up, even if we have to hitch-hike and sleep on the street.’

  Lia grinned at us. ‘I may have your miracle. I was thinking about it this morning after you phoned. No place to stay, you said. Then I thought, of course – my sister Star.’

  Cat and I looked at each other and smiled. Star is Lia’s elder sister. Star’s a model in London. She has a flat in London.

  ‘You could stay with her,’ said Lia. ‘I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.’

  I leaped off my seat and gave Lia a hug. ‘Oh, do you think she’d let us? God, that would be so fab. I bet she lives somewhere amazing.’

  ‘She lives in Notting Hill Gate. It is pretty good there,’ said Lia. ‘I could phone her, but first I’d better tell Mum, even though I’m sure she’ll agree. I told her all about your parents saying you couldn’t go and she felt really sorry for you.’

  The roller-coaster ride suddenly changed direction and my hopes soared. ‘Ohmigod, Cat, maybe we can go after all.’

  Lia got up. ‘I’ll go and ask Mum, then I’ll be right back and we can phone Star. OK?’

  ‘OK,’ we chorused as she left the room.

  Cat and I had a look through Lia’s CD collection while she was gone.

  ‘I think I’d like to do the Britney Spears song,’ I said. ‘You know, the one she sings in the movie Crossroads, “I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman”.’

  ‘Oh, good choice,’ said Cat. ‘I think I’d like to do Atomic Kitten, “Whole Again”. I know a few people did it yesterday, but I don’t think that matters, does it?’

  ‘Nah. I lost count of the number of people who did “Rock DJ” or Kylie’s “Spinning Around”.’

  The door opened as we were engrossed in the CDs. We looked up expectantly, but Lia shook her head.

  ‘I’m so sorry, guys; I didn’t know. Apparently Star’s going to Bermuda for Christmas with some new bloke she’s met and she’s already said a couple of her friends can have the flat. I’m so sorry.’

  Down, down, down, my spirits sank. But then I had a flash of inspiration.

  ‘Mac!’ I said.

  ‘Mac what?’ asked Cat.

  ‘Mac. Why didn’t I think of it before? His dad lives in London, doesn’t he?’

  ‘Course! Let’s ring him,’ said Cat. Then her face dropped. ‘Oh, but there’s Jade. Jade’s bound to be staying there, isn’t she? She’s not going to want us along.’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘But Mac’s my boyfriend. Let’s phone and see what he says.’

  Lia picked up the phone, dialled and asked for Mac.

  ‘Not there,’ she said as she put the phone down.

  ‘Oh no,’ said Cat. ‘I can’t stand this sus
pense. Where is he? Bec, haven’t you got his mobile number?’

  But I was already on the phone and this time I got through and explained our idea.

  ‘I was about to ring you,’ he said. ‘Mum’s driving us up on Friday – Jade for the competition and me to spend some time with Dad before Christmas. I was going to tell you so that we could meet up or I could come to the audition with you. Let me ask Dad if you can stay.’

  ‘What about Jade?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, stuff her,’ said Mac. ‘I’m sick of her at the moment. She’s obsessed with this competition and in a really bad mood all the time. I don’t care what she thinks. It’s if Dad says yes or no that counts.’

  He hung up then called back a few minutes later. ‘The man from Del Monte says yes,’ he said. ‘Pack your bags.’

  ‘Mac, you are top,’ I said. ‘Now all I’ve got to do is persuade the Miseries.’

  ‘LET ME GO and have a quick word with your mother,’ said Dad, after I’d explained the plan, the minute I got home. ‘You wait here.’

  We were sitting in his study and I could see he was weakening. ‘Make sure you tell her exactly, Dad,’ I said. ‘Mac’s mum said that Cat and I could have a lift up with them, so no travel expenses, and we could stay at Mac’s so no accommodation to pay for. All I need is a bit of pocket money for the tube and, as for food, I’ll starve. It’s only two days. I can do it. And Cat’s dad has already said that she could go as long as I was going as well and I can’t let her down, not now. OK? Make sure you say that Cat’s dad has said yes.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Dad, getting up from his chair. ‘I think I’ve got it all.’

  As I waited for Dad to come back from talking to Mum, I had a mooch round the study. Everything I saw echoed the way I was feeling. Dad had reminders on sticky notes on his walls to inspire him. One was by a bloke called Hannibal: ‘We will either find a way, or make one,’ it said. That’s right, Hannibal my man, I thought. My sentiments exactly. Another said, ‘The darkest hour is just before dawn.’ Too true. ‘No failure except in not trying,’ said another. I was beginning to feel more and more fired up as I read them.

  Dad came back a few minutes later and smiled when he saw me reading the notes.

  ‘There’s some really good quotes here, Dad,’ I said.

  I know. Some days I need all the inspiration I can get.’ He walked over to his desk. ‘This is one of my favourites. It’s by Robert Browning: “A man’s reach must exceed his grasp. Else what’s a heaven for?”’

  ‘Exactly. You got to have a dream. So? What did Mum say?’

  Dad sat at his desk. ‘She’ll be here in a moment. I’ll let her tell you.’

  I tried to read his face for signs of the verdict, but he wasn’t giving anything away. Oh please, please let her say yes, I prayed, as Dad rummaged in his drawer and pulled out a sheet of paper.

  ‘Look at these,’ he said. ‘It’s a list of novels that were rejected by publishers. Day of the Jackal, Tess of the D’Urbervilles, Catch 22, Animal Farm, Lord of the Flies, Wind in the Willows . . .’

  ‘Wind in the Willows?’ I asked. ‘But we did that at junior school and Mac is doing Lord of the Flies in English.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Dad. ‘I keep this list to remind myself that even writers who have become household names had their fair share of rejections. But they persevered and got accepted in the end. Even Harry Potter was rejected by publishers at first.’

  ‘I think you’re amazing, Dad,’ I said. ‘You’ve had so many rejections and you still keep at it.’

  ‘Well, believe me – there are days when I feel like packing it all in, but, well, what I wanted to say, Becca, is that you have to believe in yourself. There’s a lot of competition out there, there can be a lot of obstacles to overcome on the way.’

  Oh dear, I thought. Is he trying to tell me that Mum’s going to be an obstacle?

  At that moment, the door opened and Mum came in to join us. I looked up at her hopefully. ‘So? Can I go?’

  ‘If it really means so much to you, Becca,’ she said, ‘yes, you can go. But you mustn’t be disappointed if nothing comes of it. I’d hate you to get all your hopes up then be let down.’

  I ran over to her gave her a huge hug. ‘Oh top, Mum. Thanks, thanks so much.’

  She smiled then got out her purse. ‘We’ve been having a chat, your dad and I, and we’ve got something to put to you. It’s your choice, but, well, it’s Christmas soon and of course we’ve put a bit aside to get your presents. If you like you can have the cash to take with you up to London. But it will mean no presents on the day.’

  ‘Oh fantastic. No, Mum, Dad, this is the best Christmas present in the world. This is what I want more than anything. And it means I won’t have to starve.’

  Mum laughed. ‘We’d never let you starve, Becca. Don’t be daft.’

  The rest of the week was brilliant. It felt as if my whole life had gone up a gear. I felt really alive. On Tuesday, Cat and I both got letters confirming our places in the next round and asking us to bring casual clothes and be prepared to stay in London if we were picked for the third round on Sunday. At school, everyone was talking about the competition and when news got out that three of us had got through, we were treated like celebrities. People whispered when we walked past and one girl from Year Seven even asked for my autograph. Of course Jade was a bit sniffy with us and kept to herself. Shame, because if she’d only been a bit friendlier, Cat and I would have been as supportive of her as we were of each other. Part of it all being so fantastic was sharing it with Cat.

  Cat and I practised at every available moment. I’d never worked so hard at anything in my life – sometimes at her house, sometimes at mine, sometimes at Lia’s. And Mac and Squidge came over to watch and lend their support.

  ‘So what happens on Saturday?’ asked Squidge as he filmed us rehearsing in Lia’s bedroom.

  ‘Don’t know exactly,’ I said. ‘We’ve just been asked to come prepared with another song.’

  ‘But are they going to get the numbers down again?’ he asked. ‘How many get through this time?’

  ‘I think it’s down to fifty next,’ said Cat. ‘Twenty-five boys and twenty-five girls. Oh, I wish you could come as well, Squidge.’

  Squidge shrugged and pointed at Mac. ‘Ah well, I have my man here to report back, and besides, that Tanya told me I had to stop filming when the real TV crews arrived last week so I couldn’t have done much anyway.’

  ‘I wish I was coming as well,’ said Lia, ‘but Mum wants me here to help her get ready for Christmas. Maybe next time.’

  ‘Next time?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah, dummy,’ she said. ‘You don’t think it’s all going to stop this weekend, do you? What about the next round?’

  I hadn’t thought about that. I’d been so focused on this weekend, I hadn’t thought about what would come after that. I’d better be careful with my Christmas money, I thought. I may need it to stretch to two weekends.

  ‘Ohmigod. What if one of us actually won? What if we do get through into the final rounds?’ I asked Cat.

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s so exciting isn’t it? Today Torpoint, tomorrow . . .’

  ‘The world,’ said Squidge, grinning.

  ‘Let’s look up what your horoscope says on the Net,’ said Lia. ‘There’s a brilliant site my sister told me about. Maybe it will tell us if you’re going to win or not.’

  ‘Brill,’ said Cat. ‘Switch your computer on.’

  A few minutes later, Lia had printed off our horoscopes. Aries for Cat and Pisces for me. Cat and I quickly read the sheets of paper Lia handed us.

  ‘Ohmigod,’ said Cat, ‘December twenty-first . . . Does it say anything on yours, Becca? Mine says there’s a new moon on that day and that can signify the start of a new chapter. Then it says that Aries is the sign of individuality and I should be ready to shine. I’ll be getting attention from some ‘higher-ups’. That probably means the judges, don’t you think? It doesn
’t say if they’re going to like me or not, though. What does yours say, Bec?’

  ‘Same. The twenty-first is a star-studded day and time of new beginning. Oh, and Venus is conjunct with the moon, meaning romance is in the air for those who are single. A meeting with new friends . . .’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Mac, ‘don’t like the sound of that. Maybe it’s a good job I’m coming along to keep an eye on you.’

  I went over to Lia’s window seat where he was sitting and put my arm around him. ‘Not worried about me running off with Robbie Williams, are you now?’

  Mac took my hand. ‘Nah, course not. He’s way too old for you.’

  I laughed and went back to my horoscope. It did sound promising and I had to admit to myself that there had been some very cute boys at the last audition. It would be nice to at least get talking to some of them and I hoped Mac wasn’t going to hold me back from getting to know them by being possessive or jealous or anything. No harm in making a few new friends, I told myself.

  ‘Well, bring a few of those boys home for me,’ said Lia. ‘I could do with a bit of romance.’

  ‘No prob,’ I said. I noticed that Cat wasn’t saying anything. I was sure she wanted to meet new people as well, as things with Ollie weren’t serious, and besides, he’d gone skiing with a bunch of mates for the Christmas holidays. But I guessed that she was being sensitive to Squidge as they’d only broken up recently. Even though they were both cool about it, she probably didn’t want to hurt his feelings by being too eager about other boys.

  After we’d run through our numbers a couple of times, Lia’s dad popped his head around the door.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, ‘sounds good. Lia’s been telling me all about the competition. Want to show me what you’re going to do?’

  At first, I didn’t want to. I mean, he’s not just any dad – he’s Zac Axford, rock singer extraordinaire. Then I thought, No, if anyone can give us a few tips, it’s him. So I nodded. ‘If you can give us advice, that would be great.’

  I went first and Cat and Lia clapped afterwards.

  ‘Good,’ said Zac. ‘Yeah, you have a good voice, Becca. OK, a few tips: posture – you look terrified. Stand up straight, but try and relax. You were standing too rigidly there. Loosen up – don’t hold your arms so tight to your sides, and bend your knees a little.’