Frank put the photos down. ‘Yeah, well, I could be wrong about the cats, I suppose,’ he said.
‘You want stuff on dragons?’ said Hunter.
‘Yes, I want stuff on dragons,’ replied Buchanan.
Chapter 9
For Holly and Archie it didn’t seem quite real. Weaver had driven them to Heathrow Airport, where, without delays or queues, they boarded a luxury private jet, which took them to America.
After take-off, Holly and Archie spent the first couple of hours running around the plane, looking at all the cool stuff. When Holly’s dad told them to sit still, they played computer games then decided to watch a film.
‘I could get used to this,’ said Archie.
‘It certainly beats being stuck inside that house,’ said Holly, lying back in her comfy bed, with her head on the soft pillow. The film was one she had really wanted to see but she only managed to watch the opening credits before her exhaustion caught up with her and she was asleep.
When she awoke, the captain was announcing that they would be landing shortly in Los Angeles, where the local time would be 5 a.m.
‘If you look over to your right, you can see the deserts of California,’ he added.
Holly looked out of the window sleepily. The sun was rising in the sky, reddening the barren landscape. She thought about Dirk. She would phone him when they arrived and tell him where she was.
When the plane landed, there was no messing about with customs or passports. They simply went straight through to the car park, where a black stretch limo was awaiting them.
‘You’ll be staying in the Hollywood Hills,’ said Weaver.
‘Where they make all the films?’ said Holly.
‘You won’t be far from the major studios,’ he replied matter-of-factly.
Big Hair could barely contain herself.
‘Wow, this is real star treatment,’ she squealed.
The limo took them to the city. Seeing a street sign saying ‘Hollywood’, Holly was surprised to see that, in spite of the palm trees that lined the roads, the area actually looked quite ordinary and grubby.
‘Hey, you’re Holly in Hollywood,’ said Archie.
Then they headed up a winding road and the houses got bigger and more how Holly had imagined Hollywood would look. They came to a set of gates, which opened automatically. At the end of the driveway was a large white house with columns along the front and an upstairs balcony.
‘This is where you’ll be staying during your time here,’ said Weaver.
When the car stopped, Holly and Archie burst out and ran to the house. It looked like part of a film set – too new and clean-looking to be a real house. Weaver opened the door. Inside, a central staircase led to a landing and four large rooms, all of which had doors that opened on to the balcony.
Archie pushed one wide open and stepped out. The vast city was laid out before them, bathed in the soft early morning light.
‘Nice view,’ he said.
‘Try this one,’ replied Holly. She was standing at the corner of the building looking the other way, up the hill. Archie joined her and saw what she was looking at.
Above them were nine giant letters set in the hills that spelt HOLLYWOOD.
‘I imagine this sort of thing happens to you all the time,’ said Archie.
‘Oh, every day,’ replied Holly.
‘I may have to call my agent about my latest role,’ said Archie.
‘Me too. I need a much bigger part,’ said Holly.
‘Hey, I wonder if we’re next door to anyone famous.’
They tried to see into next door’s garden but the houses were designed so you couldn’t see in from the balcony. Archie suggested they try looking from one of the trees next to the fence.
As they ran downstairs into the garden, they passed Big Hair who shouted, ‘Stop running around, this isn’t a playground.’ Ignoring her, Holly and Archie found a climbable tree in the garden, and went up.
Next door looked more like a fairytale castle than a house. It had cherub-like gargoyles and turrets and it was painted bright pink. The patio door was open and a girl’s voice cut through the air.
‘I don’t care what anyone else says,’ said the girl. ‘My mum’s exec-producing this film and she agrees with me. We need to reshoot the birth scene with me playing myself …’
‘Who do you think it is?’ whispered Archie.
Holly knew exactly who it was. The patio door opened and Petal Moses stepped out. She was sporting a pink tracksuit and holding a phone to her ear.
‘… Yes, I realise I would have been a baby, but I’m not having some other actor, baby or not, stealing my first scene … I’ll be playing myself … Of course I know I don’t look like a baby …’ she yelled. ‘That’s why they call it acting, darling. Besides, Mum says there’s new technology where they can make me look like a baby if necessary … Chase says it’s fine … Chase Lampton, the director, sweetie … Look, just drop the baby and let me know when I’m needed for the scene. OK?’
She switched off the phone and shook her head in frustration. ‘Casting directors,’ she exclaimed. ‘What a nightmare.’
‘Morning, Petal,’ called Holly cheerfully.
Petal turned to see Holly halfway up the tree.
‘You!’ she said. ‘What are you doing here, spying on me? I could have you arrested for invading my privacy.’
‘We’re neighbours. This is Archie.’
‘Hello,’ said Archie, waving.
‘What are you doing in LA?’ asked Petal sharply.
‘My dad’s working here,’ said Holly.
‘I see. Well, I’m making a film,’ said Petal, smiling smugly. ‘It’s based on my book but we’ve made a few changes – you know, brought it up to date. It’s still all about me, of course.’
‘Is it a comedy?’ asked Archie.
‘No,’ replied Petal. ‘It’s a heart-warming tale of one very special girl’s struggle to grow up under the harsh media spotlight.’
‘Sounds like a horror,’ said Holly.
‘You don’t know anything about movies. Chase says I’ve really got something.’
‘As long as you don’t give it to us,’ said Holly.
Before Petal could think of a retort a woman’s voice called, ‘Petal Moses, come and have some breakfast before piano practice. And I don’t want to hear any more excuses about learning lines. I promised your mother I would make you musical, which is proving to be more difficult than trying to teach algebra to an orang-utan.’
‘Miss Gilfeather?’ said Holly in amazement.
The severe-looking music teacher from William Scrivener’s School stepped out on to the patio holding a bowl of fruit and a glass of juice. Her auburn hair was hidden under a green beret. In spite of the strict tone she had taken with Petal she seemed more relaxed than when Holly had known her at school. Following Petal’s gaze, she looked up at the tree and saw Holly and Archie.
‘Holly Bigsby, third trumpet,’ she said. ‘I hope you’re still practising every day.’
‘Yes, Miss Gilfeather,’ lied Holly, who hadn’t picked up her trumpet for weeks.
‘Such a shame you had to leave us,’ said Miss Gilfeather warmly. ‘You did show a little potential, unlike some students.’ She looked at Petal.
‘How dare you!’ exclaimed Petal. ‘Employing you was the biggest mistake my mother ever made. As soon as she gets out of the studio, I’ll make sure she fires you.’
‘Your mother employed me because she disagrees with me regarding your utter inability in the realms of music. She wants you to have the opportunity that she never had, to learn properly how to play an instrument.’
‘Have you been here all summer?’ asked Holly in disbelief, remembering how much disdain Miss Gilfeather had always showed for both Petal and her popstar mother.
Miss Gilfeather looked uncomfortable. ‘Well, yes … I did have some misgivings when she asked but opportunities like this don’t come along every day. I’d never be
en to this side of America before and I have to admit that pop stars pay rather better than schools …’
Petal’s phone rang. ‘Excuse me. Chase Lampton, the famous director, is calling me.’ She walked back into the house and answered it. ‘Oh, Chase, darling, are you coming round?’
‘Why don’t you join us for breakfast?’ said Miss Gilfeather. ‘There’s plenty of food and I could do with some civilised conversation for a change.’
‘Is that OK? And Archie too?’ said Holly, who could hear Petal twittering on inside the house.
‘Oh yes,’ said Miss Gilfeather. ‘As much as it annoys Madam, her mother put me in charge of the house while she’s away recording her new album. Come round now and I’ll make some pancakes.’
Chapter 10
Where are you going?’ demanded Big Hair, as Holly and Archie made for the front door.
‘We’ve been invited next door for breakfast. Miss Gilfeather is staying there.’
‘Your old music teacher?’ said Big Hair. ‘What a small world it is. I wouldn’t want to decorate it though,’ she added, laughing at her own joke.
Archie and Holly looked at each other. America appeared to have had a rather odd effect on Big Hair.
‘So it’s OK to go round?’ said Holly.
‘Of course. Don’t be too long, I thought we’d go and see the sights later on,’ she said.
Holly and Archie headed down the drive.
‘I think the sun’s gone to her head,’ said Archie, looking up at the perfect blue sky.
‘Don’t knock it,’ said Holly.
She pressed the buzzer outside Petal’s house and the gate opened. They headed up the driveway and Miss Gilfeather welcomed them into the house. The walls were covered with framed discs, album artwork and photos from Petal’s mum’s career. A cabinet by the door displayed hundreds of gleaming awards in different shapes and sizes. In the centre of the hallway, at the base of the sweeping staircase, was a life-sized marble statue of Petal’s mother kneeling in what looked like a puddle. Water trickled down from the statue’s eyes and at the base of the statue was a gold plaque that read: ‘She weeps for world peace’.
‘Apparently it’s the name of one of her albums,’ said Miss Gilfeather. ‘Isn’t it hideous?’
The buzzer sounded and Petal appeared at the top of the stairs.
‘Will you get that, Miss Gilfeather? It’ll be Chase …’ She stopped, noticing Holly and Archie. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I invited them round, and I am not your servant, Petal,’ said Miss Gilfeather, pressing the button to open the gate.
‘You can’t go inviting people round my house.’
‘As you well know, I am in charge in your mother’s absence,’ said Miss Gilfeather. ‘Holly did, at least, show some glimmer of natural ability at the trumpet. Do you play anything?’ she asked Archie.
‘My dad gave me a guitar once,’ replied Archie.
‘A lovely instrument if played well,’ said Miss Gilfeather approvingly.
‘Only the strings hurt my fingers and then he flogged it,’ he added.
‘Learning any instrument always involves an element of pain to begin with,’ said the music teacher. ‘More often for those having to listen to the beginner’s efforts, but one must go through the pain barrier in order to achieve beauty.’
‘Then what pain did you go through to achieve such captivating charm?’ said a man, entering the hallway. He had thick curly black hair and was wearing an expensive pair of sunglasses.
‘Good morning, Mr Lampton,’ said Miss Gilfeather. ‘Is it too bright for you in here?’
The man smiled and removed his sunglasses to reveal dark brown eyes. ‘Hi, Vivian,’ he replied in a cool American accent. ‘And, please, it’s Chase to my friends.’
‘Until we become friends I will stick with Mr Lampton, Mr Lampton. I’ll make some coffee,’ replied Miss Gilfeather, walking to the kitchen.
‘Hi, Chase,’ beamed Petal, suddenly developing an American twang in her voice.
‘And how is my talented leading lady?’
‘I’m fine, thanks, Chase. Where’s Dante?’
‘He’s on the phone to his agent. He’ll be in in a minute. I see you’ve got guests this morning,’ said Chase, nodding at Holly and Archie. ‘I hope you two aren’t distracting our star here.’
‘Oh, just ignore them,’ said Petal. ‘They aren’t anybody.’
‘That’s right, we’re nobody,’ said Holly.
‘I used to be somebody, but now I’m not anybody,’ said Archie.
Chase smiled and said to Petal, ‘Did you manage to get a chance to look through the rewrite for the final scene?’
‘Yes, I’ve made a few notes. I was thinking what if … wait for it … what if I were to fly at the end of the film?’
‘Fly?’ said Chase.
‘Yes, what do you think? Mum thinks it would be a great way to end the film.’
Chase paused as if visualising the idea, then nodded. ‘Yeah, I can see that working. You could fly right over all the teachers and pupils in the concert. Real feel-good moment. Great idea.’
‘It ends with a concert?’ said Holly.
‘That’s right,’ said Chase, ‘Petal’s big moment when she sang her first solo at the school concert this year. It’s not in the book but we thought it would make a good ending for the movie. We’re filming it today. Why don’t you come down and sit in the audience? It would be good to get some genuine Brit accents.’
‘I think you’ll find mine to be a genuine British accent, Papa,’ said a boy who entered behind Chase, with the same thick black hair, sunglasses, leather jacket and designer jeans as the director.
‘Hi, Dante,’ said Petal.
‘Good morning, Petal,’ said Dante in an English accent that caused Holly and Archie to fall about laughing. ‘What’s so funny?’ he asked, reverting to his normal American voice.
‘Nothing,’ said Archie, controlling himself. ‘I thought it was a splendid accent, old bean.’
‘Hey, thanks,’ said Dante. ‘I’m Dante Lampton. I play Callum Thackley, the disturbed but musically brilliant son of the Prime Minister.’
‘He’s not that musically brilliant,’ said Petal.
‘Callum’s in the film?’ said Holly, astonished.
‘It’s only a supporting role,’ said Petal.
‘I wanted to use the character of Callum to show how people deal with things differently,’ said Chase Lampton.
‘Callum’s not a character. He’s a real person,’ said Holly.
‘What interests me is how the same kind of media attention that Petal thrives on is what drove poor Callum mad,’ said Chase.
‘That’s not fair …’ said Holly, but she could hardly explain how the monsters that haunted Callum were not figments of his imagination but very real dragons.
‘Oh yes, I forgot Holly had a crush on Callum,’ said Petal.
‘I did not,’ said Holly. ‘We just played in the band together.’
‘So you were at the concert too?’ said Chase. ‘Tell me what you can remember about it. We’re recreating it today but there’s no footage of it.’
Holly could remember every detail of the horrific night when the Dark Mountain Dragon, Vainclaw Grandin, had entranced the hall with Dragonsong but she lied and said, ‘I only remember how good it was.’
‘Ha! You see,’ said Chase, snapping his fingers, ‘that’s what everyone says. It’s kind of spooky. You know, there are rumours on the Internet that something strange happened that night – like something, you know, magic.’
‘What nonsense. Unless you are referring to the magic of music,’ said Miss Gilfeather, stepping into the hallway, not realising how close to the truth she was. After all, it was Dirk’s Dragonsong which had caused everyone to forget the evening.
Chase smiled. ‘You know, Vivian, it’s not too late to play yourself. The actress playing you isn’t a patch on the real thing.’
‘I’m sure she would be fl
attered to hear you say so,’ replied Miss Gilfeather. ‘I’ll be quite content as a member of the audience.’
‘Can we sit with you?’ said Holly.
‘Of course,’ said Miss Gilfeather. ‘Now come along. Breakfast is ready in the dining room.’
The buzzer sounded.
‘You go ahead,’ said Chase. ‘That’ll be Theo. He’s all wound up about something as usual. You go through. I’ll be there in a minute.’
‘Theo is Chase’s assistant director,’ explained Miss Gilfeather, leading them into the dining room.
‘So do you want to be an actor when you grow up?’ Holly said to Dante.
‘I’m an actor now,’ he replied. ‘I’m going to be a director when I grow up like Dad. Acting is a good way to get to know the business. Do you want to be in the movies too?’
‘No, I’m going to be a detective,’ replied Holly, picturing herself sitting in an office like Dirk’s or wearing a wide-brimmed hat like Ladbroke Blake, another detective she knew who had once been hired to follow her and had, ever since, helped her out of some tight spots.
‘Since you know Callum, can you tell me what you think of my impression?’ said Dante. ‘I want to get him just right but I’ve not been allowed to meet him.’
Dante turned round and tried to flatten his unkempt hair against his head. When he turned to face them again, he had a strange look on his face and he allowed his eyes to roll around in his head. Holly had to admit that it wasn’t a bad likeness of Callum. Dante walked around the dining-room table, allowing his right leg to drag behind him in a limp and spoke in his attempt at an English accent. ‘My name is Callum Thackley. They call me Crazy Callum. But it is not I who is mad. It is you.’ Dante relaxed, smiled, and said in his normal voice, ‘What do you think?’
‘Well … It’s not bad,’ said Holly, ‘but Callum doesn’t really have a limp.’
‘I know that,’ replied Dante, with a theatrical wave of his hand, ‘but I thought it would help bring the character alive.’
‘Yes, but he doesn’t have one,’ said Holly.
‘I like the limp,’ said Petal.
The Case of the Stolen Film Page 4
