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Soap Star Page 8

by Rowan Coleman


  “I’m not bottling it up, Mum, I’m just…I’m OK. Really.” I gave her my best smile, hoping to reassure her.

  “Your dad called last night,” she said. “He’s going to come over later and take you out for pizza.” My shoulders slumped.

  “Pizza,” I said. “He never used to take me out for pizza on my own. I don’t want to go out for pizza with just him. Everyone will look at us and they’ll know, won’t they? They’ll know I have to go out for pizza with my dad because he doesn’t live at home any more.” My mum crossed the hallway and gave me a big hug, which is exactly what she’d wanted to do all along, I suppose.

  “I know, but your dad is trying, Ruby. And he misses you.” She squeezed me hard. “Besides, the only reason people will look at you is because you’re the girl off the telly. People’s parents split up all the time. You’re not the only girl this had happened to you know.” I looked at her.

  “I’m the only girl it’s happened to who’s me!” I said. I didn’t want to see Dad. Every time I thought about seeing him, the memory of me asking him to stay and him saying no almost came out again until I pushed it really tightly back inside my head. But if I didn’t go, then I knew Mum would feel even more worried and guilty than she already did. Mum was at least trying to be nice to me. Dad, on the other hand, well he deserved everything he got.

  “OK,” I said. “OK, I’ll go for ‘pizza’.” I spat the word out like an old piece of chewing gum. Mum ruffled my hair but, as she was feeling a bit low, I didn’t complain like I usually do.

  “Things are hard right now, Rube,” she said with a sad smile. “But they’ll get better, I promise. Off you go.” I hesitated for a second longer, but then thought of Nydia, who was probably already at Anne-Marie’s house fuming at me for being late.

  “Bye then,” I said, kissing her quickly on the cheek.

  I ran all the way to the bus stop, but I just missed one and the next took twenty minutes to come.

  Nydia was going to kill me.

  Chapter Twelve

  Anne-Marie’s house was exactly like I described. Complete with the video entrance phone and the driveway, not to mention marble pillars and a nice Spanish-sounding lady who answered the door when I (finally) got to it. It was a huge door too. About the size of four normal doors all glued together. I knew there were houses like this in Highgate, but I hadn’t actually been to one; in fact I hadn’t actually been past one because they were always behind lots of trees set far back from the road.

  “Come this way, miss,” the Spanish lady said. “Your friend is already here; they are in the garden.” If Anne-Marie had come to my house it would have taken her about thirty seconds to get from my front door to the back garden. It seemed to take us for ever going through room after huge room. Eventually we came out on to a terrace and the lady pointed me in the direction of a swimming pool. Not just a paddling pool but an actual swimming pool. I said to Mum once a couple of years ago that I didn’t mind if we used my money from the show to buy a bigger house, maybe even one with a pool. But Mum had just laughed and said exactly how much did I think I earned anyway and, besides, she wanted me to have a normal family life in a normal family house and grow up to be a normal well-adjusted adult etcetera etcetera. Well, so much for that plan.

  I could see Anne-Marie reclining on a sunlounger in a pink bikini and matching sarong, and Nydia, perched on the edge of another, wriggling uncomfortably under the heat of the sun and the glare that Anne-Marie was probably giving her from underneath her sunglasses. Poor Nydia. I shouldn’t have let her go through this alone, she’s not good at dealing with scorn.

  “Would you like a drink?” the lady asked me. “I’ll bring you one out.”

  “Oh, yes please,” I said gratefully. I’d run all the way here from the bus and I was hot and sticky. “And could my friend have another one too, please?” The lady nodded.

  “You’re a very nice girl, nice manners, unlike most of her friends. Right little madams, most of them.” She threw a look at Anne-Marie. “Although, with my little Annie, her bark is much worse than her bite, trust me! I love your show, never miss it,” she said before turning back into the house. I took a deep breath and walked down the steps of the terrace to Anne-Marie and Nydia.

  “Hi!” I said, sitting next to Nydia.

  “I waited for you for ages,” she said sulkily under her breath. “And then I thought I’d better go in otherwise she’d think we weren’t coming and go shopping or something.” She looked glumly at Anne-Marie and I tried to imagine the torture she’d been going through waiting for me.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” I said to Anne-Marie. “It’s just that my scripts came and—”

  “Blah, blah, blah,” Anne-Marie interrupted me flapping her hands like two ducks’ beaks. “I’m so important, yak, yak, yak, who cares about anybody else, blah, blah, blah.” She rolled her eyes. “You can’t pull your prima-donna stunts here, OK? If you want my help, you turn up when you say you’re going to turn up.” She sipped her drink through a straw. “I have plans later, you know. I do actually have a life. Now, tell me what this scene is you’re too stupid to be able to act and let’s get on with it.”

  I tried to smile, but suddenly the thought of going through with this plan seemed more ridiculous than ever. All I could think was that I needed to escape somehow. I needed to get Nydia and me out of there before Nydia told her the whole story.

  “Your house is amazing,” I said, hoping to stall her with some small talk while I thought of a way of leaving. “Where are your parents?” Anne-Marie looked bored.

  “Dad’s in LA. Again. Mum’s in Milan until next week, and then she’s going to Tokyo. My brother, Chris, is in Ladbroke Grove staying at his girlfriend’s place – as usual.” I frowned.

  “So you’re living here in this enormous house on your own?” I said, not sure if that was really great or really terrible. “Is that even legal at your age?”

  “No, idiot, not on my own. Pilar, the housekeeper, lives here too. And the man that does the garden comes in every day. Chris is supposed to be here but he never is. It’s no big deal,” she said breezily, her eyes masked by her shades.

  “But…aren’t you lonely?” I asked her. She pushed her sunglasses up her nose and shook her head. For a moment, she looked sort of smaller and younger. More like an average thirteen-year-old girl instead of a hard-as-nails vixen. Then she opened her mouth.

  “Of course I’m not lonely, I’ve got hundreds of friends, and a boyfriend who’s coming over later. You and sad-sack here are the lonely ones. Anyway, I don’t mind, it means I can do what I like.” She sat up and looked directly at me. “It means I can have people like you over with no one having to know about it. Now, stop trying to stall and tell me what it is you want. Otherwise I’ll be so bored you’ll have to leave before I slip into a coma.”

  And I knew then I was too late; I wasn’t getting out of this plan.

  We told her. Well, actually, Nydia told her. First of all Anne-Marie looked horrified, then delighted, and then she just laughed and laughed and laughed until she went perfectly pink from her ears down. Either that or she hadn’t got sun block on.

  “Oh my God!” she shrieked as she reached for her phone. “Just wait until Jade hears about this!” Nydia reached out her hand in a stopping motion.

  “Hang on, remember what we agreed,” she said, sounding quite cross for her. But not cross enough to stop Anne-Marie.

  “That was before I knew what you wanted me to do. You want me to teach her how to kiss. Me? You must think I’m crazy; I always thought you two were weird. You’re probably lesbians.” She keyed in Jade’s number and held the phone to her ear. “This is brilliant,” she said as she waited for Jade to pick up. I looked at Nydia, wide-eyed with panic, waiting for her to come up with one of her plans. She didn’t. She just sat there as if she were frozen solid, even under the heat of the sun.

  “OK,” I said, desperately trying to act as if I didn’t care. “OK, fine. I�
��ll just cancel the meeting I made for you next week with our producer Liz Hornby then.”

  Anne-Marie’s laugh froze on her face.

  “Oh, hi, Jade. Yeah, yeah, I do, but listen I’ll call you back, OK? Something’s just come up.” She put her phone down. “You’ve already set up a meeting? With Liz Hornby?” she said looking at me.

  I am an actress, so really I should be very good at lying. After all, everything I do on screen is basically me trying to convince people I’m someone I’m not. But when it comes to actual lying, off set and in the real world, I’m terrible at it. I can’t look at the person I’m lying to and my voice goes all silly and small.

  “Er, yes,” I said, trying to sound normal. “It’s all arranged, but it can easily be unarranged. There’s a new part coming up, but…” Just at that moment Pilar arrived with two drinks, and Nydia and I both took ours and drank them down in one.

  “But it’s ridiculous! How can I teach you to kiss?” Anne-Marie said. “It’s not something you teach, it’s something you sort of just learn.”

  I sighed. “I can’t just learn it, Anne-Marie. I haven’t got time to learn it or anyone to learn it with. It’s supposed to be my first kiss: I want it to be my first kiss with Justin. It’s got to be perfect.” Anne-Marie grinned like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. “You fancy Justin de Souza, don’t you? Justin, the star of the show, the teen hunk! You fancy him and you seriously think that he might like you! You! Poor guy, has he read the script yet? He’ll probably resign when he does and you won’t have to worry any more.”

  I stood up and looked at Nydia.

  “This is pointless,” I said. “Let’s just go.” Nydia was about to stand up too when Anne-Marie waved for her to sit back down again. She did with a plonk.

  “Hang on,” Anne-Marie said. “Kissing scenes are easy, really. You don’t even have to worry about tongues. You just need to get the mood right, get your nose in the right place and you’ll be fine. And as you’ve so got the hots for Justin, you’ll have no problems. You just need someone to practise on. I’ll arrange it, OK? If you stick to your side of the agreement.” I looked uncertainly at Nydia.

  “OK, but when? I’m on set tomorrow and I got the new scripts today with the kiss scene in them. The read through will be on Monday and we’ll start shooting it Thursday.”

  Anne-Marie thought for a moment.

  “Tomorrow evening. Here. No one will be here anyway.”

  “OK,” Nydia and I said together.

  Nydia picked up her bag. “Listen, Anne-Marie – thanks a lot for doing this…” she began.

  “Don’t thank me, retard. You know why I’m doing it. I must be the only movie producer’s daughter in the world whose father won’t pull any strings to get her parts. He says if I want respect in the business I have to make my own way. Well, I’m making my own way. I’m pulling your strings and that’s all, so don’t start getting all excited and thinking we’ll be friends. We won’t. Ever.” She picked up a magazine from under her chair and opened it. “You can go now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  We walked through the house and down the long drive at the front, back to the real world of traffic fumes and noise.

  “Well that was…hideous,” I said. “I’m so sorry I was late.” Nydia scowled at me. “I’m sorry, Nydia! I wouldn’t have been, honest, but Mum wanted to ‘talk’ to me and I couldn’t just go, could I? Not with her and Dad…you know.”

  Nydia sighed. “I know,” she said. “But she’s so horrible to me, Ruby. She’s even more horrible to me than she is to you. I just don’t get why, I really don’t. What have I ever done to make her hate me so much? She makes me feel like I’m not even…a person. Like I don’t even have feelings that count.” I put an arm around Nydia’s shoulder and we bump-walked together along the road.

  “She treats you like that because that’s how she feels about herself,” I said, using a line I’d thought of for one of my problem-letter replies. “Nydia, you’re not only a person, you’re the best person in the whole world ever. A million times better than Anne-Marie. You’re always there for me and I know how horrible it was for you sucking up to her today. But you know I’d always do the same for you, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do,” Nydia said. “Although so far the worst thing I’ve got myself into was double detention for two weeks.” She grinned at me. “Poor Anne-Marie, it must be so hard being all thin and blonde with those big blue eyes and all those millions of pounds. Poor old her.” Nydia giggled.

  “Yes, poor her,” I said. “Poor little Anne-Marie.” I remembered what I promised her. “She’s going to be really, really angry and mad Anne-Marie pretty soon,” I said.

  “What do you mean?” Nydia asked me.

  “When she finds out I haven’t arranged any meeting for her with Liz. That never in millions of years could I arrange any meetings for anyone. I’m only a kid! She must think I’m miles more important than I am. That’s really going to hack her off when she finds out.”

  Nydia giggled even more.

  “There’s always a bright side,” she said, and we both laughed our way to the bus stop until I remembered something else Anne-Marie had said.

  “Hang on a minute – what did she mean when she said she would get someone for me to practise on…?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “So, what are you having then, kiddo?” Dad said. Kiddo. He had never called me kiddo before in my whole life. I watched him from around the edge of my menu. He was wearing this stupid bright red shirt and he’d got himself a stupid leather jacket. There was something else funny going on. I squinted at him as he studied the menu. Then I realised he’d put gel in his hair and made it all sort of spiky, even around the bits where you could see the pink of his scalp. If it wasn’t so sad it’d be funny.

  “Your hair looks stupid like that,” I said. “I’ll have the marinara. A large one.”

  “All to yourself!” Dad attempted to joke. “You’ll burst!”

  “Are you saying I’m fat?” I said without cracking a smile.

  “Er no, no! Ruby, you’re perfect. I’m glad you don’t worry about what you eat. Too many girls do, especially girls in your industry. It’s not worth it.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “I know that, Dad, I’m not a total moron.” I looked around the restaurant. It was one of our favourite places: we’d all been coming here since I was really little. All the staff knew us and most of the time the other regulars either didn’t recognise me or simply ignored me. But tonight there was a table in the corner – a big family party – who kept looking over at me and nudging each other. I tried not to look at them.

  “Hi, Ruby. Hi, Mr Parker. How’s it going?” Cassie, the waitress, stopped at our table, her order pad poised. “No Mrs Parker tonight?” My dad opened his mouth, but I stepped in before he could say anything.

  “No, no. Mum’s ill. Got the flu – terrible flu – had to stay in bed and we can’t cook so we came out to eat. She’s really, really ill. Not so ill that it would be mean to leave her on her own or anything, just too ill to cook.” Cassie looked concerned.

  “Poor Mrs Parker. I know, I’ll sort out some tiramisu for you to take away for her. That’ll make her feel better, what do you reckon, Ruby?” I nodded gratefully. Cassie took our orders and headed back to the kitchen, past the table of people who kept looking at me. Dad smiled at me: it was a new kind of smile – one he’d only got since he’d left. The sort of smile TV presenters give you when they’re telling you how much they love your work. It was a fake smile.

  “Ruby,” he said all cheerfully. “Darling, I know this is hard for you, I realise that, but, well, there’s no point in pretending that it hasn’t happened. People have to know some time.”

  “Why do they?” I asked him in a low whisper. I nodded in the direction of the table that still kept looking at me. “Those people over there, they recognise me from off the telly. Do they have to know that my parents are splitting up? How do you
think that feels, Dad? Or Cassie, who’s known us since I only used to eat toast and butter wherever I went. Does she have to know? Does she have to know that my life’s been ripped apart by you? I don’t think so. I don’t think anyone has to know.”

  Dad rubbed his hand across his chin and thought for a moment, as if he were trying to find a magic spell that would suddenly make everything all right.

  “Darling, you mustn’t think that this is happening because of you. I love you, never forget that.” I forced myself not to laugh out loud.

  “You don’t love me enough to stay at home,” I hissed at him. “You don’t love me enough to try and work things out with Mum.” I slammed my glass down with a clatter. “Do you?” He was shocked, I could tell. Before all this, it had always been him and me. Always us two joking around, always us teasing Mum or making her cross. Always him I went to when Mum said no. Always him who said yes until Mum overruled him. He must have thought I’d be on his side in all this. He thought wrong.

  “Ruby, you have to see this isn’t about you. It isn’t about how much I love you. It’s about me and your mum being happy. We’re not happy together and things have gone too far now for us to be happy together again. There’s no way we could get back together. Your mum accepts that, she understands it. You have to try too.” Just at that moment Cassie arrived and set down our pizzas.

 

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