Hollywood Star Read online

  “But that wouldn’t happen to Jeremy,” I said. “He’s a British institution, even if he is my mum’s boyfriend. Or to Imogene Grant. Imogene is real star.”

  “No, it wouldn’t happen to Jeremy,” Augusto agreed. “Or Miss Grant, but for other actors, younger actors, maybe who were just starting out – well it could mean their career is ended before it even really began.”

  “Oh,” I said, eyes wide. “Well, that would be terrible. I mean, you spend all that time working hard on a—” I stopped talking and looked at Augusto. “Like me, you mean?” I asked, feeling sick in the pit of my stomach.

  “Don’t worry, Ruby,” Augusto said. “If anyone can turn things around it’s Jeremy and, like you say, it’s only a few comments in one magazine. It might be nothing to worry about at all.” He smiled his big warm smile at me, but I thought about the conversation that Micheal had just had with Jeremy and I didn’t feel very much better.

  “I can see by the look on your face that you aren’t really looking forward to my sushi,” Augusto said sympathetically. “Anything else I can whip you up for lunch?”

  “A plane ticket home?” I asked him miserably. “I think I’m finished in Hollywood.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Augusto told me. “You haven’t even begun yet.”

  Suddenly David leapt up and, putting his paws on my shoulder, licked my neck.

  “Look, even David’s trying to make you feel better,” Augusto said with a chuckle. “You’re honoured that dog likes you.”

  “Either that,” I said, squirming “or he wants to eat me.”

  When I went back to tell Mum and Jeremy the sushi was ready, Mum seemed happier and brighter, even though her face was still smudged with tears.

  “You’re sure that’s what you want?” Jeremy was asking her as I approached. He had one hand on each shoulder as he looked into her eyes. “Because I want you to know that I think you are utterly perfect exactly the way you are. “

  I nearly turned round and walked back out the room to simultaneously die of embarrassment and throw up. But my curiosity won out and I stood my ground. I wanted to know what it was that Mum was absolutely sure about.

  “I am,” Mum said with a brave little smile. “And besides, if I am going to be with you, then I have to be prepared for this kind of attention.”

  At that point I realised that Jeremy was probably going to kiss my mum in front of me, possibly with tongues and everything. I like to think that I’ve been quite cool about things like my dad’s so-called girlfriend and my mum’s megastar man, but witnessing that would be a step too far.

  “A-hem!” I coughed loudly enough to make the pair Jump apart and had to suppress a smirk. “The raw fish thing is served, but I’m having a cheese toastie because frankly it looks disgusting to me.”

  Jeremy and Mum smiled indulgently at me and as we walked back to the kitchen Jeremy patted me on the back and said, “Are you sure, Ruby? It’s good to broaden your horizons, you know, take a chance every now and then.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “And I want to do that, but I don’t want to eat raw fish. Because it’s fish and it’s raw.”

  I waited for either one of them to tell me what they had been talking about, but they clearly weren’t going to. “So?” I asked as we sat down at the table and I saw my mum looking rather fondly at my cheese toastie. “What have you two decided?”

  “Oh!” Mum said, looking at Jeremy in a secretive way I didn’t like at all, like I was an outsider. “Nothing much. We were just planning what to do after New Year. Jeremy says we’ve got to make the most of our time left here. I am going to a day spa and salon to have a few treatments, get my hair and nails done, that sort of thing…”

  “Really?” I said, thinking a few highlights and some false nails might make her feel better. “Good idea. Am I coming too? Can I go blonde, please, Mum? I am nearly fourteen.”

  Jeremy smiled. “No, Ruby, you are coming with me. While you were helping Augusto, I phoned Michael. You and I are going into Wide Open Universe Studios. We’re going to watch a screening of The Lost Treasure of King Arthur, and talk about publicity with Art and Imogene and all the studio people.”

  “Are we?” I cheered up. “It will be nice to see Imogene again, and Art – but what about Harry?” Harry McLean was Imogene’s leading man, although I never really got to know him very well as he spent a lot of time in his trailer.

  “Ah, nooo, I’m afraid not,” Jeremy said, looking down at his sushi. “He’s not very well at the moment. He’s in a special type of hospital getting better.”

  “Better from what?” I asked him.

  “Well – let’s just say that too much of anything is bad for you, Ruby,” Jeremy told me with a shrug.

  “Even sushi?” I asked him, annoyed not only that he wouldn’t tell me, but that he wouldn’t tell me in such a smug way. After all, I’d had plenty of experience with celebrity health problems before. Brett Summers, my old TV mum, was always in and out of clinics because of her intolerance to alcohol, and Imogene Grant had told me herself about the eating disorder that had nearly killed her. And even though she isn’t quite a celebrity yet, even my best friend Nydia had collapsed and banged her head badly because she’d stopped eating to try and make herself thin. I knew what the pressures of fame could do to a person. I didn’t need Jeremy to keep it from me.

  “Anyway” Jeremy went on, smiling at me like I was next door’s toddler, “perhaps if there is time we might be able to show you the set of my new film. The actors are all still on break, but you’ll enjoy seeing the sets, won’t you?”

  I should have been over the moon. I should have been cart-wheeling in excitement, but nobody, except possibly David, seemed to have noticed how the events of that morning, the column in People’s Choice Magazine and its sly digs at The Lost Treasure of King Arthur, might affect me. All of that, topped off with Jeremy and Mum kissing, and his smug, smiling ways had put me in a sulk.

  “Whatever,” I said quite rudely, pushing my plate away so that it skidded across the polished granite surface. “So for the rest of today I can do what I like, right?”

  They nodded, Mum with her thin lips pressed together and a “I’ll talk to you later, young lady” look on her face.

  “Can I phone Dad then?” I asked.

  “Of course you can, Ruby,” Jeremy answered. “Use the phone in your room if you want to be private.”

  “I was going to anyway,” I said, knowing I sounded childish, but not quite able to stop myself. “And then I’m going to see if I have any e-mails and I might have a swim after and then I’ll…” I looked around the room for something else to list. “I’ll take David for a walk. I expect I’ll be busy until dinner, so don’t worry about me – if you were going to anyway, which I doubt. Oh, and Happy New Year!”

  And then I flounced. I flounced out of the kitchen and up the stairs and (because I was too busy flouncing with my chin in the air) I flounced into the laundry cupboard and slammed its door shut. Hoping they hadn’t realised, I waited for a moment or two and then ran down the hall to where my room really was and slammed that door too for good measure.

  It was a horrible way to behave. Rude and, as my mum would no doubt tell me later, very unattractive. But I couldn’t help it. That was the way I felt. I was all churned up and cross, and I suppose a bit jealous and left out, and I didn’t like it.

  I found the phone next to the bed and the piece of paper Jeremy had written down the international dialling code on for me and dialled Dad’s number.

  It would be evening back at home, so I was certain that Dad would answer. I was wrong.

  It was Dad’s so-called girlfriend who answered.

  From: Danny[[email protected]]

  To: Ruby [[email protected]]

  Subject: Re: Hello

  Hi Ruby

  How is it going over there? Sorry I haven’t e-mailed sooner I’ve been really busy with the new family that have just started on Kensington Heights bec
ause I have a lot of scenes with the daughter, a girl our age called melody Butler. She’s playing a character called Lacey St Claire. I spent Christmas Day at my dad’s this year which was quite a laugh as my little brother is still really into it and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Dad had got him a bike! And then I spent Boxing Day at my mum’s which was DK. I got some good presents. Rn mp3 player [but not an iPod], some trainers and, wait for it…R Christmas number one! I know it’s amazing, isn’t it? I can’t believe that Liz finally talked me into recording that awful song, but anyway now Kensington Heights [Vou take me to…] is a hit and it was only released the week before Christmas! I don’t know what they did to my awful voice, but it sounds all right and loads of people bought it! There is even talk about an album, but I don’t know about that.

  I bet you are seeing loads of celebrities and forgetting about all of us little people! Looking forward to seeing you in a few days.

  Danny

  PS Nydia did an audition for this part on a new CBBC show called Totally Busted.

  Chapter Three

  At first when I heard a woman’s voice I thought I must have the wrong number so I said, “Sorry, I thought this was Frank Parker’s number.”

  But Just before I could put the phone down the female voice stopped me. “It is! It is Frank’s number. Hello – is that Ruby? I’m Denise.”

  I said nothing for what seemed like a long time.

  “Denise,” the voice on the other end of the phone said again, sounding totally natural and even quite amused. “Your father’s so-called girlfriend.”

  I felt my cheeks burning pink and thanked my lucky stars that she couldn’t see me. It was one thing to have a fairly rude nickname for a person behind their backs, but it was another thing entirely to realise that the person knew about it. I couldn’t believe my dad had told her, especially when she was now supposed to be his ex so-called girlfriend. I couldn’t work out why she was there at all.

  “The thing is,” I said, “I’m calling from America and it is probably costing my mum’s so-called boyfriend a lot of money, so can I talk to Dad, please?”

  Denise laughed. “I like you, Ruby,” she said. “Very direct.”

  “You haven’t even met me,” I said. At least my dad hadn’t forced that particular ordeal on me. Yet. Maybe by half term I’d find myself on a wet and windy beach in Brighton with so-called Denise. Well, if she liked direct, I’d give her direct.

  “I thought you and Dad had split up?” I said. I would never normally ask an adult that kind of question in that kind of way, but as she was so far away it didn’t quite seem real.

  Denise laughed again. “Oh no, dear, we Just had a misunderstanding. It’s all cleared up now.”

  “Can you put Dad on, please?” I asked.

  “Can’t, love. He’s popped out to the shop. He’ll be back in a few minutes. We could chat while we wait if you like. I’m sure Jeremy Fort can afford it.” Denise laughed. I did not. And I couldn’t actually believe what came out of my mouth next.

  “Yes, he can afford it,” I said, sounding exactly like I thought Anne-Marie did when she was giving someone the brush off. “But I don’t want to talk to you.”

  I put down the phone and for about fifteen seconds I felt quite pleased with myself. And then I remembered that I phoned Dad to try and make up with him, and that being rude to his ex- or un-ex-so-called girlfriend was not the best way to go about it.

  I didn’t know what was wrong with me. OK, I was feeling a bit fed up about Mum and Jeremy, and worried about what People’s Choice Magazine said about the film (and my mum). But I wasn’t acting like me at all. I’m not rude to people and I don’t talk back, and I never put the phone down on someone after insulting them because I’m me, Ruby Parker – really bad at rebelling. Maybe my mum was right to be worried about me keeping my feet on the ground because suddenly I felt untethered, as if I was careering off in all directions like a popped balloon. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t know how to stop it.

  I thought about picking up the phone again and saying sorry to Denise, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I knew that the next time I spoke to or saw Dad I was going to be in really big trouble with him. I half expected him to call here and tell my mum how dreadful I’d been. So I decided not to phone back. I’d face the music when I saw him and we could make up then, because hopefully by then I’d be me again.

  That’s when I checked my e-mails on the laptop in my room. There was only one e-mail in my inbox and I was glad to see it was from Danny. When I saw his name there my heart skipped a beat and I smiled to myself.

  At least I could rely on Danny. He was a good friend and even though we’d nearly split up that time he thought that I was in love with Sean Rivers we had stuck together.

  I couldn’t believe his news! I knew that Liz Hornby, the producer, had finally persuaded Danny to record the Kensington Heights theme tune as a song because Nydia and I went along with him to the studio when he made it.

  Me and Nydia had laughed all day because as lovely as Danny is, and as good-looking, he really can’t sing at all. He did about a million takes and each one seemed worse than the last. Even Danny was laughing about it and said that the only hope of saving his career was if the record was so bad it sank without anybody ever hearing it.

  Well, it looks like that didn’t happen. It occurred to me that maybe Danny was Joking, so I logged on to the UK Top 40. Sure enough there it was in black and white: 1. Danny Harvey Kensington Heights (You take me to…).

  I was going out with a proper pop star (or quite possibly a proper one-hit wonder, but anyway, I didn’t care). I was proud of him.

  Suddenly, I wanted to speak to Danny really badly and I looked at the phone. Mum and Jeremy had said I could call Dad. They hadn’t exactly said I couldn’t call anybody else, but then again they hadn’t definitely said I could call who I liked and Mum was strict about our bill at home (including my mobile) so I was fairly sure she wouldn’t approve.

  I supposed I could go downstairs and ask permission to call Danny, but that would mean finding them, possibly interrupting them mid tongue-type kissing and then having to say sorry and be nice, something I was having trouble doing just now. Anyway, feeling uncharacteristically rebellious once again, I decided that, as Dad’s so-called and apparently not ex-girlfriend had said, Jeremy could afford it.

  “You’re a genius,” I said as soon as I heard Danny’s voice.

  “Oh, Rube!” he said a little hesitantly as if caught off guard. “Hiya! What a nice surprise!” I was happy at how pleased to hear from me he sounded. “It’s mad, isn’t it? My rubbish record at number one! I’ll never have any rock credibility ever again.”

  “You never did anyway,” I laughed. “But seriously, Danny – that’s amazing. Wait till you get back to school. Michael Henderson is going to die with Jealousy.”

  “I think he already has over Anne-Marie and Sean.” Danny paused. “So how was your Christmas?” he asked.

  “Weird,” I said. “Jeremy and Mum are like the geriatric version of Anne-Marie and Sean, all gooey and ooey and I love you, I love you, I love you!”

  “Seriously?” Danny said, chuckling.

  “Well, I haven’t actually heard them say the ‘I love you’ thing, but I wouldn’t be surprised. The ooey and gooey stuff is a horrific fact I have to live with on a daily basis. But I suppose Mum needed it today. The paparazzi took a photo of her and it got printed in this horrible magazine that said horrible things about her. “

  “That’s dreadful, Ruby,” Danny said. “Is she OK?”

  “The thing is I don’t know. She seems all right, but she hasn’t really talked to me about it. Jeremy’s looked after her and tomorrow she’s going to get her hair and nails done. She’ll be OK,” I said. “Back to normal Mum settings soon.”

  Danny laughed. “So, Ruby Parker, how’s America? Is it as exciting and as glam as you thought it would be?”

  I thought about the article in People’s Cho
ice Magazine.

  “It is, but it’s also much more like being in a foreign country than I thought it would be. No, scrap that, it’s like being on another planet. Even Jeremy’s different here – he’s even got a celebrity dog!” I said, making Danny laugh as I told him about my first meeting with David. His laugh made my tummy tense.

  “I miss you,” I mumbled before I knew what I’d said.

  “When are you back?” Danny asked me, without telling me he missed me too.

  “About a week. We fly home on January 6th,” I told him. “I’m actually looking forward to going back to school.”

  “Me too,” Danny said, and I thought I could hear a smile in his voice. “OK then, Ruby, I’ll see you in a week.”

  I knew he was being all cool and offhand because once I had told him that he carried on like Romeo out of Romeo and Juliet, all overdramatic and far too serious. He had taken that information to heart. A little bit too close to heart, I sometimes felt, especially now when I felt so lonely and he seemed so far away.

  “I’ll see you then,” I said, wanting to say more but not knowing how to.

  “Ciao, baby,” Danny said in an appalling Italian accent and then he was gone.

  I felt better and worse when I put the phone down. Better because talking to Danny had cheered me up, but worse because I couldn’t Just go round to his house to watch TV, or meet him at the café on the corner for hot chocolate, or try to outrun screaming mobs of ten-year-olds with him. And I missed that.

  Just then I heard a strange scraping and scratching outside my room, and a high-pitched whimper. I got up and opened the door. David trotted in and with some effort scrambled up on to my bed, and after turning three clockwise circles, he curled up in a tiny ball, his nose on his paws, and looked at me.