Soap Star Page 7

  “Me, coach little Miss I’m-so-brilliant-and-famous?” Anne-Marie barked out a harsh laugh. “No way. If she’d ever wanted any help from me she should have got off her high horse and stopped acting so snotty about being on TV years ago. She’s got everything, she doesn’t need me, and even if she did, I certainly wouldn’t help her. I mean, she’s so high and mighty she can’t even ring and ask me herself, she had to get her little servant to do it.”

  My jaw dropped and I looked at Nydia. Anne-Marie calling me snooty? Me stuck-up! I tried to grab the phone off Nydia to tell Anne-Marie exactly what I thought of her, but she tussled it out of my hands, held me at arm’s-length and glared at me until I signalled I would listen quietly again.

  “I know,” Nydia said with surprising calm. “You’re right. She can come across as the big ‘I am’ sometimes, but it’s basically only to cover up her many insecurities. She didn’t phone you tonight because, well, I haven’t told her I’m calling you. I wanted to see if you’d help us before I raised her hopes. She really does respect you, Anne-Marie, more than you know. She actually looks up to you.” I stuck my finger down my throat and mimed vomiting on to the floor. Nydia signalled for me to shush. “And just think, if you help Ruby now, maybe she’ll be able to get you some introductions on the show like she did for Danny Harvey—”

  “Danny’s got a part on Kensington Heights?” Anne-Marie exclaimed. “I knew she fancied him, it was so obvious! God, how sick is that, trying to buy a boyfriend? If it wasn’t for the fact you’ve got no other friends and no one else would even talk to you, I’d tell you to drop her, Nydia, she’s sick.” Nydia winced as if Anne-Marie had slapped her face and, taking a deep breath, put on her special happy smile, the one she uses for her frequent plan-backfiring related meetings with Sylvia Lighthouse. I felt bad as, after all, she was only putting herself through all of this for me. She really was the world’s best friend.

  “No! No, she doesn’t fancy Danny, not at all, they just talked a bit during the school play last year and she decided to help him out. She could help you out too, get you on the set and introduce you to a few important people.” Nydia paused for a moment to let the idea sink before adding, “Apparently they’re looking for a new teenager…” Anne-Marie was silent again for what seemed like for ever.

  “How do I know you’re not just feeding me a pack of lies?” she said, her voice as cold as ice. Nydia and I exchanged a look: that was a tricky one because, after all, that was exactly what we were doing. Nydia steeled herself.

  “Because we need you to help us,” she said evenly, looking at me and crossing her fingers. “And because you can trust us.”

  “Trust you two, the original stupid twins?” Anne-Marie snorted, sounding like a pig. “As if!”

  “OK, then,” Nydia said quickly. “OK, fine. We’ll leave it, but when you see someone else with that part, don’t go blaming us…”

  Anne-Marie sighed. “No, no…hang on a minute. Tell me exactly what I’d have to do and I’ll think about it,” she said.

  “Er, OK, but we don’t tell you exactly how you’re helping us until we meet you tomorrow, and you must never tell anyone anything. Ruby will arrange for you to get on the set and meet all the right people, but that will only happen after completion of the agreement. So what do you say – will you do it?” Nydia held my hand so tightly the tips of my fingers went white.

  “You know what, Nydia, it’s lucky for you that you know Ruby, isn’t it? Otherwise your fat little life would be really boring.” Nydia flinched again and I squeezed her fingers back. “You’d better not be winding me up. If I find out this is one of your stupid little scams, I swear I’ll make you pay.”

  Nydia looked at me and winked. She was such a nice person that I honestly think if Anne-Marie had been even a little bit nice to her she would have called the whole thing off. As it was, she was happy to close the deal.

  “It’s not a scam. Ruby can make it happen. She’s on the telly, remember?” Nydia said it in such a way as to remind Anne-Marie that she wasn’t on telly, never had been, and hadn’t even had an advert in a year. There was a long and agonising silence.

  “OK,” Anne-Marie said. “I’ll do it.” So we arranged to go round to her place in the morning and sort it all out then. Just like that.

  “You heard what she said,” I said later, when we’d calmed down and stopped jumping on the bed like idiots. She’s going to totally kill us. At least now she just ignores us. After this she’s going to…she’s going to…well, kill us.” Nydia smiled and gave me a hug.

  “Relax, it’ll be fine. We’ll worry about that after we’ve got your kiss out of the way. She’ll probably just forget about it anyway.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, right!” I exclaimed. The excitement was suddenly gone. I felt sick again. “You shouldn’t have told her that I helped Danny. I didn’t even know he was going to be on the show until today! I mean, I just very nearly got sacked myself – the last thing I have is any influence.”

  “I know,” Nydia said. “But I had to have a way in with her. It’s the only thing she understands.” I nodded.

  “And what about her calling me stuck-up? Imagine that!” I said.

  “Imagine,” Nydia agreed.

  Nydia’s dad took me home just before nine thirty. The house was quiet except for the murmur of the TV in the living room, so I crept in and stood in the hallway for a few seconds, waiting for Mum to call out to me. When she didn’t, I peeked round the door. She was asleep in the chair, a glass of red wine in her hand, tipped over so it was almost going to spill. I stood there for a moment and wondered what to do. Eventually I tiptoed in and carefully lifted the glass out of her hand. It was full and the open bottle on the coffee table was still half full, so at least she hadn’t got herself drunk like Angel’s mum did in the show.

  I set the glass down on the table and looked at her. Her mouth was open and her eyes were screwed up, as if she were dreaming in frowns. I took a pen from the sideboard and wrote on the back of an envelope, “I’m back, Rx” and rested it on her knees. Then I went to bed.

  I don’t know what the time was, but I’d been asleep for a while when I heard her come into my room – just like she used to when I was a baby. I kept my eyes closed and my breathing steady as she sat on the edge of my bed. She brushed the hair off my face and kissed my cheek.

  “Sleep well, my baby,” she whispered. “I love you.” I lay very still as she went back out of the room, still pretending to be asleep, but it was a long time before I was.

  29 Windhouse Street

  Brighton

  Sussex

  Dear Angel,

  Last year your mum and dad split up for a while and you were really sad. Do you remember they had a big custody battle over you and you thought that you were going to have to choose between them? Then you all got trapped in that lift as it hung by a single wire for two episodes and you realised that you all loved each other more than anything and they called off the divorce.

  Because of this I know you will understand how I feel, Angel. My mum and dad have split up too. My mum has got a new boyfriend; she got him before she split up with Dad and now Dad is very angry. He doesn’t live at home now and Mum won’t let him near the house; she says she’ll get a restraining order if he even tries to talk to me or my little brother Josh. He’s not even allowed to pick us up from school. Mum says that Dad is a bad person and that he’s never really loved us. Dad told me Mum didn’t care about anything or anyone except herself and that we should come and live with him. We have to see a social worker soon and tell her what we think.

  The thing is, Angel, I know they still love each other really—just like your mum and dad. How can I make them see it? We don’t live near any tall buildings with lifts and anyway Mum won’t go in one since she saw that episode of Kensington Heights.

  Thank you for listening.

  Naomi Torrence

  Chapter Eleven

  I looked at Naomi’s let
ter for a long time after it arrived this morning with the rest of the post from the studio. I couldn’t think of anything to say. How could I tell her that Angel’s mum and dad only got back together because Trudy had written it that way? Not because of anything real, not because of anything that might happen to a real girl like Naomi or a real girl like me. I should be glad, I suppose, that my mum and dad haven’t said or done the things that Naomi’s mum or dad have. But I’m not.

  I read the letter again, and part of me wanted to write back and tell her I did know exactly how she felt. I did know because it was happening to me too, and it didn’t matter if it happened to one in three families or one in three billion, because when it happens to you it feels like the worst thing in the world. But somehow I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t write anything to Naomi and my usual pep talk and leaflet for ChildLine seemed pointless.

  For the first time I thought about what I would do if someone told me to talk to a teacher, or my mum, or a stranger on the end of the phone, even a very nice one. I didn’t know if I’d be able to take that advice. To say the words, to really say out loud the things that are worrying you is hard, maybe too hard. Maybe it’s best just to try and pretend they aren’t there and get on with things. But I can’t write that to Naomi; she needs someone to tell her that everything is going to be OK one day. I don’t know if it is any more. Not for her or for me. So I folded the letter up and tucked it into my pillowcase (which is where I plan to put the love letters that Justin will write me one day). Then I pulled out my scripts for the next four shows.

  Everest pushed open my bedroom door with his nose and looked at me, before lumbering up to my bed. I reached down and helped him beside me, pulling the scripts he was lying on out from under his tummy.

  I looked at them lying on my lap in their pale yellow covers, with the Kensington Heights logo swirled across the little window that showed the episode number and title. This episode was called ‘Awakenings’. Normally, I’d take it downstairs and Mum would go through it with me, highlight my lines, and we’d give them a general read through so I knew how Angel was supposed to be thinking and feeling, and then I’d sort of learn them. I say sort of because it’s not like a play where you always have to get it right all of the time. I mean, you do have to get it right, but you can improvise too, make up your own way of saying the line, as long as when we get to the end of the scene everyone is happy. Our schedule is too tight to learn them all off by heart. But when Mum brought my tea in this morning her eyes were red and her nose looked swollen and she’d probably been crying again. I didn’t want her to feel like she had to hide it from me so I thought I should stay out of her way.

  Anyway, on the third script there was a bright pink Post-it note with Trudy’s handwriting crawling over it in fat blue marker pen. “Read this scene first! It’s so fab!” I picked up the script and turned to the page she’d marked. I knew exactly which scene it was before I read it, but that didn’t stop my heart pounding like a drum and my hands shaking as I read the words.

  KENSINGTON HEIGHTS

  SERIES NINE, EPISODE FOURTEEN

  “FIRST LOVE FOREVER”

  WRITTEN BY: TRUDY SIMMONS

  SCENE THIRTY-TWO

  EXT. GARDEN – MOONLIGHT

  ANGEL stands alone in CASPIAN’S garden having rushed out of the party. She looks up at the moon, tears brimming in her eyes. She is mortified that JULIA has told CASPIAN about her crush on him. She knows that everyone will be laughing at her. CASPIAN enters the garden.

  CASPIAN

  Angel?

  CASPIAN rests his hand on ANGEL’S shoulder, making her jump. ANGEL turns and looks up at him.

  CASPIAN

  Don’t stay out here on your own. Come inside – it’s almost time for the cake.

  ANGEL

  Cake? That’s all you think of me, isn’t it? You think I’m some silly little girl who likes cake!

  ANGEL is struggling to hold back her tears. CASPIAN brushes her hair away from her face and shakes his head.

  CASPIAN

  Look, Julia did tell me what you said to her – about…liking me, I mean. And wishing that it could be me who gives you your first kiss. I don’t know why you told her, you must have known she would tell. She’s probably just jealous. She’s always catty when she’s jealous.

  ANGEL turns away from him and buries her head in her hands.

  ANGEL

  Oh, please! Just leave me alone. I know you hate me, it’s fine! You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me. Just go inside back to Julia!

  CASPIAN holds ANGEL gently by the shoulder and turns her back to face him.

  CASPIAN

  But I don’t hate you! I…well these last few weeks, the way you’ve dealt with being a hostage in that armed robbery and the way you’ve done your hair. It’s made me see you differently. I can see you’re growing up, Angel, into a really beautiful woman.

  ANGEL

  You can?

  CASPIAN

  Yes, I can. The thing is, Angel – well, I’m almost sixteen and you aren’t even fourteen – I just think that now isn’t the right time for you and me. I think we’ve all got a bit of growing up to do first, don’t you? You are an amazing person, but you’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t need to rush something like falling in love.

  ANGEL

  I didn’t rush into it, it just happened. (Pauses.) Caspian? Do you think that one day…maybe…one day…you might…like me too?

  CASPIAN laughs gently and cups ANGEL’S face in his hands.

  CASPIAN

  I like you now, Angel – I always will. And even if I can’t give you more than that now, I don’t see why I can’t make at least one of your wishes come true.

  Close up on pair. ANGEL looks up into CASPIAN’S eyes and he moves to kiss her. She closes her eyes and he gently, softly, tenderly, sweetly kisses her on the lips. He pulls back, her eyes are still closed.

  CASPIAN

  (Smiling at ANGEL, seeing the beautiful woman she will become.) Now, will you come inside and have some cake?

  ANGEL opens her eyes and nods, too happy to speak. CASPIAN goes inside and, after a moment looking up at the stars, ANGEL follows him. She senses that this is the beginning of a new phase in her life. She is walking on air.

  For a second I was walking on air. For one second I could smell the scent of the evening flowers, feel the silver of the moonlight of my skin and the brush of Justin’s warms lips against mine…

  And then I had a panic attack. I have to admit I’d imagined over and over again what Justin’s lips might feel like. Soft (but not too soft) and warm and dry. But what did mine feel like? Maybe my lips were rubbery or maybe my lips were damp and cold and clammy! And did I have to sort of pucker up and purse them? Or just keep them still? Maybe I should even open my lips like they did in my mum’s books…? Panic-stricken I looked at the clock. I’d promised Nydia I would meet her outside Anne-Marie’s at ten a.m. and that I wouldn’t make her wait or go in on her own. But what with Naomi’s letter and the script, I’d lost track of time. I only had fifteen minutes to get there – and it was a bus ride away.

  I leaped out of bed and pulled my jeans off the back of the chair, getting dressed as quickly as possible. I should have had a shower and brushed my hair, but I didn’t have time. I ran downstairs and past the kitchen.

  “I’m just going to meet Nydia and her mum and I’m late, OK? I’ll be back by lunch.” I rushed for the front door, hoping the inevitable wouldn’t happen. Inevitably, it did.

  “Hang on a minute!”

  I stopped in my tracks and looked round at Mum, my hand on the latch. She had washed her face and, although she looked tired, you almost couldn’t tell that she’d been crying. She smiled at me.

  “Where are you going? It’s just that I thought I’d take today off too and that we could both go shopping. We haven’t been for ages, have we? We could get you a few new bits. Nydia could come too if you like and we could all go to lunch.” I star
ed at her and found myself wondering if she would buy me a new phone, the way she was feeling at the moment. And then I felt terrible. Poor Mum thought she was being nice to me – was being really nice to me. She thought that if she took me out then maybe I’d be nice to her, and all I could think about was getting new stuff she’d never normally buy me. But it’s like I said before, I just couldn’t think about the things Mum wanted me to think about right now. I couldn’t say them out loud and I definitely couldn’t think them. I had to get away from all of that stuff, from her crying and from Dad not being in the kitchen ironing his shirt and making his own words up to the songs on Radio 1. My chest felt hollow and empty.

  “I’m sorry, Mum, I can’t today,” I said. “Nydia and I and this other girl from school, we’re rehearsing this play and I need to go…But maybe on my next day off. I’d like that.” I bit my lip and looked at my feet. Somehow I’d made it sound as if I were lying.

  “That’s OK,” Mum was still smiling but I could see that she had to work really hard to keep the corners of her mouth pointing upwards. “It’s just that…well…you’re not bottling everything up are you, darling?”

  I stared hard at the toe of my trainer. Of course I’m bottling everything up, I thought. Why would anybody want to un-bottle what I’m feeling and pour it all over the place making a great big mess? But I didn’t say that out loud, because the last thing I wanted was for her to make me talk about it – or worse, get it into her head that I needed a counsellor, like Jade Caruso’s parents did when she was caught shoplifting in New Look. (It wasn’t the shoplifting that had shocked them, it was the fact that she’d chosen New Look instead of some designer place. At least, that’s what Nydia and I thought.) I’d overheard Jade talking about it once. She said it was the most embarrassing and humiliating moment of her life and that in the end she’d had to cry and pretend to be miserable just so they’d let her out of the house on her own again.