Olivia frowned. Was he just concentrating hard? Or was he nervous? That’s so unlike him. She hesitated, looking at his hunched shoulders. Could he be nervous because of us?
Their afternoon in London had been wonderful, but things had turned awkward again as soon as they’d started filming yesterday. Then again . . . Olivia sighed. They were playing people who were supposed to be in love with each other! For a real-life ex-couple, that was a tense situation to be in. How could they not feel awkward in this situation?
Maybe if she could lighten things up somehow . . .
All of a sudden, as Olivia stared at Jackson’s back, she felt an overwhelming urge to sneak up behind him, cover his eyes and say, ‘Guess who?’
Don’t be ridiculous! she told herself. Why would anyone, in the history of anything, ever think that was a good idea?
She turned away, shaking her head, then stopped. Because really . . .
She’d seen it in so many movies that it was actually kind of traditional, wasn’t it? Especially on a movie set! And even if it wasn’t . . . I have to do something to break this tension between us!
Finally making a decision, she crept up behind him. Her big skirt rustled as she moved, but Jackson was studying his script too intensely to notice, even when she was less than a foot behind him. She stood up on tiptoe to reach out and cover his eyes . . .
Oh no! Her feet were tangled in her tight chemise. Olivia lurched forward, hopelessly off-balance . . . and landed right on Jackson’s back, knocking him to the ground and landing right on top of him. She could feel his body wriggling beneath her and his grunts of protest, but there was nothing she could do to roll off him – not in this ridiculous dress. Loose script-pages fluttered everywhere.
Olivia closed her eyes in anguish. Could that possibly have gone any worse?
The answer was definitely I don’t think so.
Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she finally rolled off Jackson in her enormous hoop-skirt. She sat beside Jackson’s fallen body, her cheeks still flushed and her breath coming in gasps because of the corset.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she wheezed. ‘I didn’t –’
She cut herself off with a gasp as Jackson turned to face her. Oh no.
She’d been wrong. It could have gone worse. It had gone worse. Much worse!
Because it wasn’t Jackson she had tackled, after all. She’d taken a total stranger to the ground!
‘I’m so sorry,’ she repeated faintly. She felt light-headed, and for once, it wasn’t the corset that was to blame.
The stranger’s hair was the same shade of blond as Jackson’s and cut in the same hairstyle. He was the same height as Jackson, and he wore Jackson’s costume . . . but he was definitely not Jackson.
‘I-I-I . . .’ Olivia stammered, scooting backwards. ‘I’m so sorry, but you look just like . . .’
The stranger smiled ruefully. ‘. . . Jackson Caulfield?’ he finished for her.
Olivia swallowed hard. ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘How did you know?’
‘Because I get that a lot.’ The boy’s smile turned into a grin. ‘I’m Will, Jackson’s body double.’
Olivia’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, of course! That explains it. But I didn’t know we were getting body doubles!’
He nodded. ‘You’re Olivia Abbott, aren’t you?’
‘I am,’ Olivia said. ‘It’s nice to meet you.’ She started to reach out for a handshake – then cringed as she suddenly realised that Will was still lying spread-eagled on the ground, where she’d left him. ‘I really am so sorry. I just lost my balance with this crazy dress!’
‘No worries.’ Will took her hand so they could help each other up. ‘It was kind of fun to stop being Jackson’s body double for a while, and be his stunt double!’
Olivia laughed with him as she smoothed down her skirt with her free hand. ‘I promise not to make you perform any more surprise stunts!’
Will grinned, leaning a little closer. ‘I don’t know. This one was kind of fun.’
A flutter of curtain movement caught Olivia’s eye. It was coming from a nearby trailer . . . Jackson’s trailer. And Jackson stood at the window, scowling. Oh no!
She lunged backwards, pulling free of Will’s hand. Jackson just saw me holding hands with another boy and laughing. What will he think?
Then she saw the look on Will’s face. He was staring down at her hand, which she had just yanked away from him with full force.
‘Sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘I didn’t mean to annoy you.’
‘Oh, you didn’t!’ Olivia bit her lip, cringing at her own clumsiness. Will had been so nice about being knocked over in her mistaken joke. The last thing she wanted to do now was make him feel bad.
‘I know I’m not one of the stars,’ he said. ‘If you felt like I was stepping out of line –’
‘No, that’s not it at all!’ Olivia bit back a groan. Why is this all so complicated? She was all too aware of Jackson watching. Everything in her wanted to get away before he leaped to any false conclusions.
But she certainly didn’t want Will to think she found him . . . well, whatever it was he thought! And honestly, only a blind girl would think he was anything but attractive. In fact, being a good double for Jackson meant he was probably the second cutest boy on the whole planet!
His hair flopped forwards in just the right way, he had broad shoulders and a gorgeous spattering of freckles across his nose – plus eyelashes that any girl would die for. She opened her mouth to tell him that . . . then caught herself just in time.
Stop now! she ordered herself, in her best imagined Ivy-voice. Don’t create even more confusion!
She gave another frustrated, side-long look at Jackson’s trailer, and then rolled her eyes at herself. This is ridiculous. Why should I be so embarrassed?
She hadn’t flirted with Will, she’d only been friendly. And even if she had been flirting, Jackson would have had no right to be angry. After all, they were not together.
And I can’t let myself forget that, Olivia told herself. It doesn’t matter how many scenes we shoot together of a couple in love. It’s just acting.
So she hadn’t done anything wrong . . . but that didn’t make her feel any better as she said goodbye to Will and walked to her trailer. It felt as though she was surrounded by an invisible storm cloud of gloom – a storm that she’d brought on.
After what felt like a year later, Olivia was finally out of her costume and lying on the bed in her opulent, lushly carpeted trailer, wearing loose grey sweatpants and a pink-and-white Franklin Grove cheer-squad T-shirt. After her long day in a corset and Victorian hoop-skirt, though, she couldn’t imagine wearing anything more comfortable. If only all those journalists could see me now, she thought. I sure don’t look like a movie star!
When she’d first seen her trailer, she’d wondered why on earth it would include a bed as well as all the other luxuries, like the microwave and the flat-screen TV. Those might make some sense, but a bed? Surely she’d never sleep on the set!
Now, though, she just wanted to curl up in her comfy sweatpants and pretend that none of the last half-hour had happened. As she pulled the sheets over her head, she let out a sigh of relief.
Then she heard a familiar ping! coming from her laptop, which sat on the table by her elaborate kitchen unit. She knew that ping! It signalled an incoming message from the Lonely Echo messaging system on the Vorld Vide Veb, the vampire Internet . . . and there was only one person in the world who would contact her that way.
Ivy!
With a burst of renewed energy, Olivia threw off her covers and ran over to her laptop, waving at her twin. ‘I am so happy to see you!’ she said. ‘How’s high school?’
Ivy looked out of the computer screen with big, anguished violet eyes. ‘Horrible,’ she announced, in an Eeyore-like Voice of Doom. ‘I’m popular.’
‘What?!’ Olivia stared at her sister as she pulled out a chair by the table. Of all the bizarre things that had ever come out
of Ivy’s mouth, this had to be the most unexpected. ‘Is that a joke?’
‘I only wish it was.’ Ivy buried her face in her hands. ‘I need your help.’
Olivia sat down in front of the laptop, her own worries forgotten. ‘Anything you need,’ she said firmly. ‘Just tell me all about it.’
As she watched, Ivy drew a deep breath. ‘The goths,’ Ivy announced, ‘are the in-crowd. There are just so many of them! And . . .’ Ivy’s eyes looked wild. ‘I really need to ask: how did you deal with being popular at school? Because I’ve only been dealing with it for three days, and I already want to nail my coffin shut so I don’t have to face it any more!’
Olivia let out a snort. ‘Me? “Popular”?’ She shook her head as she leaned to grab a fresh strawberry-banana smoothie from her mini-fridge. ‘Have you already forgotten? All of my friends were goths or sci-fi nerds. Remember?’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Ivy’s shoulders slumped. ‘Now that you’re a big Hollywood star, I sometimes forget you weren’t always that way.’
‘Hmmph.’ Olivia rolled her eyes and took a long sip of the sweet, cold smoothie. ‘Speaking of my friends, though . . . how is Camilla?’
‘Oh.’ Ivy winced. ‘I don’t actually know. Sorry! She’s going to Willowton High, and it’s hard to get a word in when we’re riding the bus with Charlotte. But I’ll catch up with her, I promise!’
‘Don’t worry,’ Olivia said, seeing her sister looking as gloomy as the black and dull-crimson hangings of her bedroom. ‘How are the others doing?’ Olivia asked, trying to change the subject.
Ivy let out a groan. ‘I think Sophia’s having some kind of breakdown!’ Olivia’s twin leaned forward, whispering: ‘She’s taken to wearing gingham.’
‘No way.’ Olivia almost dropped her smoothie.
‘It’s true.’ Ivy shook her head. ‘She’s also become permanently attached to her shades and she’s taken up skateboarding . . . or at least, she’s tried.’ Ivy looked pained. ‘It hasn’t gone very well so far.’
‘But what’s going on?’ Olivia asked. ‘Sophia’s always been so fashion-conscious! I’ve never even seen her wear an earring that wasn’t black.’
Ivy picked up a bat-figurine from her desk and scowled down at it. ‘Well, she’s changed now, big-time.’
Olivia stirred her smoothie with its straw, frowning. ‘Could she just be trying really hard to fit in at the new school?’
‘If that’s the case, it isn’t working.’ Ivy grimaced. ‘If anything, she’s drawing bad attention to herself from our school’s Queen Bee, Amelia. I don’t think she can stand any goths acting ungothlike.’
‘Ouch.’ Olivia winced in sympathy. ‘I wish I could help.’
‘I wish you could, too.’ Ivy let out a sigh. ‘I guess I was hoping you’d be able to help me with everything – my popularity problem and Sophia’s weird behaviour.’
Olivia shrugged helplessly. ‘If you think of anything I can do from thousands of miles away . . .’
‘I don’t know. Maybe just scream some sense into everybody, long-distance?’ Ivy gave her a crooked grin. ‘Still, it’s really helped just talking to you about it. But I’d better go now. I’ve got some last minute homework to cram in. There’s a lot more of that in high school!’
‘I’ll bet,’ Olivia said, returning the smile. ‘Good luck with it!’
After Ivy clicked off, Olivia sat for a long moment gazing sightlessly at the computer screen. Her smoothie was still mostly full, but she set it down on the table and tuned her ears to the buzz of activity outside her trailer. Movie-set activity – a world away from queen bees, popularity and homework . . .
Ivy’s life was so different to Olivia’s. It was normal. With this glamorous Hollywood contract, Olivia had signed away all her chances for normal education and even normal teenage drama. Maybe that should have been a relief, but it wasn’t. As much as she loved the excitement of the movie set, part of her wished she was just hanging out in Franklin Grove with regular, normal vampires.
Ha! She couldn’t help smiling at herself as she picked up the smoothie and took a long, cold sip. Her life really had changed beyond recognition! Once upon a time, she would have thought that the whole idea of vampires was totally weird and scary. But now . . .
Her thoughts were cut off by a sudden shout outside her trailer. Choking on her mouthful of smoothie, she set down the cup and ran to her window.
‘No, no, no!’ A woman’s voice roared through the air as Olivia lifted the curtain at her window. ‘Try harder!’
Olivia almost didn’t recognise Jackson with a scowl on his face, storming through the maze of production trucks and trailers. His hands were clenched into fists as he was followed by a short, squat, middle-aged woman. She shouted after him in an exaggerated “Cockney” voice.
‘It’s “a-rand the corner”, not “a-round the corner” . . . You utter, utter plonker!’
Olivia’s mouth dropped open. It was Jackson’s dialect coach, Ingrid . . . who seemed to be the meanest woman in the world!
Before she could think twice, she lunged for the door. Someone needed to stand up for Jackson and tell that woman that she’d gone over the edge! How could anyone think that treating an actor this way would get them to do their best work on set?
In her loose sweatpants and T-shirt, it was easy to move quickly. As soon as Olivia reached Ingrid, she opened her mouth to let loose – but Jackson gave her a light shake of the head, making the message clear: Don’t get in the middle of this.
Olivia stared at him. Didn’t he want to be defended?
Ingrid kept shouting: ‘Apples and pears! A Weaver’s Chair! The Top of Rome!’
Was she insulting him, or setting him really bizarre riddles? Olivia had no clue. But the cruel tone of Ingrid’s voice was clear.
‘Can’t you keep any of them straight, with all the bread you’re getting for this tosh? Use your loaf !’
I may not have any idea what she’s saying, Olivia thought, crossing her arms, but I know that I don’t like her.
Jackson didn’t argue back, though. He only smiled tightly. ‘I’ll work on it, Ingrid,’ he said. ‘I promise. I am taking this seriously. It’s just . . .’ His gaze fell briefly on Olivia. ‘. . . I’ve got a lot on me mind right now. But I am focused.’
The accent was much better there, Olivia thought, aware of the strange fluttering in her chest, when you’re speaking from the heart.
‘Huh.’ Ingrid snorted in obvious disbelief. ‘We’ll see about that tomorrow. Early. We’ll go over your script together before shooting resumes – so that you don’t sound like a total wally on-screen!’
Olivia gritted her teeth and waited for Ingrid to walk away before she walked over to Jackson. In a voice pitched too quietly for anyone else to hear, she asked, ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yah, I’m awight.’ Jackson shrugged, keeping a nasal Cockney twang in his voice. ‘I been yelled at afore, ye know? She’s just been yakking on all afternoon about it. It’s really narking me.’
‘Oh.’ Olivia’s eyes widened. ‘Is that why you looked so grumpy when I saw you in your trailer window just now?’
Grimacing, Jackson nodded. ‘I shouldn’ta got the ’ump like what I did, but . . .’ He dropped the Cockney accent. ‘Wait a minute. Why did you think I was grumpy? What were you worried about?’
‘Oh . . . nothing.’ Olivia smiled, feeling a weight drop off her shoulders.
He hadn’t been angry at her, or at Will. I should have known better. When had Jackson ever been unreasonable?
He was frowning now, though, as he looked down at her. ‘Are you sure?’ he said. ‘You look so relieved –’
‘I’m fine!’ Olivia said. Hastily, she changed the subject. ‘But how can you handle being yelled at so much?’
‘Oh, well.’ Jackson flashed the smile Olivia had seen on movie posters and in dozens of magazines. ‘It’s easier to take when you can barely understand what’s being yelled!’
‘I guess so.’ Olivia wrinkled
her nose. ‘But still –’
‘It’s normal for the movie business.’ Jackson shrugged. ‘You get used to it after a while.’
‘Really?’ Olivia looked around the bustling maze of production trucks and trailers with fresh eyes. ‘Yuck.’ Instinctively, she took another step closer to Jackson. ‘I mean, I’ve read about movie set drama in magazines, but . . . it’s different to see and hear it for myself.’ She shook her head. ‘And I just don’t understand how anyone can accept that kind of meanness as normal. And what kind of person would be that mean in the first place?’
‘Honestly, there aren’t that many bad folks,’ Jackson said. ‘It’s just that everybody’s under so much pressure.’ He leaned closer to her, smiling reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry. The more you work, the more used to it you’ll get. You’ll develop a tough shell to protect yourself, just like the rest of us do.’
Olivia couldn’t stop her expression from twisting into uncertainty. But do I really want that? Do I really want to jump into a world where people are so crazy with stress and worry that they are this mean to each other?
She looked down to hide her expression from Jackson . . . but she was too late. He must have sensed her feelings. She saw his hand start to reach for hers. Time seemed to slow down around them as she held her breath, waiting for their fingers to touch. It was as if they were inside an invisible bubble, separating them from all the bustle and noise of film production. Just her and Jackson, together . . .
Then his hand paused and fell away. Olivia felt a stab of pain in her chest as the bubble popped.
Maybe being on set together wasn’t going to fix everything the way that she had hoped. Maybe their lives weren’t compatible after all. No matter how much she cared about Jackson, could she be sure that taking on the whole Hollywood lifestyle was the right choice for her?
Olivia wanted to shout at the sky. This is so unfair!
Jackson took a step back and drew an audible, deep breath. When he spoke again, his Cockney twang was back in full swing. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but I gotter dive – ’Arker said ’e’d need me on set now.’
13 Double Disaster - My Sister the Vampire Page 7