Bright Lights

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Bright Lights Page 5

by Linda Chapman


  Jessica took a heavy cardboard box off the dresser. She carried it over and plonked it down in front of Mum. ‘Ta-da!’

  ‘What's this?’ Mum asked.

  ‘Purr-fect for Pets brochures!’ Jessica said. ‘Dad collected them this morning.’ She opened the top and took out a glossy folded brochure. ‘Don't they look brilliant?’

  I hurried over. They did look good. On the front cover was a big purple title saying ‘Purr-fect for Pets' and four small photographs of Wilson, Baxter, Milly the rabbit and Pickles the guinea pig.

  ‘I could drop them in at people's houses when I do my paper round this evening,’ Jessica offered as Mum picked one up.

  Mum nodded. ‘That would be great. Thanks, Jess.’ She stared at the brochure in her hand. ‘It looks so official. So real.’

  ‘It is real,’ I said, hugging her. ‘You've got your own business, Mum!’

  Mum smiled. ‘Now all I need is some clients.’

  Brrring brrring… brrring brrring…

  I blinked my eyes open. The phone was ringing. I looked at my bedside clock. It was only 8.15. Practically the middle of the night.

  Brrring brrring… brrring brrring…

  I turned over and buried my face in the pillow. There was no way I was getting up. I wondered why Dad didn't answer it. Unlike the rest of us, he was happy first thing in the morning and was usually up and about by 7.30. Maybe he'd gone out on his bike.

  Brrring brrring…

  Go away! I thought, and then suddenly I sat bolt upright as the events of the day before flooded back to me. The phone! Maybe it was the film company!

  I leapt out of bed, half falling as the duvet cover tangled around my feet. Scrambling for the door, I raced down the stairs and grabbed the phone from the table in the hall.

  ‘Hello, who is it please?’ I gasped, my heart pounding.

  A woman spoke. ‘Hello, my name's Mrs Lorrimer. I'm ringing about pet-sitting.’

  The breath left me in a rush of disappointment. ‘I'll… I'll just get my mum,’ I said.

  Mum was already coming down the stairs in her dressing gown. I handed her the phone. ‘It's about pets,’ I said.

  Leaving Mum to talk to the woman, I went through to the kitchen. As soon as I opened the door, Baxter and Wilson trotted over, their tails wagging and their mouths open in big doggy grins as they pushed themselves against my legs.

  ‘Hi there,’ I said, scratching their ears.

  I opened the door to let them out. Dad's bike and cycle helmet had gone. It looked like my guess had been right. He was out getting some exercise. Totally mad!

  I poured myself a glass of orange juice and sat down. Should I go back to bed? No, I decided. The shock of thinking the phone call might be from Laurence or Sheila had left me well and truly awake. Baxter trotted in and laid his head on my knee and looked up at me with big hopeful eyes.

  I kissed his head. ‘You want to go for a walk?

  Baxter jumped up and pricked his ears in excitement. Hearing the magic word ‘walk’, Wilson raced in from outside, his tail wagging madly.

  Draining my orange juice, I went upstairs and pulled on some clothes. The dogs were waiting eagerly by the back door. I was just fixing on their leads when Mum replaced the receiver.

  ‘Well, I think I might have just spoken to my first customer,’ she said, looking pleased. ‘Mrs Lorrimer – the lady on the phone – has got a dog she wants looking after. She's going to come round later this morning to meet me.’

  ‘That's brilliant,’ I said.

  Mum looked round at the kitchen. The floor was scattered with dog toys and a chewed-up newspaper that Wilson or Baxter had demolished in the night. ‘I think I'd better start tidying up,’ she said with a sigh. ‘Are you taking the dogs out?’

  I nodded.

  ‘What about breakfast?’

  ‘I'll have some when I get back.’

  I headed out. Curtains were still drawn across windows and the roads, which were usually full of cars at this time of day in the week, were quiet. Wilson and Baxter trotted along beside me as we headed for the recreation ground. It all seemed so normal. It made the day before feel like a dream. Had I really spent yesterday morning at a film studio doing a screen test? I thought about the film. If I was Becky, I'd get to spend all summer acting. I'd meet famous people and I'd probably be on TV and in magazines.

  Oh, please, I prayed, crossing my fingers so hard that it hurt. Let me get the part.

  ‘Has anyone phoned?’ I asked as soon as I got home.

  Mum was mopping the floor, so I left the dogs out-side.

  ‘I've had another call about Purr-fect for Pets,’ she said. ‘There's a lady with twelve rabbits she wants me to look after next weekend.’

  ‘Twelve rabbits. Wow, that's great,’ I said, trying to sound enthusiastic to hide my disappointment that there had been no phone calls from the film company.

  Mum looked up and I could tell I hadn't fooled her. ‘You know you probably won't hear anything about the film today, Sophie – Sheila did say a few days.’

  So much for disguising my thoughts! ‘I know,’ I sighed. I started helping her set up for breakfast. ‘I just hate all this waiting. Why can't they let me know?’

  ‘They're not going to make a snap decision over something so important,’ Mum said. She looked at me with a worried expression on her face. ‘You're not going to be too upset if you don't get it, are you? Remember, the others trying out will have lots more experience than you.’

  I didn't say anything.

  ‘You'll be in the film, that's the most important thing,’ Mum said.

  But it wasn't. I wanted to be Becky. I wanted to be the one people knew and recognized. I poured some Frosties and milk into a bowl. But I didn't feel like eating. I swirled the orange flakes around with my spoon.

  Jessica came downstairs in her pyjamas. ‘Any Purr-fect for Pets phone calls?’ she asked Mum.

  ‘Two,’ Mum said, and started talking about her prospective clients with the dog and the rabbits.

  Just then Dad arrived back from his bike ride. ‘Morning, all!’ he said cheerily. He put the Sunday papers down on the table and sighed happily. ‘Breakfast! Excellent! I feel like bacon.’

  In next to no time, he had the packet of bacon out of the fridge and the grill on. ‘Bacon butties all round?’ he asked, laying rashers of bacon under the grill.

  We all nodded and soon the delicious smell of grilling bacon was wafting through the house. It even brought Tom down from his bedroom – a miracle, seeing as he doesn't normally come out of his room until at least 11 o'clock at weekends.

  ‘Bacon! Can I have some?’ he asked, yawning as he staggered into the kitchen in his boxer shorts and dressing gown.

  It was then that the phone started to ring.

  ‘I'll get it,’ Mum said. ‘It might be another call for Purr-fect for Pets.’ She picked up the phone. ‘Annie Tennison speaking.’

  I watched her face. Who was it this time – a person with a dog, a cat, maybe a pony?

  ‘Oh, yes, hello,’ Mum said, her tone changing suddenly. I could tell that she knew the person on the other end of the line. She glanced swiftly at me. ‘Yes, she's here. I'll just get her.’ She held out the phone, her hand covering the mouthpiece. ‘Sophie, it's for you. It's Sheila Blake.’

  Chapter Seven

  I stared at Mum. This was it: the phone call I'd been waiting for! I was about to run and grab the phone when suddenly I froze. What if I hadn't got the part?

  ‘Sophie!’ Mum said, holding out the phone.

  ‘Go on,’ Jess urged.

  Feeling sick, I walked slowly over to Mum. My fingers curled round the receiver. ‘H… hello.’

  ‘Sophie, hi. It's Sheila.’ The casting director's deep rich voice filled my ear. ‘I've got some news for you.’

  My chest felt tight. ‘Yes,’ I whispered.

  ‘Well, we're not offering you the part of Becky…’

  The breath left me in a rush. I hadn't
got the part. Tears prickled in my eyes. I had never felt so disappointed in my entire life.

  ‘But,’ Sheila continued, ‘we would like to offer you the part of Sara.’

  There was a pause.

  I blinked. What had Sheila just said?

  ‘Sophie?’

  ‘P… pardon?’ I stammered.

  ‘We'd like you to play Sara,’ Sheila repeated.

  ‘But… but I didn't audition for Sara,’ I said stupidly. She couldn't mean it. It was some sort of mistake.

  ‘I know you didn't,’ Sheila said. ‘We've only been auditioning young actresses with previous experience for the role. But that last scene you did as Sara at your screen test yesterday just blew everyone away. You're very talented. You managed to get exactly the mix of wistfulness, dignity and courage that we've been looking for. We all agreed you're perfect for the role, so the part's yours – if you want it.’

  Want it! My brain kicked into gear. ‘I do!’ I gasped.

  ‘Great,’ Sheila replied, and I could hear the smile in her voice. ‘Well, can you put your mum back on the phone. We've got quite a lot to sort out.’

  I looked round and realized that my family were all staring at me, their faces showing a mixture of tension, concern and hope.

  ‘Well?’ Jessica demanded. ‘What's happening? Did you get the part?

  ‘I… I'm going to be Sara,’ I said, grinning. My voice rose. ‘It's the main part!’

  ‘What?’ Jessica gasped.

  I held out the receiver to Mum. ‘Sheila wants to talk to you.’

  Looking stunned, Mum took the phone. ‘Hello,’ she said, and, giving me an astonished look, she carried the receiver through to the next room.

  ‘You're the main part?’ Dad said.

  ‘Yes.’ As I spoke, I realized it was true. I grabbed his hands and jumped up and down. ‘I'm going to be Sara!’ I cried. ‘I'm going to be Sara!’

  ‘You'll be famous,’ Jessica said in astonishment.

  ‘This is totally weird,’ Tom said. He shook his head. ‘But, you know, like, well done, Soph.’

  ‘Thanks!’ I said, racing over and hugging him.

  Tom looked very surprised. We never hug normally. But I was so excited I'd have hugged a gorilla if it had been standing in the kitchen – come to think of it, maybe there isn't much difference!

  ‘I just can't believe it!’ I exclaimed, breaking free and twirling over to hug Jessica. I was going to be Sara! What could be cooler or better than that!

  Mum came back through to the kitchen. She looked totally stunned.

  ‘Is it true?’ Dad said.

  ‘Of course it's true!’ I said.

  Mum nodded. ‘Bill Armstrong, the producer, is going to drive up to see us on Wednesday afternoon. He'll bring the contracts, script and information about filming.’ She looked at me. ‘Sheila said Sophie was very talented.’

  ‘She told me that too,’ I said, feeling a wave of pride.

  ‘And did she say what a very big head you have?’ Jessica teased.

  I picked up a Frostie from the table and threw it at her.

  ‘Missed!’ she cried, grinning as she ducked.

  ‘I can't believe it,’ Mum said, hurrying over and hugging me. ‘You've done so well, Sophie. My little girl in a film! My baby!’

  ‘Mum!’ I protested, wriggling away.

  Just then the phone rang.

  Tom got it. ‘Mum, it's for you,’ he said. ‘Purr-fect for Pets.’

  ‘Another call!’ Mum said. She smiled at me. ‘Looks like both our dreams are coming true.’

  I went straight round to Harriet's. Ally was there and they were about to go riding. When I told them my news they both squealed with excitement and hugged me – I didn't think I'd ever had so many hugs in one day!

  ‘So, will you have loads of lines to learn?’ Ally said.

  ‘Loads.’ I nodded. ‘The producer's bringing the script round on Wednesday.’

  ‘The producer! That sounds really weird,’ Ally said.

  Harriet's forehead creased. ‘You'll still be friends with us, won't you?’

  ‘Definitely not,’ I teased. ‘I'll only associate with other famous people.’

  Ally swung her riding hat at me.

  I grinned and dodged. ‘You just won't be cool enough for me!’ I said, and then I had to turn and run as both Ally and Harriet chased after me, swinging their hats.

  ‘Truce! Truce!’ I begged as they cornered me by the gate.

  They gave in.

  ‘I guess we'd better not injure a film star,’ Ally said. She smiled. ‘This really is so cool, Soph.’

  ‘Yeah! Just wait till you tell everyone at school!’ Harriet grinned.

  Monday was brilliant. I told Miss Carter about getting the part and she told everyone else. Most people seemed really pleased for me. Justine, of course, wasn't.

  ‘Why you?’ she said, confronting me in the playground at break time. ‘I mean, it's not like you're anything special.’

  I wanted to say, ‘Because I can act,’ but I ignored her and walked past.

  ‘I see. We're not good enough to talk to now, are we?’ Justine called after me. ‘You're such a snob, Sophie Tennison!’

  ‘I am not!’ I said, swinging round.

  ‘You are so. Always thinking you're better than everyone else.’

  ‘I don't think that,’ I protested.

  ‘How much are you going to get paid?’ Saskia, Justine's friend, asked.

  ‘I'm not telling,’ I replied.

  In fact, Dad had said that although I could have a hundred pounds to spend, the rest was to be put away into a savings account for when I was older.

  ‘Go on. Tell us,’ Saskia said.

  ‘No. Mind your own business.’ I walked off. Why did they have to be so horrid?

  ‘Snob!’ Justine called after me.

  ‘Idiot!’ Ally muttered as she and Harriet caught up with me.

  ‘She's just jealous,’ Harriet said, taking my arm. ‘Come on. Take no notice. Let's go and sit on the wall.’

  Over the next few days, the phone seemed to be constantly ringing with relatives and friends wanting to congratulate me. Mum must have told the whole world! On Tuesday afternoon a journalist from the local paper came to interview me about how it felt to get the part and then on Wednesday the film's producer, Bill Armstrong, drove up from London. Dad had come home from work early to meet him.

  Bill was in his fifties, with short greying hair. Wearing cream trousers and a blue shirt, he looked disappointingly normal. I'd imagined that a film producer would be very cool and fashionable, not like someone from Dad's accountancy office.

  We went to the dining room and, while Bill talked about the contract with Mum and Dad, I flicked through a copy of the script he'd given me. I was in almost every scene. I was going to have loads of lines to learn! My stomach flipped over. What if I got things wrong?

  Bill gave Mum an application form for a performing licence to fill in.

  ‘All children have to have a licence from their local education authority if they are going to work professionally,’ he explained. ‘If you can fill in the details now, I'll send it off this week.’

  He looked through his papers and handed me a typed sheet.

  ‘This is the basic shooting schedule, Sophie. It gives you a rough idea of when and where scenes will be filmed. You'll see we don't film them in order,’ he said as I looked at the schedule and saw that on the first day scenes twelve, fifteen and twenty-six were being shot. ‘We try and film all the scenes that take place on the same set at the same time. It saves money because we don't have to keep rebuilding the set.’

  ‘Where will the filming take place?’ Dad asked.

  ‘We start with five weeks at Stanton Hall. It's a boarding school about twenty minutes away from here. By the time we start filming, the school will have broken up. After that there's a week's filming in Lincolnshire, followed by four weeks at a film-studio complex near Birmingham. Sophie shouldn't b
e needed for all four of those weeks. We are aiming to film all the scenes with children in during the summer holidays if we possibly can,’ he told Mum and Dad. ‘Now,’ he went on, ‘we need to talk about chaperons. All children on a film set have to be chaperoned by an adult. Parents can be chaperons, but in general we prefer to employ professionals. The chaperons we use are all very experienced and understand about the demands of filming. However, it's up to you. If you prefer, you can chaperon Sophie yourselves.’

  ‘I don't think we'd able to,’ Dad said. ‘My wife's just starting a new business and I work full-time.’ He looked at me. ‘Would you be happy to be looked after by one of the company's chaperons, Sophie?’

  ‘I guess,’ I said rather nervously.

  Bill smiled at me. ‘Don't worry. You'll like them. By the end of the filming they'll be like an extra mum to you.’ He looked at Mum and Dad. ‘But maybe one of you could act as Sophie's chaperon for the script read-through and possibly the first day's rehearsal,’ he suggested. ‘Just while Sophie gets to know everyone. After that I'm sure she'll feel very much at home.’

  Mum nodded. ‘That makes sense.’

  At last everything was agreed.

  Dad saw Bill to his car. Jessica and Dan were sitting in the kitchen.

  ‘So that was the film's producer?’ Jessica said.

  I nodded.

  ‘He looked really normal,’ Jessica said, sounding disappointed.

  ‘He was normal,’ I said, sitting down at the table. ‘Just like Dad.’

  ‘I can't believe you're going to be in a film,’ Dan said, looking at me strangely. ‘I mean, you're you, Sophie. And you're going to be a film star!’

  I grinned. ‘I know. Isn't it brilliant!’

  Dan stood up. ‘Well, I'd better go. I'm supposed to be seeing my gran tonight. I'll see you tomorrow,’ he said to Jessica. ‘Shall we go to Matt's? He's getting some videos in.’

  I saw Jessica frown slightly. ‘Again. Can't we do something else?’

  ‘Like what?’ Dan said. ‘I'm broke.’

  ‘Me too,’ Jessica admitted. She sighed. ‘OK, I guess Matt's it is, then.’

  They kissed quickly and Dan left. Jessica sat down at the table. She looked fed up.

  ‘What's the matter?’ I asked.

 

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