Sugar Secrets…& Ambition

by Mel Sparke

  “I could say you’re cutting it a bit fine and have a rant at you, but what about you just put us out of our misery and let us know what’s going on?” Ollie said pointedly.

  “Of course, of course. Lads, I’d like you to meet Derek, the guy you’ve got to impress tonight.”

  Ollie and the boys nodded at the Nick-a-like, who nodded back at them.

  Derek… thought Ollie. I recognise that guy. Just can’t remember where from…

  “Lads, if Derek likes what he hears tonight - and I keep telling him he will - he could have a very sweet offer for you!”

  “Oh, yeah?” said Billy, his eyes (like Joe’s and Andy’s) were wide with excitement. “What’s that then?”

  “I’m looking for a band to do a regular spot at my gaff,” said Derek. “Playing every Thursday night.”

  “That sounds good,” said Billy, with slightly less enthusiasm. Obviously, Derek wasn’t some flashy A&R man from a London record company, about to waft a big, fat contract under their noses. But then, they’d never really expected that he would be.

  Ollie, who’d been staring at Derek, suddenly sat bolt upright.

  “Wait a minute! You’re the bloke that runs the Railway Tavern!”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Derek nodded and smiled, apparently chuffed to be recognised. He was totally unaware of the shoulders sagging around him as the members of The Loud realised that it wasn’t a record deal they were playing for; just a residency at the pub in the station along from the End-of-the-Line café.

  “Hey, lads, it’ll be great experience for you!” Nick tried to jolly them along. “And, of course, if you manage to pull in enough punters, Derek’s willing to pay you £50 a night!”

  Ollie, Joe, Andy and Billy exchanged glances at the mention of money and slowly the grins returned to their faces.

  “I think we can do business, Derek,” beamed Ollie, stretching over to shake the pub landlord’s hand.

  “Oh, Anna, I’m so embarrassed - I’ve made such a fool of myself! “

  “No, you haven’t, Sonja,” Anna tried to soothe her, pushing a mug of tea into her hands. “You tried something and it didn’t work out - that’s all.”

  “But I’ve been boasting on and on about it to all the others. How can I turn round now and say it’s not going to happen; that the agency was so Mickey Mouse that it shared premises with a doggy hairdresser?”

  “Could be worse…” said Anna, with a little smile on her face.

  “How?” Sonja whined.

  “They could have asked you to be in an ad for the doggy hairdresser!”

  Sonja managed an involuntary snigger. “Mmm, think how proud my friends would be if they saw me, pointing and grinning at some puffed-up poodle!”

  Anna was pleased to see that Sonja could laugh at the situation. Her ego had taken a real bashing, so it showed that she had a good spirit to be able to see the funny side.

  Then Sonja’s smile faded and a sadness came across her eyes.

  Anna didn’t need intuition to tell her that something else was also troubling her friend.

  “Cat looks like she’s made some new friends!” said Gabrielle, speaking directly into Matt’s ear, so she could be heard above the music blasting from the stage.

  “Definitely!” agreed Matt, bending down slightly to talk to his girlfriend. “She told me earlier that they’re a couple of Dutch guys who’ve been hanging around at the End. She’s found out that they’re taking a break from a round-the-world trip to stop here for a couple of months with relatives, and brush up on their English. So two for the price of one - that should keep her pretty busy!”

  “Well, speaking of romance,” continued Gabrielle, standing on tiptoe, “Jasmine says she fancies Andy!”

  Matt looked over at the band and saw how Jasmine might be attracted to Andy; with his black, spiky hair and the groovy way he moved as he played, it was no surprise that Gabrielle’s mates, along with quite a few other girls, were clustered round his side of the stage.

  “Didn’t she say she fancied Joe when she came to my party?” asked Matt.

  “Yes, but she says Andy looks cooler.”

  “Well, I think Jasmine should go back to fancying Joe,” Matt laughed.

  “How come?” asked Gabrielle.

  “Didn’t I tell you? Andy’s gay!”

  “Is he?” gasped Gabrielle, her eyes wide with surprise. “What a waste…”

  “I don’t suppose he sees it that way,” grinned Matt. “Listen, Gaby, do you want to come with me to the bar?”

  Matt’s heart was pounding - he wanted to get Gabriel le over to the back of the room where he might be heard a little better. In the light of what had happened at Anna’s, Matt knew he had to get everything off his chest.

  “What’s up?” asked Gabrielle, once they’d pushed their way through the crowd - a crowd that included Natasha and Kerry, looking very matey all of a sudden.

  Matt took a deep breath and let it all out.

  “Gaby, when you first asked me about past girlfriends, I didn’t exactly tell you the whole truth. I didn’t just go out with a couple of girls. I’ve been out with—”

  “Natasha and Cat?” Gabrielle finished the sentence for him, looking him straight in the eye.

  Matt stared stupidly at her.

  “How did you…? The other night at Anna’s; I thought you hadn’t…”

  “Sussed what Sonja was saying?” Gabrielle suggested, again helping him out with his vanishing words. “Yeah, I did; it was pretty obvious, even though Maya tried to cover it up.”

  “I, uh…” Matt mumbled uselessly.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?” she asked, looking at him with her huge brown eyes. Her expression didn’t seem accusing, but Matt felt himself wilt with the guilt.

  “I just didn’t want you to get the wrong impression of me,” he said lamely.

  “But, Matt, why do you think I’d have been bothered about you having a few girlfriends before me?” she gazed up at him, wide-eyed.

  ‘Cause it was more than just a few… he thought, but just shrugged apologetically instead.

  “So, did you ask Cat and your friends to keep it quiet from me, that you’d gone out together?”

  “Yes,” nodded Matt, staring at his feet.

  “How come?”

  “Well, Cat’s just a bit…” Matt struggled to find a tactful word to describe her. He couldn’t, so he just let the sentence peter out.

  A soft, cool hand reached up and stroked his cheek.

  “You’re such an idiot, aren’t you, Matt?” said Gabrielle. “I love you and you love me - that’s all that matters.”

  He looked at her smiling face and felt his heart flip over.

  “Are all fourteen-year-old girls as wise as you?” he smiled back at her.

  “Are all eighteen-year-old boys as stupid as you?” she grinned back.

  Gaby knowing about Cat and Tasha is a real weight off my mind, Matt thought to himself as he hugged her close. I’ll tell her about the others… later.

  “It’s Owen,” said Sonja shyly, aware how sensitive it was to talk to Anna about her own brother.

  “What about him?” asked Anna. Last time he’d visited her, she’d hardly seen him after he’d dropped their mother off at the station. He’d spent the rest of the time with Sonja. The two of them seemed to get on so well together, sharing the same lust for life and the same easygoing, happy-go-lucky attitude too.

  “I just feel so… so disposable, I guess.”

  “Disposable? Like ‘used’?” Anna raised her eyebrows.

  “Oh, no, not like that. He hasn’t taken advantage of me or anything,” Sonja shook her head. “It’s just that me and Owen got on so brilliantly last time he was here and I felt so close to him. And then wham-bam; it’s ‘see you some time!’ He’s off on the train with a quick kiss and I never hear from him. Like I was just some casual flirtation while he was here visiting you…”

  Anna realised straightaway that this
explained a lot of Sonja’s attitude lately. It was as if she was trying to make up for her loss of confidence with Owen by throwing herself into modelling to make herself feel more attractive and wanted again.

  But the irony was, she’d got it all wrong about Owen, as Anna knew only too well from the conversations she’d had with him.

  “Son, have you ever listened to yourself when you’re with Owen?” she began, keen to set Sonja straight.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re always wisecracking with him; teasing him about all the girls he must have running after him in Newcastle.”

  “But I’m only having a laugh!” Sonja protested.

  “And that’s your problem - you’re sending out all these vibes about being independent and see-you-whenever, when what you really want is to tell him you’re crazy about him and sit talking long-distance mushy stuff down the phone with him every night!”

  “But what if he doesn’t feel that way about me?”

  “Sonja, I’m his sister - trust me, I know. The only reason Owen’s been casual about this relationship is because he thinks that’s the way you want it.”

  “Really?” squeaked Sonja in surprise.

  “Really,” said Anna firmly. “And right now, I’m going to go and finish putting on my make-up so we can catch at least the end of The Loud’s show, while you…”

  Sonja took the phone and the address book Anna was shoving into her hands.

  “…are going to call a certain someone in Newcastle. OK?”

  “OK!” grinned Sonja.

  Smiling to herself as she walked towards the bathroom, Anna felt assured that her powers of intuition were right. Sonja and Owen were made for each other, she just knew it.

  Cat walked into the classroom at the college which was doubling up as the combined make-up and costume area for the Drama Department’s Christmas production of Cinderella, and began setting out her overloaded box of cosmetics. As usual, she was the first one there.

  As chief make-up artist for the cast, over the last few weeks she’d been practising on various members, including Cinderella and the Ugly Sisters. Not having had too much experience of theatrical make-up so far on her beauty therapy course, Cat was keen to do a good job and was happy putting in the extra hours after college if it meant she’d get the actors’ individual looks perfect on the night.

  Apart from that, being around actors was what Cat wanted to experience: according to her skewed logic, getting into telly and film work through being a make-up artist was a short-cut to getting into acting. Make contacts, get known - and all without the bother of having to study stuff like Shakespeare and Chekhov for years. Or so Cat reckoned.

  For someone who was desperate to act, being involved back stage with the pantomime was also a chance for Cat to soak up the atmosphere. She usually hung around after her stint was over, listening to the cast read through their lines, wishing she was Cinderella and not Fran Stevens, who in Cat’s opinion had to be the most inappropriate Cinders she’d ever laid eyes on.

  (Since when was Cinderella a six-footer? Cat thought cruelly as she eyed up the gangly Fran one day. She’s going to have to bend her knees under her frock or she’ll tower over Prince Charming…)

  Cat swung round as she heard the door open. She was expecting it to be Fran, so was surprised when she saw that it was Jeff Patterson, the college’s Head of English and Drama, and director of the panto. He had a pile of scripts under one arm, his mobile phone and overstuffed briefcase in the other, and a stressed look on his face.

  “Hi, Jeff,” Cat smiled. “You’re early. I didn’t expect you for another half an hour.”

  He gave her a tense smile in return.

  “Got a lot on my mind, Catrina,” he said gruffly. “I needed to get here early to try and sort this damn mess out.”

  Hauling his briefcase on to a table top, he dumped the huge wodge of scripts down beside it and began rifling through the case.

  “Anything I can help with?” offered Cat. “I’m working on Fran today, but she hasn’t turned up yet so I’m all yours.”

  “You’ll have a long wait,” he sighed, running his hand agitatedly through his shock of grey-flecked hair. “She’s the reason we’re in a mess. She phoned earlier; she’s got glandular fever. She’s out of the show.”

  “You’re kidding!” Cat gasped, although she knew from his face that he most definitely was not joking. “Well, that’s tough luck for Fran, but what’s the problem? Abigail Whatsername can take over. She’s her understudy…”

  “Was her understudy. She chucked the course in a couple of days ago and went back home to Scotland. And call me reckless,” he added with an ironic smile, “but I didn’t think there was the need to have an under-understudy.”

  “So what will you do?” asked Cat, a glint creeping into her eyes.

  “Haven’t a clue. Getting someone else to learn her lines and songs in this short a time is going to take a miracle.”

  Cat gazed at the lecturer as he took off his thick-rimmed glasses and began rubbing his eyes with one hand. She’d come to know him reasonably well over the last few weeks. He was approachable, practical and - at this moment - desperate.

  Do it, she told herself sternly.

  Without any warning, Cat threw her arms out and began belting out a song from the show at the top of her voice.

  Two minutes later, Jeff was still blinking at her in astonishment through spec-free eyes.

  “What was that?” he asked, once his slack-jawed mouth had moved back into action.

  “Some Day My Prince Will Come. Don’t say you didn’t recognise it!” said Cat slightly huffily. Her singing voice (though only normally let loose in the shower) wasn’t all that bad, she was sure.

  “Yes, I know what the song was, Catrina,” he said, still looking at her quizzically. “Maybe what I should have said was ‘why?’”

  “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Erm, no, I’m afraid it isn’t,” Jeff shook his head.

  “What about me?”

  Jeff slipped his glasses back on and narrowed his eyes, taking in the vision that was Cat: bleached blonde hair with streaks on either side of her face that seemed the exact same shade as her burgundy lipstick, a crimson, satiny T-shirt that strained alarmingly across her double D-cup chest and a black suede mini that showed an acre of thigh until her legs met her knee-high platform boots.

  “What about you. Catrina?” the lecturer asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Let me try for the part,” Cat gabbled, finding herself grabbing on to the arm of his grey wool jacket. “Go on, pleeeeeeeease!!”

  “But Catrina - you’re not even on the drama course!” protested Jeff.

  “Yeah, maybe,” shrugged Cat, determined not to be put off. “But I do know all of Cinderella’s lines; I’ve been listening to Fran practise them for weeks. I’ve even helped her go through them!”

  “Cat,” he said gently, “while I admire your confidence, you have to understand that there’s no way I could put you up there on stage in front of a couple of hundred people when you’ve had no acting experience before in your life. Surely you can see that?”

  “Actually, no. I can’t,” Cat said defiantly. “What I can see though is a production that’s going to fail - with a capital F - if you don’t do something drastic. And that something is me.”

  Good speech, she praised herself, then saw from Jeff’s expression that he still wasn’t convinced. She had to think fast.

  “Anyway, you don’t know everything about me. I have had acting experience; I was involved in several plays at school.”

  “Really?” nodded Jeff slowly.

  “Really,” Cat nodded back. OK, so there hadn’t been several plays - only one, and the school happened to be primary. But she had made a brilliant angel in her reception class’s production of the Nativity.

  Jeff looked from Cat to the pile of stapled pages that lay in front of him, then gave a sigh.

  “OK, Catrina - I’
ll give it a shot,” he said, tossing her a script. “Let’s have a read-through now.”

  Cat tried to subdue the grin of triumph that was threatening to break out over her face.

  So, I had to tell a little lie to get his attention, she thought. But isn’t acting all about making stuff up?

  SOME SECRETS ARE JUST TOO GOOD TO KEEP TO YOURSELF!

  Sugar Secrets…

  1 … & Revenge

  2 … & Rivals

  3 … & Lies

  4 … & Freedom

  5 … & Lust

  6 … & Mistakes

  7 … & Choices

  8 … & Ambition

  9 … & Dramas

  10 … & Resolutions

  11 … & Scandal

  12 … & Guilt

  13 … & Luck

  14 … & Love

  ARE YOU A DRAMA QUEEN?

  Cat may not be the subtlest person in the world, but when it comes to what she really, really wants, she’ll take a risk - even though she might end up looking stupid!

  Do you live your life like a soap storyline? Our quiz will help you decide.

  1. What magical thing would you rather have happen to you?

  a) Win £1 million.

  b) Be offered Julia Roberts’ part in her next Hollywood blockbuster.

  2. In arguments, how do you tend to behave?

  a) Fester, huff, then do the silent thing.

  b) Shout, stomp and sometimes blub.

  3. Being in the centre of a room and having all eyes upon you is:

  a) Your worst nightmare come true.

  b) Your dream come true.

  4. How often do you change your look?

  a) Once in a blue moon.

  b) Once a week.

  5. When you go out for the first time after a makeover, you:

  a) Cross your fingers and hope people notice.

  b) Wait impatiently for the compliments.

  6. Do you often change the way you talk or act depending on who you’re with?

  a) No - you try to be the same with everyone.

  b) Yes - isn’t that what everyone does?