I tried to smile, but suddenly the thought of going through with this plan seemed more ridiculous than ever. All I could think was that I needed to escape somehow. I needed to get us out of there before Nydia told her the whole story.
“Your house is amazing,” I said, hoping to stall her with some small talk while I thought of a way to escape. “Where are your parents?”
Anne-Marie looked bored. “Dad’s in LA. Again. Mum’s in Milan until next week, and then she’s going to Tokyo. My brother, Chris, is in Ladbroke Grove staying at his girlfriend’s place, as usual.”
I frowned. “So you’re living here in this enormous house on your own?” I asked, not sure if that was really great or really terrible. “Is that even legal at our age?”
“No, idiot. I’m not on my own. Pilar, the housekeeper, lives here too. And the man who does the gardening comes in every day. Chris is supposed to be here, but he never is. It’s no big deal,” she said breezily, her eyes masked by her shades.
“But …aren’t you lonely?” I asked her.
She pushed up her sunglasses and shook her head. For a moment she looked sort of smaller and younger—more like an average thirteen-year-old girl instead of a hard-as-nails vixen. Then she opened her mouth.
“Of course I’m not lonely! I’ve got hundreds of friends, and a boyfriend who’s coming over later. You and sad sack here are the lonely ones. Anyway, I don’t mind. It means I can do what I like.” She sat up and looked directly at me. “It means I can have people like you over with no one having to know about it. Now, stop trying to stall and tell me what it is you want. Otherwise I’ll be so bored you’ll have to leave before I slip into a coma.”
And then I knew it was too late. I wasn’t getting out of this plan.
So we told her. Well, actually, Nydia told her. First Anne-Marie looked horrified, then delighted, and then she just laughed and laughed and laughed until she went pink from her ears down. Either that or she hadn’t put any sunblock on.
“Oh my God!” she shrieked as she reached for her phone. “Just wait until Jade hears about this!”
Nydia reached out her hand in a stopping motion. “Hang on. Remember what we agreed,” she said, sounding quite cross for her, but not cross enough to stop Anne-Marie.
“That was before I knew what you wanted me to do. You want me to teach her how to kiss. Me? You must think I’m crazy. I always thought you two were weird. You’re probably lesbians.” She keyed in Jade’s number and held the phone to her ear. “This is brilliant,” she said as she waited for Jade to pick up.
I looked at Nydia, wide-eyed with panic, waiting for her to come up with one of her plans. She didn’t. She just sat there as if she were frozen solid, even under the heat of the sun.
“OK,” I said, desperately trying to act as if I didn’t care. “OK, fine. I’ll just cancel the meeting I made for you next week with our producer, Liz Hornby, then.”
Anne-Marie’s laugh froze on her face.
“Oh, hi, Jade. Yeah, yeah, I do, but listen, I’ll call you back, OK? Something’s just come up.” She put her phone down. “You’ve already set up a meeting with Liz Hornby?” she said, looking at me.
I am an actress, so, really, I should be very good at lying. After all, everything I do on-screen is basically me trying to convince people I’m someone I’m not. But when it comes to actual lying—off set and in the real world—I’m terrible. I can’t look at the person I’m lying to and my voice goes all silly and small.
“Er, yes,” I said, trying to sound normal. “It’s all been arranged, but it can easily be unarranged. There’s a new part coming up, but …”
Just at that moment, Pilar arrived with two drinks. Nydia and I both took ours and drank them down in one gulp.
“But it’s ridiculous! How can I teach you to kiss?”
Anne-Marie said. “It’s not something you teach. It’s something you sort of just learn.”
I sighed. “I can’t just learn it, Anne-Marie. I haven’t got time to learn it or anyone to learn it with. It’s supposed to be my first kiss, and I want my first kiss to be with Justin. It’s got to be perfect.”
Anne-Marie grinned like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. “You fancy Justin de Souza, don’t you? Justin, the star of the show, the teen hunk! You fancy him and you seriously think that he might like you! You! Poor guy—has he read the script yet? He’ll probably resign when he does and then you won’t have to worry anymore.”
I stood up and looked at Nydia. “This is pointless,” I said. “Let’s just go.” Nydia stood up too, but Anne-Marie waved for her to sit back down . She did with a plonk.
“Hang on,” Anne-Marie said. “Kissing scenes are easy, really. You don’t even have to worry about tongue. You just need to get the mood right; get your nose in the right place and you’ll be fine. And as you’ve so got the hots for Justin, you’ll have no problem. You just need someone to practice on. I’ll arrange it, OK? If you stick to your side of the agreement, that is.”
I looked uncertainly at Nydia. “OK, but when? I’m on the set tomorrow and I got the new scripts today with the kissing scene in them. The read-through will be on Monday and we’ll start shooting it Thursday.”
Anne-Marie thought for a moment.
“Tomorrow evening. Here. No one will be here anyway.”
“OK,” Nydia and I said together.
Nydia picked up her bag. “Listen, Anne-Marie, thanks a lot for doing this …” she began.
“Don’t thank me. You know why I’m doing it. I must be the only girl in the world whose father is a movie producer and won’t pull any strings to get her parts. He says if I want respect in the business, I have to make my own way. Well, I’m making my own way. I’m pulling your strings and that’s all, so don’t start getting all excited and thinking we’ll be friends. We won’t. Ever.” She picked up a magazine from under her chair and opened it. “You can go now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
We walked through the house and down the long drive, back to the real world of traffic fumes and noise.
“Well, that was hideous,” I said. “I’m so sorry I was late.” Nydia scowled at me. “I’m sorry, Nydia! I wouldn’t have been, honest, but Mum wanted to ‘talk’ to me and I couldn’t just go, could I? Not with her and Dad …you know.”
Nydia sighed. “I know,” she said. “But she’s so horrible to me, Ruby. She’s even more horrible to me than she is to you. I just don’t get why; I really don’t. What have I ever done to make her hate me so much? She makes me feel like I’m not even a person. Like I don’t even have feelings that count.”
I put an arm around Nydia’s shoulder and we bump-walked together along the road. “She treats you like that because that’s how she feels about herself,” I said, using a line I’d thought of for one of my problem-letter replies. “Nydia, you’re not only a person, you’re the best person in the whole world. A million times better than Anne-Marie! You’re always there for me. And I know how horrible it was for you sucking up to her today, but you know I’d always do the same for you, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do,” Nydia said. “Although I never get myself into those situations. The worst thing I’ve got myself into was detention for two weeks.” She grinned at me and giggled. “Poor Anne-Marie. It must be so hard being thin and blonde with those big blue eyes and all that money. Poor her.”
“Yes, poor her,” I said. “Poor little Anne-Marie.” Then I remembered what I’d promised her. “She’s going to be really, really angry Anne-Marie pretty soon.”
“What do you mean?” Nydia asked.
“When she finds out I haven’t arranged any meeting with Liz. That never in millions of years could I arrange any meetings for anyone. I’m only a kid! She must think I’m miles more important than I am. That’s really going to hack her off when she finds out.”
Nydia giggled even more, and we both laughed our way to the bus stop until I remembered something else Anne-Marie had said.
“Hang on a
minute. What did she mean when she said she would get someone for me to practice on?”
Chapter Thirteen
So, what are you having then, kiddo?” Dad said.
Kiddo? He had never called me kiddo before in my whole life. I stared at him from around the edge of my menu. He was wearing this stupid bright red shirt and a stupid new leather jacket. There was something else funny going on. I squinted at him and realized he’d put gel in his hair and made it all spiky, even around the bits where you could see the pink of his scalp. If it wasn’t so sad, it’d be funny. I wondered if he’d gotten himself a girlfriend.
“Your hair looks stupid like that,” I said. “I’ll have the marinara. A large one.”
“All to yourself?” Dad attempted to joke. “You’ll burst!”
“Are you saying I’m fat?” I asked without cracking a smile.
“What? No! Ruby, you’re perfect. I’m glad you don’t worry about what you eat. Too many girls do, especially girls in your industry. It’s not worth it.”
I rolled my eyes.
“I know that, Dad. I’m not a total moron.” I looked around the restaurant. It was one of our favorite places; we’d been coming here since I was really little. All the staff knew us, and most of the time the other regulars either didn’t recognize me or simply ignored me. But tonight there was a big family party in the corner who kept looking over at me and nudging one another. I tried not to look at them.
“Hi, Ruby. Hi, Mr. Parker. How’s it going?” Cassie stopped at our table, her pen and order pad poised. “No Mrs. Parker tonight?”
My dad opened his mouth, but I stepped in before he could say anything.
“No, no. Mum’s ill. Got the flu—terrible flu—had to stay in bed, and we can’t cook so we came out to eat. She’s really, really ill. But not so ill that it would be mean to leave her on her own or anything. Just too ill to cook.”
Cassie looked concerned. “Poor Mrs. Parker. I know—I’ll get some tiramisu for you to take away for her. That’ll make her feel better. What do you reckon, Ruby?”
I nodded gratefully. Cassie took our orders and headed back to the kitchen, past the family who kept looking at me. Dad smiled at me. It was a new kind of smile—one he’d only got since he’d left—the sort of smile TV presenters give you when they’re telling you how much they love your work. It was a fake smile.
“Ruby,” he said brightly. “Darling, I know this is hard for you—I realize that—but, well, there’s no point in pretending that it hasn’t happened. People have to know sometime.”
“Why?” I asked him in a low whisper. I nodded in the direction of the family who kept looking at me. “Those people over there, they recognize me from the telly. Do they have to know that my parents are splitting up? How do you think that feels, Dad? Or Cassie, who’s known us since I only ate toast and butter here. Does she have to know? Does she have to know that my life’s been ripped apart by you? I don’t think so. I don’t think anyone has to know.”
Dad rubbed his hand across his chin and thought for a moment, as if he were trying to find a magic spell that would suddenly make everything all right.
“Darling, you mustn’t think that this is happening because of you. I love you. Never forget that.”
I forced myself not to laugh out loud. “You don’t love me enough to stay at home,” I snapped at him. “You don’t love me enough to try to work things out with Mum.” I slammed down my glass. “Do you?”
I could tell he was shocked. Before all this, it had always been him and me. Always us two joking around, teasing Mum or making her cross. Always him I went to when Mum said no. Always him who said yes—until Mum overruled him. He must have thought I’d be on his side in all this. He thought wrong.
“Ruby, you have to see this isn’t about you. It isn’t about how much I love you. It’s about me and your mum being happy. We’re not happy together and things have gone too far now for us to be happy together again. There’s no way we could get back together. Your mum accepts that; she understands it. You have to try, too.”
Just at that moment Cassie arrived and set down our pizzas. “Anyone for parmesan or ground pepper?” she asked us cheerfully.
“No, thanks,” my dad said.
Cassie looked at us both. She must have known that something was up, because normally whenever we went there we made a joke about how much extra cheese I like on my pizza. She must have seen the red blotches blossoming on my cheeks and maybe the tears that were edging their way out of my eyes, because she didn’t say anything more. She didn’t make a joke or ask me about the show; she just turned and went.
I bit my lip hard and took a deep breath.
“Mum might tell you she’s fine, Dad, but she isn’t. She cries all the time. Her eyes are red all the time. She’s only accepted it because you aren’t giving her a choice.”
I picked up my fork and stabbed it angrily into a piece of pizza. Dad shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“Ruby, that’s not true. Your mum and I agreed. And we also agreed that whatever happens we’ll make sure that you don’t—”
“Is it because you’ve got a new girlfriend?” I asked him. It was as if I’d just thought of it, but somehow I’d kept the question hidden even from myself until that moment, when it just came out without me telling it to.
“I …er …well, no, not in the sense you mean.”
It was like I’d been punched in the stomach. I didn’t know what I’d expected, but I hadn’t expected him to admit to it. I hadn’t expected it to be true. I couldn’t believe that Dad could love someone else apart from me and Mum—someone else instead of us.
“You have? You’ve got a girlfriend?” I asked in disbelief. My voice rose above the murmur of the restaurant and the watching family all turned and stared at us.
“No. No!” Dad said quickly. And then, choosing his words carefully, he added, “There is …someone. But she’s a friend and that’s all. Nothing has happened, Ruby. We haven’t even been on a date. We’re just friends. But I do enjoy her company. One day, when things have settled down a bit, maybe then, but we’ll see.”
Until then, I hadn’t really believed he was gone. Until then, I thought he’d come around; that eventually he’d hate how angry and hurt I was, and he’d get lonely and realize he missed us and just come home. But in that moment, I realized he was planning a future in which he was more than Mum’s husband and more than my dad. He was planning a future without either of us in it.
“I want to go home,” I said with a small, tight voice. “But we haven’t …” Dad gestured at my barely touched pizza.
“Please, Dad. I’m tired and I feel sick and I’ve got work in the morning. Please.”
Dad ran his fingers through his stupid spiky hair and suddenly he looked very tired and older than normal. He shrugged and left some money on the table to pay the bill.
“I’m sorry, Ruby. I just can’t seem to get things right at the moment,” he said. “Come on, then.”
I followed him out, keeping my eyes down as we threaded through the tables of other customers.
“Excuse me?” someone called out. My dad kept walking, but I stopped in my tracks. A girl from the corner table had reached her hand out to get my attention. I turned and made myself smile.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but you’re Angel, aren’t you? From Kensington Heights?”
I nodded. “That’s me!” I said as cheerfully as I could.
“We love Kensington Heights, don’t we, Mum?”
The girl’s mother nodded. “Never miss it. Can’t wait for next week!” She winked at her daughter. “It’s Cheryl’s birthday tonight. Well, her actual birthday’s not till Saturday, but her dad’s got her this weekend, so we thought we’d go out tonight.”
“Happy birthday, Cheryl,” I said with some effort.
“Um, do you, would you mind …” Cheryl asked nervously. “Would you give me your autograph, since it’s my birthday? I’m thirteen, like you!”
I smiled, nodded, and signed the piece of paper she handed me, wishing her many happy returns.
“There you go,” I said.
“I love Angel the best,” Cheryl said. “She’s the one you really believe in. All those other characters, they’re just not real. But you—you’re really real.”
“Thanks,” I managed to say. “All the best, then!” I turned on my heel and almost ran outside onto the street where Dad was waiting in his car. I could feel the tears starting to come again.
“Ruby,” Dad said when I got in, “none of this was ever meant to hurt you. None of it.”
I looked at him and wiped my tears away with my hands. “But it does hurt me, Dad,” I told him. “It hurts me more than anything.”
After we got back, Mum and Dad stood for a long time in the hallway, talking in low voices. Before tonight I’d have hoped they were trying to work things out—for my sake. But now I realized that really wasn’t going to happen. However they worked things out, it wouldn’t involve us getting back to the way we were. Dad hadn’t really wanted to talk about his so-called friend, but somehow I knew from the moment he mentioned her, nothing would be the same again.
When Dad had gone, Mum brought me cheese toasties and a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream.
“He is trying,” she said as she sat down next to me on the sofa, tucking her legs up underneath her. I looked at her sideways. I wasn’t sure if I should tell her about what Dad had told me or not. I didn’t want to upset her. But I decided that she would want to know, that she’d hate for me to keep something from her.
“Mum? Did he tell you about his …friend?” I asked uncertainly.
Mum stretched her mouth into a thin, unhappy smile. “I know who she is, yes,” she said. She put an arm around me and sat close to me as I picked at my cheese toasty. “Look, Ruby, it hurts. It hurts a lot to think about your dad being with someone else. I suppose that’s why I’ve been crying so much. But it’s not because I want your dad back. It’s because I’m sad when I think about how happy we were when we started out. I’m sorry we couldn’t keep it that way, but your dad and I don’t make each other happy anymore. I’m not saying we don’t still love each other in a way—just not in the way we used to. He thinks he might find that kind of love with another person. That’s hard to understand, I know, especially when you’ve been so used to things being one way for such a long time. But I do understand it. I’m not the victim in this, Ruby, so don’t make your dad the bad guy just because you need someone to blame. He loves you very, very much.”
Ruby Parker Hits the Small Time Page 8