Ruby Parker Hits the Small Time

by Rowan Coleman

  “Well, I’m not sure,” Danny said. “But to be honest, probably everyone does know. I heard it from the dog trainer.”

  I sighed and started to pack my bag so I’d be ready when Mum came to get me.

  “It’s so embarrassing,” I said. “Everyone knowing that my mum and dad can’t stand each other—that the happy family they thought I had was all a lie. It was only last year that all three of us were in a Radio Times feature about soap kids’ everyday lives.”

  Danny smiled. “Yeah, I saw that. And I know, it’s a total nightmare,” he agreed. I looked at him questioningly. “My mum and dad split last year,” he explained.

  “Just before the school play, actually. They both came to see it on different nights. Mum brought her new boyfriend.” His brows furrowed at the memory.

  “Oh!” Suddenly it all made sense: Danny refusing to speak to anyone last year, suddenly getting all mean and moody, how he stopped having a laugh with the other boys and flirting with all the girls. We all put it down to him being stuck-up and full of himself, but really he’d been hurting and lonely—just like me, except he didn’t have anyone to talk to.

  “I never knew,” I said.

  “No, well, I didn’t want anyone to know, did I? Like you said, it’s embarrassing.” Danny bit his lip for a moment before adding, “If you ever want to talk to someone about it …well, you know.”

  I wasn’t sure I did know, but I nodded anyway.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “Good. Listen, about having lunch with Justin …”

  I rolled my eyes. “What about it,” I said with a sigh.

  “Well, just be careful, OK? You know what he’s like.”

  I stared at Danny. Just when I thought he was actually quite nice, he said something like that about Justin, who was trying to be kind to me.

  “Yes, I do know what he’s like; I know him much better than you do! You’ve only been here for five minutes!”

  Danny’s face fell and he headed for the door.

  “Whatever,” he said over his shoulder.

  Then he slammed the door behind him.

  The Foundry

  Little Frog Lane

  Much Hockton

  Suffolk

  Dear Ruby Parker,

  I’m writing to you to ask you how to become famous. I thought if you can become famous, then anybody can—so that’s why I chose you to ask. I have always wanted to be famous for as long as I can remember. It’s my lifelong dream. (I am now twelve.) I think I would be good at being famous too because I’m outgoing and I like to be the center of attention. I think some people are just special and I’m one of them.

  I can’t sing very well or act much—or dance, but I don’t think it matters. If you really want something, you can make it happen. And there are plenty of pop stars these days who can’t sing, aren’t there?

  Please can you give me some advice? I think you are great on the show—a real inspiration for people like me.

  Lots of love,

  Bonnie Bond

  Ruby Parker

  Dear Bonnie,

  Thank you for your letter. I think it’s great that you are so full of confidence and know exactly what you want in life.

  I was very lucky to get the part in Kensington Heights at such a young age, but it takes a lot of hard work and dedication to keep it! I train very hard at school doing all the normal studying you do, and then all my dancing, acting, and singing lessons on top of that. Then I work very hard on the show during my school holidays. I don’t have too much time to myself !

  My advice to you is to work very hard at school and try to find out what you do have a special talent for. If in a few years you haven’t found anything and you still want to be famous, perhaps you could try being a television presenter.

  Keep watching the show.

  Best wishes,

  I reread the letter that Mum had asked me to sign after we’d had dinner. “But I wouldn’t have written that !” I protested, putting the unsigned letter down on the kitchen table.

  “I know you wouldn’t, which is why I wrote it for you,” Mum said, holding out the pen. “You’ve got a great big pile of letters in your bedroom waiting to be answered and you’re so busy right now that I thought I’d just do a few of the less personal ones for you, that’s all. It gave me something else to think about.”

  It was true; I did have a lot of unanswered letters, including Naomi’s, which was still tucked away inside my pillowcase waiting for me to reply. I looked out the kitchen door and up at the sky. I wondered what Naomi was doing tonight. I wondered how she was feeling.

  “I wouldn’t have even answered Bonnie’s letter,” I said. “Or if I had, I’d have told her where to—”

  “Ruby!” Mum almost laughed. “Just sign the letter, darling, please. Bonnie’s only a little girl with hopes and dreams like everyone else. Everyone should be allowed to have a dream—even if some of them don’t come true. You don’t know how lucky you are sometimes.”

  I signed the letter and looked up at her.

  “I don’t feel lucky, Mum,” I said. Mum leaned over, put her arm around my shoulders, and gave me a hug.

  “I know you don’t, darling, but you are,” she said into my hair. “Your mum and dad love you, you haven’t got to worry about money, where you’re going to sleep, or what you’re going eat. You’ve got a job that millions of little girls like Bonnie would love to do, and you go to a school that most people only dream about. You are very, very lucky, Ruby. Try to remember that, OK?”

  I put my arms around her waist and hugged her too. “I would give all of that up, Mum, just to have Dad living with us again.” I looked up at her as a terrible thought popped into my head. “Maybe …do you think if I hadn’t been in the show and if I’d gone to a normal school and we were just ordinary like everyone else, that maybe you and Dad would still be together? Maybe I took too much out of the family.”

  Mum kissed the top of my head. “That’s not true, Ruby,” she said gently. “It wouldn’t matter what you were doing or where you went to school. None of this is your fault. None of this is about you.”

  I don’t know where it came from, or even what made it happen, but suddenly the sadness I had been feeling turned into cold, hard anger. I pulled away from her hug. “I wish you’d stop saying that!” I yelled. “Of course it’s about me. It’s my life too! You and Dad are the only ones getting to do what you want. It is about me. It is!”

  Mum sat down at the kitchen table and ran her fingers through her hair. “I’m sorry, Ruby. That’s not what I meant. I realize that this affects you too. What I meant was that none of it has happened because of you.”

  “I know that,” I said. “But it is happening to me just as much as it’s happening to you. More so because you don’t even seem to care!”

  My mum bowed her head. “I do care, love …” she began, her voice wobbling.

  “No, no you don’t. All you can say is how it’ll all be fine and work out for the best and that one day I’ll understand. You don’t care at all!”

  “I do care!” my mum shouted very loudly, making me take a step back. She pushed back the kitchen chair with a scrape and stood up. “I do care! I was just trying …trying to be strong for you. For you, Ruby.” Her face had gone all red and she was crying again; tears were streaming down her face. She stretched out her arms to me, but I didn’t move, even though I wanted to.

  “I have to go out,” I said. My voice sounded far away and like cold, hard ice. “I’m going to Anne-Marie’s from school. Nydia’s dad is bringing us back, OK?”

  Mum dropped her arms to her sides and sat back down. “Please, Ruby, don’t be angry with me,” she sobbed.

  “I’m not,” I said stiffly. “I’ll be home by nine. Bye.”

  I felt bad as I shut the door behind me. I felt like going back and telling her I was sorry and I didn’t mean any of it. But I didn’t. I felt so angry, so powerless. I felt like hurting my mum and dad was the only
thing I could do to make them see how much they were hurting me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I’m not kissing him!” I protested, gesturing at Michael Henderson, who was slouched up against the window in Anne-Marie’s bedroom. He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. Yuck. “And, anyway, are you mad? You want me to practice kissing on your boyfriend?”

  Anne-Marie tossed her blonde curls out of her face and gave a short bark of a laugh.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” she scoffed, looking me up and down. “I’m not too worried about the competition.”

  I squirmed and looked to Nydia for some support. She shrugged and looked apologetic. “Well, Anne-Marie does have a point,” she said cautiously. “If you want to be good at kissing, then, you know, you have to practice on someone.”

  Michael gave me his best smile and my stomach fluttered, but only from queasiness. It wasn’t that he was ugly, exactly. It was more that he was too perfect. Like a muscular guy.

  I shook my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you’re agreeing with her!” I gestured at Anne-Marie, who had crossed her skinny arms over her bony chest and was tapping her foot furiously.

  “I’m not agreeing with her exactly …I’m just saying that she does have a point!” Nydia exclaimed, sounding slightly impatient. “Really, Rube, after all the trouble I’ve gone through to get you here, you could try not being so …well, being a bit …It’s just that sometimes you can be …”

  “Be what?” I demanded.

  “A bit of a drama queen, OK?” Nydia finally admitted, looking guilty.

  “Thank you!” Anne-Marie said, clapping her hands together. “Someone is finally making sense.” Nydia couldn’t help looking pleased that Anne-Marie had actually said something halfway nice to her.

  Anne-Marie marched over to where I was standing. “Listen,” she said, putting her face close to mine. “You asked me to help you and I’m helping you. You want to learn how to kiss? Fine. I’ll try to achieve the impossible and teach you how to kiss. But how exactly did you think I was going to do that? Did you think I was going to draw you a picture?”

  I scowled at her, but I had to admit I hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. To be perfectly honest, I didn’t think the picture idea was so bad—especially when Michael Henderson was the alternative.

  “You might have,” I said defensively, looking at her boyfriend with suspicion. He obviously thought he was the best thing ever, but he didn’t even compare to Justin. “Anyway—Michael Henderson? I mean, he’s your boyfriend !”

  I knew that when I had a boyfriend—correction, when Justin was my boyfriend—I wouldn’t be hiring him out to the first girl who needed to learn how to kiss. I’d cherish him and we’d be together—just us, forever.

  “I know that, lamebrain!” Anne-Marie snapped back at me. Then she looked over at Michael as if she wished for a second that he wasn’t her boyfriend after all. “Luckily for you, he loves me enough to help me out when I ask him—even if it does mean he has to get close to you. Anyway, the rules are no touching and no tongue. It’s like a technical take for a lighting rehearsal. Just the moves and the positions. None of the heavy stuff.”

  “Oh, shame!” Michael said with a grin, pretending to be disappointed. Anne-Marie shot him a look so poisonous I was surprised he didn’t drop dead that instant. I examined him with a sideways glance. Like I said, I supposed he was quite nice and everything: tall with wavy hair and friendly brown eyes. I could see why Anne-Marie went out with him and why Menakshi would like to steal him away from her if she could, but he wasn’t my type. He was so into himself. He didn’t seem to have any real personality at all—like he just sprayed it on every morning from a can labeled “future celebrity.” Most importantly, he wasn’t Justin. And, after all, the whole point was that I wanted Justin to be my first kiss—not somebody else’s bullied boyfriend. I don’t think Nydia and I had thought this plan through nearly enough.

  “It’s all right, Rube,” Michael said, winking at me.

  “I don’t mind giving you a snog if it’ll help get you going. I’ve always thought others should benefit from my expertise, and I enjoy a challenge.”

  Anne-Marie glowered at him and he blanched almost completely white. “No one is going to be enjoying anything, understand?” she growled. “Now listen, Ruby, everyone’s first kiss is rubbish anyway. It’s a known fact.”

  “Is it?” asked Nydia glumly. “How disappointing. You wait years and years for something and then it’s rubbish. Typical.”

  “Yeah, is it?” Michael said to Anne-Marie, looking slightly offended. “You never complained at the time.”

  Anne-Marie shuddered like a wet dog shaking itself dry.

  “Ugh, it was dreadful. All dribbly and toothy—totally disgusting!” she told us frankly.

  “Oh, thanks a bunch!” Michael said. He’d stopped looking white with fear and was starting to go bright red with embarrassment. Not such a smooth operator after all.

  “Relax, idiot,” Anne-Marie told him, rolling her eyes. “It wasn’t with you!”

  Nydia giggled and clapped her hand over her mouth. She was loving Anne-Marie talking to her so much that she’d forgotten the real reason we were here.

  “Oh,” Michael said, looking relieved, and then, “Oh!”

  Anne-Marie ignored him. “Anyway, my point is that it’s better to get it out of the way now so when you and Justin have your kiss, it will be perfect.” She smiled at me. “Well, as perfect as it can be when a super hunk has to snog a manky old trout like you,” she finished cheerily.

  “Well, I’d rather be a manky old trout than …than …” I spluttered. It was no good. That witty one-liner simply wouldn’t come out. Anne-Marie laughed in my face.

  “Than what? Than beautiful? Than popular? Than have more than one useless friend? If you’d rather be you, then why are you here at all? Why do you need me?”

  I opened my mouth and shut it again. I was so angry that I thought I was going to ignite with fury. But instead, when I heard myself speak, my voice was low and as cold as ice. I took a step nearer to Anne-Marie.

  “I don’t need you, Anne-Marie. And Nydia doesn’t need you either.” I looked her up and down. “We’re here because we thought you could help me with something I thought was important. But do you know what you’ve made me realize? Nothing is so important that I have to listen to you slag off my best friend.

  Nydia is worth a thousand of you. She is a kind and generous person—a person who’d be your friend even after all the things you’ve said and done to her. She’s a person who’d always be there for you if you needed her, and always listen to you even if most of the time you talked rubbish. But you just throw all that back in her face, time after time. I don’t care if you tell the whole school about this; I don’t care if everyone laughs at me for the rest of my life. I’d rather have Nydia as my friend than be in the same room with you for one second longer. You’re just a nasty, spoiled, arrogant, heartless cow—so mean and spiteful that even your own family doesn’t want to live with you. You don’t know what real friendship is.” I picked up my bag. “Come on, Nydia, we’re going.”

  But Nydia didn’t move. Instead she looked anxiously at Anne-Marie, whose evil-genius face had crumpled a bit. “Come on, Nydia!” I said. She was taking the wind out of my dramatic exit.

  Nydia went over to Anne-Marie. “Are you OK?” she asked her.

  My jaw dropped. “What do you mean is she OK? Come on, let’s go!”

  Nydia shook her head and I looked at Anne-Marie. I could see she was shaking, that her lips were pressed tightly together and her eyes were glittering with tears.

  She was trying not to cry. But she was. I’d made Anne-Marie Chance cry but, strangely, instead of feeling triumphant about it, I felt rather uncomfortable and guilty.

  Nydia put her hand on Anne-Marie’s shoulder. “Ruby didn’t mean any of that stuff she said, you know,” she told Anne-Marie gently.

  “Uh, I did, actually,” I pointed out
, but Nydia ignored me.

  “She did,” Anne-Marie agreed, sniffling. “And she’s right. My parents don’t want to live with me.”

  “I’m sure they do!” Nydia said hastily. “Is that why you’re upset? Because of what Ruby said about your parents? Not all the other stuff?”

  Anne-Marie lifted her chin defiantly. “That’s all true too,” she said, “but I don’t care.”

  “Don’t you?” Nydia asked. “It’s just that it’s hard to understand sometimes why you hate us so much.” Her brows furrowed and she continued softly. “What gives you the right to talk to us the way you do, call us names, make things up about us and get all your friends to ignore us? What have we ever done to you?”

  Anne-Marie rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms. “Go on, tell us,” Nydia said, “because I’d really like to know.”

  Michael took a cautious step closer to Anne-Marie and Nydia. I think he could sense some serious girls’ stuff approaching.

  “So …should I go, then?” he asked awkwardly. “I mean, if you’re going to do all this girly stuff? I’ll just leave, shall I?”

  Anne-Marie turned her face away from him. “Yes, just go, Michael,” she said. “Just go.” He sloped out of her room, winking at me as he left. He wouldn’t win any awards for being a supportive boyfriend, that’s for sure.

  Anne-Marie looked at me and then Nydia. “It’s you two,” she said. “You think you’re so special—better than the rest of us.”

  I nearly fell over with surprise.

  “Pardon?” I asked sarcastically. “I think you’ll find that’s you.” Nydia shot me a look and I shrugged. “Well, it’s true,” I mumbled.

  “No,” Anne-Marie said, looking right at me. “It’s you—especially you—the TV star. You swan around school like you own the place, like you’re better than everybody else because you’ve already made it. And you’re always going on and on about how many fan letters you have to answer each week or what you have to wear to an awards ceremony, and complaining because people stop you in the street and ask for your autograph! Poor little you. Boo hoo.” She sniffed and sat up a little straighter.