How to Get Famous

by Pete Johnson

  'TOBEY, TOBEY.' He didn't say it twice actually, but it seemed to echo through my head. Despite getting the lowest score in a talent show since time began, I was through!

  Bright lights lit up all around me and the audience were yelling and cheering and Stew was pumping my hand. 'Thanks to all the viewers at home who voted for you – you'll be back next week. Hey, well done. Now, have you got anything to say to the people who voted for you?' I replied, 'Just to say that tonight has been the greatest experience I've ever had. And getting all those votes is the best thing to happen to me in my entire life. And I'd like to come and visit every single person who voted for me and thank them personally.'

  'Is that a promise or a threat?' called out Merv from the judges' panel.

  'Oh come on, you've got to admit the boy's done well tonight,' cried Stew. 'Any of our judges care to explain why the British public have voted for Tobey so enthusiastically.'

  'Because he's my little sizzler,' cooed Grace, 'and he's a handsome lad too, with his dark curly hair and cheeky smile.' She gave a mock swoon. 'And I'm so thrilled for you.' She paused to mop her eyes. 'Can't say any more,' she gasped, 'I'm just very happy.'

  More applause from the audience, although Merv looked as if he wanted to say something far less flattering but restrained himself. Then I sprinted off while Stew played David's highlights.

  A few moments later David staggered off. His dad, his face bright red with grief, clamped an arm around him. 'Magic is his whole life,' he announced to no one in particular. 'Why couldn't they see that?'

  Meanwhile, everyone was swarming round congratulating me – and Mum as well, who looked dazed but very pleased. I don't think anyone expected me to still be in, so they couldn't quite erase that look of total disbelief in their eyes. I was totally ecstatic with the result but I kept noticing David and his dad sitting glumly apart from everyone else, like two collapsed bags. I even felt a bit guilty.

  So I went over and said, 'Hello.' They both glared at me. 'Just wanted to say I'm really sorry you're out because I thought your magic tricks were great tonight . . . some of the best I've ever seen.'

  The unfriendliness on David's dad's face hardened. Then he got up and put his still very red face up close up to mine. For a moment I thought he was going to punch me. Instead a light mist of spray hit me as he hissed, 'This show isn't about talent – otherwise my son would still be in . . . but we knew they needed to improve the ratings so they've brought a freak in: every show has to have one now.'

  It's not the very first time I've been called a freak actually. But I've never had an adult describe me as one before. That was a new experience. And I was gaping with shock until David got up too and said in this odd, squeaky voice, 'You won the vote tonight, so congratulations.' I think he was trying to show that at least one member of his family had some sporting spirit. And even his dad was looking a bit sheepish now after his little outburst.

  Then Stew burst over to me, 'I was just saying to your mum, Tobey, I loved the way you answered Merv back tonight – and as for your impression, that was television gold.'

  Well, that can't be bad, can it, being called 'television gold'. And then Stew told me how the phones had been red hot with people voting for me. And I don't think that was because I reminded them of the Elephant Man either. No, they were applauding my talent for entertaining them.

  I am right, aren't I?

  10.15 p.m.

  Mum and I found Dad waiting for us at the door. 'I saw the whole programme,' he said in a low, husky whisper.

  'And didn't Tobey perform superbly?' cried Mum.

  Dad looked a bit shocked by her full-on enthusiasm (I was a little surprised myself). 'Yes,' he croaked, 'he didn't show any nerves, took to all that carry-on quite naturally.' Then he asked in an unusually, quiet voice, 'And is this what you really want, Tobey?'

  'Well, of course it is!' I cried, shocked by the question. 'Fame and glory is what everyone wants . . . well, everyone apart from you, Dad.' I looked at him. 'You think it's all meaningless tripe, don't you?' Then I grinned. 'But you will watch me again next week, won't you?'

  Dad swallowed hard, and then said bravely, 'I wouldn't miss it.'

  Chapter Fifteen

  SATURDAY APRIL 24TH

  I was in the market with the relics this morning. We were strolling past this clothes stall when a boy called out to me, 'Were you on the telly last night?'

  'Without a shadow of a doubt, I was,' I replied eagerly.

  The boy yelled to this woman on the next stall. 'That guy did an impression of a cat being sick on Cloud Nine yesterday.'

  The woman laughed and said, 'Good for you.'

  'I saw you as well,' cried this girl hovering by the woman's stall. 'You'll be on again next week, won't you?' she added, smiling shyly at me. I grinned back in my friendliest fashion, because I'll always have time for my fans.

  'That's right, I will. And thank you for all your support.'

  I gave them a wave (I'm really quite good at waving now), then turned to my mum and dad, who were watching all this in such a shocked fashion. 'I'm afraid you're going to have to get used to this sort of thing happening,' I said kindly.

  SUNDAY APRIL 25TH

  Georgia said something very wise tonight. 'Your win really surprised all those stupid judges on Friday. But they're not important – it's the public who matter. And they just love you.'

  I've already started working on another new rap poem for the next show which I hope my many new fans will also like.

  MONDAY APRIL 26TH

  'Got a stalker yet?' That was the first question which greeted me at school today. The next: 'Did you get any money?'

  'I've been advised not to answer that one,' I replied.

  And then: 'Did you meet any hot babes?' to which I just smiled highly mysteriously. Everyone, it seemed, thought I was 'rubbish, total rubbish', and couldn't believe I wasn't voted out. 'It must have been a fiddle.' But they still wanted to know every little detail of Friday night.

  And when I suddenly cried out – as a joke, 'Ah, here come my two big, old bodyguards,' everyone whirled round, really expecting to see them.

  Miss Lytton told me she'd delayed going out for a meal just to watch me and she really admired my confidence. In the afternoon the headmaster sent for me again (he and I are practically best mates now): the local paper wants to do another interview, this time at school. And all the time the reporter and photographer were there the headmaster kept hovering about.

  Everyone wants a part of my fame, and I'm happy to share it with them all.

  TUESDAY APRIL 27TH

  After school today two girls aged about eight or nine asked me for my autograph. Of course I was prepared for such a moment (been ready for years in fact), and I had my signing pen all ready. One girl asked me to sign the back of her maths book; the other wanted me to plaster a signature right across her bag. I also chatted to the two celebrity-hunters about Cloud Nine. They'd both loved my impression of a cat being sick.

  Then I signed another scrap of paper for a girl who always watches Cloud Nine and would be really sorry to have missed me today but she's got a bad cold. So I wrote: 'Get well soon – if not sooner', on her scrap of paper as well. The girls said she'd be thrilled with that.

  So there you are. I have signed my first three autographs. Strange how the really important events in your life can happen quite unexpectedly.

  WEDNESDAY APRIL 28TH

  Cloud Nine called. They want me to drop the rap poem on Friday and concentrate on my animal impressions. I can repeat the one of the cat being sick and they would also like other ones of a similar gruesome nature. This has come as a bolt from the blue, but I am a professional – and if that's what the nation wants from me, who am I to say no?

  THURSDAY APRIL 29TH

  4.25 p.m.

  Cloud Nine has called again, just to let me know the studio car will be calling for me at 4.00 p.m. tomorrow. Another great moment in my life.

  8.30 p.m.

/>   Been round Georgia's house practising my animal impressions. She liked my new ones: especially the one of a dog when it's tied up and has just spotted a cat. She said it was highly atmospheric. As I was leaving I asked her in an anguished whisper, 'I'm not allowing myself to be turned into a laughing stock, am I?'

  She said, 'No, you're just giving the public what they want.'

  Her reply reassured me greatly.

  FRIDAY APRIL 30TH

  Another dramatic night at Cloud Nine.

  Before I went on I was shivering with nerves. Me just doing animal impressions – how was that going to work? The audience could get bored with me and start shouting, 'Off, Off.' I'm really going to have to slam-dunk my personality tonight.

  But as soon as I got out onto that stage . . . well, I just wanted to stay out there for ever, especially as the audience lapped up every one of my impressions.

  When it was time to go to the judges, Grace beamed at me and cried, 'I don't care what anyone says, when you are on, the place lights up . . . and I love your confidence. Well done, my little sizzler.' But she still only gave me 4/10. Merv gave me 2/10 again and said I should have been voted out last week – and urged everyone to be sure and vote me out tonight.

  Stew said, 'The only way Tobey will get to be in next week's show is with the audience's help at home. Is there anything you would like to say to them, Tobey?'

  'Just if I do go home tonight,' I said, 'this has still been the best experience ever.' I meant every word of that and I really thought I would be off this time. But incredibly, amazingly, once again the public kept me in.

  'They have been voting in their thousands for you,' said Stew to me. 'How do you feel about that?'

  'I feel like the luckiest person in the whole world,' I said.

  SATURDAY MAY 1ST

  Today I returned in triumph to the theatre which had rejected me for The Secret Garden. They had a little ceremony in the afternoon. My mum and dad were there, also Georgia, her mum and Alicia Kay, who actually presented me with this engraved plate with the theatre's name on, and mine, and the presentation date. It's not a plate for eating your dinner off though; it's one you hang on the wall in a place of pride.

  I was a bit choked actually, even though I'd rather have been given the plate for my acting talent (I was awarded it for bravery – ha ha). But still, it was another glowing moment in my life, only spoiled by the fact that poor Georgia had to leave early (she wasn't feeling at all well).

  How do I feel now? I'll tell you exactly. It's as if I've suddenly sprouted these invisible wings of luck and now I'm just soaring along, really high in the sky. And I don't ever want to come down.

  Not ever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  FRIDAY MAY 14TH

  Tonight Merv snapped, with sparks flying out of his eyes, that if I was voted through again he would quit Cloud Nine, because it had stopped being a show about talent.

  He got masses of screen time rubbishing me too. I did get a chance to answer him back though – a whole five seconds. I said, 'Merv, shut your cakehole because I'm making my dream come true here. And no one can impersonate sick cats better than me.'

  And then the longest moment of my life. I've never wanted to hear my name called out so badly.

  AND IT WAS.

  I went charging onto that stage like a mad rhino. And the audience all started chanting my name: 'Tobey! Tobey!'

  Then I saw Merv scowling away and I said, 'If you leave now, Merv, you can catch the last bus home.' The audience went wild then. And even my mum was hopping about with joy.

  So now I'm in the final. And if I win next week, well my life couldn't be any more perfect.

  FRIDAY MAY 21ST

  THE FINAL.

  Here's the result. I was very nearly the winner. I came second out of two.

  Actually, I didn't expect to win tonight, especially after they'd interviewed all Celia's relations, including her ninetyfour- year-old great-grandmother, saying all she lived for now was to see Celia get her chance: as Georgia said to me afterwards, 'How could Celia not win after that?'

  Still, I got a very good cheer and Stew said I'd been on 'an amazing journey'.

  'But here's where it ends,' cut in Merv (yes, the gobby geek was back). He said I'd 'had a good run but finally talent had won out'. Merv had such a gruesome smirk on his face when he said this too.

  Still, I congratulated Celia on camera and off camera too. Actually, I think she will do really well. And I like her. But I can't tell you how crushed with disappointment I was.

  To get that close to winning – to smell victory – and then . . . I'd have made such a good celebrity as well.

  Later at home, Mum and Dad told me that in the end it's the person – not their achievements – that matter and I had been an excellent loser tonight. Georgia and I chatted for ages too and she said I must keep the dream alive.

  But for now – it's back to my old freaking life.

  SATURDAY MAY 22ND

  I was eating spaghetti on toast in the kitchen when my life changed once more.

  Dad was talking on the phone to someone in a really astonished voice, and then he stomped into the kitchen, shaking his head in complete bewilderment.

  For one wild moment I thought he was going to announce there'd been a recount at Cloud Nine and I'd won after all. But no, he didn't say that. Instead he announced, 'They want Tobey in some advertisements for cat food.'

  Mum and I were just gaping at him. But it's completely true. An advertising agency wants me to do my now really quite famous impression of a cat being sick, while tasting all the normal 'very inferior' cat products. Then I will cry, 'But yo, listen,' and impersonate a deeply happy cat savouring every morsel of a brand new cat food called Feline Favourites.

  And they're going to pay me money to do this. Dad won't tell me how much. But he whispered the sum to Mum and she went bright red with shock.

  'Now, I want you to think carefully before you agree to do this,' began Dad.

  'All right, I will,' I interrupted. I paused for a whole millionth of a second. 'OK, I've thought about it. And of course I'll do it.' Then I added, 'And Dad, you're just going to have to get used to having a star about the place.'

  Mum laughed – and even Dad smiled faintly.

  Then I called Georgia. She was so astonished she could hardly speak.

  WEDNESDAY MAY 26TH

  Tonight, Mark from the advertising agency came to my house to meet me and the relics. And I was remembering how badly Dad had behaved when Sue from Fighting Families had called. Well, he was much improved tonight – hardly embarrassing at all, in fact. I really think Dad's been on a bit of an amazing journey these past weeks too.

  THURSDAY MAY 27TH

  A teen magazine called Hi wants to do an interview with me. It's for a regular feature they run called: 'Me and My Best Friend.' And on Saturday they will come and chat not only with me – but Georgia too. I was chuffed about that because this could give Georgia a lift up the celebrity ladder too.

  So I rang her, dead excited. And yeah, I think she was pleased.

  SATURDAY MAY 29TH

  10.30 a.m.

  Georgia and I are sitting in McDonald's waiting for Hi magazine. A photographer as well as an interviewer will be coming along. So it's an exciting event. And yet she looked as excited as a bag of frozen peas.

  I decided that she must be nervous, so I gabbled away, 'You're shy now, but once the interviewer starts you'll have the time of your life talking about me. What could be more fun than that? And don't say "Anything".'

  She still looked far away though. It must be nerves.

  Still, I'm sure she'll be fine.

  10.50 a.m.

  No, she won't – because she's gone.

  Some people on another table had recognized me. I was telling them about my new career doing cat food adverts when I happened to glance back . . .

  I thought at first Georgia had just gone to the loo, but then I saw she'd left me a little note p
laced right on top of the menu. It said:

  Tobey,

  I'M REALLY SORRY BUT I CAN'T GO THROUGH WITH THIS. Georgia.

  Chapter Seventeen

  SATURDAY MAY 29TH

  2.30 p.m.

  What a total nightmare these past hours have been!

  After I got that note from Georgia I tore out of McDonald's looking everywhere for her. But she'd vanished.

  I rushed back to find Hi magazine waiting for me. I mumbled something about Georgia being taken ill, but I wasn't very convincing (I was too worked up) and I don't think Hi magazine believed me for an instant.

  And they were pretty mad actually. They said, in clipped tones, they'd ring me later to discuss the feature. After which I raced about searching for Georgia again.

  I finally tracked her down at her house. She opened the door and then looked away from me and said wearily, 'You'd better come in . . . my mum's just gone out, but I didn't go with her as I thought you might call round about now.'

  We went into the kitchen. I waited for her to at least apologize. But she didn't, just seemed to be very busy filling up the kettle. I cried out, 'That's the last time I do anything for you.'

  She whirled round. 'Oh, you're so kind letting me go along as your fan, your little side-kick.'

  I tried to laugh, but only an odd croak came out.

  'Well, maybe I don't want the crumbs off your plate,' she practically shouted.

  'Now you're just being stupid.'

  'Am I really?'

  'Of course you are.' I gave another croaky little laugh. 'You sound all twisted and jealous.'

  Then she said quietly, 'No, I'm just very angry.'

  'About what?'

  'About the fact,' she went on in the same low, whispery voice, 'that I was the one who played Mary Lennox in The Secret Garden – you weren't even in the play. No, you just opened a door. But Tobey, why did you have to do that on what you yourself said was the greatest night of my life?'

  'Hey, I didn't do it deliberately. I didn't even realize I was stopping a burglary.' 'I know!' she cried. 'But now good things are flooding in for you while nothing at all is happening for me. Not one single call.'