by Pete Johnson
'But you can't blame me for that.' I looked at her. 'Or maybe you do.'
Her voice rose. 'Yes, I do actually.'
'So no one's ringing you because I caught two robbers on your opening night?'
Exactly right,' she cried. 'You stole my night of triumph from me.'
I could feel this heat coming off me now. How crazy and mean blaming me. 'Well, maybe no one's rung because you're nowhere near as good at acting as you think you are.'
The very instant I'd said it, I wanted to snatch those words back.
But Georgia was already running from the kitchen to her front door. She flung it open and said in a quick, low voice, 'Just get out – I don't ever want to see you again.'
Anger surged up in me again and as I left I shouted, 'Just to remind you, if it hadn't been for me you wouldn't even have known about The Secret Garden auditions. And I think you're beyond ungrateful. You're—' But the door had already slammed behind me, so without another word I left.
SUNDAY MAY 30TH
I'm nowhere near as angry with Georgia now. In fact, I'm not angry at all really.
You see, I've been remembering how I felt after Georgia's triumphant dress rehearsal of The Secret Garden – pleased, but oh so depressed. Somehow, her success seemed to magnify my own roaring failure. And then this grey gloom – like a heavy fog – landed on me, totally blotting out everything else.
My fame hasn't really made Georgia jealous – just very, very miserable. And any friend would feel exactly the same.
MONDAY MAY 31ST
Georgia just rang. She said she wanted to apologize for what she'd said to me earlier.
'You spouted some claptrap – and so did I – it's best all's forgotten,' I said.
She agreed at once.
But it wasn't. Not really. And she and I spoke so politely to each other, it made my heart ache. I could have been chatting to one of my aunties.
I'm even more depressed now than when we had that row.
I just want to make everyone happy – and make myself happy too. That's all. So why is that so hard?
TUESDAY JUNE 1ST
It's Georgia's birthday next week (Thursday 10th). And I've decided I'm going to do something very special for her. And I want to give Georgia a gift which she'd really, really like.
WEDNESDAY JUNE 2ND
My advertising agency (there's three words I never thought I'd write) has called. They want to start filming my advert at their London Studios a week on Friday, starting at 9 a.m. This means Mum and I will be staying in a super, posh hotel on Thursday night. Normally I'd be so thrilled but it means I'll be away on the night of Georgia's birthday . . .
Fear not though, because inspiration has struck. Suddenly I know how to give Georgia the best birthday present ever.
Chapter Eighteen
THURSDAY JUNE 10TH
6.45 p.m.
Georgia never suspected a thing. There she was in London this evening with her mum, thinking she's going to watch another film premiere from behind the barricades. Then up I popped.
'Happy birthday and all that rhubarb,' I said. 'I have a gift for you. So will you please follow me?'
'What is it?' she asked, looking astonished.
'All will be revealed shortly,' I said, leading her up to the entrance of the cinema. 'By the way, this groupie keeps following me around. She even claims to be my mum.'
And then my mum bobbed up. There was a woman with her. 'Oh yes, this is Laura from my advertising agency, well not my advertising agency, but you know what I mean,' I said, 'and she's looking after Mum and me while we're in London. Now I never keep any tickets about my person. Mega-stars can't be bothered with such trivialities. But Laura has some you just might be interested in.'
And then Laura held up two large tickets for tonight's premiere, while grinning away. 'These are for you and your mother,' she said.
Georgia looked at them and then made a strange, gulping noise like a highly emotional goldfish. 'You're not going to faint, are you?' I asked.
'I might,' she cried. 'This is certainly a dream, isn't it?' Then she turned to her mum. 'Did you know about this?'
Her mum grinned. 'I'm afraid so: been plotting it for days, in fact.'
At the entrance to the Odeon a rather snooty guy examined our premiere tickets, and then he smiled thinly and let us go in. 'Thank you so much, my man,' I said. 'My butler will be along with your tip later.'
Then I whispered to Georgia: 'Let's take the next part really slowly.' And we did. We strolled up that deep, red carpet, just as if we'd been doing it for years. Then we turned and waved at the excited crowd behind the barricades.
'I think I heard someone call out your name,' gasped Georgia.
'You probably did,' I said casually. Then I gave another madly friendly wave before turning to go inside.
Colour flamed into Georgia's cheeks now as she whispered, 'I don't believe we're actually here.'
Before I could answer, our eyes were completely dazzled by an incredible burst of light just inside the foyer. And right in the middle of all this dazzling brightness stood Ant and Dec, totally unconcerned by all the exploding flashbulbs around them.
Afterwards they shook hands with some of the photographers and then Dec (that's the shorter one) caught my eye for a moment and called out, 'It's the sizzler!'
To think of Dec – a TV superstar – knowing about me. It was such an incredible moment that I was utterly speechless.
Yet Laura just said, rather briskly I thought, 'Oh, famous people are more starstruck than anybody. And there's nothing that goes down better than the latest new famous person.'
But then Georgia, her eyes sparkling, murmured, 'You know, Tobey, being famous is like joining a very exclusive club – and now you're a member.'
10.30 p.m.
The film we saw at the premiere was, in Georgia's opinion and mine, the greatest one ever made. But then, how could you not love a film with actors from Holby City sitting right next to you? And with fame and glamour and happiness just shining all round?
Georgia and I kept nudging each other and having another spasm of joy as we spotted someone else famous. And after the film had finished we lingered in the foyer still not quite believing that we'd broken into such a magic atmosphere.
'This is where we belong,' I said.
Georgia agreed. 'And I feel so at home here already.'
'That's because we're both natural celebrities,' I said.
There was a party afterwards too. Only we didn't have tickets for that. I suppose they thought I was too young (totally not true), so instead the five of us had a meal at this restaurant just round the corner from Leicester Square.
Of course we drank a toast to Georgia's birthday. She'd heard some good news today as well. Some Year Nine girls at her school were putting on a play and wanted Georgia to be in it. 'The only Year Seven girl to be asked,' said Georgia's mum proudly.
Georgia nodded, and then added, 'Oh, it's only a school play but I don't think I'd be able to live if I couldn't act again somewhere.'
'And you've got a blinding talent, Georgia,' I said quietly. 'You've got to treasure that.'
She looked away. 'Don't be nice to me. I don't deserve it. I've been so jealous of you.'
'And I can quite see why you should be,' I said. 'You get picked by a TV star to be in a play – the lead part too. And you were amazing. No other word for it, while I'm currently a little bit famous for doing some impressions of sick cats.'
'You're more than a little bit famous,' said Georgia.
'Well, I'm very modest, as you know,' I grinned. 'But I've been thinking about fame quite a lot lately,' I said. 'Got a new theory about it actually. Want to hear it?'
'Oh yeah, of course.'
'Well, in my opinion fame is like a giant blue bubble.'
She giggled. 'What?'
'No, listen. This blue bubble can quite suddenly come floating and shining towards you, showering you with glory. And it's great being even a bit fam
ous – don't let anyone tell you differently. But the thing is, Georgia, this blue bubble of fame appears when it feels like it. You can try and do all sorts of different things to attract its attention – well, look at me. And not one of them really worked, did they?
'In the end, that blue bubble crept up on me when I was least expecting it. Now I want it to hang around as long as possible, keeping the dream alive. But I know it can vanish in an instant. And once it goes it might never come back to me. So I've decided something,' I paused. 'Well, I can't spend my whole life just waiting for the blue bubble's next appearance, can I? That could send you mad.'
Georgia nodded and I sensed she was listening to me really intently.
I went on, 'There's got to be something else going on too. That's why I thought I might come to that drama club with you one Sunday.'
'Oh yeah, great,' she said at once.
I said. 'I know I'll never be a deep, intense actor like you – so I want to find my own style. But I do get such a kick out of entertaining people. In fact, don't tell anyone but I think I like that even more than being famous. That's why I'd like to learn a bit more about it.'
'Come along this Sunday,' she said.
'Yeah, OK – they're not going to ask me to pretend I'm a dying leaf or a pile of horse manure, are they?'
'When you turn up, anything is possible,' she laughed, then said, 'Thanks a million times for such a brilliant night that I'll never forget – and I'm sorry I've been such a moody old grump bucket lately.'
I said, 'When your best friend becomes a superstar, it's very hard not to be a moody grump bucket, especially when he becomes the country's leading impersonator of sick cats.'
She started to laugh, then gave my hand a highly affectionate squeeze and said, 'I really hope the blue bubble of fame stays with you for a very, very long time.'
Do you want to know something else? Nothing that happened tonight – not even Dec knowing my name – was more brilliant than her saying that.
A Note from Pete Johnson
I love the way DVDs have extras – that's why I thought I'd give this book AN EXTRA BIT from the author.
But did any of the story really happen? That's what I always want to know when I finish a book. And if you'd like to know the inside info about How to Get Famous, then read on.
First of all I'm mad about films. And my very first job was actually as a film critic. You can imagine how much I loved that: seeing six new films every week for free. Then I would review them for magazines – and on Radio One.
And yes, I did get invited to some film premieres, and much of what I described in How to Get Famous I actually saw, including all the thousands of fans and autograph-hunters waiting behind the barricades.
I've also appeared on television a number of times. And just like Tobey, I'm shaking with nerves before I go on, but as soon as I'm actually in front of the cameras I relax instantly.
I've acted in some plays too. Was I any good? I asked some friends for an objective opinion. They thought for a moment then said, 'Well, you weren't terrible.' I certainly wasn't as talented as Georgia.
I can't do animal impressions either (no, not even of a cat being sick) but a good mate of mine can. So I borrowed that from him.
So really, How to Get Famous is a mixture of things I've seen and remembered, topped off with a VERY LARGE helping of imagination.
Pete Johnson
Some other things you may not know about Pete Johnson:
Pete's favourite book when he was younger was 'One Hundred and One Dalmations'. Pete wrote to the author of this book, Dodie Smith. She was the first person to encourage Pete to be an author.
Once when Pete went to a Television Studio to talk about his books he was mistaken for an actor and taken to the audition room. TV presenter Sarah Greene also once mistook Pete for her brother.
When he was younger Pete used to sleep-walk regularly. One night he woke up to find himself walking along a busy road in his pyjamas.
Pete's favourites of his books are: 'The Ghost Dog,' 'How to Train Your Parents' and 'Help! I'm a Classroom Gambler.' His favourite characters are Miranda from 'Trust me I'm a Troublemaker,' and Harvey from 'Help! I'm a Classroom Gambler.' The books he enjoys reading most are thrillers and comedies.
Pete likes to start writing by eight o'clock in the morning. He reads all the dialogue aloud to see if it sounds natural. When he's stuck he takes his mad dog, Tilly for a long walk.
He carries a notebook wherever he goes. 'The best ideas come when you're least expecting them.'
www.petejohnsonauthor.com