Golden Girl

by Cathy Hopkins

  ‘Shame,’ said Alisha. ‘I’d love to have that pale pink dressing table.’

  ‘Money can’t buy everything, sis,’ said JJ. ‘It’s a real honour for the film crew to be allowed to film here.’

  ‘It is indeed,’ said Ramesh. ‘And this evening, I believe they will be shooting a scene in the Darbar Hall below.’

  We made our way out of the final gallery back into the corridor, from where we could see through scalloped arches into a hall below.

  ‘These would have been the viewing galleries for the royal ladies,’ said JJ. ‘Isn’t that right, Ramesh?’

  Ramesh nodded. ‘You are correct, sir. Such places are to be found in palaces all over India, often with a lattice screen or silk curtains so the women could stand and observe what was happening in court but not be seen.’

  ‘Cool,’ said Alisha. ‘A chance to spy on the guys. I like it.’

  For a moment, I imagined myself as a princess hundreds of years ago, gazing down at the colourful spectacle in the hall. Chandeliers shaped like giant dewdrops hung from the high ceiling, while portraits, presumably of previous rulers of Udaipur, lined the walls, as well as a display of ancient swords and other weapons.

  ‘It looks like it hasn’t changed for centuries,’ I said as, in my mind, bejewelled princes lounged about on silk cushions, drinking tea or reading by the light of one of the many antique lamps.

  ‘Apart from all the film equipment,’ said JJ.

  I followed his gaze and saw that dozens of silver metal boxes of various sizes were stacked on one side of the hall. They contained all the equipment needed to film the next sequence. A team of electricians were busy adjusting lights which hung from a complex arrangement of scaffolding that almost filled one wall. Others were rearranging furniture, hiding cables, adjusting light reflectors and generally making everything ready for the actors. Many of them were speaking into radios or mobile phones.

  ‘It was a banqueting hall, wasn’t it?’ JJ asked.

  ‘It was, sir,’ said Ramesh, ‘and today is still used for weddings, meetings and parties.’

  ‘I’d like to get married here,’ said Alisha.

  ‘Better find a husband first,’ said JJ. ‘Typical you. Pick the venue before the man.’

  Alisha stuck out her bottom lip. ‘Mom and Dad are always telling us that to be a winner in life, you have to be prepared, know what you want and where you’re going, yeah?’

  JJ scoffed. ‘You’d better find a guy first.’

  Alisha sighed. ‘Yeah. If only. It’s not for lack of trying, you know.’

  ‘You’re too fussy,’ said JJ. ‘You want Mr Perfect.’

  I gave her arm a squeeze. I knew the fact that she hadn’t ever had a boyfriend was a sore point for her.

  ‘But things are looking up since this morning. I really like Prasad,’ she said.

  ‘Does he know you’re checking out wedding venues already, Miss Fusspot?’ asked JJ. ‘Jeez, Alisha. You only met him today.’

  ‘You so don’t get me, JJ,’ she said.

  ‘Tell us more about the movie,’ I said, trying to change the subject before they started squabbling.

  ‘Tell us about the boys later,’ I heard Pia whisper to Alisha.

  Behind JJ’s back, I saw Alisha throw a mock punch at him.

  ‘It’s a period thriller. Dad plays the part of a Robin Hood type character who robs from the rich to give to the poor. In the case of old India, to the untouchables.’

  At the mention of the untouchables, I saw Ramesh’s face flash with interest but he didn’t say anything.

  ‘They’re not shooting a long scene this evening, but it’s an important one that links all the others,’ said Alisha. ‘It’s where the Maharaja’s daughter spots Dad’s character in the palace.’

  ‘Shreya’s playing that part, isn’t she?’ I asked and JJ nodded.

  ‘Who are the untouchables?’ asked Pia.

  ‘Haven’t you heard of the caste system?’ asked JJ.

  Pia nodded. ‘Yes. It’s something like the class system in our country, isn’t it, Ramesh?’

  Ramesh paused before answering as if carefully considering his words. ‘There were four castes,’ he told us. ‘First the Brahmin caste who were priests and teachers, then the Kshatriyas who were the rulers, warriors and soldiers, next came the Vaisyas, the farmers, workers, merchants and artisans, fourth came the Sudras who were the labourers and unskilled workers.’

  ‘But what about the untouchables?’ Pia insisted. ‘Where did they fit?’

  Ramesh sighed. ‘They didn’t, madam. The untouchables were considered the lowest of the low. They were the outcasts of society. For instance, if a Brahmin even accidentally touched one of them, he would have to bathe to remove the pollution.’

  ‘Wow, that’s harsh,’ said Alisha. ‘Sounds as bad or even worse than how slaves were treated back home.’

  ‘And the system’s been abolished?’ I asked. ‘Please say yes.’

  ‘Oh yes. It was abolished by the government in the 1960s, though some say that the roots are so deeply entrenched in Indian history and society that it is still apparent. Mahatma Ghandi did much for the abolition and he renamed the untouchables the children of God.’

  ‘That sounds way better than outcast,’ said Pia.

  ‘Seems mad to me,’ said JJ. ‘I mean, prick anyone’s skin and they bleed. Everyone has feelings and every society has good and bad people which is nothing to do with what caste or race they were born into.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Ramesh, ‘but in this country, progress is slow. To call anyone an untouchable is now considered wrong, politically incorrect, and in fact, there is a woman who was born an untouchable and is now a respected figure in our parliament. That could never have happened before but it will still take time for the old prejudices to disappear completely.’

  ‘It’s a bit like where we live,’ I said. ‘Some people insist they are working class, others upper. But it’s not really about class any more, it’s money that’s the real divide between the haves and the have nots.’

  Pia was looking at me with a strange expression. I glanced at JJ and Alisha and wondered if I shouldn’t have said that, but it made me sad to think that some people were seen as outcasts just because of a system they were born into.

  It’s a mad world, I thought. Back at home, I saw how at Number 1, Porchester Park, the residents were super rich while not a few metres away, sitting outside in a shop doorway, was Eddie, the homeless man who only had a cardboard box to sleep in. People often walked away from him when they saw him asking for money. Maybe things haven’t changed that much, I thought. I also realised how little I knew about this country I was visiting and vowed to read up about India more when I got home.

  ‘I agree,’ said JJ. ‘That’s why I want to be a lawyer. See what I can give back.’ His phone bleeped that he had a message. He glanced at it. ‘Shreya,’ he said, then grimaced. ‘Wants to know where we are.’

  ‘We?’ I asked with mock surprise.

  JJ pulled a face. ‘Jess, I need to talk to you about Shreya.’

  My stomach knotted uncomfortably but I didn’t let my anxiety show on my face. ‘Yes?’

  Before he got a chance to say any more, a vision appeared at the end of the corridor. We all did a double-take. Shreya was dressed in her costume for the movie – a ruby-encrusted red silk sari, gold earrings and nose ring, her eyes darkened with kohl. A string of tiny pearls shone in her hair and diamond and gold bangles sparkled on her wrists and ankles. She looked incredible, every inch a princess. It was as if she’d stepped out of one of the ancient family portraits that lined the room. She stopped and posed for a moment, well aware of the impact she was having, then grinned and waved at us all before doing a little twirl.

  ‘Hey,’ she called. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Stunning,’ I said and I meant it.

  She swished her way towards us, her jewels tinkling as she walked. ‘I’m ready, so everyone else better had be. You
guys going to come and watch?’ she asked, but her question was directed at JJ.

  Before anyone could answer, Mrs Lewis appeared behind us. ‘Oh, there you all are. Quickly, come with me,’ she said. ‘The director’s found a place we can watch where we’ll be out of the way. We’re very lucky to be allowed, but you must keep completely silent, so no talking. OK?’

  ‘OK, Mrs Lewis,’ I said, then looked at Pia, who mimed zipping her mouth shut.

  ‘See you later. Wish me to break a leg,’ said Shreya, misquoting the actor’s cliché of wishing each other luck.

  I didn’t dare correct her. I felt intimidated by her. We all wished her luck and she disappeared back down the corridor, then we said our goodbyes and thanks to Ramesh. I couldn’t wait to witness the filming and followed Mrs Lewis down the stairs and into the back of the hall.

  We were met by an assistant director who, after speaking into his radio, showed us where to stand.

  ‘The director wants to do this all in one take,’ he said. ‘Mr Lewis will enter from the far end of the hall. He will run along the side, keeping in the shadows where he will encounter Shreya, the princess, then they will both exit over there.’ He pointed to a small door close to us. ‘So please, no movement at all while we’re shooting.’

  We all nodded in agreement, then he spoke into his radio again and was off. I hoped that Pia wouldn’t get one of her giggling fits. She often did if we were in places where we knew we mustn’t laugh. Nerves probably. Trouble was, it usually set me off too.

  I turned to Alisha and, even in the dim light, I could see that she was blushing. Two tall Indian boys had entered the hall and were coming over to join us in our corner. Divinely handsome and clearly brothers, one maybe around eighteen with shoulder-length hair, the other slightly younger with shorter hair. The younger one stepped forward and put his hand out to JJ.

  ‘You must be JJ,’ he said. ‘We’ve been looking forward to meeting you. I’m Prasad and this is my brother, Kunal.’ He glanced at Alisha, who smiled then tossed her hair in an attempt to look cool.

  I glanced at Pia, who raised an eyebrow at me. We didn’t need to say anything. Alisha had met her prince.

  JJ just had time to quickly introduce Pia and me before there was a shout for silence.

  Ignoring it, Kunal stepped close to me and whispered, ‘Will you be at the party tomorrow?’

  ‘Hush,’ warned the assistant director from a short distance away.

  Kunal made a short bow in apology. I glanced at JJ, who had been watching. I couldn’t help feeling flattered that Kunal had asked. Now you know how I feel when Shreya flirts with you, JJ, I thought. No harm in him seeing that other boys noticed me in the same way that girls noticed him.

  At the far end of the hall, I saw Jefferson Lewis and Shreya arrive. They exchanged a few quick words with the director then, to their left, someone called, ‘Action’.

  There was such a buzz of energy in the room, the atmosphere, the setting, JJ standing next to me – just being there was a thrill. JJ moved closer and took my hand. Double thrill.

  Jefferson crept into the hall, keeping his back to the wall. A noise to his right alerted him that someone had come in. He darted back into the shadows. Shreya entered and looked around her. It was really quiet – as if everyone in the room was holding their breath along with Jefferson.

  ‘I know you’re here,’ Shreya called.

  Jefferson shrank back further against the wall.

  The hall was completely silent and still as we waited to see what happened next.

  ‘I tawt I taw a puddy tat a creepin’ up on me,’ sounded the voice of Tweety Pie, shattering the silence.

  It was my mobile. I’d downloaded the ringtone to my phone before we’d left the UK.

  Pia burst out laughing.

  I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. So not funny.

  ‘CUT!’ called the director as a hundred angry faces turned in my direction.

  ‘I blew it,’ I said the next morning as Pia and I took a break from our studying. ‘I totally blew it.’

  Pia sighed. ‘No, you didn’t. You saw what happened. They did ten takes in the end. It happens all the time. Planes fly over scenes in historical movies and they have to reshoot, plus Shreya was wearing a watch in the first three takes, for heaven’s sake. Somehow I don’t think they had Cartier back in the fifteen-hundreds.’

  ‘Yeah, but I should have known better.’

  ‘She should have known better; she’s the movie star, not you. If Prasad hadn’t noticed the watch, they might have had to go back to shoot today. I thought they had people on set to notice bloopers like that. What about that microphone in shot on one of the last takes! It’s amazing what gets through – there are endless websites showing famous errors like that.’

  ‘I still feel like an idiot.’

  ‘Stop obsessing. Get over it. Everyone makes mistakes and it was cool in the end.’

  After the shoot, I’d apologised to everyone I could find, to the director, to Jefferson, to Mrs Lewis, to JJ and Alisha. They were all very sweet about it but I wondered if they had put on polite masks and, as soon as I was out of earshot, they were agreeing that I was a total eejit. I even apologised to Shreya. She hadn’t been so sweet and had treated me like I was invisible the rest of the evening. I even overheard her saying to Kunal that the first take would have been the best one if only the stupid English girl hadn’t ruined it. And she insisted on introducing JJ to all the film crew so once again, he and I didn’t manage to get any time to ourselves. He’d glanced over at me a few times and shrugged as if to say that there wasn’t a lot that he could do about it.

  ‘Why doesn’t Shreya go for Kunal?’ I asked. ‘He’s from her A-lister world.’ Alisha had told us more about the brothers on the way back from the shoot. Apparently they both went to school at Eton in England and were home for the holidays, staying at the five-star hotel their parents owned on the other side of the lake.

  ‘Alisha told me that Shreya dated Kunal for a while last summer, then moved on to the next boy on her list. Alisha thinks she’s the kind of girl who likes a challenge,’ said Pia.

  ‘Like a female Tom.’

  ‘Sounds like it. Shame he’s not here to distract her. Apparently she’s desperate to get away for some beach party in Goa after the wrap party. Loads of celebs from Mumbai are going to be there.’

  ‘I heard. I can’t wait for her to go. She even asked JJ if he wanted to go with her to Goa after the party, like I don’t exist and am not even worth considering!’

  ‘Maybe you should stake your claim and snog him in public,’ Pia suggested.

  ‘Mr and Mrs Lewis might not like that,’ I said, ‘and I’m probably not their favourite person at the moment after my Tweety Pie interruption.’

  ‘Nah. They’re chilled.’

  ‘Do you think Shreya knows that it’s JJ’s birthday later this week?’

  ‘I doubt it. If she did, she’d want to muscle in on the celebration,’ said Pia.

  ‘Although if she’s like all these others with their private jets, she could probably go to Goa and then come back again. She’s probably doing that, in fact. I just hope she goes for long enough so I can get some space alone with JJ at last.’

  ‘Well, I’m not going to tell her it’s his birthday,’ Pia said. ‘I really don’t think JJ’s interested in her, but if you’re really worried, then ask him.’

  ‘But you said I had to be cool and not act needy.’

  ‘Yes, but I can see it’s getting to you. I’m certain he’d reassure you.’

  A knock at the door five minutes later announced that Alisha had come to visit. She came into the room and frowned when she saw our books.

  ‘It’s so boring you have to do that,’ she said, then bounced onto my bed. ‘Luckily I got all my study done before the trip.’

  ‘We’ve just about finished for today,’ said Pia.

  ‘Good, because I have a plan. Have you ever done meditation?’
<
br />   I shook my head. ‘I tried it once after reading a magazine article but never properly.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said Pia, ‘but I’ve always wanted to give it a go.’

  ‘Me too. Loads of my mates are into it over in LA.’

  ‘The ones with gurus?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Alisha. ‘It’s supposed to make you feel calm and cool.’ She looked at the books again. ‘Good for exam stress, apparently. Anyway, I came to tell you that there’s some kind of guru convention festival thing happening at one of the temples in Udaipur today. Prasad has invited me. Could be good. My mates back in the States will be so jealous that I can go and meet loads of different kinds of gurus.’

  ‘A bit like an Elvis convention, then?’ I asked.

  Alisha laughed. ‘Something like that. Maybe we could check it out. Learn the meaning of life and all that, as well as get to know Prasad a bit better.’

  It was good to see Alisha looking so happy. Meeting Prasad had really given her a lift.

  Pia grimaced. ‘A guru convention? You’re not serious?’

  ‘Yes I am,’ said Alisha. ‘Apparently there are many different types here in India with different takes on the meaning of life. Aren’t you into all that what’s-it-all-about stuff?’

  ‘No,’ said Pia. ‘I just get on with living without thinking too much about the whys and wherefores. Are you sure you’re not just going along to impress Prasad?’

  Alisha feigned offence. ‘As if. I’m a true seeker.’

  ‘Yeah, of designer handbags,’ said Pia.

  Alisha picked up a pillow from the bed and playfully threw it at Pia. ‘I have hidden depths, you know.’

  ‘Yeah, very well hidden,’ said Pia.

  ‘I think about the meaning of life,’ I said. ‘Often. Especially since my mum died. I questioned everything then, like where have we come from? Where do we go? I spent a long time in the library seeing what different religions had to say about it all.’

  ‘Queen of Deep, that’s our Jess,’ said Pia.

  ‘And what did the books say?’ asked Alisha.

  I shrugged. ‘I only ended up more confused than ever. God, energy, I don’t know. I still think about it, a lot. Like, here we are on the planet, but what’s it all about? Why are we here? Is there a God? If religions say that there’s one God, why are they always fighting over which one is the one?’