by Pete Johnson
Dad was on patrol in my room tonight. I didn’t speak to him and he hardly spoke to me. His eyes just rolled wearily around my bedroom.
FRIDAY MAY 3RD
A parcel arrived for me today. It was from Todd, sending me another P. G. Wodehouse book, Very Good, Jeeves. He also wrote me a little note saying he was sorry I’d missed the audition but to keep my chin up as he was sure I’d make a breakthrough one day.
Longed to tell him I’d already made a breakthrough but decided it was too risky. He might just feel he has to tell my parents. Todd also told me he’s doing another drama course in the summer and he’d be really pleased to see me there. Would I be interested?
Well, even though I’m going to be a TV star any moment now, I am very interested. You see, I don’t want to just have five minutes of fame then find a week later everyone has forgotten me. No, I’m in this for the long haul. And for that I’ll need to learn all the stuff I can.
I put Todd’s letter down for a second and the next thing I knew Mum was reading it. I was appalled by this blatant invasion of my privacy. Don’t I have any human rights now?
Each night now Maddy and I take it in turns to ring each other. But don’t worry, there’s nothing yucky going on. We only talk about important things, like parent-training and jokes.
SATURDAY MAY 4TH
A bit of a setback with the parent-training today. I was summoned for a discussion with my parents about my attitude. They think it’s got much worse over the past few days. ‘You’ve just not been yourself,’ said Mum. (She can talk!) ‘You’ve been rude and withdrawn but we think we know why.’
For one awful moment I thought they’d somehow discovered I was training them. But then Mum started gibbering about how she thinks I’m finding school work too much to cope with – and ‘would I like a tutor?’
‘About as much as I’d like leprosy,’ I blurted out, forgetting, in my shock, that I must keep all sentences to my parents to two or three words. But I quickly recovered and said, ‘Tutor,’ sneeringly, then looked right past them.
‘But you are worried about your school work?’ persisted Mum.
I raised both my eyebrows. ‘Whatever,’ I said mockingly.
Dad came over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. ‘This isn’t like you, Louis. Come on, what’s wrong? We’re here to help, you know.’
Could feel myself starting to crack a bit. But I knew I mustn’t weaken, not bang in the middle of their training programme, so I decided this was the moment to let loose one of those killer sentences Maddy had given me. So, at the top of my voice I cried, ‘I didn’t ask to be born into this family, you know.’ And for good measure added, ‘I so wish I’d been brought up in an orphanage.’
Well, Maddy didn’t exaggerate the power of those words. My dad stepped back from me. My mum looked totally stunned. And I didn’t even need to start talking out of the side of my mouth to end that particular conversation. It spluttered to a halt right then.
Dad just said, ‘I’m very sorry you feel like that, Louis,’ and walked out.
Mum went all shirty and tight-lipped. ‘We’ve seen a very different side to you these last days. I don’t know what’s got into you.’ Then she stalked off too.
Afterwards I wondered if I’d been a bit tough on them. But then I remembered that this parent-training was for their own good too. They’re going to have so much free time in the evening of their lives.
SUNDAY MAY 5TH
Dear diary, do you ever wish that the future was over? Not all of it. Just a little part. Like all those pointless, dead days between now and my next audition. Can’t wait to get back on that stage again. And after that I’ll be really busy being on the telly and performing my comedy gig around the country – not to mention tripping over photographers.
Of course I’ll have to do the odd bit of maths in my trailer between performances. But that’s all I’ll have time for. Really, really hope that the TV company rings me soon. About every five minutes I get my mobile out to check it’s still working all right.
MONDAY MAY 6TH
I can describe the atmosphere in my house at the moment in two words: completely horrible.
My parents both look frazzled and edgy and keep staring at me in an odd way, as if I’m a stranger they’ve found roaming about. Mum keeps starting to say things to me, and then spluttering out in the middle of the sentence. I heard her saying to Nan on the phone, ‘You wouldn’t know Louis. He’s impossible at the moment.’
This has certainly been the worst Bank Holiday I can ever remember.
TUESDAY MAY 7TH
In history today Theo got another B. ‘I’m glad I’m not copying off you any more,’ I joked.
‘What’s happening to me?’ he cried.
‘Into each life a few Bs must fall,’ I said.
‘Not mine,’ he said. ‘My parents were so cut-up about my last B . . .’ He bit his lower lip anxiously. ‘What sort of way is this to repay them for all the sacrifices they’ve made for me? Louis, what am I going to tell them? You’ve got to help me.’
Well, I did try. But I just couldn’t think of a single thing.
WEDNESDAY MAY 8TH
This afternoon I walked to Maddy’s school. She was waiting outside the school gates for me. I was so pleased to see her I went all shy for a few seconds. But soon we were gabbling away. I did my new act for her, and she really liked it.
She also said I shouldn’t worry that I don’t have a date for the next audition yet. She was certain they’d ring very soon and I just had to be sure to keep my mobile charged up at all times.
‘I hate going home,’ I said.
‘So do I,’ she replied.
‘But your parents are all trained up now.’
‘Yeah, but I’d still rather live on my own,’ she said.
As soon as I got back Elliot announced, ‘You’re in big trouble,’ with a big grin on his face.
‘So what’s new,’ I murmured.
I thought I was in trouble because I was late. But no, a fresh crime has been entered on my charge sheet. Mum told me that Prue had just been round. Prue knew about Theo getting another B and she knows why. Or she thinks she does. Theo told her it was all my fault as I keep putting him off his work!
Well, I was really shocked. Why on earth was Theo making up all that rubbish? I even forgot about the parent-training for a moment and blurted out, ‘That’s not true at all, Mum. Honestly, it isn’t.’
‘Isn’t it?’ she said wearily. Then she told me that Prue had already rung the school to demand that from tomorrow, Theo and I are separated in all our lessons.
THURSDAY MAY 9TH
I waited at the gates for Theo this morning, but he just swept past me like a full bus.
In lessons I was moved right across the room from him. He didn’t look at me once. But then, in the changing room before PE, this voice hissed at me, ‘Don’t turn round, I just want to say I’m really sorry for what I said about you to my parents, but it was the only way I could get them off my back. I’ve had to promise them I won’t talk to you at all today. We are still mates though, aren’t we?’
‘Well, I’d give you an A for cheek, anyway,’ I said.
‘The only one I’ll get today,’ he said gloomily.
At home Elliot rushed in from Art Club and Mum immediately started going on about his homework.
‘Mum,’ he asked suddenly, ‘when exactly do I get time to play?’ Mum looked distinctly unsettled by that question. I noticed she didn’t answer either.
FRIDAY MAY 10TH
The TV company called this afternoon! I’d just gone upstairs to do my homework when the call came. It was Josie, from the audition. She chatted away for ages. She asked about my hobbies and my school. I yakked on for ages about all my mad teachers.
Then we talked about my parents and how they’ve changed lately. She burst out laughing at some of the things I said about them. And she was just so incredibly friendly. Any second now, I thought, she’s going to ask me
to go away on holiday with her.
Then she spoke about my next audition. First off, she thought I should lose the Australian accent. I said I keep trying to lose it but it’s kind of addictive. She laughed at that. Next she said she didn’t want to alarm me but she had a suggestion: why didn’t I drop the jokes from my act and just tell some of the stories about my family and school, which I’d told her. She thought it would seem more natural – and be funnier too. She also suggested I throw in some of my impressions of Wormold and Spitty – and my parents. Well, I was a bit stunned but I promised to give it a try.
She told me the next audition would be next week, on May 16th. The first stage will be at eleven o’clock in the morning, then if I pass that one there’ll be a screen test in the afternoon. And if I do OK there, I’d be filming my slot the very next day. Wow. And double wow!
She explained there was a hole in the schedules so that’s why everything was being brought forward. She also said that if I pass the Thursday auditions, they’ll put me up in a hotel so I’ll be bright and fresh for my TV debut the following day.
It was all dead exciting – and everything was going just brilliantly until she asked to chat to my mum. She said she needed to go over a few details with her, such as checking I’ll be able to get the time off school.
‘Do you think I could have a word with her now?’ she asked.
‘Of course,’ I said. ‘I’ll go and get her for you.’
I paced around my bedroom a few times, thinking hard. Then I remembered something that had happened to a boy in my class yesterday.
I picked the phone up. ‘Hi, it’s me again. I’m sorry to tell you Mum’s just gone down with a violent nosebleed.’
‘Oh dear!’ She sounded really concerned.
‘She gets them sometimes. But I did manage to ask her if I could go to the audition and she very definitely nodded her head.’
But Josie wasn’t satisfied. She said she needed to talk to my mum directly. ‘I’ll be at the office until half past six,’ she said. ‘Could your mum call me before then?’
‘Well, she’s pretty busy mopping up blood at the moment,’ I began.
‘I do need to get her confirmation before we can proceed any further,’ said Josie, with a new firmness in her voice. She gave me her number and rang off.
And I decided I’d have to tell Mum what had happened. It was such an amazing thing that she was bound to be excited for me. I sprinted downstairs. She was sitting at the kitchen table with Elliot. She was going over his homework with him. He was yawning. I hovered in the doorway. She certainly wasn’t pestering me with lots of questions. The training had succeeded there. And she was ignoring me. Again, what I’d wanted. Only, not right now.
I walked over to the fridge and opened it, just for something to do, really. ‘Tea is in half an hour,’ said Mum, still not looking directly at me. Then she went on explaining subtraction to Elliot.
I crawled back upstairs. There is no way I could talk to Mum about anything at the moment – and certainly not something as important as this.
My first solution was to impersonate Mum on the phone. I’d whisper, saying that the nosebleed had caused me to temporarily lose my voice. But in the end, I didn’t do that, as I had a much better idea.
I called Maddy and asked if she’d like to be my mum. She kind of gasped and laughed at the same time. ‘Louis, what are you talking about?’
I quickly explained and ended by saying, ‘You were brilliant at playing Mrs Kay in Our Day Out. You really were.’
‘But that was just reading aloud,’ she cried. ‘While this is like acting in public . . .’ her voice fell away, ‘and you know I can’t do that.’
‘Oh, OK,’ I said, trying to hide my disappointment.
‘So what will you do?’ she whispered.
‘Don’t worry, my brain cells are humming already. They’ll come up with an idea any second.’
She rang off. Three seconds later my mobile rang again. All I could hear was someone breathing dead quickly. ‘What’s the number?’ asked Maddy, in this funny, tight voice.
‘Hey, are you—?’
‘Don’t say a single word to me,’ she interrupted, ‘or I won’t be able to do it. Just tell me the number.’
I did and the phone clicked off immediately. Waiting was total agony. Then my mobile went again and there was another burst of deep breathing before Maddy cried, ‘I rang her, Louis.’
‘And did she—?’
‘Yes, she did. And after a bit I wasn’t nervous at all. I can’t believe I did it now.’
‘You saved the day all right,’ I said.
‘And I remembered I was your agent and asked about the money. You’re getting a fee for the recording on Friday and you get an extra fee every time your spot is shown on TV.’
‘So if I get picked I’ll be coining it in. Well, don’t worry, I shan’t forget my agent.’
We chattered for ages more and when she finally rang off I said, ‘See you soon, Mummy.’
‘Make sure you eat all your greens, son,’ she giggled.
It was only later I realized something. I still needed to produce a parent on Thursday. They had to be around to sign forms and stuff. So what am I going to do about that?
SUNDAY MAY 12TH
First off, the good news. The amount of time my parents spend talking to me is declining dramatically. More good news. They’ve just about stopped patrolling my bedroom when I’m doing homework. A tired-looking Dad hovered for two minutes on Friday night before pushing off again.
A definite result there. Now for the bad news. It’s too quiet in my house. You can hear the silence. You can feel it right next to you. I wanted to switch my parents’ volume down – not turn it off altogether.
Whenever they see me now, my parents hardly utter a word. But their faces sag and they look tense and confused. And I don’t like that. So, when will things perk up again? Maddy is distinctly vague about this.
In this current climate there’s absolutely no chance of them accompanying me to the audition on Thursday. So Maddy suggested hiring someone to play my mum for the day. Like an actress who’s out of work, or resting, as they call it in show business. She’s going to see if she can find the name of a resting actress in the Stage.
But the sands of time are running out.
MONDAY MAY 13TH
In maths today, Mrs Archer was handing back homework. She went up to Theo and hissed, ‘I’m very disappointed in this. See me at the end of the lesson, please.’ Of course, everyone was desperate to know what grade Theo had got. He put his hand over it so no one could see. But later in the lesson someone did find out, and the news raced round the classroom: ‘Theo’s got a C minus.’
His shoulders were shaking and I knew he was trying really hard not to cry. C minus and Theo. Never thought I’d see those two in the same sentence. Even I got a C today.
At the end of the lesson Theo just sat behind his desk looking shell-shocked. No one said a word to him (they were all whispering about him, though). So I pottered over to offer him a cheery word. Only I didn’t get a chance. Instead, Mrs Archer did an impression of someone who’s just had a firework stuck up their bottom. She leaped forward and let out this really high-pitched squawk, ‘No, Louis.’
‘I just wanted—’
‘Off you go,’ she practically screamed at me.
‘But can’t I just say—?’
‘No you can’t. And you’d be better off spending your time revising for the maths exam on Thursday.’
At the mention of a maths exam Theo’s mouth crumbled and he lowered his head down onto the desk. Mrs Archer shooed me away and out the door as if I were a gang of angry wasps.
I was furious about the way I’d just been treated. I couldn’t even give a mate a word of comfort in his hour of need. No doubt that school soon won’t allow anyone to talk to me for fear I’ll contaminate them with my wicked ways. They’ll probably get me to walk around the school, tolling a bell and shouting,
‘Unclean, unclean,’ whenever anyone comes near.
This school really is a load of pigswill. But looking on the bright side, I’ll miss the maths exam on Thursday. Of course, they’ll make me do it when I come back. If I come back. If I haven’t run away instead.
Those last words, dear diary, just crept out of my pen. I think I might have just had a hot idea. But I need to roll it around my head for a bit.
6.45 p.m.
I’ve rolled it. And now I have the solution to all my problems. I’m going to run away.
The last time I made a bid for freedom was six years ago. That was when I was sick of Elliot and all the fuss everyone was making of him. So I found this massive bag, filled it with all my favourite dinosaurs and walked up to the top of my road. It started raining so I stayed in a phone box for what seemed like ages (but was probably only about ten minutes) and slunk home again. Mum never even realized I’d gone.
But this time will be totally different. I’ve been planning it all out. Here’s what I’ll do: after I’ve recorded my TV spot on Friday I’ll go back to where I used to live and crash out at a mate’s, probably Harry’s (he’s got a shed I could maybe hide in for a few days). I’m sure he’ll bring me some scraps of food. Then, once I hit the telly screens I’ll get lots more offers and be off touring around the country.
Going to ring Maddy now to tell her what I’ve decided.
7.00 p.m.
More amazing news. I told Maddy about my momentous decision and said, ‘All I need now is a parent for Thursday. Did you find any actresses?’
‘No,’ she said, very quietly. Then in the same quiet voice, ‘So there’s only one solution, isn’t there? I’ll have to play your mum again.’
I was stunned. ‘But, Maddy, you really hate acting in public.’
‘I know. But I haven’t got to say much, have I?’