Ruby Parker Hollywood Star
Rowan Goleman

Table of Contents

Cover Page

Title Page

Letter

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-one

Also by Rowan Coleman

Copyright

About the Publisher

Letter

From: Ruby [rparken@beuerlyhills.com]

To: Nyd a [nassimin@breakaleci.co.uk]; Danny [dharuey@breakaleg.co.uk]; Rnnie [amchance@breakaleg.co.uk]; Sean: [sriuers@breakaleg.co.uk]

Subject: Hello! From Hollywood!

Hi guys!

Well, I’m here in Beuerly Hills! We got here yesterday night and I still hauen’t properly got ouer the long flight, the first time I’ve euer flown this far. It makes me feel all fuzzy and backwards. I couldn’t sleep on the plane even though we flew first class and there were beds and everything, I was so excited! Vou wouldn’t believe Jeremy’s house [well, Anne-Marie and Sean might]! It’s gigantic! I don’t even know how big because all I’ve done since I got here is sleep and have breakfast and e-mail you lot. But I can tell you that I have my own bathroom, sitting room, complete with TU and laptop in my bedroom. Which in my opinion makes it more like a house than just a room, but anyway the house is in the hills above L.R. and I can even see the Hollywood sign from the window.

It seems like a lot of house to have when Jeremy isn’t even here half the time, but I suppose that’s what you do when you’ve made it big in Hollywood. Spend all your money on stuff. It still feels weird to see Mum and Jeremy “together”, holding hands and being all soppy. It was even weirder to leave Dad and Everest at Christmas, especially as me and Dad sort of fell out before I left. I think he is less OK about Mum and Jeremy than he makes out, especially since his so-called girlfriend chucked him.

Anyway this is my first proper morning in America and I am uery excited. It is warm out [weird for December] and the sky is blue.

Miss you all

Rubesx

Chapter One

When I opened my eyes this morning I had that holiday feeling, times about one million.

I always get it when I sleep in a new place. I was so used to looking at the same ceiling, and the same books on the shelves and posters on the walls, that when I opened my eyes I felt a little rush of excitement when I remembered exactly where I was. Sometimes when I was little, after Mum and Dad had kissed me goodnight, I used to put my pillow at the wrong end of the bed and sleep upside down so that when I woke up everything would be topsy-turvy and for a minute I’d have that holiday feeling.

But on my first morning in Jeremy’s Fort’s Hollywood home it wasn’t only that supercharged holiday feeling I had: it felt like I was stepping out of my life and into a movie.

I have made a film now and it’s nothing like you think it’s going to be. Every day is long and most of the time you spend waiting around to do your scene, which you usually have to do several times with lots more waiting around in between, and sometimes you can’t even remember where you are in the plot. Sometimes, in fact a lot of the time, making a film is quite boring. So when I say waking up in a movie, I don’t mean waking up on a film set. I mean that on my first morning at Jeremy’s house I felt like I had been zapped right through a cinema screen and straight into a living, breathing fantasy land. Although I knew it was real and that I really was in Hollywood, everything I looked at in my room that morning seemed a little bit shinier, a little more special than it did back at home. It was like the old musicals that Mum loves watching; the colours were deeper and brighter, and at any minute I got the feeling that everyone would stop what they were doing and burst into song.

I wasn’t surprised because this is Hollywood, and if this is the town where dreams comes true, then it made sense to me that being here would be like living in a Technicolor dream.

It was certainly a change after the year I’ve had, which has been amazing but exhausting and quite confusing; the year when I stopped being properly a kid any more and really started to grow up. The biggest thing that happened was that Dad stopped living at home and now my parents are divorcing. That was and is the hardest thing for me to get used to, but Mum and Dad seem to have moved on so fast that I almost feel I have to run to catch up with them. Sometimes I wonder if they are actually running away from the past instead of running towards the future. But I haven’t said anything to either of them because they both seem quite happy now, especially Mum.

In the middle of Dad leaving home I had my first proper storyline in top telly soap opera Kensington Heights, my first fake kiss from co-star Justin de Souza and my first real kiss from Danny Harvey, who is now my boyfriend. And then I left Kensington Heights to “find myself”, and found myself with a part in the Hollywood movie The Lost Treasure of King Arthur, directed by Art Dubrovnik and starring double Oscar winner Imogene Grant and leading British actor Jeremy Fort. I made friends with teen heart-throb and movie mega star Sean Rivers, rescued him from his evil father and helped reunite him with his long lost mum. Now he lives with her in London and goes to my school, Sylvia Lighthouse’s Academy for the Performing Arts. And on top of that, my best friend Nydia collapsed and hit her head very hard because she’d decided to stop eating to try and lose weight quickly.

But the weirdest thing of all was that my mum and Jeremy Fort started going out together! And that is properly weird because my mum is my mum. She’s pretty but she’s not glamorous or amazingly beautiful, or a Russian supermodel like Jeremy’s last girlfriend Carenza Slavchenkov, but it seems as if they are getting quite serious, because here we all are at his Hollywood home for the Christmas holidays.

Like I said, weird.

When I finally got up I had a shower, got dressed, then ventured outside of my bedroom to find Mum and Jeremy. I felt nervous about leaving my room, all fizzy and fluttery inside. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen during my two week holiday from my normal life, but I felt sure that they would be the most special, most exciting, most fun two weeks ever!

The house was covered from head to foot in the kinds of Christmas decorations that you usually only ever see in shops like Harrods. The banister was entwined with thick fake pine bunting, encrusted with glittering baubles that reflected the morning sunlight so brightly they almost dazzled me as I came down the grand staircase. In the hallway stood a Christmas tree that had to be nearly as big as the one the Norwegians give us Brits every year to put up in Trafalgar Square. It had an interestingly large amount of presents stacked underneath. I wondered if they were real gifts or fake ones like you get in department stores. As I studied them I noticed a furry little face with beady eyes peeping out from behind one especially big present. I hoped that it wasn’t a present for me because as a girl of nearly fourteen I was pretty much over cuddly toys, a fact that even basic research of my interests would have alerted him to. I was Just rehearsing the appropriate polite and pleased response when suddenly the creature leapt straight at me.

I screamed my head off.

“It’s a rat! A rat, a rat is biting me!” I shrieked as it grabbed my trouser leg and began to shake and tug at it vigorously, almost pulling me off balance. Mum, Jeremy, Jeremy’s chef Augusto and Marie the housekeeper all came racing into the hall. But instead of saving me from the mutant rodent, they all stopped in their tracks, smiling, and Mum even laughed.

“David!” Jeremy said sharply. “Come, boy.”

I stood in awe as the rat with a name stopped yanking at my trouser leg. Giving me a haughty look, it trotted over to Jeremy and leapt up into his arms. It was then that I noticed it had a collar. I knew Hollywood was a place where weird fads ruled, that some film stars had pigs for pets and others kept snakes, but I honestly thought that Jeremy was far too sensible to put a collar on a rat and call it David.

“Silly girl,” Mum said, reaching out and ruffling David’s head. “Since when do rats bark? This is Jeremy’s Chihuahua. He’s a dog, silly.”

I stared at the creature who was watching me intently from Jeremy’s arms. Of course he was a dog. I’d seen dogs like him before when we watched Crufts and also quite often peeping out from the specially made handbags of hotel heiresses, wearing diamond-encrusted ribbons. It was Just that everything had happened so quickly I’d put two and two together and made eight. Besides, it was the last kind of pet that I expected Jeremy to have.

“Sorry,” I said, feeling the heat in my cheeks. “I didn’t mean to call your dog a rat.”

Jeremy laughed. “Don’t worry, Ruby. When I first set eyes on him that’s exactly what I thought too. He used to belong to the young woman who lives a few houses down. But when it became more fashionable to have a Iamb on a lead she kicked poor old David out into the street without a second thought. He found his way here so Marie and I decided to give him a home. When you get to know him he’s really quite a character. I’m sure you’ll be great friends.”

Gingerly, I reached out a hand and tried to pat David on the head. He bared his needly little teeth at me and snarled. I wasn’t sure I agreed with Jeremy.

“David’s a funny name for a dog,” I said, withdrawing fingers quickly.

“I call him David because despite his tiny size he’s prepared to take on any Goliath in a fight. He’s got a lion’s heart.” Jeremy grinned and nodded towards the kitchen. “So, let’s have breakfast and plan our first day together in Hollywood.”

David looked at me from over Jeremy’s shoulder and for a second I wondered if the film of my life had turned into a Disney cartoon. Because I could have sworn that the evil little dog was laughing at me.

As I entered the kitchen I had to stop myself for a second by a fridge the size of a car and take a breath at what I saw. There was my mum, with quite a lot of grey roots showing in her hair and wearing some Jogging bottoms from Primark, sitting holding Jeremy Fort’s hand with one hand and eating a grapefruit with the other.

That was when it hit me.

This is my life now. My mum is going out with someone properly famous and rich, and I have Just made a film with him due to be released really soon, which means that before long I might be properly famous too, not Just in Britain – but all over the world. I felt my knees buckle and it seemed as if I had forgotten how to breathe out.

School, Dad and Everest, and even Danny and Nydia seemed very far away from me, and I felt homesick and scared, excited and thrilled all at once. This holiday was going to be Just a taste of what my life might turn into. This lifestyle, this kind of house, even this stupid dog with a stupid name could be the sort of thing that I take for granted in a few short weeks when my film comes out. If the last year had been a rollercoaster, I couldn’t imagine what heights the next year might hold for me.

“Well,” Jeremy said as he finished eating breakfast, “I have to confess that I’ve been so busy with this new shoot that I haven’t bought any gifts yet, so as today is Christmas Eve and time is running out I’ve decided I’m taking you two ladies shopping. You can choose whatever you want – so start thinking!”

“Oh Jeremy, you don’t have to do that,” my mum said happily. “We don’t expect you to buy us expensive presents.”

“Don’t we?” I said, a bit disappointed that all the presents under the tree must be fake after all. Mum raised a warning brow at me and Jeremy laughed.

“It feels funny enough as it is,” Mum went on. “Having someone else doing all the cleaning and the cooking and even the Christmas dinner! I hope you don’t think that the reason I…we…Ruby and I…are friends with you is because of all this. I mean, I knew you’d done well, but I honestly had no idea that you were quite so…well…rich.”

“My dear Janice,” Jeremy said, and he actually picked my mum’s hand up and kissed it, “I think you and I both know why we have become ‘friends’ and it had nothing to do with the mere trappings of wealth. Besides, if you don’t want expensive presents, then don’t choose expensive presents.”

“But the option is there to go expensive, right?” I said Just to make my mum’s eyes flash.

Jeremy smiled at me. “I can’t remember the last time I had a proper Christmas like this one, with people that I care for. I never married, never had children. What family I have is far away and distant. So you and your mum’s gift to me this year is your company, and giving me the pleasure of making your stay a happy one.”

“So we don’t actually have to buy you anything?” I asked mischievously.

“Ruby!” my mum exclaimed. “Remember you manners.”

“It’s fine, Janice,” Jeremy said. “I think my old friend Ruby here is teasing. Besides, it would be difficult to find inexpensive gifts where we are going.”

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Rodeo Drive. The most glamorous shopping street in the world. What do say, Ruby?”

I grinned at my mum. “I say, let’s go shopping!”

Somewhere between leaving in Jeremy’s silver Rolls Royce and returning five hours later, my mum had forgotten entirely that she didn’t want anything from him at all except his “friendship”.

I’ve never really done designer labels, not because I didn’t want to but because I wasn’t allowed to in case I got spoiled. (I should be so lucky.) It seemed, however, that the same rules did not apply to mums who date film stars and even I recognised the labels on the bags that she came back with: Armani, Gucci, Donna Karan, to name Just a few. All names of people who make a lot of money selling posh stuff that from a not very great distance looks exactly the same as stuff from Marks and Spencer or Asda. But anyway, it made Mum really happy. In fact, more than happy – she was sparkly and excited, like she was the teenager let loose with a credit card and not me.

Surprisingly, I found it much harder to spend Jeremy’s money. I kept thinking about my dad and the last time I had seen him, the night before we flew out. I had gone round to his flat to give him instructions for looking after my cat Everest. I also took the present I’d bought for him, which was a DIY manual because he still hasn’t done up his flat, and it’s all miserable and grey and old ladyish.

He looked miserable too when I went in – like he had started to blend in with his surroundings. He made me a hot chocolate and we sat on the lumpy old sofa.

“Are you still OK about me going?” I asked, because he wasn’t talking.

He gave me a sort of unhappy smile and said, “Of course I am.”

“You’ll be all right,” I said, leaning my head on his shoulder. “You’ll have a nice lunch at Granny’s with Uncle Pete and all that lot, won’t you? You love Granny’s roasties.”

“It’s not the same though, Rube,” Dad said heavily.

At first I felt guilty, but then I realised that if it was up to me, this Christmas would have been exactly like the last. Me, Mum and Dad sitting round the kitchen table in paper hats, and Everest trying to get a great big turkey leg through the cat flap without anyone noticing. Christmas was always good in our house even when Mum and Dad weren’t getting on so well. It was like in the First World War when all the soldiers stopped fighting on Christmas Day and played football instead. Mum and Dad stopped arguing and pulled crackers, and we laughed at the terrible Jokes because we wanted to laugh and we didn’t care if they weren’t funny.

And I suppose I knew last year, and even the year before that, that they were only trying for my sake, but I was glad they did it, because it meant that they were putting me first. I’ve been doing OK about Mum and Dad splitting up, but thinking about the kind of Christmas I would never have again made me feel cross and sad all at once.

“But, Dad,” I’d said, “it wouldn’t have been the same. Christmas wouldn’t have been us all together anyway, would it?”

Dad shrugged so that my head bumped on his shoulder. I sat up. “I know that,” he said shortly. “But I didn’t imagine that I wouldn’t be able to see you at all because you’d be in America with your mum’s new boyfriend.”

I looked at him. “So that’s what you really mind,” I said, my voice quite sharp. “You mind Mum having a boyfriend.”

“It does feel a bit strange, Ruby,” he said. “That’s all.”

“Well,” I said, and maybe I did sound a little bit more “I told you so” than I meant to. “You’re the one who wanted to break up, Dad. Me and Mum didn’t. And it’s not our fault if your so-called girlfriend chucked you and Mum’s going out with a movie star.”

“So that’s how it is, is it?”

Dad’s shout was unexpected and I Jumped as he stood up so that a little bit of hot chocolate slopped out of my mug and on to my trousers. I hadn’t realised he was so upset.

“That’s how what is, Dad?” I said, standing too.

“You and your mum against me.” Dad sounded bitter.

“No!” I started to feel cross. “No, Dad, that’s not how it is. It’s you that wanted to go. It’s you that wanted to be on your own and have a so-called girlfriend. It’s you, Dad, who didn’t even think about how Christmas would be for me and Mum when you left us. I suppose you’d be happy if all we were doing was sitting around an empty table, Just the two of us, feeling miserable and missing you! Would that cheer you up?”

“You used to be such a sweet little thing,” Dad said and he looked at me as if he didn’t know me. “But you’ve changed.”

“It wasn’t me that changed, Dad!” I shouted. “It was my life and you changed it. All I’m doing is my best to live with those changes, and if you don’t like me, then, well then…I’ll be gone tomorrow!”

And I ran out of his flat and slammed the door and ran back home. And I sat outside for quite a long time, cried for a bit and wondered how it was that my dad, with his terrible jokes and silly hair, had got so angry with me for something that he had done. It wasn’t fair. And then I wiped my tears, put on a smile and went indoors. I didn’t want Mum to know we had argued. She was feeling bad enough about taking me away for Christmas as it was.

“Your dad phoned,” Mum said as I went upstairs to double-check my packing. “He says he forgot to say something to you.”

“I’ll ring him later,” I said. But I didn’t.

And for all of the eleven-hour flight, and most of yesterday and last night and this morning, I didn’t feel bad about it at all. It was only when Jeremy started buying us presents that I felt awkward, as if accepting gifts that Dad could never have afforded to give me or Mum in a million years was taking me another step further away from him.

So all I got was an iPod, three dresses, two pairs of jeans, some trainers and a great big pair of sunglasses with little diamantes sparkling round the rims, just like you see real film stars wearing on TV. Well. I thought it would be rude not to get anything, even though my heart wasn’t really in it.

As we got back in Jeremy’s car I put the sunglasses on with the tag still attached and flapping in my face. Then I rolled down the window and shouted, “Watch out, Hollywood, here comes Ruby Parker!”

I expected Mum to tell me off, but she didn’t. She was too busy looking in her shopping bags and gazing adoringly at Jeremy. I pushed the button to close the window and put her unusual lapse in making sure I kept my feet firmly on the ground down to jet lag and excitement. After all, it had been a mad day. People stopped Jeremy every few minutes, some to get his autograph but more because they knew him, worked with him or were extremely famous themselves. We even got followed by the paparazzi for a bit and they took Jeremy’s photo, and even mine and Mum’s, when we went for lunch.

Mum and I thought it was rather funny to be followed around by press photographers when they couldn’t have known who we were. We made a game of changing hats, sunglasses and tops as we went from shop to shop, getting snapped in a new outfit each time we came out.

“Just ignore them,” Jeremy told us. “They take photos of me but they never get printed. I’m far too boring to make a tabloid story.”

And after a while the photographers disappeared in search of the snap that would earn them their fortune. I didn’t think I’d ever see one of the photos they took of us in print.

But I was wrong.

People’s Choice Magazine

IN THE KNOW brought to you by Valentina Brown. Bringing you all you need to know about Top Celebrities on a need to know to basis!

We love the English, and especially those Hollywood Brits. For years now IN THE KNOW has admired one Brit in particular, legendary actor Jeremy Fort. But is it possible that Mr Fort has recently lost the plot (just like his latest action movie)?

Yes, it’s incredible but true – IN THE KNOW can exclusively reveal that Jeremy Fort has ditched stunning supermodel Carenza Slavchenkov for a British mom and we’re not talking Madonna! (photo top left).

Our sources tell us that Janice Parker is the mother of English child actress wannabe Ruby Parker who features alongside Fort in the soon to be released The Lost Treasure of King Arthur. (And the studio’s hoping it does get lost!) Apparently, an onset friendship soon turned to romance over tea and English muffins, and good old Jerry has brought his ready-made family to La-La Land for the holidays. IN THE KNOW can confirm he was really splashing the cash on Ruby and her mom on Christmas Eve to the tune of $10,000.

It just goes to show that the British are the most eccentric race in the world. Only an Englishman would swap leggy lovely Carenza for a middle-aged fashion-disaster nobody. Perhaps next time you get out your credit card, Jeremy, you should treat Mrs Parker to a little nip and tuck for New Year?

Then again, perhaps other old Brit, William Shakespeare, summed it up best when he said, “Love is blind!”

Chapter Two

The first week in Hollywood passed in a flash. Before I knew it, it was nearly New Year’s Eve.

Until then Christmas had been nice. Or perhaps I should say wonderful because of all the effort that Jeremy and Augusto and Marie put in. But the best I can say is nice, because it was so different from the kind of Christmas I was used to and it would have taken a lot longer than one day to get used to it.

It wasn’t at all like being at home with Mum and Dad and Everest. Mum always used to insist that we all opened only one present before breakfast and then saved the rest till after lunch. But not in Jeremy’s house. We opened all the presents at once, first thing in the morning, creating a whirlwind of shiny paper and ribbon and lots of glittery sparkles that drove David mad.

The Chihuahua even had several gifts of his own, most of which were food-based. One was a sort of royal-blue satin throne bed with a little gold-painted wooden staircase leading up to the mattress. But David was more interested in ripping up the paper than lounging on the bed, which made him seem a bit more dog-like and a lot less evil nemesis.

As I opened my gifts I found the things I had picked out on Rodeo Drive and a whole lot more besides that somehow Mum and Jeremy had chosen without me knowing. Clothes, shoes – some even with a low heel and a bit of a pointy toe – and best of all a make-up set. I stared open-mouthed at my mum who never, ever let me wear make-up except for work or the occasional event.

“That’s from me,” she said with a smile. “I thought it was about time you had something to practise with. But not to be worn outside the house unless I say so, OK?”

“OK, Mum,” I said and immediately put on some green sparkly eyeshadow. I didn’t look exactly how Anne-Marie did when she wore it, but I was happy anyway.

And then Mum handed me something she had brought from home. I could tell because it was wrapped in normal penguin-in-a-bobble-hat Christmas paper, not covered in tons of ribbons and bows.

“From your dad,” she said. I took a breath and opened it.

It was a blue top from Miss Selfridge that I had shown Dad the last time we went out for lunch. I looked at it and suddenly I realised how much I missed him. My dad who went into a girls’ shop to buy a top he especially knew I wanted all on his own with no one to help him. The top probably cost a fraction of any of the other gifts that I had, but along with my make-up set it was the best one there.

I wanted to ring Dad and thank him. I looked at my watch and then at my mum. It was Just after ten in the morning here so it would be about teatime at home.

“Go on,” she said with a smile. “Call him and say Happy Christmas from me too.”

But when I dialled Dad’s number the phone just rang and rang, and I imagined his horrible, cold, empty grey flat all those thousands of miles away echoing with the sound. I tried his mobile next, but that went to voicemail. I supposed he couldn’t hear it at Granny’s. I didn’t leave a message because I thought that after the last time we spoke a message wasn’t right, so I padded back downstairs.

After presents came Christmas lunch. It was a bit like I imagine having Christmas at Buckingham Palace would be and was about as different from lunch at home as it could be. Jeremy’s dining room, with its mile-long shiny wooden table that could seat about thirty, was a universe apart from our kitchen table with the wobbly leg and the giant cat permanently installed under it in the hopes of pinching scraps. David did race up and down underneath the table, yapping for treats and nipping toes, but it wasn’t the same. I wondered what Everest would think of David and I decided that he would probably eat him.

Lunch was delicious though. Augusto and Marie, who were married but didn’t have any children yet, ate with us, which was really nice. The adults drank champagne and Augusto turned out to be very funny, telling us all about the famous neighbours and what they get up to when they think no one is looking. When I asked him how he knew all of these stories he looked very solemn and told me it was Chef’s Code and he could not reveal his sources.

“When chefs get together they are like a bunch of old women gossiping,” Marie said, chuckling.

After lunch Jeremy took us for a walk around his gardens. I trailed a little bit behind as he and Mum walked on ahead hand in hand, while David ran in and out of his legs, threatening to trip him up. They really did look comfortable, like a couple who had been together for years. It was strange: the more time I spent with Jeremy like this, off a film set and just sort of hanging about with him, the less I saw him as that dynamic, daring actor I admired so much. I mean I still admired and looked up to him, but it was like he was splitting into two people. Famous Jeremy Fort, former dater of supermodels, and just Jeremy, my mum’s middle-aged, slightly balding, easy-going boyfriend. If he had been an accountant he would have been a lot easier to get used to.

By the time I went to bed I was exhausted, but also glad that the day was over. Because as nice as it had been, I still missed that last Christmas with Mum and Dad and the stupid paper hats and Mum trying not to swear when the turkey wasn’t cooked on time. I wished I’d known it was going to be the last one we’d all have as a proper family, because I would have been more careful to remember every detail.

Just before I went to sleep I thought about trying to phone Dad again, but I decided it would be too early in the morning at home, so instead I climbed into my massive bed and stared at the ceiling. Then, after a while, I took all my pillows and piled them down at the bottom of the bed. I decided to sleep upside down. Perhaps it would help me get that holiday feeling back again.

It wasn’t until New Year’s Eve that we saw the column about Mum and Jeremy in People’s Choice Magazine. After a week of sightseeing and more shopping trips, we were having a quiet day before Mum and Jeremy went out to a party at a neighbour’s house. (And by neighbour I mean Catherine Zeta-Jones!) I had been invited but I decided to stay at home with Marie and Augusto, because as exciting as it might have been to get dressed up and see how many famous people I could spot (a lot), when it came down to it, it would still be an adult party with no one there for me to talk to. And Augusto and Marie were a lot of fun, plus Marie promised to make me her extra-special hot chocolate drink to toast the New Year in, if I could stay up that late. I said I’d try.

In fact, Mum and I had been picking out a dress for her to wear when we found out about the article. We might not have seen it at all (and things would have been so different if we hadn’t) except for Jeremy’s publicist, Michael White. I’d seen him around before on the set of The Lost Treasure of King Arthur, but I never really paid any attention to him because Jeremy seemed to think of him as more of a necessity than a boon and much preferred to deal with Lisa Wells, who was assistant director on the shoot. We were all in the main living area, with Mum parading up and down in various frocks, Jeremy reading through scripts and giving us his opinion every now and then, and me pretending that I was Tyra Banks on America’s Next Top Old Model when the doorbell chimed ‘God Save the Queen’. David went bananas, flying at the door like a four-legged spitfire.

Jeremy sighed when he realised it was Michael and he apologised to us as he got up and went to greet him. I noticed he let David nip at Michael’s ankles for quite a long time before calling the tiny dog off.

I watched them out of the corner of my eye while Mum tried to pick accessories for a bright pink silk dress that was her current favourite. Michael and Jeremy were talking as if they didn’t want anybody to hear what they were saying, their heads close together. Then Michael handed Jeremy a magazine and watched as he read it, rubbing his chin with his hand. Jeremy’s face grew red and he threw the magazine across the polished tiled floor so that it skidded to a stop by my mum’s feet.

“Ridiculous rag!” he bellowed. “This is outrageous. Janice isn’t a celebrity – she’s not putting herself in the spotlight! How dare they attack her?”

“Me?” Mum said with a puzzled smile. She put down the evening bag she had been carrying and picked up the magazine. Her eyes widened as she took in what she saw there.

“What is it, Mum?” I asked, but she Just stared at the magazine, her confusion turning into a look of horror.

Jeremy came and put his arm around her stiff shoulders. “Janice, I’m so sorry…”

“Perhaps,” Michael said, walking a few steps nearer, “they think that by dating you, Janice is putting herself in the public eye and making herself fair game.”

Frustrated, I took the magazine from Mum’s frozen fingers and read the column for myself.

“Look, Jeremy,” Michael went on, “as irritating and unkind as that is, what the studio and I are really worried about are those other comments. The press have already got it in for The Lost Treasure of King Arthur so this could be just the beginning. I think we need to schedule a meeting with them and Imogene’s people asap, start our publicity machine rolling and do some damage limitation.”

“Oh.” My mum finally spoke, her frozen expression suddenly thawing into tears. She sat down with a bump, her silk dress rustling around her. “Oh, I…I am sorry Jeremy,” she said. Her voice was small and she had two pink spots on her cheeks. “I’ve embarrassed you terribly.”

“But nothing they’ve written here is true, Mum!” I exclaimed as I finished reading. I wanted to hug her but I couldn’t unless I shoved Jeremy aside. “You are very fashionable,” I told her. “And you look great for your age and, OK, you’re not as beautiful as Carenza Slavchenkov, but you’re a normal mum not a supermodel!”

It was then my mum started to properly cry and I got the feeling I had made things worse. She turned her face into Jeremy’s shoulder and his arms enclosed her.

“What I meant to say was—” I tried again, but Michael spoke over me impatiently.

“Jeremy, we need to set up that meeting. We have to think about the movie.”

“And we will,” Jeremy said, his voice low as he held my mother. “But right now, Michael, you need to go.”

“I’ll call you,” Michael said, making a phone shape with his thumb and little finger and holding it to his ear.

“I have no doubt that you will,” Jeremy said heavily.

Mum was crying and Jeremy was hugging her and telling her he was so sorry that knowing him had put her in this position, and they seemed as if they were in their own separate world, a world I didn’t have a passport to. So I thought it was probably best if I just got out of the way for a while.

As I picked up the offending magazine and took it into the kitchen where Augusto was making sushi for lunch, I realised that David was scampering after me.

“Feeling left out too?” I asked the dog.

Of course he didn’t answer, but as his tiny nails clicked on the floor tiles I let myself think it was me he wanted to be with and not the scraps he might get in the kitchen. Because Just at that moment I needed a pal and even a rat dog was better than nothing.

“That’s pretty bad,” Augusto said when I showed him the magazine. “These journalists, they don’t think about anyone’s feelings. They don’t care as long as they’ve got something to write in their nasty little rags.”

“And it’s not fair,” I said. “Poor Mum, she’s really hurt. I know what it feels like to hear that people think you’re ugly. But she’s not. She’s just mum-looking, that’s all!”

“Which is a very beautiful way to look,” Augusto said.

“I tried to cheer her up, but I think I just made it worse,” I added miserably. “I don’t know what to say to her.”

“Just tell her that you love her,” Augusto said. “Telling someone that can never make them feel worse.”

“S’pose,” I said, looking towards the other room where Jeremy was probably doing exactly that. I wasn’t exactly jealous, but how could I tell Mum anything if she was always with him? I realised that I hadn’t spent any time on my own with her all holiday and, even more amazingly, I realised that I missed doing that. Even though usually it meant me doing the washing-up while she dried, or folding while she ironed, I liked talking things over with her. We hadn’t done that in ages.

“And that other stuff isn’t so good either,” Augusto said, wielding a large and very sharp knife as he thinly sliced some ginger. I wrinkled up my nose. I really didn’t like the idea of raw fish for lunch.

“What other stuff?” I asked him, eyeing some bright orange, globular fish roe suspiciously.

“About the movie, your movie! They are bad-mouthing the film before it even opens and that can’t be good.”

“What?” I said. I picked up the magazine and read the piece again.

“Oh,” I said heavily. I had been too busy being cross to notice it before. “But it can’t be that bad, can it? A couple of nasty comments in one magazine?”

Augusto raised an eyebrow. “If they want to, the press can sink a great film and make a success out of a real turkey.”

He offered me a salmony-Iooking thing and I backed away hastily. To my surprise David Jumped up on to my lap, digging his bony little feet into my thighs, and looked hard at Augusto as if to say he’d try anything I wouldn’t. Augusto threw him a scrap of fish which he caught deftly between his teeth and then waited hopefully for more. I stroked his bony back, which was not nearly as soft as Everest’s, but his warmth on my lap was still quite comforting.

“But why? Why would they want to do that?” I asked, shaking my head.

“Because their only concern is to sell magazines and if they were always lovely to everyone then nobody would buy any. It’s sad but true, Ruby. It’s the meanness and the cruelty that sells copies. The A-list actress who looks fat in a dress, the latest marriage to fail after only six months, the illustrious careers that tumble and fall over one ‘bad’ film.”

“But that wouldn’t happen to Jeremy,” I said. “He’s a British institution, even if he is my mum’s boyfriend. Or to Imogene Grant. Imogene is real star.”

“No, it wouldn’t happen to Jeremy,” Augusto agreed. “Or Miss Grant, but for other actors, younger actors, maybe who were just starting out – well it could mean their career is ended before it even really began.”

“Oh,” I said, eyes wide. “Well, that would be terrible. I mean, you spend all that time working hard on a—” I stopped talking and looked at Augusto. “Like me, you mean?” I asked, feeling sick in the pit of my stomach.

“Don’t worry, Ruby,” Augusto said. “If anyone can turn things around it’s Jeremy and, like you say, it’s only a few comments in one magazine. It might be nothing to worry about at all.” He smiled his big warm smile at me, but I thought about the conversation that Micheal had just had with Jeremy and I didn’t feel very much better.

“I can see by the look on your face that you aren’t really looking forward to my sushi,” Augusto said sympathetically. “Anything else I can whip you up for lunch?”

“A plane ticket home?” I asked him miserably. “I think I’m finished in Hollywood.”

“Don’t be silly,” Augusto told me. “You haven’t even begun yet.”

Suddenly David leapt up and, putting his paws on my shoulder, licked my neck.

“Look, even David’s trying to make you feel better,” Augusto said with a chuckle. “You’re honoured that dog likes you.”

“Either that,” I said, squirming “or he wants to eat me.”

When I went back to tell Mum and Jeremy the sushi was ready, Mum seemed happier and brighter, even though her face was still smudged with tears.

“You’re sure that’s what you want?” Jeremy was asking her as I approached. He had one hand on each shoulder as he looked into her eyes. “Because I want you to know that I think you are utterly perfect exactly the way you are. “

I nearly turned round and walked back out the room to simultaneously die of embarrassment and throw up. But my curiosity won out and I stood my ground. I wanted to know what it was that Mum was absolutely sure about.

“I am,” Mum said with a brave little smile. “And besides, if I am going to be with you, then I have to be prepared for this kind of attention.”

At that point I realised that Jeremy was probably going to kiss my mum in front of me, possibly with tongues and everything. I like to think that I’ve been quite cool about things like my dad’s so-called girlfriend and my mum’s megastar man, but witnessing that would be a step too far.

“A-hem!” I coughed loudly enough to make the pair Jump apart and had to suppress a smirk. “The raw fish thing is served, but I’m having a cheese toastie because frankly it looks disgusting to me.”

Jeremy and Mum smiled indulgently at me and as we walked back to the kitchen Jeremy patted me on the back and said, “Are you sure, Ruby? It’s good to broaden your horizons, you know, take a chance every now and then.”

“Yes,” I agreed. “And I want to do that, but I don’t want to eat raw fish. Because it’s fish and it’s raw.”

I waited for either one of them to tell me what they had been talking about, but they clearly weren’t going to. “So?” I asked as we sat down at the table and I saw my mum looking rather fondly at my cheese toastie. “What have you two decided?”

“Oh!” Mum said, looking at Jeremy in a secretive way I didn’t like at all, like I was an outsider. “Nothing much. We were just planning what to do after New Year. Jeremy says we’ve got to make the most of our time left here. I am going to a day spa and salon to have a few treatments, get my hair and nails done, that sort of thing…”

“Really?” I said, thinking a few highlights and some false nails might make her feel better. “Good idea. Am I coming too? Can I go blonde, please, Mum? I am nearly fourteen.”

Jeremy smiled. “No, Ruby, you are coming with me. While you were helping Augusto, I phoned Michael. You and I are going into Wide Open Universe Studios. We’re going to watch a screening of The Lost Treasure of King Arthur, and talk about publicity with Art and Imogene and all the studio people.”

“Are we?” I cheered up. “It will be nice to see Imogene again, and Art – but what about Harry?” Harry McLean was Imogene’s leading man, although I never really got to know him very well as he spent a lot of time in his trailer.

“Ah, nooo, I’m afraid not,” Jeremy said, looking down at his sushi. “He’s not very well at the moment. He’s in a special type of hospital getting better.”

“Better from what?” I asked him.

“Well – let’s just say that too much of anything is bad for you, Ruby,” Jeremy told me with a shrug.

“Even sushi?” I asked him, annoyed not only that he wouldn’t tell me, but that he wouldn’t tell me in such a smug way. After all, I’d had plenty of experience with celebrity health problems before. Brett Summers, my old TV mum, was always in and out of clinics because of her intolerance to alcohol, and Imogene Grant had told me herself about the eating disorder that had nearly killed her. And even though she isn’t quite a celebrity yet, even my best friend Nydia had collapsed and banged her head badly because she’d stopped eating to try and make herself thin. I knew what the pressures of fame could do to a person. I didn’t need Jeremy to keep it from me.

“Anyway” Jeremy went on, smiling at me like I was next door’s toddler, “perhaps if there is time we might be able to show you the set of my new film. The actors are all still on break, but you’ll enjoy seeing the sets, won’t you?”

I should have been over the moon. I should have been cart-wheeling in excitement, but nobody, except possibly David, seemed to have noticed how the events of that morning, the column in People’s Choice Magazine and its sly digs at The Lost Treasure of King Arthur, might affect me. All of that, topped off with Jeremy and Mum kissing, and his smug, smiling ways had put me in a sulk.

“Whatever,” I said quite rudely, pushing my plate away so that it skidded across the polished granite surface. “So for the rest of today I can do what I like, right?”

They nodded, Mum with her thin lips pressed together and a “I’ll talk to you later, young lady” look on her face.

“Can I phone Dad then?” I asked.

“Of course you can, Ruby,” Jeremy answered. “Use the phone in your room if you want to be private.”

“I was going to anyway,” I said, knowing I sounded childish, but not quite able to stop myself. “And then I’m going to see if I have any e-mails and I might have a swim after and then I’ll…” I looked around the room for something else to list. “I’ll take David for a walk. I expect I’ll be busy until dinner, so don’t worry about me – if you were going to anyway, which I doubt. Oh, and Happy New Year!”

And then I flounced. I flounced out of the kitchen and up the stairs and (because I was too busy flouncing with my chin in the air) I flounced into the laundry cupboard and slammed its door shut. Hoping they hadn’t realised, I waited for a moment or two and then ran down the hall to where my room really was and slammed that door too for good measure.

It was a horrible way to behave. Rude and, as my mum would no doubt tell me later, very unattractive. But I couldn’t help it. That was the way I felt. I was all churned up and cross, and I suppose a bit jealous and left out, and I didn’t like it.

I found the phone next to the bed and the piece of paper Jeremy had written down the international dialling code on for me and dialled Dad’s number.

It would be evening back at home, so I was certain that Dad would answer. I was wrong.

It was Dad’s so-called girlfriend who answered.

From: Danny[dharuey@breakaleg.co.uk]

To: Ruby [rparker@beverlyhills.com]

Subject: Re: Hello

Hi Ruby

How is it going over there? Sorry I haven’t e-mailed sooner I’ve been really busy with the new family that have just started on Kensington Heights because I have a lot of scenes with the daughter, a girl our age called melody Butler. She’s playing a character called Lacey St Claire. I spent Christmas Day at my dad’s this year which was quite a laugh as my little brother is still really into it and nearly had a heart attack when he saw Dad had got him a bike! And then I spent Boxing Day at my mum’s which was DK. I got some good presents. Rn mp3 player [but not an iPod], some trainers and, wait for it…R Christmas number one! I know it’s amazing, isn’t it? I can’t believe that Liz finally talked me into recording that awful song, but anyway now Kensington Heights [Vou take me to…] is a hit and it was only released the week before Christmas! I don’t know what they did to my awful voice, but it sounds all right and loads of people bought it! There is even talk about an album, but I don’t know about that.

I bet you are seeing loads of celebrities and forgetting about all of us little people! Looking forward to seeing you in a few days.

Danny

PS Nydia did an audition for this part on a new CBBC show called Totally Busted.

Chapter Three

At first when I heard a woman’s voice I thought I must have the wrong number so I said, “Sorry, I thought this was Frank Parker’s number.”

But Just before I could put the phone down the female voice stopped me. “It is! It is Frank’s number. Hello – is that Ruby? I’m Denise.”

I said nothing for what seemed like a long time.

“Denise,” the voice on the other end of the phone said again, sounding totally natural and even quite amused. “Your father’s so-called girlfriend.”

I felt my cheeks burning pink and thanked my lucky stars that she couldn’t see me. It was one thing to have a fairly rude nickname for a person behind their backs, but it was another thing entirely to realise that the person knew about it. I couldn’t believe my dad had told her, especially when she was now supposed to be his ex so-called girlfriend. I couldn’t work out why she was there at all.

“The thing is,” I said, “I’m calling from America and it is probably costing my mum’s so-called boyfriend a lot of money, so can I talk to Dad, please?”

Denise laughed. “I like you, Ruby,” she said. “Very direct.”

“You haven’t even met me,” I said. At least my dad hadn’t forced that particular ordeal on me. Yet. Maybe by half term I’d find myself on a wet and windy beach in Brighton with so-called Denise. Well, if she liked direct, I’d give her direct.

“I thought you and Dad had split up?” I said. I would never normally ask an adult that kind of question in that kind of way, but as she was so far away it didn’t quite seem real.

Denise laughed again. “Oh no, dear, we Just had a misunderstanding. It’s all cleared up now.”

“Can you put Dad on, please?” I asked.

“Can’t, love. He’s popped out to the shop. He’ll be back in a few minutes. We could chat while we wait if you like. I’m sure Jeremy Fort can afford it.” Denise laughed. I did not. And I couldn’t actually believe what came out of my mouth next.

“Yes, he can afford it,” I said, sounding exactly like I thought Anne-Marie did when she was giving someone the brush off. “But I don’t want to talk to you.”

I put down the phone and for about fifteen seconds I felt quite pleased with myself. And then I remembered that I phoned Dad to try and make up with him, and that being rude to his ex- or un-ex-so-called girlfriend was not the best way to go about it.

I didn’t know what was wrong with me. OK, I was feeling a bit fed up about Mum and Jeremy, and worried about what People’s Choice Magazine said about the film (and my mum). But I wasn’t acting like me at all. I’m not rude to people and I don’t talk back, and I never put the phone down on someone after insulting them because I’m me, Ruby Parker – really bad at rebelling. Maybe my mum was right to be worried about me keeping my feet on the ground because suddenly I felt untethered, as if I was careering off in all directions like a popped balloon. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t know how to stop it.

I thought about picking up the phone again and saying sorry to Denise, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I knew that the next time I spoke to or saw Dad I was going to be in really big trouble with him. I half expected him to call here and tell my mum how dreadful I’d been. So I decided not to phone back. I’d face the music when I saw him and we could make up then, because hopefully by then I’d be me again.

That’s when I checked my e-mails on the laptop in my room. There was only one e-mail in my inbox and I was glad to see it was from Danny. When I saw his name there my heart skipped a beat and I smiled to myself.

At least I could rely on Danny. He was a good friend and even though we’d nearly split up that time he thought that I was in love with Sean Rivers we had stuck together.

I couldn’t believe his news! I knew that Liz Hornby, the producer, had finally persuaded Danny to record the Kensington Heights theme tune as a song because Nydia and I went along with him to the studio when he made it.

Me and Nydia had laughed all day because as lovely as Danny is, and as good-looking, he really can’t sing at all. He did about a million takes and each one seemed worse than the last. Even Danny was laughing about it and said that the only hope of saving his career was if the record was so bad it sank without anybody ever hearing it.

Well, it looks like that didn’t happen. It occurred to me that maybe Danny was Joking, so I logged on to the UK Top 40. Sure enough there it was in black and white: 1. Danny Harvey Kensington Heights (You take me to…).

I was going out with a proper pop star (or quite possibly a proper one-hit wonder, but anyway, I didn’t care). I was proud of him.

Suddenly, I wanted to speak to Danny really badly and I looked at the phone. Mum and Jeremy had said I could call Dad. They hadn’t exactly said I couldn’t call anybody else, but then again they hadn’t definitely said I could call who I liked and Mum was strict about our bill at home (including my mobile) so I was fairly sure she wouldn’t approve.

I supposed I could go downstairs and ask permission to call Danny, but that would mean finding them, possibly interrupting them mid tongue-type kissing and then having to say sorry and be nice, something I was having trouble doing just now. Anyway, feeling uncharacteristically rebellious once again, I decided that, as Dad’s so-called and apparently not ex-girlfriend had said, Jeremy could afford it.

“You’re a genius,” I said as soon as I heard Danny’s voice.

“Oh, Rube!” he said a little hesitantly as if caught off guard. “Hiya! What a nice surprise!” I was happy at how pleased to hear from me he sounded. “It’s mad, isn’t it? My rubbish record at number one! I’ll never have any rock credibility ever again.”

“You never did anyway,” I laughed. “But seriously, Danny – that’s amazing. Wait till you get back to school. Michael Henderson is going to die with Jealousy.”

“I think he already has over Anne-Marie and Sean.” Danny paused. “So how was your Christmas?” he asked.

“Weird,” I said. “Jeremy and Mum are like the geriatric version of Anne-Marie and Sean, all gooey and ooey and I love you, I love you, I love you!”

“Seriously?” Danny said, chuckling.

“Well, I haven’t actually heard them say the ‘I love you’ thing, but I wouldn’t be surprised. The ooey and gooey stuff is a horrific fact I have to live with on a daily basis. But I suppose Mum needed it today. The paparazzi took a photo of her and it got printed in this horrible magazine that said horrible things about her. “

“That’s dreadful, Ruby,” Danny said. “Is she OK?”

“The thing is I don’t know. She seems all right, but she hasn’t really talked to me about it. Jeremy’s looked after her and tomorrow she’s going to get her hair and nails done. She’ll be OK,” I said. “Back to normal Mum settings soon.”

Danny laughed. “So, Ruby Parker, how’s America? Is it as exciting and as glam as you thought it would be?”

I thought about the article in People’s Choice Magazine.

“It is, but it’s also much more like being in a foreign country than I thought it would be. No, scrap that, it’s like being on another planet. Even Jeremy’s different here – he’s even got a celebrity dog!” I said, making Danny laugh as I told him about my first meeting with David. His laugh made my tummy tense.

“I miss you,” I mumbled before I knew what I’d said.

“When are you back?” Danny asked me, without telling me he missed me too.

“About a week. We fly home on January 6th,” I told him. “I’m actually looking forward to going back to school.”

“Me too,” Danny said, and I thought I could hear a smile in his voice. “OK then, Ruby, I’ll see you in a week.”

I knew he was being all cool and offhand because once I had told him that he carried on like Romeo out of Romeo and Juliet, all overdramatic and far too serious. He had taken that information to heart. A little bit too close to heart, I sometimes felt, especially now when I felt so lonely and he seemed so far away.

“I’ll see you then,” I said, wanting to say more but not knowing how to.

“Ciao, baby,” Danny said in an appalling Italian accent and then he was gone.

I felt better and worse when I put the phone down. Better because talking to Danny had cheered me up, but worse because I couldn’t Just go round to his house to watch TV, or meet him at the café on the corner for hot chocolate, or try to outrun screaming mobs of ten-year-olds with him. And I missed that.

Just then I heard a strange scraping and scratching outside my room, and a high-pitched whimper. I got up and opened the door. David trotted in and with some effort scrambled up on to my bed, and after turning three clockwise circles, he curled up in a tiny ball, his nose on his paws, and looked at me.

“I haven’t got any food in here,” I told him. “And I’ve put all of my shoes out of your reach since the trainer incident so you might as well go.”

But David didn’t move an inch. As I gingerly sat back down on the bed I expected him to attack me at any moment, but he didn’t. All he did was get up to move closer to me, turn in three clockwise circles again and then curl up into another little ball, only this time with his tiny body pressed right against mine.

I didn’t know why David the dog had decided to stop trying to eat me and my possessions and start trying to be my friend, but just at that moment I was really happy that he had.

David and I spent the rest of the afternoon exactly as I said I would. We wandered about the garden and I threw a tennis ball for him which he would chase, but which was too big for him to get his Jaws around and bring back, so I ended up throwing it and fetching with David at my heels. Then I went for a swim in the pool while David stood at the edge, his little legs trembling. Once I’d dried off, we walked down Jeremy’s long, tree-lined drive and peeped out between the wrought-iron railings of his security gates. The sweep of the road was completely silent, and with the view shrouded by trees, I thought that I could be anywhere in the world.

David could easily have slipped out between the railings, but he seemed quite content to stay where he was.

“You’re small and rather annoying,” I said to him. “But I can’t imagine how anybody could ever throw you out on to the street. It must have been horrible for you feeling so alone and left out in the cold, even though it’s mainly hot here. You’re lucky someone kind like Jeremy found you and took you in.”

On impulse I picked David up and carried him back to the house. After all, everyone deserves a helping hand now and again. And the heat of his little body against mine took my mind off what was really worrying me.

Tomorrow was the day that I would really find out what this town was about. Tomorrow would be crunch time for Ruby Parker, film actress.

It was when David and I came down to find food that Mum finally accosted me. “I hope you know how ashamed I am of you, young lady,” she said, stopping at the foot of the stairs and crossing her arms. I looked at her in her Jeans and T-shirt and I realised what was wrong – no sparkly pink silk dress.

“Aren’t you getting ready? You’ll be late for the Zeta-Jones-Douglas’s,” I said.

Mum shook her head. “There is no way I can go to something like that when I look like this,” she gestured at herself. “Everyone will have seen that magazine and if they don’t laugh in my face, they will behind my back. No, I need to make a few adjustments before my next public appearance.”

“You don’t, Mum,” I said. “Honestly. You look lovely and Jeremy fell for you, not some glossy plastic-looking model.”

Mum’s smile softened her face but I could see she was determined to tell me off. “Stop trying to change the subject,” she said firmly.

“What subject?” I asked, trying my best to look innocent. “Hey look, me and David have made friends! I’m thinking of changing his name to Fido. That way he might not be embarrassed to hang out with the other dogs on the street.”

“Ruby.” Mum tried her best not to smile, forcing a frown that was not nearly as scary as it should be. “You were very rude to Jeremy earlier, to someone who I thought you liked and respected as a friend. Jeremy has been very generous and kind to you.”

“I know,” I said, dropping my chin. “And I’m sorry, Mum, I really am. It’s just that since we got here—”

“After all, Ruby, if you want to be treated like an adult you have to act like one,” Mum went on, clearly intent on getting all of her best lines into my lecture before she’d let me go. “It’s unattractive to see a girl of your age sulking and pouting like a three-year-old. I have not brought you up to be a prima donna and if I thought that for one minute experiencing all this is going to change you then—”

“It’s not me who’s changing,” I said. “I mean, it is me a bit. I know I’ve not been myself lately. But it’s because everything else is changing. You’re changing, Mum. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I like to see you so happy – well, mostly happy. It’s Just that you and Jeremy are always together and I feel…out of it and that made me sulk and be rude. I’m sorry.”

My mum looked at me for a moment and then hugged me very tightly so that my ribs ached, and David wriggled out of my arms and scampered off to safety.

“Oh, Ruby, I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have realised. It must be hard for you to see me with someone apart from your dad.”

“It is a bit,” I said. “I do like Jeremy, I really do, but I like him better at home in our house where he’s the guest and he doesn’t seem so…”

“So what?” Mum asked me, keeping her voice level.

“Smug,” I said with a shrug. To my relief Mum laughed before making her face go serious again.

“Jeremy is not smug, and even if he was, that would be no excuse for rudeness, young lady. Jeremy really cares for you and he’s told me he thinks that you have real talent, talent that could go all the way.” I saw a glint of something in Mum’s eyes then, as if for the first time she was really excited instead of just anxious about what the future might hold for me. “Look at what he’s doing for you tomorrow,” she went on. “Taking you to the studio, introducing you to a lot of important people – people who could really make your career.”

“I know. And that’s exciting but…well, I don’t know, Mum. Sometimes I think…” I trailed off.

“What?” Mum asked, but I didn’t want to say the thought that had popped into my head because it was the first time I had ever had it, and if it had taken me by surprise, then it certainly would my mum.

“Oh, nothing,” I said. “I’m tired and in a muddle.”

“OK, Rubes,” Mum said and she ruffled my hair exactly the way she knows I hate and kissed me on the forehead. “Well, at least you can stay up with and see the new year in with us. We’ve got hot chocolate all round.”

“That sounds nice,” I said. “Although I might not make it to midnight after all.”

Mum put her arm around me as we walked together to find Jeremy and the hot chocolate.

“You know what, Ruby,” my mum said. “I think this New Year is going to be the most amazing one yet.

It’s Your Life!

The magazine for girls that have really got it going on

WHAT MAKES A HOT CHICK HOT?

Top five tips on how to be fabulous and fiery like some of our favourite teen stars.

1 BE FABULOUS! Take actress Adrienne Charles who plays Natalie Green, the meanest girl in hit TV series Hollywood High. Adrienne’s character might be cruel, unkind, unscrupulous and unhinged, but in real life this girl is a sweetie. 5he always knows just what fabulous thing to wear and when to wear it, and Adrienne’s work with animal welfare charities shows us all her fabulous true colours.

2 BE THE BEST! While we’re talking about Hollywood High, how about Nadine Navarro? There’s a girl we can all take a tip from. Nadine might play feisty and fun cheerleading heroine Sabrina Silkwood in the show, but in real life she still plays competitive soccer to the highest standard for her school and is tipped to be picked as one of the national team’s under-eighteen side. You rock, Nadine!

3 NEVER GIVE UP! Sometimes life is hard. Just look at new-to-the-big-screen actress 5unny Dale. 5unny couldn’t have had a worse start to life, losing both her parents in a tragic accident when she was only three years old. Growing up poor was hard for Sunny, but she overcame it all with her strength and determination to follow her dream. And It’s Your Life! has heard that Sunny is tipped to be at the top after her amazing performance in the new Brit flick A Very English Affair, due to hit our screens later this year. Way to go nailing that British accent, Sunny!

4 BE FIERCE! You know it’s true, it doesn’t matter what sort of day you are having as long as you give it fierce attitude. Take this month’s cover girl, Samaniha Haven. Her heart must have been broken when her rumored boyfriend, super-hoi 5ean Rivers, disappeared last year, announcing his retirement from the movie indusiry. But do you see a miserable girl before you? No, you see a fabulous, fierce lady giving life her very best shot!

5 THINK BIG! You’ve seen all of the greai girls we’ve featured in this week’s issue of It’s Your Life! None of them ever had small dreams. They wanted to get to the top from the very start, and through hard work and talent they are making it. And you can make it too, in any walk of life you choose, as a surgeon, an explorer or maybe even an actress too. Bui you have to think big and dream big and never let those dreams go!

Chapter Four

I picked up a copy of It’s Your Life! on the way to the studio with Jeremy when he asked his driver to stop on the corner so he could get a copy of The Times from a newsstand. Not the LA Times, but the London Times. Jeremy told me he misses it when he’s not living in Britain. He likes the rain, the rude and miserable people and the buildings. I looked out of the window with my big sunglasses at the faultless blue sky and I wondered what on earth he was going on about.

I wondered who all these actresses they were talking about were. I hadn’t seen an episode of Hollywood High although before we left home Channel 4 were trailing it as coming up on UK TV in the spring. I looked at the pictures of the featured actresses. All were about my age. Each one looked amazingly glossy. I mean their hair, their lips, their skin, their teeth, their nails and even their clothes seemed to shine. It was a sort of perfect finish that most TV actors, especially teens, just don’t have in Britain (except some on Hollyoaks, maybe).

And then I read the bit about Sunny Dale. Jeremy was acting in a film with her and he had never even told me. When I asked him what A Very English Affair was about, he said it was really just about old people’s love lives. Not a mention of Sunny or any part in the film for a thirteen-year-old British girl that perhaps the daughter of his girlfriend could have at least auditioned for.

“So what’s this Sunny Dale like then?” I asked him. “Apart from having a name that makes her sound like a brand of yoghurt.”

Jeremy looked up from his paper and thought for a moment.

“Sunny? Well, I can’t say I know her. I only have a few scenes with her. But she struck me as a very determined young lady. She used to live on a trailer park, you know, but now she and her aunt live in a great big place not far from mine. Funnily enough, her career did start out with advertising dairy products.”

“I thought you were supposed to name stuff after actresses, not the actresses after stuff,” I said sarcastically.

There she was again, that Ruby who was not Ruby, being really quite jealous and rude about a girl for no good reason.

“Well, she’s a big name in TV over here and everyone relates to her story. And she’s a really hard worker.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling rather stupid.

Jeremy smiled at me over the top of his reading glasses. “It’s all been a bit of a whirlwind, hasn’t it?” he said. “I hope that your mum being with me doesn’t make you unhappy, Ruby?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t. It’s not you, Jeremy, although it is kind of odd seeing someone as famous as you hanging out with my mother. I’m not even unhappy. It just takes a bit of getting used to I suppose, all of this…” I gestured at the cream-leather interior of his chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce. “And I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Jeremy said. “Be happy. You only have a few days left here, Ruby, so make the most of them, OK? Your life will be back to normal before you know it.”

I showed Jeremy the photos in the magazine, of Sunny Dale and the rest. “I’m glad it will be because I’ll never look like that,” I said. “They are so polished and perfect and I’m…” I looked down at myself in my white jeans that had a bit of breakfast on them and my pink cardigan that had the buttons done up all wrong. “I’m me,” I said with a shrug.

Jeremy smiled and shook his head. “Trust me, Ruby, none of those girls look like that either, not in normal life. Magazines like to do two things: find photos of normal-looking people and make them look terrible, as you and your mum both unfortunately know, or they airbrush celebrities until they become the media’s version of perfect, with no flaws or extra weight. And as for TV and film, well, you know, Ruby – it’s all about lighting and make-up.”

I thought about Brett Summers, my former TV mother. It was true that while I was working on Kensington Heights with her, it did always take much longer to light her sets and do her make-up then anyone else. And whenever she appeared on the front of the TV guide she did always look about ten years younger.

Suddenly, the car slowed down and I looked out of the window. We had stopped at the security gate of Wide Open Universe Studios. It looked, from the outside at least, like a giant whitewashed Arabian castle, with a line of palm trees growing along the perimeter.

“From the 1930s to the late 1960s this place was the hub of the movie world, literally the centre of the film universe,” Jeremy told me as we were driven slowly into the complex. “Back then it was the most powerful studio in the world. It owned all the big stars and paid them a regular wage. They used to make hundreds of films here every year. It’s not like that now. Studios have to be very careful about which projects they pick to back. They are always looking for the next big thing. They always need to see a return on their investment. It’s a tighter, more difficult industry to break into now than it has ever been, Ruby. That’s why, if this is what you really want, you have to grasp every chance that comes your way because if you let even one pass you by, it might be the moment that could have changed everything.”

“Dream big and never let those dreams go,” I said under my breath, quoting It’s Your Life!. That’s what those other girls did; Adrienne Charles and Sunny Dale and the rest. The question was – could I do the same?

Jeremy’s car slowed down and came to a halt outside another ornate white building.

“This is where we are going for the screening,” Jeremy said. “And then to talk to Art and the others. Are you excited yet? This is the first time you’ll have seen yourself on film since the rushes back in London, isn’t it? And now it will have all the proper effects in place and the real score. It should be quite something.”

“I am excited,” I said as I climbed out of the car and looked up at the building. “And I’m scared too. What if I’m rubbish?”

But Jeremy didn’t answer me.

We saw Art Dubrovnik first, in the foyer of the screening room, deep in discussion with a very large, tall and quite wide man in a pale blue suit.

“Ruby!” Art said and gave me a big friendly hug. As Art and Jeremy shook hands and exchanged greetings, Imogene arrived with her PA, Clarice, and a few other people I didn’t know, but who I imagined were publicists and agents, a proper Hollywood entourage.

“Hey you!” Imogene said, beaming. She hugged me and kissed me on both cheeks, proper slightly sticky lip—glossy kisses, not the “Mwah! Mwah!” air kisses that actresses often exchange.

“Let me look at you.” Imogene held me by the shoulders and looked me up and down. “You look fabulous. How are you feeling – are you excited? Are you nervous?”

I laughed, made giddy by the whirlwind that was Imogene Grant. It was nice that she was so pleased to see me, but there was something else about her too. She was glowing with joy.

“You look lovely. And really, really happy. Have you found the secret to a perfect cheese and salad sandwich?” I asked her, joking about the lunches we used to share on the set of The Lost Treasure of King Arthur.

Imogene flashed me a grin and then drew me aside so that we stood just out of earshot of the gathering crowd of people. “Can you keep a secret?” she asked.

I nodded excitedly as Imogene looked around to check for eavesdroppers and then took a long silver chain out from under her white cotton shirt. Dangling on it like a pendant was a ring set with the biggest diamond I had ever seen. (And, Just recently, I had seen quite a lot of diamonds one way or another.)

“I’m engaged,” she told me in a giggly whisper. “But it’s top secret. You mustn’t tell anyone or the paparazzi will be all over me like flies and it will be spoiled. I know they’ll get hold of the story eventually, but not yet, not until I’m ready. For now this is just my secret treasure to keep locked away in here.”

She patted her chest and I was wondering how she kept anything locked in there when I realised she meant her heart.

“Who to?” I asked her, keeping my voice low and looking round. Imogene’s smile was radiant as she leant forward and whispered a name in my ear.

“WOW!” I said. “I didn’t even know you were going out with him!”

Imogene laughed. “That, Ruby,” she said, “was the point. It’s extremely hard keeping stuff like this a secret so, please, not word. Promise?”

“I promise,” I said solemnly. She slipped the ring she could not wear back under her top and we went back to the throng that was waiting to see the screening.

Michael White had arrived and a few other people that Jeremy knew, including the large man in the pale blue suit who everybody seemed to gather around, including Art. The last to arrive was Lisa Wells, who was talking on the phone as she swept into the viewing room, smiling and winking at me as she went past.

“OK, guys!” Art called out as we filed into the viewing room, which was a bit like a miniature cinema. “Take your seats. Sit back and enjoy.”

I listened as the swell of the opening music played over the titles of the film and then I leant back in my seat and held my breath.

Preview Report compiled by Lisa Wells for Art Dubrovnik

The Lost Treasure of King Arthur Directed by Art Dubrovnik Starring Imogene Grant, Jeremy Fort, Harry Mclean and Sean Rivers Introducing Ruby Parker

 Test audiences in theaters scored the film quite highly with an overall mark of 8/10

 For Thrilling Action they gave it an overall score of 9/10

 For Plot they gave it an overall score of 7/10

 73% said that the plot was sometimes hard to follow

 For actors’ performances they gave it an overall score of 7/10

 48% would go and see it for Imogene Grant, regardless

 9 4% enjoyed her performance

 89% enjoyed Jeremy Fort in the role of Professor Darkly

 72% were disappointed by Harry McLean, but we have to take into consideration his recent fall in popularity

 68% came purely for Sean Rivers in case it was his last film. This alone should ensure a healthy box-office turnover

 78% of the test audiences thought that the young actress Ruby Parker made an impressive debut

 As an Art Dubrovnik film they scored it 6/10

 54% stated they preferred Mr Dubrovnik’s less commercial work. But when asked again to score the film purely on entertainment and enjoyment factor the score went up to 8/10

These scores were compiled from results taken from fifty screenings shown nationwide and represent the views of approximately 5000 people over a wide demographic.

As the credits rolled I leapt out of my seat and applauded wildly. It took me a minute or two to realise I was the only one doing it.

“Sorry,” I said, feeling myself blush. “It’s not cool to applaud yourself, is it?”

Imogene laughed and stood up to Join me. “Sometimes it is,” she said, starting to clap. Gradually, everyone else in the room joined in and we all gave ourselves a standing ovation. Maybe it was a bit like “blowing your own trumpet” as my granny would say, but I thought that considering I had just seen myself for the first time in a proper film I could be let off.

I sat down again as the adults talked. I couldn’t quite believe what I had seen. It was me, but not me. At first, while I was watching, all I could think of was what had happened on the day when that particular scene had been shot, or spotting that I had been wearing costume number four. (I had worn the same school uniform for most of the filming, except that there were thirty-two different versions, each one in a worse state of repair than the last depending on where I was in the story.) Or I found myself thinking that my face looked a bit funny from that camera angle, especially when it was blown up a gazillion times, so you could see all the pores on my nose.

But then I finally saw the shot of my character Polly Harris as she dangled off what now really looked like a real precipice with a fatal drop below. I saw Polly leap into midair and disappear into the black void to her certain death. From that minute on I wasn’t watching me any more. I was watching the film. And perhaps I am biased, but I thought it was pretty good.

The lights went up and as we sat back down in our seats Lisa handed out sheets of A4 paper. As I read it took a while for me to understand what it was because I had no idea that reports like this even existed.

“Well, Art,” the big man in the blue suit who got to sit in the front row said, “I think that has a chance of being a box-office winner, I really do. Despite everything.”

“Thanks, Jim,” Art said.

“It’s a little long,” the man called Jim said, and I held my breath, certain that Art would lose his temper at such an offensive comment. Art was a perfectionist; he never got anything wrong.

But all Art did was nod, adding mildly, “I think I can safely trim about ten minutes off and also improve the audience’s understanding of the plot.”

“And that’s why we pay you what we do, Art. And it seems that the audience will love it,” Jim said, gesturing at the piece of paper in his hand, “if they ever go and see it.”

“But why wouldn’t they?” I asked, conscious a second or two later that as a thirteen-year-old and the least important person here, I probably shouldn’t be saying anything. The man in the pale blue suit called Jim twisted in his seat to look at me.

“Miss Parker,” he said, offering me a plump hand. “Pleased to meet you, I don’t think you and I have been formally introduced. I’m Jim Honeycutt, head of Wide Open Universe.”

“Oh,” I replied, awestruck. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. I shouldn’t have said anything…”

“On the contrary, Miss Parker,” Mr Honeycutt said. “It’s a question that needs to be addressed even if I think that by now most of us know the answer…”

“I don’t,” I said before I could stop myself.

“Quite.” Jim Honeycutt looked very serious. “The critics hate it. Or should I say, they want to hate it. Nobody wanted Art to do anything different. They feel he has betrayed his art-house roots to make money…”

“That’s not true,” Art said crossly. “All I wanted to do was make a quality entertainment picture, to show all those other bozos out there how to do it…”

“I know, Art, I know,” Jim soothed him with a wave of his giant hands. “And a lot of people are angry about Harry Mclean. And, most significantly some people, namely one Mr Pat Rivers, is blaming this film for pushing his cash pot of a son into what he alleges is a nervous breakdown and ruining his career.”

“Well, that’s just rubbish,” I said. “Sean is incredibly happy at the moment, not nervous or broken down at all.”

“Might have to quote you on that, Ruby,” Lisa said, making a note on her clipboard.

“But you can’t,” I replied. “I promised Sean I wouldn’t talk about him to anyone. He wants to be out of the spotlight.”

“Well, we’ll see,” Jim said as if he hadn’t completely understood me. “We might need that young man and he did sign a contract with publicity obligations. And although the nation loves Imogene, she’s been at the top for a long time now. It could be the critics are Just waiting for a chance to knock her down.”

“But that’s horrid,” I said in a small voice. “And it’s not true; it’s a good film and Imogene is the best thing in it.”

“That might be so, Miss Parker,” Jim said. “But this business is like a fish pond full of sharks. If you want to survive in it, you’ve got to be a shark too.”

Lisa Wells stood up and walked to the front of the small theatre. “There’s no need to panic,” she told everyone. “We all know that films can be a huge success without critical or press approval. Just look at last year’s biggest grossing movie, Giant Dinosaurs in Manhattan. No one liked it; everybody went to see it.”

“And that was a dreadful film,” Art said under his breath.

“What we need to do,” Michael said, “is get to our audience directly. Everyone needs to do as much TV and radio as possible. Jeremy, it’s late notice but I’ve got you on the Carl Vine show tonight. OK?”

Jeremy nodded. “OK. And I can take Ruby on with me.”

I looked from Mike to Jeremy and back again. “Pardon?”

“It’s a talk show, Ruby,” Imogene explained, seeing my confusion. “It’s taped ‘as live’ and is getting very high ratings at the moment. Carl will interview you, make some Jokes at your expense, perhaps try to embarrass you a little. All you have to do is charm the studio audience and the people at home, and they will want to go and see our film. It’s simple.”

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