Ruby Parker: Hollywood Star

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.