Ruby Parker: Film Star

Thank you very much

Love from

Kirsty Green aged six and a half and a bit

“Oh bless!” I said, handing the letter to Danny. “That’s so cute that little girls like you!”

“Yeah, well,” Danny said, “I told you. I mean not all of them are from six-year-olds, obviously, and even if some of them do go on about fancying me, it doesn’t make a difference to us. You do know that, don’t you?”

I nodded. “Of course I do,” I said.

“Because it would be stupid to get jealous over a load of letters,” Danny said.

“I know,” I said. “And I’m not jealous any more.”

“Before we begin…” Miss Greenstreet stood at the front of the class in her long gypsy skirt, bouncing on the balls of her feet. That meant only one thing—Shakespeare. She only ever bounced when we read Shakespeare. She said once that she loved teaching English at the academy because at least when students read aloud in class they sounded like they meant it. Once Menakshi and Michael read the death scene in Romeo and Juliet and Miss Greenstreet actually cried. I don’t know why—it wasn’t that good.

“Class!” Miss Greenstreet raised her voice a little, and the chattering settled and quietened. “Two of you will be excused from class today because Ms Lighthouse wants to see you in her office immediately.”

“It wasn’t me!” Michael Henderson shouted from the back of the class. A few of the boys sniggered and laughed.

“Actually, Michael, it’s not because of something someone’s done wrong. It’s because of something two other people have done right.” Miss Greenstreet lowered her voice a little and smiled. “I’m not supposed to say anything, but I think it’s about the auditions for Mr Dubrovnik.” Anne-Marie and Nydia looked at each other and gripped hands tightly. “So,” Miss Greenstreet said, smiling broadly, “can Anne-Marie and Ruby go to Ms Lighthouse’s office right away, please?”

Anne-Marie, who had jumped up at the sound of her name, sat down heavily again.

“It’s the brush-off,” Menakshi called from behind me. “She’s telling the losers first that they haven’t got through. Hey, Nydia, you might be getting a call back!”

Nydia said nothing, but looked from me to Anne-Marie. Anne-Marie stood up again, the sparkle and smile gone from her face. She knew that to be called with me meant rejection.

“Come on,” she said. “We might as well go and get it over with.”

Miss Greenstreet smiled at us as we headed for the door.

“You never know, girls, it might be good news,” she said. But neither one of us replied.

“I really thought I was good,” Anne-Marie said as we trudged towards Ms Lighthouse’s office.

“You were good,” I said. “I was the terrible one.”

“Exactly,” Anne-Marie said.

Ms Lighthouse’s office door was open and her assistant Mrs Moore nodded for us to go in. It was hard to tell what kind of news we were going to get from Mrs Moore’s expression, as never once had anyone ever seen her smile, frown or have any kind of expression at all. She was permanently in neutral, with a face like a mask that might hide thousands of raging thoughts and emotions.

“Sit,” Sylvia Lighthouse commanded us as we walked into her office, and we obeyed promptly. She leaned forward across her desk on her elbows and examined each one of us carefully before sitting back in her chair.

“Well, well,” she said, more to herself than to us. “Cometh the hour, cometh the girls.”

“Huh?” Anne-Marie and I said together.

Chapter four (#ulink_13889933-ff35-5b63-92e3-cc7e029e52bd)

“But—are you sure?” I said, quite unable to believe what Sylvia Lighthouse had just told Anne-Marie and me. “Because I was really terrible.”

“I wasn’t,” Anne-Marie said. “I was great.”

Sylvia read aloud again the fax she had in her hand.

“‘Dear Ms Lighthouse,’” she read, affecting a gruff New York accent. “‘Thank you for sending your young ladies to audition for the part of Polly Harris in The Lost Treasure of King Arthur. There are two that interested me and whom I’d like to see again this Friday: Ruby Parker and Anne-Marie Chance. Details to follow.’” Sylvia Lighthouse put the fax down on the table and looked at us.

“He wants to see you two again,” she said. “This time it will be a longer audition. You’ll read through a scene chosen by Mr Dubrovnik that you won’t get to rehearse before you arrive, and I know he sometimes likes to get actors doing improvisation work, to see who has the right ‘chemistry’. You might have to do some of that.”

Anne-Marie and I looked at each other.

“Um…” I said, not quite able to believe what I was about to say, “Ms Lighthouse, I think he’s got me mixed up with someone else—Nydia maybe? Because I…threw up in my audition. In front of him.” Ms Lighthouse raised her eyebrows and wrinkled her long nose.

“Well, Ruby, he doesn’t say he thought you were good. He says he thought you were interesting. He has not made a mistake. Mr Dubrovnik is not the sort of man to make mistakes.” She tapped her nails on the desk and looked at us. “Now, as I understand, there are three other girls from other ‘sources’ also going to this second call-back, so the chances of you progressing further are slim. Nevertheless, shooting is due to begin within the month, so we need to assume the impossible and talk practicalities with your parents.”

“Mine are in South Africa,” Anne-Marie said, and then, after a moment, “and Canada. Dad’s in Canada.”

I glanced at Anne-Marie. Usually the fact that her movie-producer dad and fashionista mum were more often abroad on business than at home didn’t seem to bother her too much. But sometimes, like just at that moment, you could see her bravado drop a little, and you got a tiny glimpse of sadness. Most of the school thought she had the best time ever, living in her big posh house with only her older brother and their housekeeper Pilar to look after her. But I knew that sometimes, just sometimes, Anne-Marie would like nothing more than to be grounded by one or preferably both of her parents, just as long as they were at home.

“Very well. I’ll need contact numbers then—and, Ruby, I’ll phone your mother and father separately. They will both need to consent.”

“OK,” I said. It still felt strange that they had separate home phone numbers.

“For whoever gets the part of Polly Harris it will be an intensive six-week shoot. Child working laws still apply, of course, so it does mean that if either of you two get the part, you would be taken out of school for the remainder of this term and taught on set by a specially provided tutor, who will know your curriculum and will make sure you do not fall behind with your school work.” Ms Lighthouse gave us one of her brief twitches of a smile. “You will also need an adult guardian with you at all times.”

“I don’t think either of my parents will be able to do that,” Anne-Marie said, looking a little downcast. “I don’t think we’ve spent six weeks in one place together ever in my life.”

“Well,” Ms Lighthouse said. “If needs be, Anne-Marie, I’ll chaperone you myself. I won’t have you missing out on a chance like this. So don’t you worry about that.” She gave Anne-Marie one of her brief, rare, full-length smiles.

“Now, you two must focus on Friday. Ruby, you suffered terribly from nerves the last time. I want you to harness those nerves; make them work for you. Don’t let anything knock you off course again. Mr Dubrovnik must have seen something in you to make him want to see you again. Try and think what that might have been and give it a chance to really shine. Anne-Marie, you are a lovely-looking girl, but don’t rely on good looks to get you through this. Mr Dubrovnik may be shooting an action film, but he wants actors in it, not mannequins. He hasn’t won two Oscars just for casting pretty faces. You have talent, make sure you use it.” Anne-Marie and I nodded, and then I thought of Nydia sitting in English class still thinking that she might have got called back.

“Excuse me, Ms Lighthouse,” I asked her. “Does that mean no one else from the academy is going back?”

“I’m afraid so,” she said, looking at her watch. “I want you to go to the library for the remainder of your lesson until lunch break. I’ll be seeing those other girls now.” She studied mine and Anne-Marie’s faces for a moment and I could guess what she saw there. I hardly knew myself how I felt.

“Don’t feel bad about it, girls,” she said, her voice unexpectedly softened. “This is what acting is about. Sometimes seeing your friends fail means that you have succeeded.”

Mrs Moore watched us as we filed out of Sylvia Lighthouse’s office and turned right towards the library. Then she left her desk and began walking steadily to fetch the other girls who hadn’t made it through. The other girls including Nydia.

“Poor Nydia,” I whispered to Anne-Marie as we sat over open books that we had plucked from the shelves without even reading the title. I wanted to run about and scream and laugh, but given that we had been sent to the library all of those things were impossible. So instead we had to sit and wait until we could tell everyone else—tell Nydia.

“I know,” Anne-Marie said. “But you heard what she said, she said don’t feel bad because—”

“I know,” I said. “But I don’t want it to be like that, do you? I don’t want to be that competitive. And friends you count on, friends like Nydia and you, are really important. I don’t ever want to see a friend fail so that I can succeed.”

“But did you honestly feel like that this morning before you knew you had been called back?” Anne-Marie asked me. I shrugged, but said nothing. She was right, though. If I was really, really honest, this morning a part of me had hoped that none of us would get the part so we could all go back to being normal again. It was only now that I knew I was getting called back that I truly wished Nydia was coming too.