Ruby Parker: Film Star

“Look, Ruby,” Anne-Marie whispered, “acting is one big competition. And somehow, by some amazing miracle, you—Ruby Parker—are one of the winners at the moment. And that’s all you’ve got to think about right now. I know that’s all I’m thinking about. And Nydia will be happy for us; like you said, she is a good friend.”

I stared blankly at the pages of words in front of me without reading them.

Somehow the impossible had happened. Somehow I had done something right, something that meant I was going to get another chance to impress Mr Dubrovnik, to get the part of Polly Harris. I didn’t know what I had done or how I had done it, but I did know one thing: I was going to give the best performance of my life.

This time, I was going to be brilliant.

Chapter five (#ulink_6a589c8b-213b-51d8-a9e1-a3c29f1a06e4)

The Waldorf Hotel in London was the poshest place I had ever been to in my life. OK, I haven’t been to that many posh places unless you count award ceremonies, and they are usually held in a theatre or TV studio, which aren’t nearly as posh as they look on TV.

“This is the life, hey, Ruby?” Dad said, winking as we waited in the foyer for Mr Dubrovnik to call us up, with my mum, Anne-Marie and Sylvia Lighthouse herself, who had decided to replace Miss Greenstreet on this occasion as it was “a matter of academy honour”.

“Totally,” I said, looking around me at the gold and the mirrors and the soft chair and posh orange ladies with big hair and big sunglasses and heavy-looking jewellery.

“Frank!” My mum looked as nervous as I felt. “Try not to look like a tourist.”

“It’s a hotel,” Dad said, shrugging and grinning at me. “It’s built for tourists, hey, Rube?” I laughed because I knew he was trying to make me laugh, thinking it would take my mind off my nerves. And in a way it did, because the two of them being here together reassured me and made me feel safe again in a way that just one of them, try as they might, could not.

It was great that Mum and Dad had decided that both of them were coming with me to this important audition. And I was glad that they’d had a long phone conversation about it, a conversation during which no one had raised their voice or slammed down the receiver (or in our case pressed the “End Call” button really firmly). And I was really glad when Mum had come into the living room where I had been earwigging and said, “I suppose you heard, Dad’s coming too on Friday. So that’ll be nice, won’t it?”

That seemed to be like a big step to me, part of the general air of friendship that had gradually begun to build between them since that horrible night when Dad left us and it had seemed as if nothing would be right in our family again. OK, they were living apart and Dad had his so-called “girlfriend”. And yes, Mum had cut her hair and started wearing make-up to go to the supermarket. Not to mention arranging sleepovers for me so she could go to salsa classes with her friends, who as it turned out she had a lot more of than I realised. But, I decided, as strange and as uncomfortable as some of that made me feel, it didn’t matter as long as they were talking to each other and not hating each other, and sometimes when it was really important I could have both of them together again looking after me. I couldn’t have them back together again but I knew this was the next best thing.

Anne-Marie crossed the polished marble floor to my side and grinned at me.

“Well,” she said, “how are you feeling?” I paused to listen for any early-warning gurgle from my tummy.

“Strangely OK,” I said, sounding slightly surprised. “You?”

“I’m OK,” she said, biting her glossy lip. “It was sweet of Nydia to call us this morning and wish us good luck, wasn’t it?” she said. “Good old Nydia, she’s been really great about this, hasn’t she?”

“Yes,” I said, although I hadn’t spoken to Nydia that morning or the night before. Perhaps she had called home just after I’d left. Or maybe she’d been trying my mobile, which Sylvia had made us turn off before we came into the hotel.

“You can come up now.” Lisa Wells appeared as if from nowhere and spoke so loudly that the posh orange people stopped to look at her from over the tops of their morning papers. At the sound of her voice I felt my stomach tighten and gurgle.

“You can do this, love,” Dad said. “You’re the best, remember that!” I nodded as our little group headed for the lift.

“We have two suites reserved—one for waiting in, the other for a brief rehearsal with a member of the cast and then the screen test. Ruby, you’re going in first, so less chance for you to inflate the hotel’s extra cleaning charges, and Anne-Marie, you’ll be waiting in the second suite. There will be refreshments while you wait. It won’t take long—a little over half an hour, I think. Then you’ll go in, Anne-Marie, and Ruby can wait. Is that OK, girls?”

“That will be perfectly fine,” Ms Lighthouse said before either of us could open our mouths.

At first I sort of wished I had been in a suite at the Waldorf Hotel for some reason other than auditioning for a part in the new film of world-famous movie director Art Dubrovnik. Then I could have enjoyed it even more.

The waiting suite was amazing: the biggest bedroom I have ever seen in my life. In fact, you couldn’t really call it a bedroom, it was more like an apartment, with a huge living room, bathroom and even an upstairs. Of course, Anne-Marie swanked around like she spent her whole life in hotel rooms like this one, and given that her mum and dad were in the top fifty richest people in the country, she probably had. I on the other hand was awestruck and so were my parents, although my mum didn’t look around the room open-mouthed with awe like my dad did, she sat still on the edge of the blue silk sofa and looked afraid to touch anything.

“I’ll be right back,” Lisa said, her eye raking over Anne-Marie and me again. “There’s tea and fresh coffee over there, or take what you like from the minibar as long as it’s legal.” As Sylvia Lighthouse busied herself pouring coffee and tea for my parents, Anne-Marie crossed straight to a part of the wall that I had thought was just white-painted wooden panelling and opened it to reveal a tiny but well-stocked fridge.

She handed me a Coke and took one for herself.

“How did you know that was there?” I asked her, impressed.

“It was obvious,” she said. “Minibars are always in the same place, aren’t they?” I said nothing and went and sat next to my mum and sipped my drink. Sylvia Lighthouse was talking but I wasn’t listening. All I could think about was that it was me who would be going to audition first. I knew that it was going to happen, but I couldn’t quite believe it. Somehow it didn’t seem real. It felt like I was already playing a part in a film.

“OK.” Lisa Wells opened the door. “Ruby, come this way, please.”

I looked at my mum, who smiled at me and nodded, and then at my dad, who pumped his fist in the air in a way that would have ordinarily mortified me if I hadn’t been so nervous, and then finally at Sylvia Lighthouse, who was standing straight-backed against the window.

“Remember everything I’ve taught you and you will excel,” she told me with quiet dignity.

“I will, Ms Lighthouse,” I said solemnly, though to be perfectly honest at that point I couldn’t remember a single word she had ever said about anything ever. I could hardly even remember my name.

“We are working to a schedule here, you know,” Lisa Wells said, rolling her eyes. I stood up and I followed her into the second suite.

Mr Dubrovnik was sitting on a fat, cream sort of half-sofa half-chair, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees as if at any moment he might want to suddenly get up and leave. He watched me as I walked in through the door and pointed at the chair opposite him.

“Hello, Ruby,” he said. His voice was soft and low and quite friendly really.

“Hello,” I said. My voice was high and squeaky and sounded quite a lot like a strangulated mouse.

“Well, I’m glad to see you again,” Mr Dubrovnik said. “I bet you didn’t think you’d be asked back, did you?” I shook my head. It seemed like a better alternative than squeaky-voiced talking. Mr Dubrovnik smiled. He had a very nice fatherly sort of smile that wrinkled his face up around his eyes and made him look about a hundred times less scary.

“And so, Ruby, why do you think I’ve asked you to come to this second audition today?” he asked. I thought about it for a moment and realised that this time I’d have to speak, so I concentrated on making my voice come out as normal as possible.

“Well,” I said, and this time I still sounded like a mouse but not one who had been breathing the helium from party balloons, “I thought you might have got me mixed up with another Ruby.” It was a terrible answer, but the only one I had, and I was rewarded with another one of Mr Dubrovnik’s friendly smiles. He laughed and shook his head.

“So you thought you did pretty badly, right?” he said, twinkling at me. I found myself smiling back at him as I nodded.

“Well, I’ll tell you,” he said. “You did. You were terrible. You let the situation rule you, and an actor can never, never allow that to happen. You have to rule the situation at all times. No matter how difficult it is. You have to own it. You’ll learn that if you ever work in live theatre.” I nodded.

“I have done live theatre,” I said quickly. “School plays.” Mr Dubrovnik laughed again and this time so did I. I had no idea that I was so hilarious. His face settled into a smile again and he leaned even further forward in his chair as if he were about to tell me a secret.

“I’ll tell you why you’re here, Ruby, and I won’t lie,” he told me. “You’ve got something none of the other girls going for this part have got.” I held my breath, hoping he was about to say something like “real talent”, but instead he said, “You’ve got history and years of experience. I’ve seen the show you were in, Kensington Lofts, or whatever.” I nodded. “I asked Sylvia to send me over some tapes after your first audition because I couldn’t believe that the performance you gave was really your best.” I shook my head with emphasis. “Thought not, so I watched about four episodes and—you were really good in it. Really good considering those scripts.” He smiled again; it was a smile that seemed to reach right up to his forehead. “Also, you might like to know that Miss Grant liked your audition. She said she thought you had something about you that might be right for the part.” I thought how nice that this Miss Grant, whoever she might be, liked me, and then I realised who he was talking about! Not just a Miss Grant, but the Miss Grant—Imogene Grant!

“Imogene Grant thought that from seeing the tape of my audition?” I said, sounding incredulous. “Did she see that last bit?” I asked him, mortified. He smiled.

“Afraid so,” he said. I clapped my hands over my eyes and he laughed again.

“Yeah, I know,” Art Dubrovnik said. “But even with the last bit, she wanted me to see you again and I’m not in the habit of saying no to my leading lady. So are you all set?”

I took a deep breath.

“As I’ll ever be,” I said.

Mr Dubrovnik nodded.

“Jeremy!” he called out to another room most politely. “Would you mind coming through now, please?” And my jaw dropped as Britain’s leading thespian and one of the world’s top film actors walked into the room. It was Jeremy Fort.

“Hello,” he said to me, giving me a little bow.