Ruby Parker Hits the Small Time (9 page)

“You know, Nydia, it's lucky for you that you know Ruby, isn't it? Otherwise your fat little life would be really boring.” Nydia flinched again, and I squeezed her fingers back. “You'd better not be winding me up. If I find out this is one of your stupid little scams, I swear I'll make you pay.”

Nydia looked at me and winked. “It's not a scam.

Ruby can make it happen.
She's
on the telly, remember?” Nydia said it in such a way as to remind Anne-Marie that she wasn't on the telly, never had been, and hadn't even done an ad in a year.

There was a long and agonizing silence.

“OK, I'll do it,” Anne-Marie said. So we arranged to go to her place in the morning and sort it all out then. Just like that.

“You heard her,” I said later—after we'd calmed down and stopped jumping on the bed like idiots. “She's totally going to kill us. At least now she just ignores us. After this she's going to …she's going to …well,
kill
us.”

Nydia smiled and gave me a hug. “Relax, Ruby. It'll be fine. We'll worry about that after we've got your kiss out of the way. She'll probably just forget about it anyway.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Yeah, right!” I exclaimed. All my excitement was suddenly gone. I felt sick again. “You shouldn't have told her that I helped Danny. I didn't even know he was going to be on the show until today! I mean, I just very nearly got sacked myself. The last thing I have is any influence.”

“I know,” Nydia said. “But I had to have a way in with her. It's the only thing she understands.”

I nodded. “And what about her calling me stuck-up?

Imagine that!”

“Imagine,” Nydia agreed.

Nydia's dad took me home just before nine thirty. The house was quiet except for the murmur of the TV in the living room, so I stood in the hallway for a few seconds, waiting for Mum to call out to me. When she didn't, I peeked around the door. She was asleep in the chair with a glass of red wine in her hand. I stood there for a moment and wondered what to do. Eventually I tiptoed in and carefully lifted the glass out of her hand. It was filled to the brim, and the open bottle on the coffee table was still half full, so at least she hadn't got herself drunk like Angel's mum did in the show.

I set the glass down on the table and looked at her. Her mouth was open and her eyes were closed tightly, her brows furrowed as if she were dreaming in frowns. I took a pen from the desk and wrote on the back of an envelope, “I'm back, Ruby xoxo,” and rested it on her knees. Then I went to bed.

I don't know what the time was, but I'd been asleep for a while when I heard her come into my room, just like she used to when I was a kid. I kept my eyes closed and my breathing steady as she sat on the edge of my bed. She brushed the hair off my face and kissed my cheek.

“Sleep well, my baby,” she whispered. “I love you.”

I lay very still as she left the room, pretending to be asleep, but it was a long time before I was.

29 Windhouse Street
Brighton
Sussex

Dear Angel,

Last year your mum and dad split up for a while and you were really sad. Do you remember when they had a big custody battle over you and you thought that you were going to have to choose between them? Then you all got trapped in that lift as it hung by a single wire for two episodes and you realized that you all loved each other more than anything and they called off the divorce.

So I know you will understand how I feel, Angel. My mum and dad have split up too. My mum has got a new boyfriend; she got him before she split up with Dad and now Dad is very angry. He doesn't live at home now and Mum won't let him near the house. She says she'll get a restraining order if he even tries to talk to me or my little brother, Josh. He's not even allowed to pick us up from school. Mum says that Dad is a bad person and that he has never really loved us. Dad told me Mum doesn't care about anything or anyone except herself and that we should come and live with him. We have to see a social worker soon and tell her what we think.

The thing is, Angel, I know they still love each other really—just like your mum and dad. How can I make them see it? We don't live near any tall buildings with lifts, and anyway Mum won't go in one ever since she saw that episode of Kensington Heights.

Thank you for listening,
Naomi Torrence

Chapter Eleven

I
looked at Naomi's letter for a long time after it arrived this morning with the rest of the post from the studio. I couldn't think of anything to say. How could I tell her that Angel's mum and dad only got back together because Trudy had written it that way—not because of anything that might happen to a real girl like Naomi or a real girl like me. I should be glad, I suppose, that my mum and dad haven't said or done the things that Naomi's mum and dad have. But I'm not.

I read the letter again, and part of me wanted to write back and tell her I
did
know exactly how she felt. I did know because it was happening to me too, and it didn't matter if it happened to one in three families or one in three billion, because when it happens to you it feels like the worst thing in the world. But somehow I couldn't do it. I couldn't write anything to Naomi, and my usual pep talk and leaflet for ChildLine seemed pointless.

For the first time I thought about what
I
would do if someone told me to talk to a teacher, or my mum, or a stranger on the end of the phone—even a very nice one. I didn't know if I'd be able to take that advice. To say the words—to really say out loud the things that are worrying you—is hard, maybe too hard. Maybe it's best just to pretend they aren't there and get on with things. But I can't write that to Naomi; she needs someone to tell her that everything is going to be OK one day. I don't know if it is anymore though, not for her or for me.

So I folded the letter up and tucked it into my pillowcase (which is where I plan to put the love letters that Justin will write me one day), and I pulled out my scripts for the next four shows. Everest pushed open my bedroom door with his nose and looked at me before lumbering up to my bed. I reached down and helped him up beside me, pulling the scripts he was lying on out from under his tummy.

I looked at them in their pale yellow covers, with the
Kensington Heights
logo swirled across the little window that showed the episode number and title. Normally, I'd take it downstairs and Mum would go through it with me and highlight my lines, and we'd give them a general read-through so I knew how Angel was supposed to be thinking and feeling, and then I'd sort of learn them. I say “sort of ” because it's not like a play where you always have to get it right all the time. I mean, you
do
have to get it right, but you can improvise too—make up your own way of saying the line, as long as when we get to the end of the scene everyone is happy. Our schedule is too tight to learn them all by heart. But when Mum brought my tea in this morning her eyes were red and her nose looked swollen; she'd been crying again. I didn't want her to feel like she had to hide it from me so I thought I should stay out of her way.

Anyway, on the third script there was a bright pink Post-it note with Trudy's handwriting crawling over it in fat blue marker pen. “Read this scene first! It's so fab!” I picked up the script and turned to the page she'd marked. I knew exactly which scene it was before I read it, but that didn't stop my heart from pounding like a drum and my hands from shaking as I read the words.

KENSINGTON HEIGHTS

SERIES NINE, EPISODE FOURTEEN
“FIRST LOVE FOREVER”
WRITTEN BY: TRUDY SIMMONS

SCENE THIRTY-TWO

EXT. GARDEN: MOONLIGHT

ANGEL stands alone in CASPIAN's garden, having rushed out of the party. She looks up at the moon, tears brimming in her eyes. She is mortified that JULIA has told CASPIAN about her crush on him. She knows that everyone will be laughing at her. CASPIAN enters the garden.

CASPIAN

Angel?

CASPIAN rests his hand on ANGEL'S shoulder, making her jump. ANGEL turns and looks up at him.

CASPIAN

Don't stay out here on your own. Come inside. It's almost time for the cake.

ANGEL

Cake? That's all you think of me, isn't it? You think I'm some silly little girl who likes cake!

ANGEL is struggling to hold back her tears. CASPIAN brushes her hair away from her face and shakes his head.

CASPIAN

Look, Julia did tell me what you said to her—about liking me, I mean, and wishing that it could be me who gives you your first kiss. I don't know why you told her; you must have known she would tell. She's probably just jealous. She's always catty when she's jealous.

ANGEL turns away from him and buries her head in her hands.

ANGEL

Oh, please! Just leave me alone. I know you hate me. It's fine! You don't have to pretend to be nice to me. Just go inside back to Julia!

CASPIAN holds ANGEL gently by the shoulder and turns her back to face him.

CASPIAN

But I don't hate you! I, well, these last few weeks, the way you've dealt with being a hostage in that armed robbery and the way you've done your hair …it's made me see you differently. I can see you're grow-i n g up, Angel, into a really beautiful woman.

ANGEL

You can?

CASPIAN

Yes, I can. The thing is, Angel—since I'm almost sixteen and you aren't even fourteen—I just think that now isn't the right time for you and me. I think we've all got a bit of growing up to do first, don't you? You are an amazing person, but you've got all the time in the world. You don't need to rush something like falling in love.

ANGEL

I didn't rush into it. It just happened. (Pauses.) Caspian? Do you think that, maybe one day you might …like me too?

CASPIAN laughs gently and cups ANGEL'S face in his hands.

CASPIAN

I like you now, Angel. I always will. And even if I can't give you more than that, I don't see why I can't make at least one of your wishes come true. Close-up on pair. ANGEL looks up into CASPIAN'S eyes and he moves to kiss her. She closes her eyes and he gently, softly, tenderly, sweetly kisses her on the lips. He pulls back. Her eyes are still closed.

CASPIAN

(Smiling at ANGEL, seeing the beautiful woman she will become.) Now, will you come inside and have some cake?

ANGEL opens her eyes and nods, too happy to speak. CASPIAN goes inside; after a moment of looking up at the stars, ANGEL follows him. She senses that this is the beginning of a new phase in her life. She is walking on air.

For a second I
was
walking on air. For one second I could smell the scent of the evening flowers, feel the silver of the moonlight on my skin and the brush of Justin's warm lips against mine …

And then I had a panic attack. I have to admit I'd imagined over and over again what Justin's lips might feel like: soft (but not too soft) and warm. But what did
mine
feel like? Maybe
my
lips were rubbery and damp, or cold and clammy! And did I have to pucker up and purse them? Or just keep them still? Maybe I should even open my lips like they did in the movies.

Panic-stricken, I looked at the clock. I'd promised Nydia I would meet her outside Anne-Marie's house at ten A.M. and that I wouldn't make her wait or go in on her own. But what with Naomi's letter and the script, I'd lost track of time. I only had fifteen minutes to get there—and it was a thirty-minute bus ride away.

I leaped out of bed and pulled my jeans off the back of the chair, getting dressed as quickly as possible. I should have had a shower and brushed my hair, but I didn't have time. I ran downstairs and past the kitchen, where my mum was making tea.

“I'm just going to meet Nydia and her mum and I'm late, OK? I'll be back by lunch.” I rushed for the front door, hoping the inevitable wouldn't happen.

Inevitably, it did.

“Hang on a minute!”

I stopped in my tracks and looked at Mum. She had washed her face and, although she looked tired, you almost couldn't tell that she'd been crying. She smiled at me.

“Where are you going, Ruby? It's just that I thought we could both go shopping. We haven't been for ages, have we? We could get you some new clothes. Nydia could come too, if you like, and we could all go to lunch.”

I stared at her and found myself wondering if she would buy me a new phone, since she was feeling guilty at the moment. But then I felt terrible. Poor Mum thought she was being nice to me—and she
was
being really nice to me. She thought that if she took me out, then maybe I'd be nice to her. And all I could think about was getting new stuff that she'd never normally buy me. But it's like I said before, I just couldn't think about the things Mum wanted me to think about right now. I had to get away from all of that: from her crying, and from Dad not being in the kitchen, ironing his shirt and making his own words up to the songs on the radio. My chest felt hollow and empty.

“I'm sorry, Mum, I can't today,” I said. “Nydia and I and this other girl from school …we're rehearsing this play and I need to go. But maybe on my next day off? I'd like that.” I bit my lip and looked at my feet. Somehow I'd made it sound as if I were lying.

“That's OK.” Mum was still smiling, but I could see that she had to work really hard to keep the corners of her mouth pointing upward. “It's just that …well …you're not bottling everything up, are you, darling?”

I stared hard at the toe of my shoe. Of course I'm bottling everything up. Why would anybody want to un-bottle what I'm feeling and pour it all over the place, making a great big mess? But I didn't say that out loud, because the last thing I wanted was for her to
make
me talk about it—or worse, to get it into her head that I needed a counselor, like Jade Caruso's parents did when she was caught shoplifting in New Look. (It wasn't the shoplifting that had shocked them; it was the fact that she'd chosen New Look instead of some designer place. At least, that's what Nydia and I thought.) I'd overheard Jade talking about it once. She said it was the most embarrassing and humiliating moment of her life and that, in the end, she'd had to cry and pretend to be miserable just so they'd let her out of the house on her own again.