Read Online Calling the Shots by Annie Dalton - Free Book Online Page A

me look up and I saw Honesty trembling uncontrollably. I realised that she was totally convinced her sister was going to be horribly mashed by a train. She started moaning, “Cut her free. Quick, quick! Cut her free!”
    Deep down I’d known that sneery zombie girl wasn’t really my Honesty. That’s why I’d sat up with her night after night beaming vibes, trying to reach her. But now for the first time I glimpsed the terrible vulnerability she’d been so desperately trying to hide, and it shocked me right to the core.
    On the last day of filming, Mr Mantovani held a party at the town’s only hotel. Officially everyone was drinking fruit punch, but I glimpsed the inevitable brown paper bag doing the rounds and everyone started getting a bit flirty and giggly. I’d noticed that banning alcohol seemed to have made it more thrilling and desirable than ever.
    Just as things were getting a teensy bit out of hand, a tow truck pulled up outside. A guy in dungarees came in and peered around the crowded bar. “Is there a lady called Rosa Bloom here?”
    Rose turned in surprise and her short shiny hair went swooshing across her rouged cheekbones. “I guess that must be me!” she laughed.
    “Sign here please and print your name clearly underneath,” he said. “Oops, nearly forgot to give you the keys!”
    Rose pulled a comical face at the other Bloomfields, like, “What is going on?”
    They all followed him outside, totally bemused. The delivery man unhitched a battered old pick-up from his vehicle. “She’s all yours!” he said cheerily and climbed back into his cab.
    Rose stared at the pick-up with a stunned expression.
    Mr Mantovani came up behind her. “Don’t look so surprised, doll,” he chuckled. “You kept your side of the deal, now I’ve kept mine!”
    “I thought you were going to give us the train tickets,” she said wonderingly. “Not our very own truck.” She looked doubtful. “It isn’t stolen, is it?”
    He looked wounded. “Don’t insult me, Rosa! I called in some favours, is all.”
    Rose reached up and kissed him on both cheeks. “Why thank you, Mr Mantovani!” Then she yelled, “Honesty, Clem, Mama - grab your bags, let’s go!!”
    Lenny was looking down in the mouth. “You can’t even drive,” he said.
    Rose’s eyes sparkled. “No, but you can! Hollywood is in California too. What better place to be a stuntman than Hollywood?”
    Yess! I thought. Hollywood was only just starting to be known for making films in Lenny’s time, so he’d be arriving at exactly the right time.
    “And when all those other directors come knocking on your door, doll, tell them Tony Mantovani saw you first!” the director called plaintively.
    Rose laughed. “I told you, I’m not interested in movies. When we get to California I’m going to college and one day I’ll be a famous archaeologist.”
    She climbed into the back of the old pick-up, put her glasses on and started to read. I had to smile. With her new confidence and her ‘It’ girl haircut, Honesty’s bookworm sister looked gorgeous, even in her hideous specs.
    Lenny, Grace and Clem climbed into the front of the truck. Lenny started singing, “California here I come!” and Grace and Clem joined in.
    I suddenly felt desperately bleak vibes coming from Honesty. She had seated herself as far possible from Rose. She had her usual blank zombie expression, but for the first time in weeks, I could hear her thoughts; Everyone is following their dreams. Everyone but me.
    I had a sudden shocking insight. It wasn’t that Honesty didn’t have a dream. She did. She had a totally impossible one. She wanted everything the way it was before her father died. She wanted to be living with her mama and papa in suburban Philadelphia, scoring As and Bs at school.
    If she couldn’t have that, she didn’t want anything. In other words, she was going to stay a zombie for the rest of her life.
    I experienced the sickening falling sensation that I get when