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Authors: Rowan Coleman
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into one of her new designer outfits especially to come and see Jeremy and me on the Carl Vine show. When she came back I had to admit that she still looked different and not like my mum at all, but she did look like a proper Hollywood lady.
“You look great, amazing, Mum,” I had said, risking a quick air kiss. “I didn’t mean what I said before. It was just the shock and nerves about being on the show.”
I had meant it of course. I hated how she looked. But I didn’t want to fall out with her now and, anyway, I hoped that whatever had happened to her face would wear off soon.
“I know,” Mum said, patting me with an orange hand while Julian looked on, ready to separate us by force if we tried for a hug. “But things and even people have to change, Ruby. Nothing stays the same forever.”
I really hoped that was true about her tangerine tan.
We’d been at the studio for a few minutes when Lisa Wells popped her head round the dressing-room door to tell us she was in the audience and would laugh and cheer at all our jokes.
“What do you mean, all our jokes?” I asked. Lisa laughed. Jeremy did not. Mum and I might have made up, but Jeremy it seemed was still angry. He hadn’t spoken to me once since we had left the house. I was about to go on TV when I was supposed to be on holiday, in front of twenty million viewers, with a man who thought I was selfish and spoilt. It was a bit of a worry.
Then Carl Vine himself came in. Well, came half in as he couldn’t quite fit in the crowded room. “Wow,” he said, all grins. “You got the whole royal family in here, don’t you? Sorry about the cramped conditions Jeremy, we didn’t know till the last minute that you were bringing a bonus guest. We had to give the best dressing room to that talent contest kid. It was in his rider.”
Carl reached out to shake my hand. “Hi, Rosie, really pleased to meet you. I hear you are the next big thing.”
“Actually…” I was about to correct him about my name but he had already gone.
“He seems nice,” my mum said.
“It’s all a façade. Underneath he’s as tough as steel,”
Cary said. “That’s how he got this far so quickly. He takes no prisoners.”
“Really,” Mum said thoughtfully. (At least I assumed she was being thoughtful. It was hard to tell when her forehead no longer moved.)
Then a woman in a red sweater and headphones with a worried look on her face was the next to try and squeeze in the room.
“Hi, guys,” she said. “Look, we’re really hopin’ to get you guys on tonight, after all who wants to hear Christian Dane whining all night? But Pete Peterson might be harder to get off, even if Carl hates him. I promise you we’ll do our best, OK?”
And then she was gone and we heard the band begin to play and Carl was introducing the show.
I felt my stomach plummet down to my toes like brick through custard, with a kerplop. Carl had introduced me as Rosie Parker! He had told twenty million viewers that I was called something else. And then another thought occurred to me.
“What does she mean, she hopes we’ll be on?” I asked Jeremy.
“It means,” Jeremy replied coolly, without taking his eyes off the TV monitor, “that on these shows they are never sure if they’ll be able to fit in all the guests. It’srecorded as live, but aired at different times across the states depending on the time zone. So to keep it seeming live and fresh, if one guest goes on a bit, they have to bump the last one.”
“So we might not go on at all?” I asked him hopefully.
“Possibly not,” Jeremy said with an indifferent shrug.
He was talking to me at last, but he was clearly still cross. I held on very tight to David, until he bit my finger hard enough to leave teeth imprints. At least the pain took my mind off the panic and emptiness.
We all watched the monitor as the first guest came on, a recent winner of a TV talent show who had lied about his past in order to win votes. It turned out
“You look great, amazing, Mum,” I had said, risking a quick air kiss. “I didn’t mean what I said before. It was just the shock and nerves about being on the show.”
I had meant it of course. I hated how she looked. But I didn’t want to fall out with her now and, anyway, I hoped that whatever had happened to her face would wear off soon.
“I know,” Mum said, patting me with an orange hand while Julian looked on, ready to separate us by force if we tried for a hug. “But things and even people have to change, Ruby. Nothing stays the same forever.”
I really hoped that was true about her tangerine tan.
We’d been at the studio for a few minutes when Lisa Wells popped her head round the dressing-room door to tell us she was in the audience and would laugh and cheer at all our jokes.
“What do you mean, all our jokes?” I asked. Lisa laughed. Jeremy did not. Mum and I might have made up, but Jeremy it seemed was still angry. He hadn’t spoken to me once since we had left the house. I was about to go on TV when I was supposed to be on holiday, in front of twenty million viewers, with a man who thought I was selfish and spoilt. It was a bit of a worry.
Then Carl Vine himself came in. Well, came half in as he couldn’t quite fit in the crowded room. “Wow,” he said, all grins. “You got the whole royal family in here, don’t you? Sorry about the cramped conditions Jeremy, we didn’t know till the last minute that you were bringing a bonus guest. We had to give the best dressing room to that talent contest kid. It was in his rider.”
Carl reached out to shake my hand. “Hi, Rosie, really pleased to meet you. I hear you are the next big thing.”
“Actually…” I was about to correct him about my name but he had already gone.
“He seems nice,” my mum said.
“It’s all a façade. Underneath he’s as tough as steel,”
Cary said. “That’s how he got this far so quickly. He takes no prisoners.”
“Really,” Mum said thoughtfully. (At least I assumed she was being thoughtful. It was hard to tell when her forehead no longer moved.)
Then a woman in a red sweater and headphones with a worried look on her face was the next to try and squeeze in the room.
“Hi, guys,” she said. “Look, we’re really hopin’ to get you guys on tonight, after all who wants to hear Christian Dane whining all night? But Pete Peterson might be harder to get off, even if Carl hates him. I promise you we’ll do our best, OK?”
And then she was gone and we heard the band begin to play and Carl was introducing the show.
I felt my stomach plummet down to my toes like brick through custard, with a kerplop. Carl had introduced me as Rosie Parker! He had told twenty million viewers that I was called something else. And then another thought occurred to me.
“What does she mean, she hopes we’ll be on?” I asked Jeremy.
“It means,” Jeremy replied coolly, without taking his eyes off the TV monitor, “that on these shows they are never sure if they’ll be able to fit in all the guests. It’srecorded as live, but aired at different times across the states depending on the time zone. So to keep it seeming live and fresh, if one guest goes on a bit, they have to bump the last one.”
“So we might not go on at all?” I asked him hopefully.
“Possibly not,” Jeremy said with an indifferent shrug.
He was talking to me at last, but he was clearly still cross. I held on very tight to David, until he bit my finger hard enough to leave teeth imprints. At least the pain took my mind off the panic and emptiness.
We all watched the monitor as the first guest came on, a recent winner of a TV talent show who had lied about his past in order to win votes. It turned out
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