05 Take Two - My Sister the Vampire (10 page)

‘Ivy?’ Olivia was frowning.

At the same time, Ivy couldn’t deny that this could be Olivia’s big break. The director would have to be a zombie not to see her potential.

Ivy sighed. ‘I just wanted to say good luck,’ she said, hoping that she’d get some evidence before the role was decided.

Olivia gave her a big hug and scurried off with Camilla to sign up.

‘It is now Mission Critical to uncover the truth about Jackson Caulfield,’ Ivy said to Sophia as they watched the others leave.

‘That he’s utterly into your sister?’ Sophia replied.

Ivy batted her on the arm. ‘I know
that
– it’s
because
of that we have to figure out whether or not he’s a vampire. Now, I’ve got a plan.’

Ivy wanted to create some diversion on the other side of the set. That way she could break
into the cafeteria truck, steal a chef uniform and pretend to be a caterer so she could find out exactly what food his contract specified.

‘All you have to do,’ Ivy said, ‘is something distracting.’ She searched around for inspiration, her glance falling on a loudspeaker. ‘Like singing over the megaphone. Or maybe streaking?’

‘Um,’ Sophia said. ‘So many “no’s”.’

‘There you are!’ said a voice behind them. ‘I was hoping to find you on set somewhere.’

The two girls turned to see Lillian, the second assistant director, who had signed them up to be extras yesterday. Ivy hoped she wasn’t going to give them a piece of her mind for what happened yesterday.

‘Hi,’ Sophia said cautiously.

‘Your cartoon was hilarious,’ Lillian said.

‘Really?’ Sophia’s voice had gone so high a bat would squeak back. It was pretty cool that
a Hollywood director liked her cartoon.

‘We thought you’d want to bury us for the Jessica incident,’ Ivy said.

‘No, but now that you mention it – you can make it up to me. I need some help in the costume trailer.’

‘Sure,’ Sophia agreed.

As they walked across the parking lot with her, Lillian explained, ‘Yesterday was not at all your fault. At first, Jessica tried using car sickness as a medical reason for not doing the movie.’

‘But she wouldn’t actually be in a car,’ Sophia pointed out.

‘Exactly. It’s just another lame excuse to get out of the shoot.’

Lillian took them inside the huge costume trailer and over to a pile of clothes. ‘OK, girls, these need sorting out and hanging up.’

Ivy was more than happy to help with the
costume racks – every kind of top, designer-label jeans, a hundred different belts and sunglasses.

Ivy started helping Sophia with the hats.

‘The next excuse from Jessica was an extreme allergy to snow,’ Lillian said. ‘We responded with understanding and pointed out that would also prevent her from doing anything that required leaving her house for the next three months.’

Ivy mock-gasped. ‘But then how would she get on the cover of
Paparazzi Press?’

Lillian smiled. ‘In the end, I’m sure it was because the script is too much about Jackson. You’d think she would have
read
it before signing up. Anyway, now that she’s gone, this movie is tabloid paradise – an unknown actress plucked from obscurity, teamed with the biggest teen dream . . . Philippe couldn’t have planned it better.’

Ivy realised that she might not need Sophia
to go streaking after all. Lillian had access to the inner circle with all kinds of information about the people in the movie.

She needed to keep Lillian talking about Jackson. Her mind flashed to the girl in the polka-dot jacket outside and then to Bethany – Jackson fan girls. If Ivy pretended to be a big Jackson fan, she could ask Lillian lots of questions without Lillian wondering why she was asking.

Think perky. Think Mister Smoothie. You can do this!
Ivy told herself.

Ivy forced an Olivia-style giggle. ‘Whoever they pick for the lead is going to be one lucky girl getting to talk to Jackson all the time.’

Sophia looked at her like she’d grown a second head.

‘I mean, he is totally above all labels.’ Ivy winced at her own idiocy, hoping that Lillian would buy her act and spill some silver bullets.

Lillian chuckled. ‘He certainly isn’t at all what you’d expect from his movies.’

In a blood-drinking, coffin-dwelling, fang-filing kind of way?
Ivy felt like Lillian was finally going to give her the breakthrough evidence she needed. She clutched the Stetson she was stacking with both hands.

‘In a really modest and down-to-earth kind of way,’ Lillian finished.

Ivy let out her breath. This guy was completely squeaky clean! He had everybody fooled.

‘Except,’ Lillian said and Ivy’s head whipped back up, ‘for the dietary requirement section of his rider.’

Ivy gulped. ‘Yes?’

‘It’s a mile long. For a guy who is so laid back he’s almost dead, he sure is particular about his meals.’

Ivy nudged Sophia so hard that she dropped a
stack of baseball caps, and they scattered all over the floor of the trailer.

‘Ivy,’ Sophia whispered, as they crouched to pick up the hats. ‘Can we
please
stop talking about Jackson?’

‘But I’m on the verge –’ Ivy started.

‘Of getting us escorted off the movie set in handcuffs for harassment,’ Sophia finished. She picked up the last hat and gave Lillian a big smile.

Ivy sighed and kept her mouth shut.

‘Thanks so much for helping out, girls,’ Lillian said. ‘Let’s see . . . I’m sure I’ve got . . .’ She trailed off as she went rummaging around in a box in the corner. ‘Yup! Here it is.’ She pulled out a T-shirt that said ‘Save the Whales'. ‘Jackson wore this last week, during shooting in the studio.’

She handed it to Ivy, with an expectant look, but Ivy couldn’t figure out why Lillian would think she wanted a grubby old shirt.

‘Wow, Lillian!’ Sophia said. ‘Thanks so much. Ivy is so excited, she’s speechless.’ Sophia nudged her hard. ‘And I know a little girl who’s going to be very jealous.’

Ivy realised that this was primo Jackson memorabilia. Bethany would be utterly thrilled. ‘Yeah, thanks!’

After all that
, Ivy thought,
I’m still not any closer to proving Jackson’s vamp-ness. And I’m running out of time.

‘I don’t know why any of these people are bothering,’ Charlotte said. ‘I’m the most qualified for the part; I’ve already acted with Jackson.’

Olivia bit her lip. That was totally rude, but she didn’t want to start an argument in line. It was just her luck to end up right behind Charlotte. ‘I think it’s exciting that everybody gets a chance,’ she said.

‘Humph.’ Charlotte rummaged through her bag, pulled out a compact mirror and started applying another layer of mascara.

Katie and Allison were waiting nearby, looking like they’d just come last in a race.

‘Aren’t you two going to sign up?’ Camilla asked them.

‘Of course not,’ Charlotte answered. ‘They’re going to be my cheerleaders.’

Katie offered a weak thumbs-up and Allison said, ‘Go, Charlotte!’ but she wasn’t smiling.

Olivia was so glad she wasn’t one of Charlotte’s closest friends – it didn’t seem like much fun.

‘And I’m
your
cheerleader,’ Camilla said to Olivia. ‘But I’m not any good at backflips.’

Olivia giggled and linked her arm in Camilla’s.

‘Next!’ shouted the receptionist sitting at the desk, making Charlotte jump and smudge her mascara under her eye.

‘Argh!’ Charlotte tried to wipe it away but it just smeared.

‘Next!’ the woman said even louder. Her hair was in a tight bun and she peered at Charlotte over her reading glasses. ‘You! Get over here.’

Charlotte stepped up, one hand covering her eye.

‘Name?’ the receptionist asked, fingers poised over the keyboard.

Charlotte handed over her extras pass, like it was a golden ticket.

The woman squinted at it. ‘Chartreuse Blown?’

Camilla chuckled.

‘What? No!’ Charlotte snatched the pass back, peered at the details and turned bright red. ‘It’s Charlotte. Charlotte Brown.’

The woman raised one eyebrow. ‘You sure, honey?’

Charlotte blinked furiously. ‘Don’t be
ridiculous. I know my own name!’

The receptionist smirked and indicated a stack of folders. ‘Take one of those and move on.’ Charlotte took the top one, clutched it to her chest and stormed past Katie and Allison, who hurried after her.

‘Next!’ the woman shouted.

That meant Olivia.

Ivy didn’t want to push it too much with Lillian, but she had to find out the truth about her sister’s movie-star crush. She had a plan. She needed Lillian to show them where the food was.

When they had finished with the costumes, Ivy piped up. ‘Gosh, I’m starving.’

‘Well, we’re done here.’ Lillian grabbed three pairs of oversized Access sunglasses from their cubby hole, handed a pair each to Ivy and Sophia and said, ‘Let’s head over to Craft Service.’

All she needed to do was taste one of Jackson’s meals and she’d have the proof she needed. If there was any hint of blood, Ivy would be able to tell.

It was still cold outside the costume trailer but sunny, so Ivy was glad of the wicked shades.

‘Lillian! Lillian! What is to be done? Have you
seen
the actresses? Oh,
non, non, non!’
How Philippe didn’t melt into a puddle of trauma, Ivy didn’t know.

‘Don’t worry.’ Lillian tried to calm him down but he was flapping like a black cape in the wind. ‘We’ll find someone.’ She mouthed, ‘See you later,’ to Ivy and Sophia and led Philippe away.

‘What are you up to?’ Sophia demanded the moment they were out of earshot.

‘I know how I can get proof of Jackson’s fanghood,’ Ivy said, pulling Sophia towards the big truck labelled ‘Craft Service'. ‘His mouth!’

‘You’re going to call up his dentist?’

‘No, I’m going to sneak into wherever they’re storing his meals,’ Ivy said. ‘I don’t know exactly where that is, but if it comes down to it, I will sit in the cafeteria and wait until he shows up, so I can know what he’s eating.’

Sophia sighed. ‘Well, it beats me streaking.’

Ivy hauled herself up into the craft truck and her heart sank. It was a big truck, but there were people everywhere. She guessed that without having anything to film, the crew was just being paid to eat. Every table was full and the line for food was really long.

So much for sneaking around without anyone noticing.

As the line moved slowly forward, it gave Ivy a chance to survey the scene. The rows of chefs were each tending to a different section of the food tables, serving things up on request. Behind
them was a man in a smart suit, checking things off on his clipboard, talking to certain people in line and observing. Ivy decided he was the catering manager.

A trim, brown-haired girl, looking stylish and wearing a multi-stranded beaded necklace over a long, loose grey sweater and jeans, caught the manager’s attention. Ivy guessed she must be one of the supporting actresses. The manager flipped through his papers, turned to a stainless-steel fridge behind him and took out a tray filled with what looked like raw carrots and celery – and nothing else – and handed it to her.

‘Bingo,’ Ivy said. ‘He’s our man and that’s our fridge.’ The manager walked farther down the tables to talk to one of his staff. ‘That must be where they would store Jackson’s special meals.’

Ivy and Sophia shuffled forward, past the first table covered with an elaborate salad bar. The
people in front were trying to choose between lobster and oysters, so they were forced to wait in front of the second table, one table away from the fridge, just in front of the sandwich selection.

‘Do we get to eat this stuff?’ Sophia wondered aloud.

A grey-haired man behind the counter piped up: ‘Those extras passes get you all access to these culinary delights. We’ve got something for everyone; just tell old Curtis what you’re after.’

‘Ooh,’ Sophia replied. ‘If I could have anything, I’d go for a Philly cheese steak sandwich.’

‘Make that two,’ Ivy put in.

Curtis rubbed his hands together and beamed. ‘Excellent choice, ladies!’ He sliced open two white baguettes, put them on a grill behind him and started scooping heaps of shredded beef into a skillet.