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Authors: Pete Johnson

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BOOK: How to Get Famous
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To cheer things up further I leaned right
back, put my left arm up my armpit and
belched twice. Everyone started grinning
and relaxing after that. David even began
telling me about his collection of magic
hats at home while Celia laughed so much
her squad of relatives came piling over,
peering at her anxiously.

'It's all right, I just belched,' I explained,
'and she's laughing about it.'

This made her laugh all the more until
one of the assistants from the TV company
came trotting over and frowned disapprovingly
at us all looking so merry. 'The
Moment of Truth' – that's what they call
the results part of the show – 'is about to
start,' she announced.

7.55 p.m.

'The Moment of Truth' is over.

All six of us stood on the stage, each a
little way apart from the other. Then Stew
bounded in front of us waving an envelope.
'The results are in. Good luck, everyone.'

I saw my mum standing in the wings.
She was right in the middle of the flock of
parents and other hangers on. She looked
a bit fed up. Poor old Mum thinks I'm
about to be humiliated. But at least I've
been on television tonight. And a week ago
I'd never have dreamed this was possible.
I keep reminding myself about that.

Stew said, 'Now in no particular order,
the first person through to the next round
is' – an agonizingly long pause before . . .
'Celia.' Above her head this spotlight
beamed down on her. Blinking furiously,
she bowed, while tears flooded down her
face. Then with a triumphant bow she
skipped off. I joined in the deafening
applause. She had an incredibly loud voice
and deserved to go on.

Three more people were safe and then
there were just two people left . . . David
and me. I said to myself, 'Look, face it,
you're going home, it's all over for you, so
don't embarrass yourself by falling to your
knees and sobbing. Take your defeat in a
carefree manner with a cool smile playing
about your lips . . . '

'And the last place in next week's show
goes to . . .

Of course this pause was the longest one
of all, stretching right into infinity. I kept
saying to myself, 'Come on now, get the
cool smile ready . . .'

'TOBEY, TOBEY.' He didn't say it twice
actually, but it seemed to echo through my
head. Despite getting the lowest score in a
talent show since time began, I was
through!

Bright lights lit up all around me and
the audience were yelling and cheering
and Stew was pumping my hand. 'Thanks
to all the viewers at home who voted for
you – you'll be back next week. Hey, well
done. Now, have you got anything to say to
the people who voted for you?'
I replied, 'Just to say that tonight has
been the greatest experience I've ever had.
And getting all those votes is the best
thing to happen to me in my entire life.
And I'd like to come and visit every single
person who voted for me and thank them
personally.'

'Is that a promise or a threat?' called out
Merv from the judges' panel.

'Oh come on, you've got to admit the
boy's done well tonight,' cried Stew. 'Any
of our judges care to explain why the
British public have voted for Tobey so
enthusiastically.'

'Because he's my little sizzler,' cooed
Grace, 'and he's a handsome lad too, with
his dark curly hair and cheeky smile.' She
gave a mock swoon. 'And I'm so thrilled for
you.' She paused to mop her eyes. 'Can't say
any more,' she gasped, 'I'm just very happy.'

More applause from the audience,
although Merv looked as if he wanted to
say something far less flattering but
restrained himself. Then I sprinted off
while Stew played David's highlights.

A few moments later David staggered
off. His dad, his face bright red with grief,
clamped an arm around him. 'Magic is his
whole life,' he announced to no one in
particular. 'Why couldn't they see that?'

Meanwhile, everyone was swarming
round congratulating me – and Mum as
well, who looked dazed but very pleased. I
don't think anyone expected me to still be
in, so they couldn't quite erase that look of
total disbelief in their eyes. I was totally
ecstatic with the result but I kept noticing
David and his dad sitting glumly apart
from everyone else, like two collapsed
bags. I even felt a bit guilty.

So I went over and said, 'Hello.' They
both glared at me. 'Just wanted to say I'm
really sorry you're out because I thought
your magic tricks were great tonight
. . . some of the best I've ever seen.'

The unfriendliness on David's dad's face
hardened. Then he got up and put his still
very red face up close up to mine. For a
moment I thought he was going to punch
me. Instead a light mist of spray hit me as
he hissed, 'This show isn't about talent –
otherwise my son would still be in . . . but
we knew they needed to improve the
ratings so they've brought a freak in: every
show has to have one now.'

It's not the very first time I've been
called a freak actually. But I've never had
an adult describe me as one before. That
was a new experience. And I was gaping
with shock until David got up too and said
in this odd, squeaky voice, 'You won the
vote tonight, so congratulations.' I think
he was trying to show that at least one
member of his family had some sporting
spirit. And even his dad was looking a bit
sheepish now after his little outburst.

Then Stew burst over to me, 'I was just
saying to your mum, Tobey, I loved the
way you answered Merv back tonight –
and as for your impression, that was
television gold.'

Well, that can't be bad, can it, being called
'television gold'. And then Stew told me how
the phones had been red hot with people
voting for me. And I don't think that was
because I reminded them of the Elephant
Man either. No, they were applauding my
talent for entertaining them.

I am right, aren't I?

10.15 p.m.

Mum and I found Dad waiting for us at the
door. 'I saw the whole programme,' he said
in a low, husky whisper.

'And didn't Tobey perform superbly?'
cried Mum.

Dad looked a bit shocked by her full-on
enthusiasm (I was a little surprised
myself). 'Yes,' he croaked, 'he didn't show
any nerves, took to all that carry-on quite
naturally.' Then he asked in an unusually,
quiet voice, 'And is this what you really
want, Tobey?'

'Well, of course it is!' I cried, shocked by
the question. 'Fame and glory is what
everyone wants . . . well, everyone apart
from you, Dad.' I looked at him. 'You think
it's all meaningless tripe, don't you?' Then
I grinned. 'But you will watch me again
next week, won't you?'

Dad swallowed hard, and then said
bravely, 'I wouldn't miss it.'

Chapter Fifteen

SATURDAY APRIL 24TH

I was in the market with the relics this
morning. We were strolling past
this clothes stall when a boy called out to
me, 'Were you on the telly last night?'

'Without a shadow of a doubt, I was,' I
replied eagerly.

The boy yelled to this woman on the
next stall. 'That guy did an impression of a
cat being sick on
Cloud Nine
yesterday.'

The woman laughed and said, 'Good for
you.'

'I saw you as well,' cried this girl hovering
by the woman's stall. 'You'll be on
again next week, won't you?' she added,
smiling shyly at me. I grinned back in my
friendliest fashion, because I'll always
have time for my fans.

'That's right, I will. And thank you for
all your support.'

I gave them a wave (I'm really quite
good at waving now), then turned to my
mum and dad, who were watching all this
in such a shocked fashion. 'I'm afraid
you're going to have to get used to this sort
of thing happening,' I said kindly.

SUNDAY APRIL 25TH

Georgia said something very wise tonight.
'Your win really surprised all those stupid
judges on Friday. But they're not important
– it's the public who matter. And
they just love you.'

I've already started working on another
new rap poem for the next show which I
hope my many new fans will also like.

MONDAY APRIL 26TH

'Got a stalker yet?' That was the first
question which greeted me at school today.
The next: 'Did you get any money?'

'I've been advised not to answer that
one,' I replied.

And then: 'Did you meet any hot babes?'
to which I just smiled highly mysteriously.
Everyone, it seemed, thought I was
'rubbish, total rubbish', and couldn't
believe I wasn't voted out. 'It must
have been a fiddle.' But they still wanted
to know every little detail of Friday
night.

And when I suddenly cried out – as a
joke, 'Ah, here come my two big, old
bodyguards,' everyone whirled round,
really expecting to see them.

Miss Lytton told me she'd delayed going
out for a meal just to watch me and she
really admired my confidence. In the afternoon
the headmaster sent for me again (he
and I are practically best mates now): the
local paper wants to do another interview,
this time at school. And all the time the
reporter and photographer were there
the headmaster kept hovering about.

Everyone wants a part of my fame, and
I'm happy to share it with them all.

TUESDAY APRIL 27TH

After school today two girls aged about
eight or nine asked me for my autograph.
Of course I was prepared for such a
moment (been ready for years in fact), and
I had my signing pen all ready. One girl
asked me to sign the back of her maths
book; the other wanted me to plaster a
signature right across her bag. I also
chatted to the two celebrity-hunters about
Cloud Nine
. They'd both loved my
impression of a cat being sick.

Then I signed another scrap of paper for
a girl who always watches
Cloud Nine
and
would be really sorry to have missed me
today but she's got a bad cold. So I wrote:
'Get well soon – if not sooner', on her scrap
of paper as well. The girls said she'd be
thrilled with that.

So there you are. I have signed my first
three autographs. Strange how the really
important events in your life can happen
quite unexpectedly.

WEDNESDAY APRIL 28TH

Cloud Nine
called. They want me to drop
the rap poem on Friday and concentrate
on my animal impressions. I can repeat
the one of the cat being sick and they
would also like other ones of a similar
gruesome nature. This has come as a bolt
from the blue, but I am a professional –
and if that's what the nation wants from
me, who am I to say no?

THURSDAY APRIL 29TH

4.25 p.m.

Cloud Nine
has called again, just to let me
know the studio car will be calling for me
at 4.00 p.m. tomorrow. Another great
moment in my life.

8.30 p.m.

Been round Georgia's house practising my
animal impressions. She liked my new
ones: especially the one of a dog when it's
tied up and has just spotted a cat. She said
it was highly atmospheric. As I was leaving
I asked her in an anguished whisper,
'I'm not allowing myself to be turned into
a laughing stock, am I?'

She said, 'No, you're just giving the
public what they want.'

Her reply reassured me greatly.

FRIDAY APRIL 30TH

Another dramatic night at
Cloud Nine
.

Before I went on I was shivering with
nerves. Me just doing animal impressions
– how was that going to work? The
audience could get bored with me and
start shouting, 'Off, Off.' I'm really going to
have to slam-dunk my personality tonight.

But as soon as I got out onto that
stage . . . well, I just wanted to stay out
there for ever, especially as the audience
lapped up every one of my impressions.

When it was time to go to the judges,
Grace beamed at me and cried, 'I don't
care what anyone says, when you are on,
the place lights up . . . and I love your
confidence. Well done, my little sizzler.'
But she still only gave me 4/10. Merv gave
me 2/10
again
and said I should have been
voted out last week – and urged everyone
to be sure and vote me out tonight.

Stew said, 'The only way Tobey will
get to be in next week's show is with
the audience's help at home. Is there anything
you would like to say to them,
Tobey?'

'Just if I do go home tonight,' I said, 'this
has still been the best experience ever.' I
meant every word of that and I really
thought I would be off this time. But
incredibly, amazingly, once again the
public kept me in.

'They have been voting in their
thousands for you,' said Stew to me. 'How
do you feel about that?'

'I feel like the luckiest person in the
whole world,' I said.

SATURDAY MAY 1ST

Today I returned in triumph to the theatre
which had rejected me for
The Secret
Garden
. They had a little ceremony in the
afternoon. My mum and dad were there,
also Georgia, her mum and Alicia Kay,
who actually presented me with this
engraved plate with the theatre's name on,
and mine, and the presentation date. It's
not a plate for eating your dinner off
though; it's one you hang on the wall in a
place of pride.

I was a bit choked actually, even though
I'd rather have been given the plate for my
acting talent (I was awarded it for bravery
– ha ha). But still, it was another glowing
moment in my life, only spoiled by the fact
that poor Georgia had to leave early (she
wasn't feeling at all well).

How do I feel now? I'll tell you exactly.
It's as if I've suddenly sprouted these
invisible wings of luck and now I'm just
soaring along, really high in the sky.
And I don't ever want to come down.

Not ever.

BOOK: How to Get Famous
12.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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