How to Get Famous (12 page)

FRIDAY MAY 14TH

Tonight Merv snapped, with sparks flying
out of his eyes, that if I was voted through
again he would quit
Cloud Nine
, because
it had stopped being a show about talent.

He got masses of screen time rubbishing
me too. I did get a chance to answer him
back though – a whole five seconds. I said,
'Merv, shut your cakehole because I'm
making my dream come true here. And no
one can impersonate sick cats better than
me.'

And then the longest moment of my life.
I've never wanted to hear my name called
out so badly.

AND IT WAS.

I went charging onto that stage like a
mad rhino. And the audience all started
chanting my name: 'Tobey! Tobey!'

Then I saw Merv scowling away and I
said, 'If you leave now, Merv, you can catch
the last bus home.' The audience went
wild then. And even my mum was hopping
about with joy.

So now I'm in the final. And if I win next
week, well my life couldn't be any more
perfect.

FRIDAY MAY 21ST

THE FINAL.

Here's the result. I was very nearly the
winner. I came second out of two.

Actually, I didn't expect to win tonight,
especially after they'd interviewed all
Celia's relations, including her ninetyfour-
year-old great-grandmother, saying
all she lived for now was to see Celia get
her chance: as Georgia said to me afterwards,
'How could Celia not win after
that?'

Still, I got a very good cheer and Stew
said I'd been on 'an amazing journey'.

'But here's where it ends,' cut in Merv
(yes, the gobby geek was back). He said I'd
'had a good run but finally talent had won
out'. Merv had such a gruesome smirk on
his face when he said this too.

Still, I congratulated Celia on camera
and off camera too. Actually, I think she
will do really well. And I like her. But
I can't tell you how crushed with
disappointment I was.

To get that close to winning – to smell
victory – and then . . . I'd have made such
a good celebrity as well.

Later at home, Mum and Dad told me
that in the end it's the person – not their
achievements – that matter and I had
been an excellent loser tonight. Georgia
and I chatted for ages too and she said I
must keep the dream alive.

But for now – it's back to my old freaking
life.

SATURDAY MAY 22ND

I was eating spaghetti on toast in the
kitchen when my life changed once more.

Dad was talking on the phone to someone
in a really astonished voice, and then
he stomped into the kitchen, shaking his
head in complete bewilderment.

For one wild moment I thought he was
going to announce there'd been a recount
at
Cloud Nine
and I'd won after all. But
no, he didn't say that. Instead he
announced, 'They want Tobey in some
advertisements for cat food.'

Mum and I were just gaping at him. But
it's completely true. An advertising agency
wants me to do my now really quite
famous impression of a cat being sick,
while tasting all the normal 'very inferior'
cat products. Then I will cry, 'But yo,
listen,' and impersonate a deeply happy
cat savouring every morsel of a brand new
cat food called Feline Favourites.

And they're going to pay me money to do
this. Dad won't tell me how much. But he
whispered the sum to Mum and she went
bright red with shock.

'Now, I want you to think carefully
before you agree to do this,' began Dad.

'All right, I will,' I interrupted. I paused
for a whole millionth of a second. 'OK, I've
thought about it. And of course I'll do it.'
Then I added, 'And Dad, you're just going
to have to get used to having a star about
the place.'

Mum laughed – and even Dad smiled
faintly.

Then I called Georgia. She was so
astonished she could hardly speak.

WEDNESDAY MAY 26TH

Tonight, Mark from the advertising
agency came to my house to meet me and
the relics. And I was remembering how
badly Dad had behaved when Sue from
Fighting Families
had called. Well, he
was much improved tonight – hardly
embarrassing at all, in fact. I really think
Dad's been on a bit of an amazing journey
these past weeks too.

THURSDAY MAY 27TH

A teen magazine called
Hi
wants to do an
interview with me. It's for a regular
feature they run called: 'Me and My Best
Friend.' And on Saturday they will come
and chat not only with me – but Georgia
too. I was chuffed about that because this
could give Georgia a lift up the celebrity
ladder too.

So I rang her, dead excited. And yeah, I
think she was pleased.

SATURDAY MAY 29TH

10.30 a.m.

Georgia and I are sitting in McDonald's
waiting for
Hi
magazine. A photographer
as well as an interviewer will be coming
along. So it's an exciting event. And yet
she looked as excited as a bag of frozen
peas.

I decided that she must be nervous, so I
gabbled away, 'You're shy now, but once
the interviewer starts you'll have the time
of your life talking about me. What could
be more fun than that? And don't say
"Anything".'

She still looked far away though. It
must be nerves.

Still, I'm sure she'll be fine.

10.50 a.m.

No, she won't – because she's gone.

Some people on another table had
recognized me. I was telling them about
my new career doing cat food adverts
when I happened to glance back . . .

I thought at first Georgia had just gone
to the loo, but then I saw she'd left me a
little note placed right on top of the menu.
It said:

Tobey,
I'M REALLY SORRY BUT I CAN'T GO
THROUGH WITH THIS.
Georgia.

SATURDAY MAY 29TH

2.30 p.m.

What a total nightmare these past hours
have been!

After I got that note from Georgia I tore
out of McDonald's looking everywhere for
her. But she'd vanished.

I rushed back to find
Hi
magazine waiting
for me. I mumbled something about
Georgia being taken ill, but I wasn't very
convincing (I was too worked up) and I
don't think
Hi
magazine believed me for
an instant.

And they were pretty mad actually.
They said, in clipped tones, they'd ring me
later to discuss the feature. After which I
raced about searching for Georgia again.

I finally tracked her down at her house.
She opened the door and then looked away
from me and said wearily, 'You'd better
come in . . . my mum's just gone out, but I
didn't go with her as I thought you might
call round about now.'

We went into the kitchen. I waited for
her to at least apologize. But she didn't,
just seemed to be very busy filling up the
kettle. I cried out, 'That's the last time I do
anything for you.'

She whirled round. 'Oh, you're so kind
letting me go along as your fan, your little
side-kick.'

I tried to laugh, but only an odd croak
came out.

'Well, maybe I don't want the crumbs off
your plate,' she practically shouted.

'Now you're just being stupid.'

'Am I really?'

'Of course you are.' I gave another
croaky little laugh. 'You sound all twisted
and jealous.'

Then she said quietly, 'No, I'm just very
angry.'

'About what?'

'About the fact,' she went on in the same
low, whispery voice, 'that I was the one
who played Mary Lennox in
The Secret
Garden
– you weren't even in the play. No,
you just opened a door. But Tobey, why
did you have to do that on what you
yourself said was the greatest night of my
life?'

'Hey, I didn't do it deliberately. I didn't
even realize I was stopping a burglary.'
'I know!' she cried. 'But now good things
are flooding in for you while nothing at all
is happening for me. Not one single call.'

'But you can't blame me for that.' I
looked at her. 'Or maybe you do.'

Her voice rose. 'Yes, I do actually.'

'So no one's ringing you because I caught
two robbers on your opening night?'

Exactly right,' she cried. 'You stole my
night of triumph from me.'

I could feel this heat coming off me now.
How crazy and mean blaming me. 'Well,
maybe no one's rung because you're
nowhere near as good at acting as you
think you are.'

The very instant I'd said it, I wanted to
snatch those words back.

But Georgia was already running from
the kitchen to her front door. She flung it
open and said in a quick, low voice, 'Just
get out – I don't ever want to see you
again.'

Anger surged up in me again and as I
left I shouted, 'Just to remind you, if it
hadn't been for me you wouldn't even have
known about
The Secret Garden
auditions.
And I think you're beyond ungrateful.
You're—' But the door had already
slammed behind me, so without another
word I left.

SUNDAY MAY 30TH

I'm nowhere near as angry with Georgia
now. In fact, I'm not angry at all really.

You see, I've been remembering how I
felt after Georgia's triumphant dress
rehearsal of
The Secret Garden
– pleased,
but oh so depressed. Somehow, her success
seemed to magnify my own roaring
failure. And then this grey gloom – like a
heavy fog – landed on me, totally blotting
out everything else.

My fame hasn't really made Georgia jealous
– just very, very miserable.
And any friend would feel exactly the same.

MONDAY MAY 31ST

Georgia just rang. She said she wanted to
apologize for what she'd said to me earlier.

'You spouted some claptrap – and so did
I – it's best all's forgotten,' I said.

She agreed at once.

But it wasn't. Not really. And she and I
spoke so politely to each other, it made my
heart ache. I could have been chatting to
one of my aunties.

I'm even more depressed now than when
we had that row.

I just want to make everyone happy –
and make myself happy too. That's all. So
why is that so hard?

TUESDAY JUNE 1ST

It's Georgia's birthday next week
(Thursday 10th). And I've decided I'm
going to do something very special for her.
And I want to give Georgia a gift which
she'd really, really like.

WEDNESDAY JUNE 2ND

My advertising agency (there's three
words I never thought I'd write) has
called. They want to start filming my
advert at their London Studios a week on
Friday, starting at 9 a.m. This means
Mum and I will be staying in a super, posh
hotel on Thursday night. Normally I'd be
so thrilled but it means I'll be away on the
night of Georgia's birthday . . .

Fear not though, because inspiration
has struck. Suddenly I know how to give
Georgia the best birthday present ever.

THURSDAY JUNE 10TH

6.45 p.m.

Georgia never suspected a thing. There
she was in London this evening with her
mum, thinking she's going to watch
another film premiere from behind the
barricades. Then up I popped.

'Happy birthday and all that rhubarb,' I
said. 'I have a gift for you. So will you
please follow me?'

'What is it?' she asked, looking astonished.

'All will be revealed shortly,' I said, leading
her up to the entrance of the cinema.
'By the way, this groupie keeps following
me around. She even claims to be my
mum.'

And then my mum bobbed up. There
was a woman with her. 'Oh yes, this is
Laura from my advertising agency, well
not my advertising agency, but you know
what I mean,' I said, 'and she's looking
after Mum and me while we're in London.
Now I never keep any tickets about my
person. Mega-stars can't be bothered with
such trivialities. But Laura has some you
just might be interested in.'

And then Laura held up two large
tickets for tonight's premiere, while
grinning away. 'These are for you and your
mother,' she said.

Georgia looked at them and then made a
strange, gulping noise like a highly
emotional goldfish. 'You're not going to
faint, are you?' I asked.

'I might,' she cried. 'This is certainly a
dream, isn't it?' Then she turned to her
mum. 'Did you know about this?'

Her mum grinned. 'I'm afraid so: been
plotting it for days, in fact.'

At the entrance to the Odeon a rather
snooty guy examined our premiere tickets,
and then he smiled thinly and let us go in.
'Thank you so much, my man,' I said.
'My butler will be along with your tip
later.'

Then I whispered to Georgia: 'Let's take
the next part really slowly.' And we did.
We strolled up that deep, red carpet, just
as if we'd been doing it for years. Then we
turned and waved at the excited crowd
behind the barricades.

'I think I heard someone call out your
name,' gasped Georgia.

'You probably did,' I said casually. Then
I gave another madly friendly wave before
turning to go inside.

Colour flamed into Georgia's cheeks now
as she whispered, 'I don't believe we're
actually here.'

Before I could answer, our eyes were
completely dazzled by an incredible burst
of light just inside the foyer. And right in
the middle of all this dazzling brightness
stood Ant and Dec, totally unconcerned by
all the exploding flashbulbs around them.

Afterwards they shook hands with
some of the photographers and then Dec
(that's the shorter one) caught my eye
for a moment and called out, 'It's the
sizzler!'

To think of Dec – a TV superstar –
knowing about me. It was such an incredible
moment that I was utterly
speechless.

Yet Laura just said, rather briskly I
thought, 'Oh, famous people are more
starstruck than anybody. And there's
nothing that goes down better than the
latest new famous person.'

But then Georgia, her eyes sparkling,
murmured, 'You know, Tobey, being
famous is like joining a very exclusive club
– and now you're a member.'

10.30 p.m.

The film we saw at the premiere was, in
Georgia's opinion and mine, the greatest
one ever made. But then, how could you
not love a film with actors from
Holby City
sitting right next to you? And with fame
and glamour and happiness just shining
all round?

Georgia and I kept nudging each other
and having another spasm of joy as we
spotted someone else famous. And after
the film had finished we lingered in the
foyer still not quite believing that we'd
broken into such a magic atmosphere.

'This is where we belong,' I said.

Georgia agreed. 'And I feel so at home
here already.'

'That's because we're both natural
celebrities,' I said.

There was a party afterwards too. Only
we didn't have tickets for that. I suppose
they thought I was too young (totally not
true), so instead the five of us had a meal
at this restaurant just round the corner
from Leicester Square.

Of course we drank a toast to Georgia's
birthday. She'd heard some good news
today as well. Some Year Nine girls at her
school were putting on a play and wanted
Georgia to be in it. 'The only Year Seven
girl to be asked,' said Georgia's mum
proudly.

Georgia nodded, and then added, 'Oh,
it's only a school play but I don't think I'd
be able to live if I couldn't act again
somewhere.'

'And you've got a blinding talent,
Georgia,' I said quietly. 'You've got to
treasure that.'

She looked away. 'Don't be nice to me. I
don't deserve it. I've been so jealous of
you.'

'And I can quite see why you should be,'
I said. 'You get picked by a TV star to be in
a play – the lead part too. And you were
amazing. No other word for it, while I'm
currently a little bit famous for doing some
impressions of sick cats.'

'You're more than a little bit famous,'
said Georgia.

'Well, I'm very modest, as you know,' I
grinned. 'But I've been thinking about
fame quite a lot lately,' I said. 'Got a new
theory about it actually. Want to hear it?'

'Oh yeah, of course.'

'Well, in my opinion fame is like a giant
blue bubble.'

She giggled. 'What?'

'No, listen. This blue bubble can quite
suddenly come floating and shining
towards you, showering you with glory.
And it's great being even a bit famous –
don't let anyone tell you differently. But
the thing is, Georgia, this blue bubble of
fame appears when it feels like it. You can
try and do all sorts of different things to
attract its attention – well, look at me.
And not one of them really worked, did
they?

'In the end, that blue bubble crept up on
me when I was least expecting it. Now I
want it to hang around as long as possible,
keeping the dream alive. But I know it can
vanish in an instant. And once it goes it
might never come back to me. So I've
decided something,' I paused. 'Well, I can't
spend my whole life just waiting for the
blue bubble's next appearance, can I? That
could send you mad.'

Georgia nodded and I sensed she was
listening to me really intently.

I went on, 'There's got to be something
else going on too. That's why I thought I
might come to that drama club with you
one Sunday.'

'Oh yeah, great,' she said at once.

I said. 'I know I'll never be a deep,
intense actor like you – so I want to find
my own style. But I do get such a kick out
of entertaining people. In fact, don't tell
anyone but I think I like that even more
than being famous. That's why I'd like to
learn a bit more about it.'

'Come along this Sunday,' she said.

'Yeah, OK – they're not going to ask me
to pretend I'm a dying leaf or a pile of
horse manure, are they?'

'When
you
turn up, anything is possible,'
she laughed, then said, 'Thanks a million
times for such a brilliant night that I'll
never forget – and I'm sorry I've been such
a moody old grump bucket lately.'

I said, 'When your best friend becomes a
superstar, it's very hard not to be a moody
grump bucket, especially when he becomes
the country's leading impersonator
of sick cats.'

She started to laugh, then gave my hand
a highly affectionate squeeze and said, 'I
really hope the blue bubble of fame stays
with you for a very, very long time.'

Do you want to know something else?
Nothing that happened tonight – not even
Dec knowing my name – was more
brilliant than her saying that.