“There won’t be any film stars there,” I said. “Only Sean Rivers, and he’s retired. In fact, it’s probably best to act as if you have no idea who he is, especially in front of Anne-Marie. She can be a bit territorial.”
“Only Sean Rivers,” Dakshima laughed. “You can’t say the words only and Sean Rivers in the same sentence! I love his film The Underdogs. I’ve seen it about a hundred times. I can’t believe he’s Anne-Marie’s boyfriend. I was sure he’d like normal girls like me.”
“Anne-Marie is normal,” I defended my old friend to my new one. “Yes, she is very rich; yes her dad is a movie producer and her mum is a fashion industry mogul. But it doesn’t stop her from being one of the best and most loyal friends I have. And it’s not all easy for her, you know. She never sees her parents; she spends most of her time alone with the housekeeper and her older brother. Money can’t make you happy.”
“No, but it can make being sad a lot easier to deal with,” Dakshima observed.
“Starting a new school is hard,” I tried to explain. “Knowing you, Hannah and Talitha and the others makes it better…easier. I want my new friends to get on with my old ones, starting with you.”
Dakshima watched me for a moment as if she was deciding whether we were friends or not. “All right then,” she smiled after a moment. “I’ll give a go, seeing as you are a movie star too.”
“I was in a film,” I protested, still feeling a bit awkward about my famous past. “That’s a whole different thing.”
“Just for the record, I thought that The Lost Treasure of King Arthur was pretty good actually,” Dakshima said. “Not the best film I’ve ever seen, like. But I didn’t hate it. You were all right in it. And Sean was well amazing…Anyway I’ve always wanted to go to a show biz party.”
“Only an hour till the party – better decide what to wear,” I said, opening my wardrobe doors.
I took one of the outfits I had brought home from Hollywood out of my wardrobe; a dark, ruby red velvet dress with a drop waist and a silk rose on the hip. It was exactly the sort of “fabulous” thing I should be wearing to Anne-Marie’s party, but I wasn’t sure if I could bring myself to do it.
“That’s nice,” Dakshima said, wrinkling her nose a little bit. “It’s a bit girly, but I suppose that’s dresses for you.”
“It reminds me of Hollywood,” I said, thoughtfully.
“Well it’s perfect then, isn’t it? That’s what Anne-Marie wants. For everyone to dress up like Hollywood Stars?”
“I hated Hollywood,” I said. “What with getting hounded out of school by the nastiest girl I’ve ever met, and then hounded out of Hollywood by critics and the press. In the end I ran away, stole my mum’s credit card, booked myself a flight and came home in the middle of the night alone because I didn’t think mum would let me.”
“Weren’t you scared?” Dakshima asked me, her eyes widening.
“Seriously scared. I just had to get out of Hollywood, right then. Mum said anything could have happened to me.” I paused, remembering how much Mum had cried and shouted at me when she caught up with me. “Anyway, reminding myself about Hollywood isn’t the most fun thing, which is why I don’t really want to wear this dress.”
“Rubbish,” Dakshima said firmly, without a shred of sympathy. I looked at her. “That’s plain rubbish, Ruby. Put the dress on – you’ll look really great in it. And you can’t tell me any remotely sane thirteen-year-old girl is not going to wear something totally cool because it reminds her of a place that wasn’t so cool. If you wear that dress tonight then from tomorrow it will remind you of Anne-Marie’s party. Problem sorted and it’s all good.”
I looked at the dress and then took it off the hanger. Dakshima was right – what was I thinking, I had a whole wardrobe of clothes that Jade Caruso would kill for! Leaving them unworn was unthinkable, no matter how much they reminded me of Hollywood.
“You and Anne-Marie are more alike than you think,” I said, my voice muffled as I temporarily got my head stuck in an armhole.
“If you say so,” Dakshima snorted, pulling the dress over my shoulders. “Nice one,” she said, with a nod of approval.
Just then there was a knock at the door and Mum popped her head round it.
“Look who’s here,” she said, pushing the door back for Nydia, who was wearing a green silk dress with a paler green stole wrapped around her shoulders. She had sprayed her skin with gold glitter spray so that she sparkled.
“Hello,” Dakshima said, with a friendly and slightly shy smile.
“You look great,” I said. “It’s a shame Greg is still up north – he’d be blown away!”
“Thanks,” Nydia said, before adding, “I texted him a photo.
“Right, well,” Mum said, with the funny look on her face that she usually had when she wanted to hug me but knew I’d drop dead from embarrassment if she did. “Hurry up and get your glad rags on then, girls. I’m dropping you off at Anne-Marie’s and Nydia’s dad is picking you up at 10.30 sharp, so be ready, no excuses, OK? I want you in this door at 10.45 latest. Dakshima’s mum and dad are trusting me to take care of her tonight, so don’t let me down.”
“We won’t,” I said, rolling my eyes at the others.
Secretly though I liked having my old un-Hollywood mum back again. Since she started going out with world famous star of stage and screen Jeremy Fort, she kept her roots tinted and her nails manicured and wore high heels on weekdays to go to the supermarket, that was true. But at least the orange skin and stiff face that she had experimented with had faded away, and with it had gone the monster mom she’d become for a while. In Hollywood she’d been so ambitious for me and blinded by the glamour that just for a bit she forgot about asking me what I wanted or how I felt about everything that happened over there. So I didn’t mind if she told me off for leaving my shoes in the hall or wiped off the lip-gloss I tried wearing to school with spit on a tissue. That was my mum, the one who wanted what was best for me, even if it was sometimes boring and a total lip-gloss-free zone.
With Anne-Marie unavailable, it was Dakshima who did our make-up, me first and then Nydia. Considering jeans and trainers are her favourite things, she seemed like an expert. (It would have been hard to be worse than me. I tried out some pink and purple eye shadow a while back and my Auntie Pat asked me if I had conjunctivitis.)
“You’re good at eyeliner,” I said, admiring hers, which swished out at the corners making her eyes look even bigger than they were.
“Well, it’s the law in my house to learn how to do make-up. My mum started teaching me when I was about three,” Dakshima said with a laugh.
“What are you going to wear?” Nydia asked.
“This,” Dakshima said uncertainly. “I’ve got a couple of dresses but this is the sparkliest most “fabulous” thing I could think of. It’s my sister’s and if she finds out I’ve borrowed it I will be dead, so don’t let me spill anything on it.”
Dakshima held up a two piece Indian trouser suit in a rich deep purple that was decorated with gold thread and beading all around the neck and sleeves.
“Wow!” Nydia said.
“It’s a bit more Bollywood than Hollywood,” Dakshima said, a little uncertainly.
“It’s amazing,” Nydia said. “Ooh, this is going to be a good party, I can feel it.”
“I hope so,” I said, as Mum called us from downstairs. “Otherwise Anne-Marie will never shut up about it.”
“Rubes,”