Pumpkin Pie (8 page)

“Vomit-making! Pukey!
Yuck!”

Even though Zoë wasn’t one of the gorgeous ones, I suppose she was sort of cheeky-looking. She had what Mrs Ambrose called “a televisual face”. The sort of face that can be filmed from almost any angle.

“Either the camera likes you or it doesn’t.”

That was what
she
said. Zoë. Talk about loving yourself! She really reckoned she was some kind of star. Not that she was the only one who’d been on the telly or appeared in commercials. Several of the kids had. Mark had even been in the West End! But he didn’t boast about it. Zoë just really fancied herself. Everyone said she was going to go places; even Saffy. Saffy said, “She’s the sort that does.”

She said that you had to be a bit big-headed and pushy and think a lot of yourself, because if you didn’t think a lot of yourself then who else would?

I wondered if this was true. If so, I found it rather depressing. More than anything else in the world I wanted to have loads of confidence; but I didn’t want to be big-headed and pushy! Did this mean I wouldn’t ever get anywhere? I asked Saffy and she said it depended where I wanted to get. She said, “I expect you could probably get somewhere if you just wanted to do something ordinary, like working in a shop. But not if you wanted to be a big movie star.”

My face must have fallen, because she then added comfortingly that that was all right because I didn’t want to be a big movie star, did I?

“It’s not what we came for,” she said. “You know what we came for!” And she pulled a face and jerked her head and rolled her eyes in the direction of a group of boys on the opposite side of the street. (We were on our way to Friday classes at the time.)
“That’s
what we came for… right?”

I said, “Right. But I wouldn’t actually mind being a movie star!”

It just, like, blurted out before I could stop it. I thought for a dreadful moment that Saffy was going to laugh, but she is my friend and we always take each other seriously. After all, I had taken her seriously when she once confided in me that she thought she would like to be a missionary and go round converting people. Which was really quite funny considering she was the one who was sent out of an RE class for having an unseemly fit of the giggles at what Miss Cooper called “a totally inappropriate moment”. (She has now decided that it is wrong to try and convert people as she feels they are probably quite happy left as they are. And, in any case, she is an atheist.)

“Do you think I’m being stupid?” I said.

Saffy said that it was never stupid to be ambitious and want to get on in life.

“Yes, but do you think I stand any chance?” I said.

Bracingly Saffy said that everybody stood a chance.

“It depends how determined you are.”

“I’m very determined,” I said. I was. I really was! I could see a whole glorious future unfolding before me.

“Well, this is what’s important,” said Saffy. “Knowing what you want and going for it.”

“Even though I don’t have much confidence?” I said.

Saffy told me that I had got to get confidence. She said there was no reason why I shouldn’t have it.

“You know you can speak OK, Mrs A’s always holding you up as an example. And you do have confidence when you get up and act.”

I said, “It’s different when you’re acting. You’re being someone else.”

“But what about when you have to go for auditions?” said Saffy.

We’d been learning about auditions just recently from Mrs Ambrose. How to prepare ourselves, and what to wear, and stuff like that.

“You’ve got to have confidence being
you,”
said Saffy. “I can’t think why you don’t! I would if I were you.”

“It’s all right for you,” I said. “You’re thin!”

“Yes,” said Saffy, “but you’re pretty.”

I felt my face turn bright pink. It was the nicest thing she’d ever said to me! I felt quite touched and immediately began trying to think of something I could say to her in return.

“I’d rather be skinny like you,” I said.

“Then you wouldn’t have boobs,” said Saffy. “You have to have boobs to be a movie star.” She sighed. “I don’t suppose I’ll ever have any.”

It’s true that her mum hasn’t; not to speak of. But Petal has, and she is skinny! I said this to Saffy, but she said that Petal was slim, not skinny. She said the two were not the same.

“Skinny is thin and scrawny; slim is when you’ve got some shape.”

“Like Twinkle,” I said. I think you have to be honest about these things. I didn’t like her very much, but she did have a figure to die for.

“Yes,” said Saffy, “but that’s
all
she’s got. She can’t act to save her life!”

“She’s been in a commercial,” I said.

“Well, you know why,” said Saffy. “It’s ‘cos she’s pushy! Her and Zoë. They’re both the same. It doesn’t mean they can
act.”

Now that she mentioned it, I knew that she was right. About them being pushy, I mean. They were always elbowing and shoving, to get themselves up front.

Saffy said, “You gotta face it, babe! It’s the way it’s done.”

I looked at her, doubtfully. I’m not a very shoving sort of person. I wanted to be discovered – but not by pushing myself forward! I wanted someone to come along and simply stare right through the likes of Zoë and Twink.

“Who is that girl at the back?” they would say. “The one with those startling blue eyes?”

Everyone would turn and stare. Mrs Ambrose would say, “That’s Jenny… one of our little stars.”

And I would be told to come out to the front and I would be signed up right there and then for this big part on telly, and Zoë and Twink would gnash their teeth and feel utterly humiliated. Ho ho!

“Babe, you gotta get real,” said Saffy, in this accent she fondly believes is American. “It’s no use hiding your light under a flowerpot, or whatever it is. You gotta, like, go up to people and say,
I’m Jenny Penny! Take notice of me!”

“Just like that?” I said, alarmed.

“Well, not in so many words,” said Saffy. “But you can’t let people like that stupid Twinkle elbow you out the way! Just remember, you’re as good as she is any day.”

I thought to myself that Saffy can sometimes be so wise, and so clever. I
was
as good as Twinkle! Twinkle couldn’t act to save her life. The only way she’d got to be a member of the all-girl band in
Sob Story
was by pushing and shoving. She couldn’t sing, she couldn’t dance, she couldn’t even speak properly. She had this silly little girly voice, all high-pitched and tinny.

Zoë couldn’t really sing, either, but she was one of those people, when she was on stage you found yourself having to look at her even if you didn’t specially want to. I certainly didn’t want to! Not after the way she’d been so horrid when I’d accidentally bumped into her. She’d gone on being horrid, for days afterwards. She kept saying things like, “Ever had a ten-ton trailer crash into you?” and “Keep away from me, Elephant!” So you can see that I had absolutely
no
reason to watch her, yet in spite of that I couldn’t seem to help it. Which meant, I suppose, that she had got “what it takes”.

But so had Mark and Gareth, and they didn’t push and shove! Gareth was quite up-front, but he never
bulldozed.
And Mark was cool as could be! He had this very quiet sort of confidence, which I really envied. I thought that I would try to have a quiet confidence, too. I thought it might be easier than pushing and shoving. So when we all lined up that evening for our workout, I very firmly – but
quietly
– positioned myself at the front and waited to see what would happen.

Like normally, not being a show-offy kind of person, as I think I have said before, I would hide away at the back along with Saffy and Ben and a tall gangly girl called Portia, who was really sweet and tried
so
hard but just could never get anything right. Zoë always referred to her as Stilts, because of her legs being so long. I was Elephant, Portia was Stilts, and Saffy was Beetroot Bonce (on account of her red hair). Me and Saffy had racked our brains trying to think of a rude nickname for Zoë but hadn’t yet come up with anything.

So, anyway, there I was, minding my own business, quietly doing stretchy exercises while waiting for class to begin, and guess what happens? Zoë comes waltzing up and rudely plants herself
directly in front of me.
Next thing I know, Little Miss Twinkle has joined her. And before I can say anything, such as “Excuse
me!”
or “Do you mind?” the door has opened and the boys have come in and Gareth and a couple of others have tacked themselves next to Zoë and Twinkle, so that now
they’re
the front row and I’m pushed into the background. I mean, it wasn’t Gareth’s fault. He didn’t know that Zoë had deliberately usurped me. When Mrs Ambrose arrived she told everyone to “Move back! You’re too far out!” Zoë immediately sprang backwards, managing to tread on my toe as she did so. She said, “Oops! Sorry, Elephant, didn’t know you were there.”
That girl!
Is it any wonder she got on our nerves?

Saffy, of course, had seen what was happening. Saffy is very sharp. She doesn’t miss much! She rang me later, when Mum had come to collect me and I was back home.

“You see what I mean?” she said. “You see what I mean about pushing and shoving? You gotta get your act together, babe!”

I said that I would try, but that it was very difficult when we were, like, the new girls on the block and Zoë and Twinkle had been there practically for ever.

“You think that would stop
them?”
said Saffy.

I had to admit that it probably wouldn’t, and I humbly promised Saffy that in future I would stand up for myself. I knew she only had my best interests at heart. All the same, she is the most terrible bully!

O
NE
F
RIDAY
. M
RS
Ambrose told us that an old pupil of the school, Deirdre Dobson, was going to come in the next day and talk to us about acting and maybe even watch a class. I was so excited! A lot of people hadn’t heard of Deirdre Dobson, but I had because I had
met
her. It was a long time ago, when I was quite young, but I could still remember this lovely lady with the jet black hair and silver rings. She came into my mum’s office when for some reason I was there, and she actually talked to Mum about this house she was thinking of buying. Mum told me afterwards, “That was Deirdre Dobson!” Then when she got home she told Dad about it.

“Guess who came into the office today? Deirdre Dobson!”

Then she rang up both my grans and one of my aunties and told them about it, too, so I knew that Deirdre Dobson had to be somebody famous. Mum was always talking about “the time I sold a house to Deirdre Dobson”, though it was a year or two before I realised that this famous person was an actress on television. She was in a soap called
Screamers,
which I was too young ever to have watched. It had finished about four years ago, which was why most of the kids had never heard of her. They were well impressed when I said that I had actually met her! Zoë immediately said that
she
had met Tom Cruise, but we had all heard about Zoë meeting Tom Cruise about a million times, and anyway she hadn’t met him, she’d merely seen him at a distance.

“What’s she like?” said Twinkle.

I said that I remembered her as being very slim and beautiful with dark black hair. Zoë sniffed and said, “She’s probably an old bag by now.
I’ve
never heard of her.”

“Just shows the depths of
your
ignorance,” said Saffy; not that Saffy had ever heard of her, either.

I told Mum about it when she came to pick me up after class. Mum said, “Oh! Tell her that your mum once sold her a house. Ask her if she’s still living there… Clonmore Gardens. Mind, it was a few years ago. She probably won’t remember.”