The Bed and Breakfast Star (17 page)

Then, as she stalked off, she said just one word. Well, she muttered it, but I heard. And Funny-Face did too. She said, ‘Typical.’ She meant we were typical bed-and-breakfast kids indulging in typical disruptive behaviour. And I suddenly felt sick, as if I needed my bed and might well throw up my breakfast.

Funny-Face didn’t look too clever either. He wiped the smear of blood from his nose and pulled a hideous face at Mrs Fisher’s back, crossing his eyes and waggling his tongue.

I giggled feebly.

‘Why did the teacher have crossed eyes, eh? Because she couldn’t control her pupils.’

It was one of my least funny jokes but Funny-Face guffawed politely.

‘Well, she’s not going to control us, is she, Elsa?’

‘You bet she’s not.’ His nose was still bleeding. I felt up my sleeve for a crumpled tissue. ‘Here,’ I said, dabbing at him.

‘Leave off! You’re acting like my mum,’ said Funny-Face.

‘Sorry I socked you one,’ I said.

‘Yeah, well, if that old trout hadn’t come along I’d have flattened you, see. Just as well for you. Though you can hit quite hard – for a girl.’

‘If you start that I’ll hit you even harder,’ I said, but I gave his nose another careful wipe. ‘We’re still mates, aren’t we?’

‘Course we are. Though why did you have to attack me like that, eh?’

‘Because of what you said about my mum and my sister.’

‘But you were the one telling porky-pies, not me! Why did you spin all those stupid stories about them? I mean, it’s daft. As if you lot could ever be in showbiz.’

‘We could, you know,’ I said fiercely. ‘Well, maybe not my mum. Or Pippa. But
I’m
going to be some day. I’ll be famous, just you wait and see. I’ll be a comedienne – that’s a lady who tells jokes – and I’ll have my own show and I’ll get to be on the telly, you’ll see, maybe sooner than you think.’

It was sooner than I thought, too. Because when Funny-Face and I went home from school that day there was a camera crew filming in the foyer of the Royal Hotel!

‘What on earth’s going on?’ said Funny-Face. ‘Hey, is this for telly? Are we going to be on the telly?’

He pulled a grotesque funny face for the camera, waving both his arms.

I sighed scornfully. I wasn’t going to behave like some idiotic amateur. I eyed up all the people and spotted the man in the tightest jeans and the leather jacket. That one just had to be the director. I walked right up to him, smiling.

‘Hello, I’m Elsa, I live here and I’m going to be a comedienne when I grow up. In fact, I’ve got my whole comedy act worked out right now. Would you like to listen?’

The director blinked rapidly behind his trendy glasses, but he seemed interested.

‘You live here, do you, Elsa? Great, well, we’re doing a programme called
Children in Crisis
, OK? Shall we do a little interview with you and your friend, eh? You can tell us all about how awful it is to have to stay in a bed-and-breakfast hotel, right?’

‘Wrong, wrong, wrong!’ said the bunny lady receptionist, rushing out from behind her desk. Even the telephonist lady had chucked her Jackie Collins and was peering out from behind her glass door, all agog.

‘Go and get the Manager, quick,’ the bunny lady commanded, shooing the telephonist lady up the corridor. ‘Now listen to me, you television people. You’re trespassing. Get out of this hotel right this minute or I’ll call the police and have you evicted.’

‘I can tell any joke you like. We’ll have a police joke, OK? What did the policeman say to the three-headed man? Hello hello hello. Where does the policeman live? Nine nine nine Let’s be Avenue. What’s the police dog’s telephone number? Canine canine canine.’

‘Very funny, dear,’ said the director, though he didn’t laugh. ‘Now, once we get the camera rolling I want you to say a bit about the crowded room you live in and how damp it is and maybe there are nasty bugs in the bath, yeah?’

‘How dare you! This is a scrupulously clean establishment, there are no bugs here, no infestations of any kind!’ the bunny lady screeched, so cross that the fluff on her jumper quivered.

‘Bugs, OK, I’ll tell you an insect joke, right? You’ve got this fly and this flea, yes, and when they fly past each other what time is it? Fly past flea.’ I laughed to show that this was the punchline.

‘Mmm, well. Simmer down now, sweetie, we want you looking really sad for the camera. And you, sonnie, do you think you could stop pulling those faces for five seconds?’

‘OK, I can look sad, it’s all part of a comedienne’s repertoire. Look, is this sad enough?’

‘Well, you needn’t go to extremes. Cheer up just a bit.’

‘Hey, I’ve thought of another insect joke. There were these two little flies running like mad over a cornflake packet – and do you know why? Because it said, “Tear along dotted line”.’

I laughed, but that made me cheer up a bit too much. And then the Manager came charging up and started shouting and swearing at the television people and they tried to film him and he put his hand over the camera and I started to get the feeling I might have lost my big chance to make it on to the television.

‘Phone the police this minute!’ the Manager commanded.

‘I know some more police jokes,’ I said, but no-one was listening.

‘Who put you up to this? Who invited you in, eh? Has one of the residents been complaining? Which one? You tell me. If they don’t like it here they can get out,’ the Manager shouted, making wild gestures. He nearly clipped me on the head and I ducked. ‘It was your mum and dad, wasn’t it, little girl!’

‘That man’s not my dad.’

‘The big Scottish bloke, he was throwing his weight around and moaning about his basin.’

‘What animal do you find in a toilet? A wash-hand bison,’ I said, but I seemed to have lost my audience.

The police arrived and there was a big argy-bargy which ended in the camera crew having to squeeze all their stuff back round the revolving door, while the Manager continued to rant and rave to me, saying it was all my family’s fault and we’d better start packing our bags right this minute.

I began to feel very much like a Child in Crisis. I whizzed out after the camera crew, desperate for one last chance to get on the telly.

‘Hey, don’t go, don’t pack up!’ I yelled, as I saw them heaving their gear into a van. ‘Look, couldn’t we do an interview in front of the hotel, eh? I’ll be ever so sad – I could even try to cry if you like. Look, I can make my face crumple up – or I tell you what, I’ll go and get my little sister and brother from our room, they’re great at crying—’

‘Sorry, sweetie, but I think this is a waste of time,’ said the director. ‘I don’t need this sort of hassle. And besides, you’re a great little sport but you’re not the sort of kid I’m looking for. I need someone . . .’ He waved his hand in the air, unable to express exactly what he wanted. Then he stopped and stood still.

‘Someone like that little kid there!’ he said, snapping his fingers.

I looked for this favoured little kid. And do you know who it was? Naomi, mooching along the road, trailing a brother in either hand, looking all fed up and forlorn because I’d rushed off with Funny-Face instead of waiting for her.

‘Hey, sweetie, over here!’ The director waved at her frantically. ‘Where did you spring from, hmm? You don’t live in the bed-and-breakfast hotel by any chance?’

Naomi nodded nervously, clutching her little brothers tight.

‘Great!’ He threw back his head and addressed the clouds. ‘A gift!’

‘We don’t want any gifts. We don’t take stuff from strangers,’ said Naomi, and she started trying to hustle her brothers away. She hustled a little too abruptly, and Neil tripped and started crying.

‘Hey, shut up, little squirt,’ said Funny-Face. ‘You’re going to be on the telly. Can I still be on it too, mister?’

‘And me?’ I said urgently.

‘Well, you can maybe sort of wander in the background,’ said the director. ‘But no clowning. No funny faces. And absolutely
no
jokes.’

I didn’t actually feel like cracking any jokes right that minute. Naomi was going to be the star of the show. Not me, even though I’d been perfecting my routine and practising on everyone all this time. Naomi, who couldn’t crack a joke to save her life, little meek and mousey Naomi!