The Real Rebecca (15 page)

‘I know, I know,’ I said. And of course I do know. But it’s nice to imagine that he actively wants to see us. Even if he probably doesn’t.

SATURDAY

No practice today, we’re having it tomorrow instead. So I just stayed at home. I didn’t even go into town or round to Cass’s house. It should have been boring but actually it is sometimes quite nice not having to do anything. I liked knowing that I could call over to Cass if I wanted to, so I didn’t feel like I was being forced to stay home on my own against my will. I just sort of pottered around the house reading and watching telly and thinking about Paperboy. Rachel was over at Tom’s and Mum and Dad were out
shopping at a garden centre (oh, what fascinating lives grown-ups lead. Seriously, if I ever have the urge to go to a garden centre, aka the most boring place on earth full of giant terracotta pots and metal benches, I hope someone shoots me), so I had the house to myself. I made a sort of nest for myself on the couch and settled in with Bumpers, a big mug of hot chocolate, a pile of books and magazines, some DVD box sets and the TV remote. It was like going to a fancy spa, only less healthy. By the time Mum and Dad came back with a spade or a big bag of compost or something else equally ridiculous, I was feeling very relaxed and grown-up.

‘Welcome home, Mother and Father,’ I said politely. ‘Did you have a nice afternoon? Would you like a cup of tea?’

Mum and Dad looked at me suspiciously.

‘What have you done?’ said Dad. ‘Did you break something?’

Honestly! There’s no point in acting like an adult around here, they insist on treating me like a five-year-old.

SUNDAY

Band practice! All my drumming at home is paying off. I am no longer the weakest link, at least as far as my actual playing is concerned. In fact, we’re all playing quite well at the moment. Which is good as we now have less than two weeks to the competition. But there is still a problem.

‘We really need to, I dunno, show off more on stage,’ said Cass.

This was so unlike the way she usually talks about the band I put my hand on her forehead.

‘Cass, are you feverish?’ I said. ‘You’re sounding like your old self, not the person who practically starts crying every time you plug your keyboard in.’

Cass shrugged. ‘We have to work on our showmanship,’ she said.

‘Our what?’ I said. ‘Cass, we’re not doing some huge arena spectacular. There won’t be time for any costume changes.’

‘I know,’ said Cass. ‘But we can’t just get up on stage
and just stand there like … like lemons. We’ve got to do something.’

‘We’re not doing any dancing,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m not doing anything that might look like Ruthie O’Reilly and Wildfire.’

‘I didn’t mean dancing,’ said Cass. ‘I mean, when would we dance? You’re sitting down and Alice is weighed down by her guitar. And I’m not dancing on my own.’

‘You’re certainly not,’ said Alice. ‘You’d look mad.’

‘But we need to do something,’ said Cass. ‘We need to, I dunno, play with a bit of pizzazz.’

‘Pizz-what?’ said Alice.

‘We do play with pizzazz!’ I said. ‘We’re very enthusiastic.’

‘But we spend most our time looking down at our instruments,’ said Cass.

‘That’s just because we’re concentrating,’ said Alice. ‘Which we seriously need to do, as you well know.’

‘But it looks boring!’ cried Cass. ‘We have to do something! We have to look at the audience at least.’

‘All right,’ I said. ‘Let’s try playing and not looking at our instruments. Will that please you, Lady Gaga?’

‘Huh,’ said Cass, but we gave it a try. We played without looking at our instruments once. It turned out to be very difficult. Cass and Alice weren’t too awful, actually, but I kept making mistakes. In fact, to be honest, there was more mistake than actual song. I kept missing the cymbals.

‘Well, I suppose we’ve both been playing our instruments for much longer than you,’ said Alice kindly. ‘You can sort of do it instinctively after a while.’

‘Maybe you could concentrate on your drums and just look up at the audience every so often,’ said Cass.

And that will have to do. There’s no way I’m going to become an amazing sightless drummer in less than two weeks.

I’m not bad when I’m actually hitting them, though. Which is something.

MONDAY

Oh my God. I have discovered why Vanessa Finn has been so weirdly nice to me. You know the way she’s been going on about her insane birthday party all the time? Well, it
turns out that she’s applied to be on that telly programme ‘My Big Birthday Bash’, the one about horrible spoiled brats and their ridiculously fancy birthday parties. And she thinks that because I have recently been (against my will, of course) in the public eye, being friends with me will impress the judges. I can’t believe it! She was just using me! Imagine if I’d actually liked talking about tanks and pink ponies and I thought we were becoming best mates. I’d be really hurt now. Instead I am just annoyed.

The whole thing came out at lunchtime today. Cass and Alice and I were sitting under the coats in the cloakroom talking about what we’d wear on stage during the competition – and how great our song is going to be by then. I think we should dress up in really amazing outfits, but Alice says we should just go for laid-back cool.

‘What exactly does that mean?’ I said.

‘Jeans and t-shirts or cool but, like, not too dressy tops,’ said Alice.

‘But that’s what we always wear!’ said Cass. ‘We can’t go on stage looking like we’ve just gone into town on a Saturday afternoon!’

‘Well, we’ll be wearing make-up and stuff,’ said Alice.
‘And we’ll do our hair really nicely.’

‘Huh,’ said Cass. ‘Easy for you. You’ve got proper hair. Look at me and Bex, we’ve basically got wavy mops on our heads.’

‘Oh, thanks,’ I said. ‘Speak for yourself, mop-head.’

It was then we heard voices coming from the other side of the coats. It was Vanessa and her minion, Caroline.

‘So when are they coming to interview you?’ said Caroline.

‘In a week or two,’ said Vanessa. ‘But I have to have loads of the arrangements for the party sorted out by then, so they know exactly what to expect.’

We looked at each other and raised our eyebrows. Who could possibly want to interview Vanessa? Maybe she was auditioning to be a southsider and they were trying to see if they’d let her move across the Liffey.

‘There’s no way they’ll turn you down, Nessa,’ said Caroline. ‘You’ve got such amazing ideas. And everything’s nearly sorted now.’

‘Well, I have worked very hard,’ said Vanessa. ‘I just need my USP.’

‘What’s a USP?’ said Caroline.

‘A Unique Selling Point,’ said Vanessa. ‘Something no one else will have. That’s why I want Rebecca to come.’

We all stared at each other in amazement on the other side of the coats.

‘I’m still not exactly sure …’ Caroline began.

‘She’s basically a celebrity,’ said Vanessa. ‘I mean, she’s been in loads of newspapers. Did you know her mother is some famous writer? Like, properly famous? She’s been interviewed on the ‘Late Late Show’ and even British telly and everything. I had absolutely no idea.’

‘Well, she never talks about it,’ said Caroline.

‘Yah, I know,’ said Vanessa. ‘It’s amazing. Anyway, I’m going to tell the ‘My Big Birthday Bash’ researchers about her. Once they find out one of my friends is famous, they won’t be able to resist. Reality TV producers love people with celebrity parents. They’ll go wild.’

‘They’ll go wild anyway,’ said Caroline loyally. ‘But … um, will Rebecca go along with it?’

‘Oh, she totally will,’ said Vanessa. ‘I’ve been telling her all about my plans and she was really interested. And I’ve been complimenting her all the time. She and her friends aren’t used to being praised by someone like me. It’ll have
gone straight to her head.’

That was it. I couldn’t take any more. I jumped up and shoved my head through the coats. Vanessa and Caroline both shrieked.

‘I can’t believe you!’ I roared. ‘First of all, I’m not a celebrity, you lunatic, and second of all, there’s no way on earth I’m going to help you get on that ridiculous programme!’

‘It’s not ridiculous!’ said Vanessa, who seemed to have quickly got over the shock of my head popping out at them from between the coats. Caroline, on the other hand, looked like she was going to faint or have a heart attack.

‘It so is,’ I said. ‘And there is absolutely no way I will have anything to do with it. Is this why you’ve been so nice to me recently?’

‘No,’ said Vanessa. ‘I’m just a naturally giving person.’

‘Oh my God,’ I said. ‘Listen, Vanessa. Even if you paid me, even if you … if you HYPNOTISED me, I would never go on that programme. And I’m not going to your mental birthday party.’

‘It’s not mental, as you put it,’ said Vanessa. ‘It’s going to be amazing. I got that tank from my dad’s friend, by the
way. AND the pink pony.’

‘A pink pony?’ said Cass from behind the coats. ‘Are you a wizard?’

‘It’s going to be dyed, obviously,’ said Vanessa as if she were talking to an idiot. ‘And it’s going to parade in front of me as the pink tank goes along. And I’m going to be waving from the tank. Everyone’s going to be talking about it.’

‘They’ll be talking about it all right,’ said Cass.

‘Look, Rebecca,’ said Vanessa, in a sensible two-
adults-having
-a-heart-to-heart way. ‘You don’t have to make your mind up now. The researcher’s going to be visiting me in a couple of weeks. So just think about it, yeah? Come on, Caroline.’ And off they went, to the sound of mysterious snorting, wheezing sounds from behind me.

I looked around at Cass and Alice. They were laughing so much I thought Cass was going to have some sort of fit. She was lying on the ground, gasping.

‘Oh yes, it’s all very funny,’ I said. ‘Me being used by a lunatic.’

‘It is funny!’ said Alice. ‘Oh, come on, Bex. You know it is really.’

‘It would be funny,’ I said, ‘if it were happening to someone else.’

‘Oh my God,’ wheezed Cass. ‘I hope you’re going to be in front of the tank … riding the pony.’ And she and Alice collapsed in hysterics again.

‘Maybe she’ll let us parade behind the tank like a marching band,’ said Alice.

‘Oooh yes,’ said Cass. ‘Please, Bex! Please let us march behind you and your new best friend!’ And they both gazed at me with their hands clasped as if they were praying.

Oh, okay, it was a bit funny.

The maddest thing of all is that Vanessa really doesn’t seem to believe that I’m not interested. We had a few classes together in the afternoon, and she kept smiling at me and giving me little waves. When I got home I told Mum all about it. At this stage I’m so used to telling her about the latest awful thing that has happened to me because of her stupid book that I don’t even get angry about it. Well, only a little bit angry. When I’d stopped ranting and raving she said that Vanessa has a strong sense of self worth.

‘A lot of teenage girls really hate themselves,’ she said. ‘But Vanessa seems to be very, um, confident. And confidence is healthy.’

‘It’s not that healthy,’ I said. ‘She’s deluded.’

‘Well, yes,’ said Mum. ‘She doesn’t seem to be able to take no for an answer, anyway.’ She paused. ‘You know, I’ve said this before, but I really am sorry about all the fuss at school about Ruthie. I genuinely didn’t think anything like this would happen.’