Chapter 1

“Mum,” I shouted through my bedroom door, “I can’t fasten this stupid tie.”

It wasn’t Mum who answered me, it was Dad by walking into my room, removing the bow tie from my fingers, wrapping it round his own neck and tying it, loosening it, slipping it over his head and then doing the same in reverse until it was around the collar of my shirt.

“Thanks Dad,” I told him, “just like my school tie when I first started.”

“Well let’s hope you don’t take as long to learn this time,” he answered, “you could have got a ready-tied one, you know.”

“But that wouldn’t have been as stylish,” I retorted, “how are the girls doing?”

“Don’t worry, they’ll all be ready when the car arrives,” he assured me, “now get your shoes and jacket on, brush your hair, and let’s we men go down to the bar and have a drink while we wait.”

I did as he asked, checked that I had my wallet and a couple of Sharpie pens in my pocket before we left the suite, and travelled down to the fourth floor, where the main hotel bar was.

Once we reached the opulent, oak panelled residents bar, Dad ordered himself a whisky and soda, and me a fresh orange juice, and we sat down to wait for our ladies.

“So, what’s going to happen with you and Charlie, now she’s going out to Dubai?” Dad asked.

“She’s not emigrating Dad,” I replied, “she’s just going to go for Christmas, to get re-acquainted with him, and get acquainted with her step-mum and her two sisters.”

“And then?”

“She’ll come back, and we’ll get on with life. I’ll go back to school, she’ll go on to the next job and we’ll see each other whenever we can. I don’t think we’re ready to book the honeymoon yet, Dad.”

“I wasn’t suggesting you were, son, just wondering where you were at. And what about Kathy?”

“I think that’s about run its course now Dad, remember she suggested we should be free to see other people, and the last couple of times I was home, she couldn’t go out because she had a date with Dave Dickinson.”

“So, you’re between girlfriends again?” he asked.

“Dad, I’ve been between girlfriends since I got back from LA,” I answered, my voice flat.

“Which brings us to the elephant in the room,” Dad said, “Cal.”

“Nothing to discuss, Dad,” I said, “she accused me of cheating, after Munich. At least I had evidence of what she’d done.”

“Actually, there is something,” he said, “David, they’re letting her come home from the hospital for Christmas.”

“They’re what?” I asked incredulously.

“Just for the day,” he said.

“And I suppose Mum wants them to come to us for Christmas dinner?” I asked.

“It is our turn son,” he replied.

“All right,” I said.

“Is that all right?” Dad asked, his shoulders slumping in imitation of a teenager, I wondered where he got that, “or all right as in yes, great, super, I’m looking forward to it?”

“Dad,” I complained, drawing the word out until it was almost a whine.

“So, which is it?” he asked quietly.

“It’s all right Dad,” I began, “As in, I’ll be the good and faithful son and welcome you and Mum’s guests to the house, and even be nice to them.”

“Not the answer we wanted to hear,” he replied, “but I suppose it will have to do.”

He picked up his drink and finished it, just as the girls arrived.

“The car’s outside,” Mum said as we joined them.

I looked at my two dates, both of whom looked absolutely stunning. Charlie was in a dark green Vivienne Westwood gown that we’d borrowed for the evening, and my other date was in lemon yellow.

“Pip, you look gorgeous,” I said to my sister.

“Thank you,” she said, unusually shyly for her, “are you sure you want me with you tonight?”

“I wouldn’t have come if you weren’t,” I replied, “and you, Charlie, are just stunning.”

They both kissed me on opposite cheeks, which caused Mum to get out her handkerchief, lick it and wipe the lipstick off.

“All right Mr. big film star,” Mum said, “let’s go see your adoring public.”

There are, give or take a few, two thousand seats in the Odeon Leicester Square, Britain’s largest single screen cinema, and because of the street layout in the square, we had to get out of the car at the Empire, and walk down the red carpet, the fifty yards or so to the cinema. Outside the doors there were TV cameras and reporters, but between the Empire and the Odeon there were fans, hundreds of them. Charlie and I stopped and had photographs taken with some of them, and signed autographs. Even my sister was asked for hers. She protested that she was just my sister, but that didn’t seem to matter. Mum and Dad had already been escorted into the Odeon, but the three of us were stopped by a reporter from E! just outside the door.

“Right now, I’m talking to David J Barker, who plays Greg Paradise, and his two, yes, that’s right, two stunningly beautiful dates,” she began, “really David? Two dates. Isn’t that a little greedy?”

I was surprised when Alison spoke up.

“We just felt there was safety in numbers,” she said.

“Well, I’m sure we all recognise TV star Charlie Hudson,” the reporter went on, “I didn’t know you two knew each other.”

“We’ve just finished filming a TV drama together, which will be out on ITV next summer,” Charlie replied, “and the stunningly beautiful young lady on David’s left arm is his sister Alison.”

“And you, Alison, are you in films as well, or are you a model?” was the next question.

“Neither,” Alison replied, “I’m still at school and I want to be a doctor.”

With that she let us go, since the next actor was coming down the carpet. We waved at the rest of the fans and entered the cinema, where we were ushered to our seats in the stalls. After Max made a speech and had all the cast and crew members stand up to take a round of applause the film started. Fifteen minutes later I discovered something about myself, I couldn’t stand watching myself up on the big screen either. Fortunately I was seated on the end of a row so I just quietly stood up and walked out of the cinema, back into the foyer.

There was still a group of fans outside the doors, waiting or all the famous people to come out so that they could get autographs. Most of them looked to be about my age, so I opened one of the doors and stepped outside.

“Hi,” I greeted them.

“Hi,” one of them replied, a young girl of about fourteen, “are you famous?”

“No, I’m not famous,” I answered, “I’m just a young teenage schoolkid like all of you are.”

“Then why are you in there?” she asked.

“I’ll let you into a secret,” I said, “I came out here because I was embarrassed in there.”

“But why were you embarrassed?” she asked.

“Because I didn’t like seeing myself on the screen,” I told her, “I’m five foot six, and the guy up on the screen was like fifteen feet high.”

“So, you are famous then,” she insisted, reaching for her autograph book.

“No,” I said, “I just made a film that’s all.”

“Wow, that’s cool,” she said, “I wish I could make a film.”

“Well who knows, maybe you will one day,” I said, “or maybe you’ll be something useful instead. Perhaps you’ll be a doctor, or a research scientist, and invent a cure for cancer. I think I’d rather do that than make films.”

“But being a film star is so cool,” she said.

“Can you keep a secret?” I asked.

She nodded her agreement.

“Yes,” she answered.

“Being a film star is boring, I’ll tell you what, come with me.”

I held my hand out to her, she took it and I led her inside the cinema.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To see a film,” I said, and took her through the doors into the auditorium. Once we were there, I put her in my seat, and, as Charlie looked round I held a finger to my lips to get her to be quiet. Then I left again.

Two hours later I was standing in the foyer when the audience started to leave. The family and Charlie were the first out, with my new friend amongst them.

As they walked out Charlie was deep in animated conversation with her.

“David,” she said as they approached, “did you know it was Cindy’s birthday tomorrow?”

Her birthday? I didn’t even know her name.

“No, I didn’t,” I replied, “I didn’t even know her name. I just brought her in because she looked cold.”

“Well, she’s having a party tomorrow, and you’ve given her a problem.”

“How could I have given her a problem?” I asked

“Well, when she’s with all her friends tomorrow, she’d going to want to tell them about tonight.”

“I can see that, but why is it a problem.”

“Think David. On your fourteenth birthday, would your friends have believed you if you told them that the night before, you’d met a film star, and gone to the world premiere of his new film?”

“Charlie, I’m not a film star, I just made a film,” I objected.

“I’ve just seen it,” Charlie replied, “you’re a film star. But back to Cindy’s problem.”

“Ah, I didn’t think of that,” I said, “I’m sorry Cindy. What can I do to make them believe you?”

She looked at me shyly, her eyes looking at the toes of her shoes.

“Would you come to my party?” she asked, “and you too, Charlie and Alison.”

I looked at my sister and girlfriend. They responded with small nods of the head.

“We’d love to,” I said.

“Oh, thank you,” she squealed as she leapt up, flung her arms round my neck and kissed me firmly on the lips.

“Oops, sorry,” she said as I put her down on the floor.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, looking at my watch, “damn, it’s after eleven, we’d better get back.”

“What?” cried Cindy, horrified, “my curfew is ten thirty.”

“You’d better ring your parents,” Alison said.

“I can’t, I don’t have a mobile,” she answered.

I handed her mine, “here you go.”

She dialled the number.

“Hi Daddy,” she said when the call was answered, “I’m sorry, I’m late, but I’m safe.”

She then proceeded to describe her evening to her father.

“Yes, we’re here with his parents, sister and girlfriend,” she said when she’d finished.

Then she held the phone out to my Dad.

“My Daddy would like to speak to you please,” she said.

My Dad greeted Cindy’s, then listened.

“Don’t worry about it, we have a car, we’ll bring her home.”

He listened again.

“OK then, we’ll see you shortly.”

He finished the call and handed me my phone back.

“So, what’s the verdict Dad?” I asked.

“We walk to the end of the road, get in the car and first we take this young lady home, and then back to the hotel. I need a drink.”

“Actually Dad, I meant about the film.”

“Oh, that was brilliant,” Cindy said, “especially the boy playing Greg Paradise.”

I just looked at her as the rest of them started laughing.

We got Cindy home, I offered to walk her to the door, but we (by we I mean the parents) decided it would be better if Charlie did it, then told the driver to take us back to the hotel.

We were spending the next day in London, then the following morning, we’d take Charlie to Heathrow to catch her plane to Dubai, and then drive our own car back up to home. As soon as my head hit the pillow my eyes closed and I slept the sleep of the just, the just plain knackered.

We all met up for breakfast in the hotel restaurant on the 22nd, and afterwards headed out to the British Museum.

I particularly liked the Elgin marbles, but wasn’t sure about the morality of them being kept, especially after Charlie told us the story of seeing them in the Acropolis museum in Athens, and how all the spaces for the ones in London had plaques in them explaining that those parts were ‘currently’ being displayed in the British Museum.

After we finished at the museum, which I found really interesting, we went to a little pub just outside the gates and had lunch, after which Mum and Dad headed off back to the hotel, while the rest of us went shopping on Tottenham Court Road for a small present for Cindy’s birthday, then caught the underground from there to Woodside Park, where it was just a short walk to her house on Holden Avenue.

We rang the doorbell and it was answered by a pleasant looking woman in her late thirties or maybe early forties.

“Hello, I’m David Barker, and this is my sister Alison, and my friend and colleague Charlie Hudson, we met Cindy last night at the Odeon in town and she invited us to drop in at her party.”

“Oh, yes, the people from the cinema,” she said, “please come in. I must admit, it’s a strange tale she tells, but how much of it is true and how much is her imagination, I don’t know. Come through, she’s just telling her friends now.”

She led us through into a spacious rear dining room, where twelve teenagers, mostly girls, were sat round a table eating sandwiches.

“I say it’s not true,” one slim blonde girl said, “film stars just do not come out of premieres and take girls off the street and give them a seat at the premiere.”