Page 56 of Christmas at the Movies
‘I’ll go to London with you,’ suggested Dad. ‘As long as you apologise to your mother.’
Holly turned to her father, frowning. ‘But you hate shopping.’
‘I’ll do my own thing. You can go off to Topshop or wherever, and have tea with Pari.’
Holly rolled her eyes. ‘Topshop doesn’t exist any more, Dad. I want to go to Carnaby Street and Covent Garden.’
‘Well, we’re not going anywhere until you apologise,’ said Dad.
Holly turned to her mother and forced her facial features into an expression of contrition, her eyes filled with remorse.Oh, I’m good,thought Holly. No wonder her drama teacher had predicted that she’d get top marks in her GCSE.
‘Sorry, Mum,’ Holly cooed sweetly. ‘I’m really happy for you.’ She didn’t mean it. Not one little bit. But there was no way she was missing out on a trip to London.
‘Show me what you got,’ said Auntie Pari, pointing to the shopping bag by Holly’s feet. They were sitting on a squishy chintz sofa in the old-fashioned tea room of Brown’s Hotel in Mayfair, which had been decorated with decadent swags of pine and holly. There was a three-tiered silver cake stand on the table in front of them, laden with equally decadent finger sandwiches, scones and cakes. It was the fanciest place Holly had ever been – she’d felt like a movie star as the host showed them to their table.
Holly held up the minidress she’d bought. It had spaghetti straps, a corset-style bodice and an asymmetrical hem.
‘Ooh, very sexy,’ said Pari approvingly. She leant forward. ‘By the way,areyou having sex with anyone?’
‘No!’ said Holly, blushing with embarrassment. (That was another thing you could do legally when you were sixteen. Not that she wanted to discuss her non-existent sex life with her godmother.)
‘But there’s someone you like?’
‘Maybe …’ replied Holly.
‘Well, he … or she … isn’t going to be able to resist you in that.’
‘He,’ said Holly shyly.
‘Well, just remember,’ said Pari, adding a drop of milk to her cup of tea, ‘if youaregoing to have sex, be sure to use protection. And never let anyone pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to do.’
Holly’s cheeks burnt brighter than the strawberry jam on the table. Maybe it was a good idea her mum hadn’tcome along. And as for Dad, he’d probably spontaneously combust at the thought of her even kissing a boy.
‘More cake?’ asked a tuxedoed waiter holding a silver tray. There were slices of chocolate Yule log, little gingerbread men and mini mince pies, in a nod to the festive season.
Holly pointed to the chocolate log, while Auntie Pari shook her head.
Using silver tongs, the waiter placed the cake on Holly’s plate. She took a bite, the sweet cream inside oozing out.
‘Oh, to have the metabolism of a sixteen-year-old again.’ Auntie Pari sighed wistfully.
‘Being sixteen sucks,’ said Holly. ‘My parents still treat me like a child.’
‘Well, I hate to point out the obvious, but youarestill a child,’ said Pari, sipping her tea.
‘It’s so annoying – Mum decides she’s going to be a screenwriter again, just in time to ruin my life,’ moaned Holly, stabbing her cake in frustration. ‘This could have been my big break.’
‘She did the right thing,’ Pari said, to Holly’s disappointment. She’d been expecting Pari to be on her side. ‘You’re too young. Go to drama school, learn your craft andthenyou’ll be ready to work professionally.’
‘Natalie Portman was already a major film star when she was sixteen,’ Holly pointed out, adding a dollop of jam to her scone. ‘So was Saoirse Ronan. And Keira Knightley.’
‘They’re the lucky ones. The list of talented teenaged stars who burnt out is much, much longer, darling.’ Pari looked enviously at the scone Holly was eating and shrugged. ‘What the hell.’ She popped a pink macaron into her mouth. ‘YOLO – isn’t that what you kids say?’
‘Don’t you think I’m talented enough to make it?’ Her aunt had come to see her inHairsprayand said she had star quality.
‘You’re definitely talented enough,’ said Pari, brushing crumbs off her fingers. ‘But that’s no guarantee. The entertainment industry is brutal. So many incredibly talented people don’t succeed, and sometimes less talented ones do – just because they are in the right place at the right time. That’s why I never take on clients your age. You need to have the resilience to deal with constant rejection – and that only comes with maturity.’
Holly groaned. ‘Ugh, when did you get so boring, Auntie Pari? You sound just like Mum.’
