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rejection.
    â€œCome on,” she said. “We might as well go and get it over with.”
    Miss Greenstreet smiled at us as we headed for the door.
    â€œYou never know, girls, it might be good news,” she said. But neither one of us replied.
    â€œI really thought I was good,” Anne-Marie said as we trudged towards Ms Lighthouse’s office.
    â€œYou were good,” I said. “I was the terrible one.”
    â€œExactly,” Anne-Marie said.
    Ms Lighthouse’s office door was open and her assistant Mrs Moore nodded for us to go in. It was hard to tell what kind of news we were going to get from Mrs Moore’s expression, as never once had anyone ever seen her smile, frown or have any kind of expression at all. She was permanently in neutral, with a face like a mask that might hide thousands of raging thoughts and emotions.
    â€œSit,” Sylvia Lighthouse commanded us as we walked into her office, and we obeyed promptly. She leanedforward across her desk on her elbows and examined each one of us carefully before sitting back in her chair.
    â€œWell, well,” she said, more to herself than to us. “Cometh the hour, cometh the girls.”
    â€œHuh?” Anne-Marie and I said together.

Chapter four
    â€œBut—are you sure?” I said, quite unable to believe what Sylvia Lighthouse had just told Anne-Marie and me. “Because I was really terrible.”
    â€œI wasn’t,” Anne-Marie said. “I was great.”
    Sylvia read aloud again the fax she had in her hand.
    â€œâ€˜Dear Ms Lighthouse,’” she read, affecting a gruff New York accent. “‘Thank you for sending your young ladies to audition for the part of Polly Harris in The Lost Treasure of King Arthur. There are two that interested me and whom I’d like to see again this Friday: Ruby Parker and Anne-Marie Chance. Details to follow.’” Sylvia Lighthouse put the fax down on the table and looked at us.
    â€œHe wants to see you two again,” she said. “This time it will be a longer audition. You’ll read through a scene chosen by Mr Dubrovnik that you won’t get to rehearse before you arrive, and I know he sometimes likes to get actors doing improvisation work, to seewho has the right ‘chemistry’. You might have to do some of that.”
    Anne-Marie and I looked at each other.
    â€œUm…” I said, not quite able to believe what I was about to say, “Ms Lighthouse, I think he’s got me mixed up with someone else—Nydia maybe? Because I…threw up in my audition. In front of him.” Ms Lighthouse raised her eyebrows and wrinkled her long nose.
    â€œWell, Ruby, he doesn’t say he thought you were good. He says he thought you were interesting. He has not made a mistake. Mr Dubrovnik is not the sort of man to make mistakes.” She tapped her nails on the desk and looked at us. “Now, as I understand, there are three other girls from other ‘sources’ also going to this second call-back, so the chances of you progressing further are slim. Nevertheless, shooting is due to begin within the month, so we need to assume the impossible and talk practicalities with your parents.”
    â€œMine are in South Africa,” Anne-Marie said, and then, after a moment, “and Canada. Dad’s in Canada.”
    I glanced at Anne-Marie. Usually the fact that her movie-producer dad and fashionista mum were more often abroad on business than at home didn’t seem to bother her too much. But sometimes, like just at thatmoment, you could see her bravado drop a little, and you got a tiny glimpse of sadness. Most of the school thought she had the best time ever, living in her big posh house with only her older brother and their housekeeper Pilar to look after her. But I knew that sometimes, just sometimes, Anne-Marie would like nothing more than to be grounded by one or preferably both of her parents, just as long