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none of us would get the part so we could all go back to being normal again. It was only now that I knew I was getting called back that I truly wished Nydia was coming too.
    â€œLook, Ruby,” Anne-Marie whispered, “acting is one big competition. And somehow, by some amazing miracle, you—Ruby Parker—are one of the winners at the moment. And that’s all you’ve got to think about right now. I know that’s all I’m thinking about. And Nydia will be happy for us; like you said, she is a good friend.”
    I stared blankly at the pages of words in front of me without reading them.
    Somehow the impossible had happened. Somehow I had done something right, something that meant I wasgoing to get another chance to impress Mr Dubrovnik, to get the part of Polly Harris. I didn’t know what I had done or how I had done it, but I did know one thing: I was going to give the best performance of my life.
    This time, I was going to be brilliant.

Chapter five
    The Waldorf Hotel in London was the poshest place I had ever been to in my life. OK, I haven’t been to that many posh places unless you count award ceremonies, and they are usually held in a theatre or TV studio, which aren’t nearly as posh as they look on TV.
    â€œThis is the life, hey, Ruby?” Dad said, winking as we waited in the foyer for Mr Dubrovnik to call us up, with my mum, Anne-Marie and Sylvia Lighthouse herself, who had decided to replace Miss Greenstreet on this occasion as it was “a matter of academy honour”.
    â€œTotally,” I said, looking around me at the gold and the mirrors and the soft chair and posh orange ladies with big hair and big sunglasses and heavy-looking jewellery.
    â€œFrank!” My mum looked as nervous as I felt. “Try not to look like a tourist.”
    â€œIt’s a hotel,” Dad said, shrugging and grinning at me. “It’s built for tourists, hey, Rube?” I laughed becauseI knew he was trying to make me laugh, thinking it would take my mind off my nerves. And in a way it did, because the two of them being here together reassured me and made me feel safe again in a way that just one of them, try as they might, could not.
    It was great that Mum and Dad had decided that both of them were coming with me to this important audition. And I was glad that they’d had a long phone conversation about it, a conversation during which no one had raised their voice or slammed down the receiver (or in our case pressed the “End Call” button really firmly). And I was really glad when Mum had come into the living room where I had been earwigging and said, “I suppose you heard, Dad’s coming too on Friday. So that’ll be nice, won’t it?”
    That seemed to be like a big step to me, part of the general air of friendship that had gradually begun to build between them since that horrible night when Dad left us and it had seemed as if nothing would be right in our family again. OK, they were living apart and Dad had his so-called “girlfriend”. And yes, Mum had cut her hair and started wearing make-up to go to the supermarket. Not to mention arranging sleepovers for me so she could go to salsa classes with her friends, who as it turned out she had a lot more of than Irealised. But, I decided, as strange and as uncomfortable as some of that made me feel, it didn’t matter as long as they were talking to each other and not hating each other, and sometimes when it was really important I could have both of them together again looking after me. I couldn’t have them back together again but I knew this was the next best thing.
    Anne-Marie crossed the polished marble floor to my side and grinned at me.
    â€œWell,” she said, “how are you feeling?” I paused to listen for any early-warning gurgle from my tummy.
    â€œStrangely OK,” I said, sounding slightly surprised. “You?”
    â€œI’m OK,” she