The Celeb Next Door Read Online Free PDF Page B

now,’ she says.
    ‘Already? You were ages,’ I say. ‘What were you doing?’
    ‘Talking to Isabella.’
    ‘Oh.’ I’m surprised. ‘What about?’
    ‘She’s from the Czech Republic. Remember, I went there on holiday, last year? We were talking about what a beautiful city Prague is, and she was telling me all these places to go, the ones that tourists don’t know about.’
    ‘Oh, right.’
    ‘And she was telling me about her work. It was interesting.’
    ‘Is she a model? I guess she must be.’
    ‘No, she hates that – everyone always assumes she is. She’s training to be a teacher. She came over here to learn English and got a job as an au pair for someoneRufus knows. That’s how she met him.’
    ‘I didn’t realise.’
    Vix shrugs.‘She’s really nice, actually. You should talk to her.’
    ‘Sure,’ I tell her. But I’d much rather talk to Rufus. If I get the chance.

Chapter 6
    An Exciting Proposition
    O ver the next two weeks, I spend at least an hour at Rufus’s house every afternoon, and sometimes a couple of hours at the weekend too. Each day, before my eyes, the house is transforming into a pad fit for a rock star, with shiny cream paintwork (some of it, mine), polished floorboards and plush carpets.
    I’m surprised at how well Dad and Rufus get on. Surprised and, if I’m honest, a bit jealous. Rufus is always popping in to chat – he doesn’t seem to do much when he’s at home – but instead of talking to me, he talks to Dad. They share so many interests: art and old cars and music. Rufus likes bands from the Seventies, from waybefore he was born, the bands that Dad’s always trying to get me to listen to. Maybe I should look past the flares and the silly hairstyles and give them a chance.
    It’s quite difficult to talk to Rufus. We don’t have much in common, apart from the fact we both like talking about Rufus Justice. I’m beginning to think he doesn’t find me very interesting. He treats me like his kid sister, teasing me and even calling me ‘Butterbean’ (cringe) or worse,‘Kiddo’, which is not how I want to be thought of at all. Not by anyone, but especially not by him. Of course, I don’t tell anybody else this. At school, everyone thinks that Rufus and I are practically best mates. I’ve got a long list of people who want his autograph, which is kind of embarrassing, and even the girls who barely spoke to me before suddenly want to be my friend. People keep asking me for juicy gossip about him too. I always tell them it wouldn’t be fair to reveal his secrets but the truth is, I don’t know any! Not unless you count the fact he wears Uggs around the house, and that he loves watching stupid quiz programmes on TV. Yes, the biggest surprise about Rufus is that he’s turned out to be quite the nerd.
    By the end of term, the work is almost finished. There’s very little for me to do now, except watch paint dry. Literally. Still, I keep coming round. I can’t keep away because I like being part of Rufus’s world, even if I’m not really his friend, and I still haven’t met the other bandmembers. Plus, I’m angling for tickets to some of the summer festivals. Fieldstar is playing them all this year. Maybe, if I’m really, really good, Mum and Dad will let me go to one of them.
    On the very last Saturday of the job, Sky comes with me to see how great the house is looking now. Every room, including the hall, has been plastered, papered and painted and Dad is just applying the finishing touches, adding a fresh coat of paint here, or a brushstroke there. Soon it will be time to hang up the pictures and the mirrors and to put the furniture back. Then Rufus will be able to bring his Wii downstairs again and perch on his favourite sofa, and I won’t have any more reasons to come around. Not unless I’m invited, that is.
    ‘Wow, it looks great,’ says Sky.‘You wouldn’t recognise the place from when you started.’
    ‘I know,’ I agree. ‘If the Robsons came