family to La-La Land for the holidays. INTHE KNOW can confirm he was really splashing the cash on Ruby and her mom on Christmas Eve to the tune of $10,000.
It just goes to show that the British are the most eccentric race in the world. Only an Englishman would swap leggy lovely Carenza for a middle-aged fashion-disaster nobody. Perhaps next time you get out your credit card, Jeremy, you should treat Mrs Parker to a little nip and tuck for New Year?
Then again, perhaps other old Brit, William Shakespeare, summed it up best when he said, “Love is blind!”
Chapter Two
The first week in Hollywood passed in a flash. Before I knew it, it was nearly New Year’s Eve.
Until then Christmas had been nice. Or perhaps I should say wonderful because of all the effort that Jeremy and Augusto and Marie put in. But the best I can say is nice, because it was so different from the kind of Christmas I was used to and it would have taken a lot longer than one day to get used to it.
It wasn’t at all like being at home with Mum and Dad and Everest. Mum always used to insist that we all opened only one present before breakfast and then saved the rest till after lunch. But not in Jeremy’s house. We opened all the presents at once, first thing in the morning, creating a whirlwind of shiny paper and ribbon and lots of glittery sparkles that drove David mad.
The Chihuahua even had several gifts of his own, most of which were food-based. One was a sort of royal-blue satin throne bed with a little gold-painted wooden staircase leading up to the mattress. But David was moreinterested in ripping up the paper than lounging on the bed, which made him seem a bit more dog-like and a lot less evil nemesis.
As I opened my gifts I found the things I had picked out on Rodeo Drive and a whole lot more besides that somehow Mum and Jeremy had chosen without me knowing. Clothes, shoes – some even with a low heel and a bit of a pointy toe – and best of all a make-up set. I stared open-mouthed at my mum who never, ever let me wear make-up except for work or the occasional event.
“That’s from me,” she said with a smile. “I thought it was about time you had something to practise with. But not to be worn outside the house unless I say so, OK?”
“OK, Mum,” I said and immediately put on some green sparkly eyeshadow. I didn’t look exactly how Anne-Marie did when she wore it, but I was happy anyway.
And then Mum handed me something she had brought from home. I could tell because it was wrapped in normal penguin-in-a-bobble-hat Christmas paper, not covered in tons of ribbons and bows.
“From your dad,” she said. I took a breath and opened it.
It was a blue top from Miss Selfridge that I had shown Dad the last time we went out for lunch. I looked at it andsuddenly I realised how much I missed him. My dad who went into a girls’ shop to buy a top he especially knew I wanted all on his own with no one to help him. The top probably cost a fraction of any of the other gifts that I had, but along with my make-up set it was the best one there.
I wanted to ring Dad and thank him. I looked at my watch and then at my mum. It was Just after ten in the morning here so it would be about teatime at home.
“Go on,” she said with a smile. “Call him and say Happy Christmas from me too.”
But when I dialled Dad’s number the phone just rang and rang, and I imagined his horrible, cold, empty grey flat all those thousands of miles away echoing with the sound. I tried his mobile next, but that went to voicemail. I supposed he couldn’t hear it at Granny’s. I didn’t leave a message because I thought that after the last time we spoke a message wasn’t right, so I padded back downstairs.
After presents came Christmas lunch. It was a bit like I imagine having Christmas at Buckingham Palace would be and was about as different from lunch at home as it could be. Jeremy’s dining room, with its mile-long shiny wooden table that could seat about
It just goes to show that the British are the most eccentric race in the world. Only an Englishman would swap leggy lovely Carenza for a middle-aged fashion-disaster nobody. Perhaps next time you get out your credit card, Jeremy, you should treat Mrs Parker to a little nip and tuck for New Year?
Then again, perhaps other old Brit, William Shakespeare, summed it up best when he said, “Love is blind!”
Chapter Two
The first week in Hollywood passed in a flash. Before I knew it, it was nearly New Year’s Eve.
Until then Christmas had been nice. Or perhaps I should say wonderful because of all the effort that Jeremy and Augusto and Marie put in. But the best I can say is nice, because it was so different from the kind of Christmas I was used to and it would have taken a lot longer than one day to get used to it.
It wasn’t at all like being at home with Mum and Dad and Everest. Mum always used to insist that we all opened only one present before breakfast and then saved the rest till after lunch. But not in Jeremy’s house. We opened all the presents at once, first thing in the morning, creating a whirlwind of shiny paper and ribbon and lots of glittery sparkles that drove David mad.
The Chihuahua even had several gifts of his own, most of which were food-based. One was a sort of royal-blue satin throne bed with a little gold-painted wooden staircase leading up to the mattress. But David was moreinterested in ripping up the paper than lounging on the bed, which made him seem a bit more dog-like and a lot less evil nemesis.
As I opened my gifts I found the things I had picked out on Rodeo Drive and a whole lot more besides that somehow Mum and Jeremy had chosen without me knowing. Clothes, shoes – some even with a low heel and a bit of a pointy toe – and best of all a make-up set. I stared open-mouthed at my mum who never, ever let me wear make-up except for work or the occasional event.
“That’s from me,” she said with a smile. “I thought it was about time you had something to practise with. But not to be worn outside the house unless I say so, OK?”
“OK, Mum,” I said and immediately put on some green sparkly eyeshadow. I didn’t look exactly how Anne-Marie did when she wore it, but I was happy anyway.
And then Mum handed me something she had brought from home. I could tell because it was wrapped in normal penguin-in-a-bobble-hat Christmas paper, not covered in tons of ribbons and bows.
“From your dad,” she said. I took a breath and opened it.
It was a blue top from Miss Selfridge that I had shown Dad the last time we went out for lunch. I looked at it andsuddenly I realised how much I missed him. My dad who went into a girls’ shop to buy a top he especially knew I wanted all on his own with no one to help him. The top probably cost a fraction of any of the other gifts that I had, but along with my make-up set it was the best one there.
I wanted to ring Dad and thank him. I looked at my watch and then at my mum. It was Just after ten in the morning here so it would be about teatime at home.
“Go on,” she said with a smile. “Call him and say Happy Christmas from me too.”
But when I dialled Dad’s number the phone just rang and rang, and I imagined his horrible, cold, empty grey flat all those thousands of miles away echoing with the sound. I tried his mobile next, but that went to voicemail. I supposed he couldn’t hear it at Granny’s. I didn’t leave a message because I thought that after the last time we spoke a message wasn’t right, so I padded back downstairs.
After presents came Christmas lunch. It was a bit like I imagine having Christmas at Buckingham Palace would be and was about as different from lunch at home as it could be. Jeremy’s dining room, with its mile-long shiny wooden table that could seat about
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