Charlotte and the Starlet 2 (6 page)

'No preference. How about that one? It's close.'

Leila saw the fan pointing at her but she was too far
away to hear what was being said. He was probably
telling the accountant how much he'd enjoyed her
movies. Good. It was time that idiot realised what he
had right under his nose. Maybe he'd even feed her
something better than chaff? Leila watched the fan go
to his car and emerge with a lead rope. Then he began
counting moolah into Chadwick's greedy paw. Maybe
he was paying for a photo with Leila? When the fan
moved through the gate Leila assumed that must be
the case but she didn't like the way he was swinging
that lead rope.

What the ...?

Before she could react it was over her head and a bit
was in her mouth.

'Come on, Leila. You're going to make me a fortune.'

What? NOOOOOO. Leila would have screamed for
help but that would have made matters worse. She
tried to pull away but the man was strong. He began
dragging her towards the gate and his grotty vehicle.
Ugh. Leila had partied with heavy metal road crews
who took more pride in their trucks than fatso here.
She tried to hit the skids but the man jabbed her butt.

'You wanna play rough, Leila, I'll give you rough.'

The guy looked like he could deliver on the threat.
Leila glared at Chadwick but he was too busy
counting money. She was being pushed towards the
horse float when she heard the voice of Bevans.

'What's going on?'

Leila breathed a sigh of relief. Bevans wasn't exactly
a movie star in the looks department but today he was
her saviour and she'd gladly plant a big carrot-stained
kiss on his chops. Bevans interposed himself between
her and the float.

O'Regan sized up the intruder. The guy was maybe
fifty but wiry and tough. Best to act nice.

'Would you mind moving out of the way? I've just
bought this horse.'

'From who?'

O'Regan pointed at Chadwick who was hustling over.

'You can't sell Miss Strudworth's horses,' said Bevan
angrily.

'I'm in charge here, Bevans, not you.'

'The horses aren't yours to sell.'

'I'm running the business. Now step aside and let
the gentleman load his horse.'

Leila was impressed as Bevans stood firm, crossing
his arms.

'No.'

Chadwick smiled.

'Then you're fired. Pack your bags and go.'

Bevans looked confused.

'You can't fire me.'

'I just did. Now if you don't want me to call the
police and have you arrested, you had better step aside.'

Leila watched, terrified, as Bevans grudgingly
moved aside. The next thing she knew she was being
shunted up into a rusty old horse float. The gate
banged shut behind her.

What was this man going to do with her? Leila
panicked. She tried to bash the gate down behind her
but it wouldn't budge. She wanted to cry. This was
horrible. She was all alone with not even another
horse for company. And worst of all, she might never
see Charlie again.

On the whole, Charlotte would rather have been
tied over a fire-ants' nest and sprinkled in sugar.
This deportment business was excruciating. And
embarrassing. A copy of Lady Naomi Harker-Cowes'
The Importance of Deportment
perched precariously on
her head, her eyes fixed dead ahead, Charlotte
stepped forward gingerly over polished wooden
boards, her arms splayed like penguin wings, trying to
aid her balance.

'It's not a minefield, it's a carpet. Don't pick, girl!
Stride.'

The voice of Mrs Cooper, the deportment and
grooming advisor, boomed behind Charlotte's head.
This was the ninth time Charlotte had attempted to
cross the room.

Hannah, fists clenched by her side with the tension,
grimaced, sweating on every step, silently encouraging
Charlotte forward the way a rescuer might egg a fleeing
evacuee on to safety. The Evil Three were on the
periphery, also tense, hoping Charlotte would muck up
again. Just a few more steps, Charlotte told herself, just
two more and ... NO! She felt the book slip.

Thud.

The book hit the floor. The Evil Three smiled.
Hannah's face fell. Mrs Cooper let loose a long sigh.
Her head poked around in front of Charlotte. There
was something very odd about Mrs Cooper's face.
Thick, wavy blonde hair perched atop the thinnest
eyebrows Charlotte had ever seen. The eyebrows
danced whenever Mrs Cooper spoke but that was the
only part of her face that did. The rest of it was like
a sheet of stone.

'Young lady, we do not have all day.'

Mrs Cooper had that horribly snooty way of talking
that Charlotte had heard on occasion while manning
fundraising tables outside the Goondowi Country
Club.

'Perhaps you could nail the book to her head,'
offered Emma.

Charlotte swung around and glared at her.

Mrs Cooper seemed to consider the suggestion for
a moment but then the head shook and the eyebrows
rattled and rolled.

'No. You girls
must
learn to walk with poise. Now
let's try it again.'

It was the fourteenth attempt when Charlotte finally
made it across the studio, a large room sparsely
furnished and dominated by a chandelier. Her legs
wanted to collapse, her neck ached, she wanted to just
jump on Leila and ride into the sunset. Unfortunately,
Table Manners was no less intimidating. Charlotte
found herself staring down at her plate on which
resided some evil prehistoric creature that looked like
a massive cockroach. She had no idea what she was
supposed to do with the array of instruments placed
next to the plate. It reminded her of the dentist.

'People eat this?' she asked Hannah in disbelief.

'Not your sort of people,' chimed in Lucinda.

Hannah whispered behind her hand, 'It's lobster.'

Charlotte had often wondered what lobster looked
like. When she'd been burned from staying too long
in the sun her father had often told her she was as red
as a lobster.

Mrs Cooper dinged the rim of a crystal glass with
a fork.

'Ladies, begin.'

Charlotte was dimly aware of those around her
selecting from the steel implements. Suddenly the
air was alive with the sound of cracking and sucking.
She got the gist. You had to get into the shell for
the meat.

'Do not suck, ladies. A plughole sucks. We place
the lobster meat delicately on our tongues.'

Charlotte was fretting. She felt Mrs Cooper's
shadow fall over her. With no better idea Charlotte
reached for a fork and one of the lobster legs. It was
like trying to grab hold of a rosebush.

'Yow,' she yelped as the horny shell pricked her in
several places. She tried a different angle with no
better result. Her thumb began to bleed.

Emma laughed, 'Careful, Charlotte, the lobster
might bite off your nose.'

Charlotte turned as red as a lobster without even
venturing into the sun.

'Come on, Richards, get cracking,' urged Mrs
Cooper.

Seeing Charlotte's predicament, Hannah slid across
a lobster leg which she had already broken open.
Charlotte thanked her with her eyes and attacked it
with a fork. Even though the shell had been cracked
it was still tough. She levered hard, applying increasing
pressure.

'No, Charlotte, you do not use the fork ...'

That's as far as Mrs Cooper got. There was a mighty
crack like a rifle shot and lobster meat sprayed
everywhere, including all over Mrs Cooper's dress,
and worse, in her perfectly coiffured hair.

Charlotte would have gladly crawled under the
table but she caught sight of Rebecca signing a big
'L' for loser on her forehead for Charlie's benefit. She
had been befuddled by what the long thin skewer
in front of her was for but she figured she knew now.
It must be to poke out the eyes of people who made
fun of you trying to eat lobster. She gripped it ready
to inflict pain. Hannah's hand landed on top of hers
and her eyes urged her to desist. Charlotte let the
impulse fade. Mrs Cooper took herself off to clean up
and Charlotte was forced to endure the loser signs
from The Evil Three. Her fingers had begun to sting
from the many pricks they had suffered. She prayed
this torture would soon be over.

Not knowing where she was headed terrified Leila.
The only thought that kept her going was that
Charlotte would find her, if she were still alive to be
found. Who knew what this guy was planning? When
they finally stopped, Leila waited in the float, legs
trembling. She heard the bolt pulled back, the door
opened and there he was, staring at her.

'Hello, meal ticket.'

Leila's head was buzzing too loud for her to hear
properly. Did he just say 'meal'? Was he going to eat her?

A fat, grubby hand reached for her. She tried to bite
it but he was too quick. A bridle slipped over her.

'Spiteful little minx, aren't you?'

Next thing she was being reefed out of the float.
She tried to put on the brakes but the steel bit into
her mouth and she had no choice but to comply. She
found herself staring at a run-down farmhouse.
Some of the planks on the outside had fallen off, and
what paint there was had flaked. Rusting car bodies
littered the paddock where they had pulled up.

'Come on. Plenty of food for you.'

Food? That perked her up. But only for an instant.
She found herself in a paddock infested with weeds,
surrounded by a rusty barbed wire fence. One prick
from that wire and you could get tetanus. Gross.
She wondered where the food was that the guy had
mentioned. Then she realised he expected her to eat
grass. She wasn't a sheep!

The guy smiled through chipped teeth.

'I'm Mark, Leila. You are going to make me a lot
of money.'

Buster, you're going to earn every cent, thought
Leila as O'Regan headed towards the farmhouse
humming 'Hooray for Hollywood'. As he reached the
house's verandah he gave a little skip and his belly
wobbled. Choice, thought Leila. Come on, Charlotte,
come and find me.

Charmsworth might have been one of the worst
experiences of Charlotte's life but the horror was
diminished by her concern for Leila. Okay, so
Charlotte had people laughing at her because she
couldn't balance a book or eat lobster the right way.
Big deal. She'd prefer a steak to lobster any day and as
long as you could balance on a horse, what did it
matter what you looked like crossing a room in high
heels? What did matter was Leila, who'd given up so
much to be with her. Instead of the two of them
having adventures together, here she was having to
listen to the strange looking Mrs Cooper.

'Have you noticed how weird Mrs Cooper's face is?'
Charlotte asked Hannah as they shared a sandwich
during afternoon tea in the grounds of Charmsworth.
'The only things that move are her eyeballs and
eyebrows. It's like a mask.'

'Botox,' said Hannah authoritatively.

'What's that?'

'You get needles in your face, which stop wrinkles.'

'Needles in your face? How disgusting.'

Charlotte hated needles of any description, let
alone in your face.

'Lots of women get them so they don't look so old.
And they get facelifts too. They stretch the skin up
from here.' Hannah reached under her chin. Charlotte
put up her hands in horror.

'Please. That's enough, you're putting me off my food.'

'Trouble is, when they have too many facelifts, they
can't move their face at all. Have you ever seen
Japanese theatre?'

Charlotte hadn't even seen Australian theatre.
Well, apart from the Christmas pantomime with her
father and two other stockmen dressing up as women
and playing ugly sisters. The panto was always held in
the church hall and the story never varied.

Hannah explained. 'In Japanese theatre the actors
have these white, blank faces. We lived in Tokyo for
six months.'

'Until I came to Thornton Downs I'd only ever been
out of Snake Hills once.'

Charlotte didn't have too many good memories of
that one time. Her mother had been in the hospital
at Rockhampton.

Hannah's brow furrowed. 'Well, I've travelled a lot
and I haven't come across anyone as horrible as The
Evil Three. We have to do something.'

'I'm way ahead of you on that.'

'Any ideas?'

'We need to get to the kitchen.'

'I'm not really hungry.'

'Me either.' Charlotte moved her eyebrows just as
animatedly as Mrs Cooper but her mouth showed
a lot more smile lines. 'It's time for payback.'

With Hannah in tow, Charlotte moved around the
outside of the building to the back door of the kitchen.
The cook was sitting outside, enjoying the sun and
reading the newspaper. She didn't even look up as
the girls slid in like shadows.

'What are we doing?' whispered Hannah, confused
but excited.

'Getting ready for the next lesson,' replied
Charlotte. She then whispered her plans to Hannah,
who clapped her hands in delight.

'That's fantastic. You should be with embassy
security.'

Charlotte quickly located the pantry. She searched
around taking this and that until she was satisfied.
Hannah found what she wanted too. They left the
kitchen without being noticed. The Evil Three were
still occupied listening to their iPods and reading
magazines. Charlotte and Hannah stepped through a
side door back into the main building and down a hall
to the classroom. The schedule pinned to the door
showed the next course that afternoon to be 'Make-
Up: A Dangerous Weapon in the Wrong Hands'.

Charlotte knew Lucinda, Emma and Rebecca well
enough to know that they would dote on themselves
in front of the mirror for as long as possible during
that lesson. Charlotte and Hannah snuck into the
empty classroom. A long table had been set up with a
name tag for each of the JOES. Each girl had her own
mirror and make-up kit. Charlotte moved quickly to
Lucinda's place and opened up what she had hidden
in her top.

'Instant coffee?'

Charlotte grinned and put it in the foundation. It
was almost the same colour and blended in. Nobody
could tell.

'That will perk her up,' she joked. Lucinda had long
dark hair which she loved to brush, over and over,
while gazing at her reflection. Hannah pulled out the
tube of molasses that she'd found in the pantry. She
squeezed the sticky goo down into the base of the
bristles where it couldn't be seen. Charlotte's dad had
told her how the stockmen had played this trick on
a particularly annoying new chum.

Next, Emma. Charlotte revealed her ammunition.
Three fat, red chillies. She pulled out a spoon and
crushed them up.

'One thing about Emma. She likes a lot of red
lipstick.'

Hannah was excited at the prospect of Emma's
discomfort.

'Nice trick. How did you think that up?'

Charlotte couldn't tell her it was a Hollywood tale
Leila had passed on. A certain well-known actress
with very large lips had been rude to the make-up
artist and the make-up artist had got her own back.
When the chilli was crushed, Charlotte popped up
Emma's red lipstick and rolled it in the paste.

'She's going to be hot stuff!'

Charlotte placed the lipstick ready for action.

'What about Rebecca?' asked Hannah.

Charlotte shook her head. 'Nothing for her.'

'But she's just as bad as the other two. Maybe a bit
dumber but ...'

Charlotte winked.

'It's always good to leave a suspect.'

Hannah was breathless with admiration.

'You're so smart to think of that.'

'I got it from an actor's story,' she fudged. The bell
sounded. Payback time. Charlotte couldn't wait.

The class began predictably. It was pointed out to
the girls that while wearing make-up was
discouraged in the usual course of their time at the
JOES, a limited amount of make-up was acceptable
at awards and so forth. Under the watchful gaze of
Eve, Charlotte was commanded to try applying eye
make-up. Charlotte had no idea what she was doing
and wound up with globs on her eyelashes and rings
under her eyes.

Pretending she thought Charlotte was in a mask,
Emma began screaming, 'Please Mr Burglar, you can
have all our make-up. You definitely need it.'

Lucinda chimed in. 'Somebody should contact the
RSPCA. It's wrong that a raccoon should have to
attend a make-up class.'

Apart from Hannah, who glared at The Evil Three,
the rest of the class guffawed. Charlotte bore it all,
pretending to laugh it off, telling herself her time is
coming. There was nothing fake about Charlotte's
smile, though, when Lucinda began to dip into her
foundation.

She stirred her make-up brush around and began
to apply the foundation onto her cheeks.

Across from her, Emma preened and moistened her
lips. In her hand was the red lipstick into which
Charlotte and Hannah had ground raw chilli.
Charlotte held her breath. This was too good to be
true. Would Emma realise?

Emma was too interested in looking at herself in
the mirror and showing off to the class how well she
could do her lips. She drew the stick across her
bottom lip.

Lucinda, painfully proud of her thick hair, and
always dismissive of everybody else's, picked up her
hairbrush and waggled it at the class.

'Okay, straw mats. Look and learn how to care for
lustrous hair.'

Charlotte could see Hannah was fighting hard not
to burst out laughing. They met eyes and shot each
other a thumbs up. Charlotte felt a warm glow inside
as Lucinda pulled the brush through her tresses.
The molasses made the brush stick. The harder
Lucinda brushed, the stickier it got. Lucinda began
screaming.

'Something's wrong with my hair!'

In her panicked attempts to yank out the brush she
pulled out a huge clump of hair. Some girls shrieked
in sympathy, others, Charlotte and Hannah included,
laughed their heads off.

'It's not funny. It's not fun...eeeeeee!' Lucinda
screamed as another shrub of her hair was ripped out.
By now the coffee was sticking in globs to her cheeks.

Eve turned up her nose and sniffed.

'Has somebody been smuggling in coffee?' she asked.

Emma found a great deal of amusement at her
friend's discomfort.

That was until the chilli kicked in. She let loose a
howl.

'Owwwwwwww. My mouth is on fire.'

She ran from the room, banging into the table and
sending cosmetics flying. Charlotte and Hannah
watched gleefully through the window as Emma
appeared on the lawn outside and leapt under the
sprinkler. She jigged around for ages, getting
thoroughly soaked. The class was in uproar, the girls
with tears of laughter rolling down their cheeks.
Dripping wet, ignoring the perplexed Eve, Emma
stormed back into the room and fixed on Rebecca,
who was howling with laughter.

'This was you, wasn't it?'

'Huh?'

The accusation slowly wound its way from
Rebecca's ears to her brain and her laughter stopped.

'You think I ...?'

Emma loomed over her.

'Of course it was you. Maybe this dumb thing
you've got going is just an act. Nobody could be as
stupid as you make out. Lucinda smells like Starbucks
and my lips are burning. I'm going to make you pay.'

Lucinda, the hairbrush stuck in her hair like some
plastic Halloween hatchet, her cheeks sticky and
brown, realised what she meant.

'Me too.'

'What are you talking about?' asked Rebecca, her
eyes growing wide in panic as the others approached.
'It wasn't me.'

'No? Then how come nothing happened to you?'

Eve tried to intervene as they seized Rebecca but
she was no match for two angry princesses. Charlotte
reflected that this trick could only work with girls
who weren't really good friends at all. As Rebecca let
out a high squeal and Eve disappeared to find Mrs
Cooper, Lucinda and Emma began hurling make-up
at their 'friend'. Soon she looked a lot like a preschooler's
finger painting.

Mrs Cooper and the gardener returned and pulled
Lucinda and Emma off Rebecca. Mrs Cooper then made
them clean out the toilets as punishment and warned
them that any more such behaviour would have them
reported to Miss Strudworth. All in all it was a triumph.

Sleeping out in the open wasn't pleasant like it had
been in Snake Hills. It was cold and there were weeds
and pieces of machinery dotted throughout the paddock.
But given the appearance of the house and the
condition of the float, it was probably best. Mark
the Shark, as Leila had begun to think of him, visited
her some time after the sun went down and offered
her a carrot. She was so hungry she ate it. What a long
way it was from her climate-controlled monster
Winnebago to here. What a plunge from the heights of
Hollywood. She told herself now she had been an
idiot. Giving up the sort of lifestyle others dreamed
about for mere friendship. Leila had seen a couple of
TV movies about a King of England who chucked in
the crown for love. What a schmuck. Becoming
friends with a human, what had she been thinking?
A sickening thought crossed Leila's mind. What if
Charlotte didn't care that she'd gone? Charlotte had
Hannah now. Sure, Leila was her mount but the
stables were full of sycophants who would be happy
for Charlotte to ride them to victory. Maybe this was
it for Leila? Maybe Mark the Shark was as good as it
was going to get?