remember, with everyone pushing and shoving all around, and I’m usually balanced precariously on a stepladder with my camera so I can see over the top of everyone’s head. Glamorous it is not – murderous, more like.’
Jamie nods sympathetically at him. ‘He’s right; I’ve covered a few film premieres and it’s much the same at those, too. Because we’re a British TV company, we don’t get very high up the peckingorder on the red carpet, so by the time the stars get to us they’re pretty fed up answering questions. You’re lucky if you can get anything out of them at all.’
‘Oh.’ I’m somewhat disillusioned hearing all this. I’ve always dreamed of going to the Oscars, and they make it sound awful. ‘Maybe if you’re on the right side of the carpet your experience is better,’ I suggest hopefully. ‘If it’s your film premiere, or you’re up for an award, maybe you have a lovely time.’
‘Still wouldn’t want to go though, even if I was the right side,’ Max says, taking a large slurp of his coffee. ‘Most of the celebs are so up themselves they can’t see out past their own intestines into the real world.’
‘Have you met many, then?’ I ask, trying to keep a straight face. ‘Celebs, I mean, not intestines.’
Max grins. ‘Ha, I like your style, Scarlett. Yeah, a few, some are OK, others aren’t. You can usually tell by the size of their entourage. The bigger the amount of people circling them, the bigger the pain in the arse they are.’
‘How about you?’ I ask, turning towards Jamie. ‘Have you interviewed many stars?’
Jamie wrinkles his nose. ‘“Star” is a very overused word. Well-known people maybe, yes.’
I can’t help but grin at him.
‘What?’ he asks.
‘You’re so cool about everything.’
Max almost splutters onhis Frappuccino. ‘J, cool? I hardly think so.’
‘No, I mean chilled, relaxed, not flustered by the fact that you work in TV. Neither of you are, really.’
‘Should we be, then?’ Jamie asks, looking at me with that same amused expression he seems to carry most of the time.
‘Well, I think it’s exciting. It’s more interesting than what I do; supplying popcorn machines to cinemas.’
‘Are you kidding me?’ Max exclaims, his eyes wide. ‘My own popcorn machine, that’s like my life’s dream!’
‘But it’s not your average job, is it?’ Jamie continues. ‘When you were telling us about your dad and mentioned it earlier, I thought it was a bit unusual.’
‘I guess it’s not standard issue, no. But it’s still not as great as working in television.’
‘TV is not all it’s cracked up to be, I guarantee you.’
I look at Jamie over the table while he studies me equally intently in return. There’s something about him I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe I
have
seen him on TV before.
‘But it just might come in handy for you right now,’ he says mysteriously.
‘How do you mean?’
‘With your brooch. I think we can help you. I know someone whoworks on the US version of the
Antiques Roadshow
. Maybe they might be able to help you trace its history.’
‘There’s an American version of the
Antiques Roadshow
? I never knew that.’
‘Yeah, the guy that presents it used to visit the same dentist as me,’ Max says, putting his empty Frappuccino cup down on the table. ‘I sometimes used to see him when I was waiting for a check-up. Er … Walberg, his name is, Mark, I think.’
‘You have the same dentist as Mark Wahlberg?’ I ask in astonishment. ‘Wow, the
Antiques Roadshow
is way cooler over here if they have movie stars presenting it.’
Jamie and Max both laugh. ‘No,’ Max says. ‘Not the ex-rapper, now actor and producer Mark Wahlberg. This guy is called Mark L. Walberg. Same name, different spelling.’
‘Oh right,’ I blush. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s fine,’ Jamie smiles. ‘I bet he gets it all the time.’
‘I bet he wishes he got rapper Wahlberg’s wages, though!’ Max jokes.
Jamie nods sympathetically at him. ‘He’s right; I’ve covered a few film premieres and it’s much the same at those, too. Because we’re a British TV company, we don’t get very high up the peckingorder on the red carpet, so by the time the stars get to us they’re pretty fed up answering questions. You’re lucky if you can get anything out of them at all.’
‘Oh.’ I’m somewhat disillusioned hearing all this. I’ve always dreamed of going to the Oscars, and they make it sound awful. ‘Maybe if you’re on the right side of the carpet your experience is better,’ I suggest hopefully. ‘If it’s your film premiere, or you’re up for an award, maybe you have a lovely time.’
‘Still wouldn’t want to go though, even if I was the right side,’ Max says, taking a large slurp of his coffee. ‘Most of the celebs are so up themselves they can’t see out past their own intestines into the real world.’
‘Have you met many, then?’ I ask, trying to keep a straight face. ‘Celebs, I mean, not intestines.’
Max grins. ‘Ha, I like your style, Scarlett. Yeah, a few, some are OK, others aren’t. You can usually tell by the size of their entourage. The bigger the amount of people circling them, the bigger the pain in the arse they are.’
‘How about you?’ I ask, turning towards Jamie. ‘Have you interviewed many stars?’
Jamie wrinkles his nose. ‘“Star” is a very overused word. Well-known people maybe, yes.’
I can’t help but grin at him.
‘What?’ he asks.
‘You’re so cool about everything.’
Max almost splutters onhis Frappuccino. ‘J, cool? I hardly think so.’
‘No, I mean chilled, relaxed, not flustered by the fact that you work in TV. Neither of you are, really.’
‘Should we be, then?’ Jamie asks, looking at me with that same amused expression he seems to carry most of the time.
‘Well, I think it’s exciting. It’s more interesting than what I do; supplying popcorn machines to cinemas.’
‘Are you kidding me?’ Max exclaims, his eyes wide. ‘My own popcorn machine, that’s like my life’s dream!’
‘But it’s not your average job, is it?’ Jamie continues. ‘When you were telling us about your dad and mentioned it earlier, I thought it was a bit unusual.’
‘I guess it’s not standard issue, no. But it’s still not as great as working in television.’
‘TV is not all it’s cracked up to be, I guarantee you.’
I look at Jamie over the table while he studies me equally intently in return. There’s something about him I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe I
have
seen him on TV before.
‘But it just might come in handy for you right now,’ he says mysteriously.
‘How do you mean?’
‘With your brooch. I think we can help you. I know someone whoworks on the US version of the
Antiques Roadshow
. Maybe they might be able to help you trace its history.’
‘There’s an American version of the
Antiques Roadshow
? I never knew that.’
‘Yeah, the guy that presents it used to visit the same dentist as me,’ Max says, putting his empty Frappuccino cup down on the table. ‘I sometimes used to see him when I was waiting for a check-up. Er … Walberg, his name is, Mark, I think.’
‘You have the same dentist as Mark Wahlberg?’ I ask in astonishment. ‘Wow, the
Antiques Roadshow
is way cooler over here if they have movie stars presenting it.’
Jamie and Max both laugh. ‘No,’ Max says. ‘Not the ex-rapper, now actor and producer Mark Wahlberg. This guy is called Mark L. Walberg. Same name, different spelling.’
‘Oh right,’ I blush. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s fine,’ Jamie smiles. ‘I bet he gets it all the time.’
‘I bet he wishes he got rapper Wahlberg’s wages, though!’ Max jokes.
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