- Home
- MacDonald, Alan; Roberts, David;
Starstruck!
Starstruck! Read online
To Emily and Lucy ~ A M
For Nancy ~ D R
Have you read the other
Angela Nicely books?
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Starstruck!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Blooming Gardens!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Problems, Problems!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Copyright
Angela bounced into the kitchen.
“Mu-um,” she said. “You know my favourite band in the whole wide world?”
“I think you may have mentioned them,” said Mrs Nicely.
For weeks Angela had been talking about New Boyz – the best boy band in the world. Angela knew all their names: J.J., Nick, Jack and, most importantly, Zac, the lead singer. All her friends agreed that Zac was completely dreamy. Angela knew all the band’s songs and drove her parents mad by singing them endlessly.
“Well,” said Angela, “you won’t believe it but they’re coming to the Arena next Saturday. Isn’t that amazing?”
“Amazing,” said Mrs Nicely, clearing the table.
“So I was thinking…” began Angela.
“Out of the question,” said Mrs Nicely. “You are NOT going to the concert.”
Angela pouted. “Ohhh. Why not? Tiffany’s going … and Laura and Maisie want to go.”
“I’m sure they do,” said Mrs Nicely. “But have their parents agreed?”
“Well, not yet,” admitted Angela.
“You’re far too young to be going to pop concerts,” said her mum.
“But you could take me,” Angela pleaded. “Tiffany’s mum is taking her.”
Mrs Nicely rolled her eyes. She couldn’t think of anything worse. A concert with thousands of screaming girls. She’d have to listen to New Boyz and Angela singing in her ear all night. It would be unbearable. On the other hand, Mrs Charmers was taking Tiffany and she would probably go on about how fabulous it was for weeks.
“All right, I’ll think about it,” sighed Mrs Nicely. “But I’m not making any promises.”
Angela clapped her hands. After all, what was there to think about?
Over supper that evening Angela returned to the subject.
“Dad, has Mum told you about the concert?”
“What concert?” said Dad.
“Next Saturday – New Boyz are coming to the Arena,” Angela replied.
“Never heard of them. Are they famous?” asked Mr Nicely.
“Da-ad!” groaned Angela. “They’re only the best band in the whole wide world! And Mum says she’ll take me – maybe, probably.”
Dad shrugged. “Well, if your mum wants to go it’s fine with me,” he said.
“Obviously I don’t want to go but Angela is desperate,” said Mrs Nicely. “And besides, Linda Charmers is taking Tiffany.”
Dad raised his eyebrows.
“Oh, well, if Tiffany is going that settles it,” he said.
“Will you take me, Mum?” begged Angela. “Pleeeease! And can Maisie and Laura come, too?”
Mrs Nicely groaned. “Yes, all right!” she said. “But only if their parents give their permission.”
Angela whooped. She couldn’t wait to ring her friends to tell them the great news. They were actually going to see New Boyz in concert. It was going to be the best night of her life!
At school the next day the girls couldn’t talk about anything else.
“I can’t believe that we’re actually going!” sighed Angela.
“Nor me,” said Laura. “It’s like a dream come true.”
“Do you think we’ll see Zac?” asked Maisie.
“Of course we’ll see Zac,” said Angela. “He’s the lead singer.”
At that moment Tiffany Charmers skipped by.
“Oh Tiffany, you’ll never guess what,” cried Angela. “We’re going to see New Boyz!”
“You are not!” scoffed Tiffany.
“We are!” said Maisie. “Angela’s mum’s taking us.”
Tiffany stuck her nose in the air. “Well anyway, I bet you haven’t got good tickets,” she said. “You’re probably sitting miles from the stage.”
“Why, where are you sitting?” asked Angela.
“Right at the front,” boasted Tiffany. “The tickets were ever so expensive but Mummy didn’t mind. She says I deserve the best!”
Angela pulled a face. Trust snooty Tiffany to have the best seats in the house. She always had to go one better than everyone else.
“We don’t care where we’re sitting,” said Maisie.
“No, as long as we’re going,” agreed Laura.
“Fine,” trilled Tiffany. “But I’ll be so close I’ll probably be able to touch Zac’s hand!”
This was too much. Angela glared. “So what?” she said. “I’m actually going to meet him. So there!”
Everyone turned to look at her open-mouthed.
“ANG-ER-LA, you big liar!” cried Tiffany.
“It’s true,” claimed Angela. “My dad knows someone who is friends with New Boyz and he can fix it for me to meet Zac.”
“I don’t believe you!” sneered Tiffany.
“Don’t then,” said Angela.
Tiffany folded her arms. “You’re really actually going to meet Zac?”
Angela nodded. “That’s what I said.”
“Okay, I want to see a picture of you and Zac together, then I might believe you,” said Tiffany.
Just then the bell rang for the start of school.
“Are you serious?” Laura whispered as they lined up. “Who’s this person who’s friends with Zac?”
“There isn’t one,” said Maisie. “Angela made it up, as usual.”
“Only because Tiffany made me,” huffed Angela. “She’s such a big show off!”
“Yes, but what are you going to do?” asked Laura. “Tiffany wants to see a picture!”
Angela frowned. “You never know, I might meet Zac,” she said. “He’s going to be there, isn’t he?”
“Angela, thousands of people will be there,” said Laura.
“And Zac will be on stage – you’re never going to meet him,” said Maisie.
Angela sighed. Why couldn’t she keep her big mouth shut? She should never have told Tiffany such a whopping great lie. If she didn’t get a picture of herself with Zac, Tiffany would make sure the story was all round the school.
On Saturday night Angela and her friends joined the crowds flooding into the Arena. Angela looked around excitedly. She’d never seen so many people.
“Now, a few rules before it starts,” said Mrs Nicely. “We keep together, stay in our seats and please, please, no screaming.”
“What about when they come on stage?” asked Angela.
“Especially when they come on stage,” said Mrs Nicely.
They went to find their seats. It turned out that they were in row ZZ, about a million miles from the stage. The only way they were going to see the band was by watching the giant screen. Angela frowned – she’d been secretly hoping she might somehow bump into Zac but now she realized she’d have to climb over two thousand people to even get near him. Tiffany was going to be so smug when she saw her at school on Monday.
The house lights suddenly went down, plunging them into darkness. Laura squealed.
“Please, no screaming,” warned Mrs Nicely.
Suddenly New Boyz appeared on the stage, bathed in spotlights.
“AAAAAAAARGH!” screamed the girls.
At the interval,
Angela and her friends went to the toilet while Mrs Nicely queued for drinks. “That was incredible!” said Angela, as she washed her hands.
“I’ve nearly lost my voice,” said Maisie.
“Oh, hello Ang-er-la!” trilled Tiffany, spotting her. “How are your seats?”
“Er … great,” said Angela. “We can see everything.”
“We’re so close, it’s amazing,” said Tiffany. “Zac actually waved at me!”
“Really?” said Angela. “I think he waves at everyone.”
“Anyway, you’re actually going to meet him,” said Tiffany. “When’s the big moment?”
“Oh soon, after the concert,” lied Angela, turning red.
“Amazing!” cried Tiffany. “Say hello from me and don’t forget that picture – otherwise I might think you’re telling a big fat lie. Bye, Ang-er-la!” She dried her hands and danced off.
Angela’s shoulders drooped. Seeing Tiffany had spoilt the whole evening. How was she meant to get a picture of her and Zac? Their seats were miles away from the stage and right now he was probably in his dressing room. Wait a minute, thought Angela, his dressing room…
It had to be somewhere in the building! She followed Maisie and Laura out of the toilets.
“Quick this way,” she whispered. “We don’t have much time!”
“Where are we going?” asked Laura.
“To find Zac’s dressing room of course,” answered Angela.
“ANGELA, you are bonkers!” said Maisie.
They hurried along the corridor through crowds of fans. At last they came to some double doors with a sign saying “NO ENTRY!” A giant of a man wearing dark glasses guarded the door.
“Let’s go back,” whispered Laura. But Angela stepped forwards.
“Excuse me,” she said. “I’m a friend of Zac’s.”
The bouncer looked her up and down. “Is that right?” he growled.
“Yes, can I go and see him? I promised I would,” said Angela, which was sort of true.
“Sure,” said the giant. “Just show me your backstage pass.”
Angela’s face fell. “Oh, um … I think I must have lost it,” she said.
The giant shook his head. “Sorry, missy, no pass, no entry. That’s the rules.”
Angela returned to her friends. It was hopeless. She would never get to meet Zac.
“Never mind, let’s get back,” said Laura. “Your mum will be going mad.”
“And we’ll miss the second half,” said Maisie.
They started to hurry back the way they’d come. They hadn’t gone far when a woman passed them dragging a clothes rail with four suits on coat hangers. Angela stared. They could only be heading for one place – the band’s dressing room. This was her chance. She doubled back following the clothes rail and ducked behind it.
It was a few seconds before her friends realized she’d gone. Maisie looked round and caught sight of Angela’s shoes perched on the rail beneath the suits.
“ANGELA!” she hissed. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
A hand stuck out from the suits and gave her a thumbs up. Maisie groaned. Sometimes Angela was unbelievable.
The clothes rail trundled on for what seemed an age. At last it halted. Angela heard a loud knock on a door. A voice answered and the clothes rail was pulled into a room.
“Oh thanks, leave it there,” said a voice.
The door slammed shut.
The room was small and brightly lit. Cautiously Angela peeped out from between the suits. It was them – New Boyz! She was actually in the same room, breathing the same air! JJ, Nick and Jack lolled on chairs, sipping water and checking their phones. Zac was combing his glossy brown hair in the mirror.
Angela’s heart thumped. She hadn’t planned what to do next. Should she jump out and surprise them? What if they called the giant guard she’d met earlier? Or the police? Even worse, what if they called her mum?
Zac looked at his watch. “Five minutes, boys,” he said. “Better get ready.”
Angela clapped a hand over her mouth. The suits! Any moment now they’d take them off the rail and discover her! She raised herself to look out but the clothes rail was starting to tip. Help! She was falling…
CRASH!
Angela landed on the floor in a tangled heap of suits and coat hangers. The band jumped up in surprise.
“Where did YOU come from?” asked Zac.
Angela struggled to her feet. “I was hiding,” she said. “I just … um … wanted to meet you. I’m Angela.”
“Quite an entrance, Angela,” grinned Zac.
“You can’t stay here,” frowned Nick. “We’re on stage in a minute.”
A knock on the door made Angela jump.
“Last call!” said a voice.
“Please don’t tell!” begged Angela. “I didn’t mean any harm. It’s just I told Tiffany I was going to meet you but I made it up, so I had to find a way to get in … and … and…”
She trailed off, hanging her head. Suddenly she realized this was all a big mistake. She should never have hidden among the suits, or worse, gone off without telling her mum. Now she was in big trouble with everyone.
“So who’s this Tiffany then?” said Zac.
“She’s in my class and she’s sitting in the front row,” said Angela. “She’s such a show-off smarty-pants.”
“A show-off smarty-pants?” said Zac. “They’re the worst. Did you come with her?”
Angela shook her head. “No, I’m with my friends and my mum. She’s going to kill me!”
“Don’t worry,” said Zac. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we give smarty-pants Tiffany a surprise?”
He put on his jacket and opened the door. “Are you coming?” he asked.
Back in the Arena, Mrs Nicely was getting worried. Where on earth was Angela? Laura and Maisie had returned with some story that they’d left Angela queuing for popcorn.
“What’s she doing?” demanded Mrs Nicely. “I’m going to find her.”
“No! She’s coming,” said Maisie.
“Once she’s got an ice cream,” added Laura.
Mrs Nicely frowned. “I thought you said popcorn,” she cried. “I want the truth, Laura – where is she?”
Laura bit her lip. “She’s gone to see Zac,” she mumbled.
“ZAC!” yelled Mrs Nicely, jumping up. “You mean Zac in the band?”
Just then the lights went down and screams greeted the band back on stage. Mrs Nicely looked up. She counted five figures on the giant screen. The fifth one wasn’t a member of the band, though. It was a small girl with blond hair and a huge grin on her face.
“ANGELA!” gasped Mrs Nicely, clutching her seat.
“Welcome back!” said Zac. “Say hello to the newest member of the band – Angela.”
Angela twirled and took a bow.
“This next one’s for Tiffany who thought Angela was making it up,” said Zac. “Hi, Tiffany!”
In the front row, Angela spotted Tiffany with her mouth hanging open. She gave her a big wave.
Angela ran out into the garden. She was playing Hide and Seek with Laura and Maisie but where could she hide? Her eyes fell on her mum’s new pond. It was backed by long reedy grass, perfect for hiding. She hurried towards it.
“ANGELA!”
Uh oh. She hadn’t noticed her mum weeding in the flowerbeds.
“Keep away from that pond,” warned Mrs Nicely sternly. “I’ve told you before.”
“But Mum, I’ve got to hide!” begged Angela.
“Not in the garden,” said Mrs Nicely.
Angela blinked. “Why not?” she said.
“Because tomorrow is the Best Kept Garden Competition and people will be coming to look round,” explained Mrs Nicely. “I’ve just finished weeding the garden and the last thing I need is you trampling on the flower beds.”
“I won’t,” promised Angela. “But I’ve got to hide somewhere.”
“Hide indoors,” said Mrs Nicely.
“M
UUUM! There’s no time!” groaned Angela, throwing up her hands.
It was too late – she heard the back door open and Laura’s footsteps getting closer. Angela dived behind the garden bench.
“I can see you, Angela!” sang Laura, from the top of the steps.
Angela’s head peeped into view.
“It’s not fair, I wasn’t ready!” she grumbled.
“I counted to ten,” said Laura. “I found Maisie, too.”
Maisie came outside to join them.
“I’m tired of Hide and Seek,” she said. “Let’s play something else.”
“We can’t play in the garden because we’re not allowed to touch anything,” said Angela, rolling her eyes.
“I’m sorry, girls, but I’ve entered the Best Kept Garden Competition,” Mrs Nicely explained. “I’m really hoping I might win this year.”
“Wowee!” said Laura.
“Of course I’ll have to beat Mrs Nettles, she always wins,” sighed Mrs Nicely. “Last year I stood a really good chance until an army of slugs invaded my primroses.”
“Slugs? Eww!” said Maisie, pulling a face.
“Yes, they eat the plants,” said Mrs Nicely. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Mrs Nettles had something to do with it. That woman would stop at nothing to win.”
Angela’s eyes grew bigger. She’d never met Mrs Nettles but she sounded really mean. Perhaps she’d crept into their garden leading an army of slugs? Who knew that gardeners could be so sneaky just to win a competition?
“Anyway, I have my ornamental pond this year,” said Mrs Nicely. “That’s my trump card to impress the judge.”
“Is there a prize if you win?” asked Angela.
“I don’t care about prizes, I take part for the pleasure of showing my garden,” said her mum. “Although I think the winner gets a gift voucher for seventy-five pounds.”