Free Family Fan Club by Jean Ure

to go and get all gooey-eyed over a smarm like Simon and end up stuck, at ten o’clock on a Saturday night, in the middle of nowhere. Not that Wimbledon was nowhere, exactly. And it wasn’t the country, either, though maybe it might look like it if the house was on the Common.
    “We’ve got to do
something!
” said Rose.
    “I know, I know!” Jazz stamped a foot. “I’m thinking!”
    “Well, you’d better think quickly, or—”
    “I know,” said Jazz. “I’ll ring Theo!”
    Theo was only thirteen, the same age as her, but he was streetwise. He had been around, he had acted on television. He would know what to do.
    Jazz picked up the receiver and punched out hisnumber. Please, God, let him be there! Please, God! Let him—
    “6428.”
    “Theo!” cried Jazz.
    “I told you he was a slimeball,” said Theo, when Jazz had explained the situation. “Hang on, I’ll go and talk to Dad.”
    Within seconds, he was back.
    “It’s all right,” he said. “Dad’ll go and pick her up. What’s the address?”
    Jazz read it out to him. “And please,” she begged, “could you ask him not to tell Mum?”
    “I’ll tell him he’s not to,” promised Theo.
    “Well,” said Rose, “what it is to have friends in high places.”
    “Theo’s not in high places,” said Jazz. But she supposed that he was, in a way, having a dad who was a television director. Television directors were a bit like gods. They were the ones who had the power to give you work.
    Jazz suddenly turned and scudded back upstairs.
    “Where are you going?” yelled Rose.
    “Just thought of something!”
    What Jazz had just thought was that she had better make sure she was looking her best for when Rufus White turned up. You never knew … he might be in the middle of casting something right now!
    From downstairs, as she raced along the landing to her room, she heard the sound of Rose’s voice, somewhat irritable.
    “Look, just stop carrying on! He’ll turn up. He always does!”
    For a moment, Jazz hesitated. Daisy loved those cats! Well, they all did. But Daisy was the real cat person. It would break her heart if Tink were to have got run over.
    Well, he wouldn’t have got run over! He was just on the prowl. Being a cat. Doing his own catty thing. Cats were always going walkabout. Jazz hardened her heart. She had her career to think of!
    Ten minutes later, clad in a clean top and a new pair of jeans, she joined Rose in the sitting room.
    “Did he say how long it would take?” said Rose.
    “Didn’t seem to think it was too far.”
    “Mum will go ballistic if she finds out … daring to disturb the great Rufus White!”
    “Well, what else could we have done?”
    Rose hunched a shoulder. “Could’ve told her to call a minicab, I s’pose.”
    “But that would cost the earth!” Jazz certainly wasn’t raiding her drama school fund just to rescue Laurel from the consequences of her own folly. Anyone could have seen that smarmy Simon was a slimeball.
    “Where’s Daisy gone?” she said.
    “Dunno. Upstairs, probably.”
    Jazz heaved a sigh. She went to the foot of the stairs and called up: “Daisy!”
    No reply. She tried again, louder, this time. “Day-zee!”
    Still no reply. Bother! That meant she was in one of her states. That was all they needed! Mum coming home to find Daisy in a state.
    Jazz bounded up the stairs, three at a time, and into Daisy’s room. It was empty.
    “Daisy!”
    She raced back down and into the kitchen: the kitchen was also empty.
    “Dai—”
    She stopped. Who had taken the chain off the front door?
    “Oh, God!” cried Jazz. “She’s gone!”
    “She’s what?” yelled Rose.
    “She’s gone!”
    “Gone where?” Rose came out into the hall.
    “Gone to look for Tink! And it’s pouring with rain!”
    “Oh, really,” said Rose, crossly.
    “It’s our fault! We should have helped her!”
    “Well, what with
Laurel
,” said Rose.
    “Yes, but you know what she’s like. You stay here! I’ll go