A HOLLYWOOD CHRISTMAS CAROL
A Heartwarming Christmas Ghost Story for All the Family
(Age 8 and Up)
by Holly-Anne Divey
Approximately 10,400 Words
Copyright Holly-Anne Divey, 2011 – All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Cover -
Cover by Holly & Ivy Books, USA
Images -
Green Christmas Light by Bubbels (SXC.hu)
Red Christmas Light by Bubbels (SXC.hu)
Blue Snow by Lockheed (SXC.hu)
Hollywood Sign Font -
SF Hollywood Hills by Shy Fonts (DaFont.com)
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This story was written because of my love of three things – A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, Hollywood, and Christmas! I hope you like my modern spin on this classic tale of redemption, and I hope that you and your whole family enjoy reading it together this holiday.
Merry Christmas!
With love and best wishes for the new year...
- Holly-Anne.
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“Merry Christmas, Ms Rouge!” said Rob Pratchett enthusiastically as he came in the front door.
Lizabetta Rouge, former child star and later, serious actress mumbled some undecipherable insult at him as she passed by.
He greeted her the same way every Christmas Eve, wishing her all the best for the holidays.
She responded in the same way too, every year.
Rob adored Christmas with his family and not even the moody Ms Rouge could extinguish his Christmas spirit. It burned brightly inside him and it was the holiday of holidays for him. It was a time for celebration, a time for the family, a time to be thankful for what he had, no matter how difficult the past year had been. That was Rob's Christmas philosophy and he'd lived by it his entire life.
“Will you be spending Christmas with your niece this year? Nicole's a lovely girl,” Rob asked, knowing the answer but always hopeful that she would change her mind, just one year, and spend the festive season with her relatives, and share some Christmas cheer with them. He thought it might make her a little less mean and angry, if only for a little while.
“Of course not, you foolish man. Why would I do that? The only reason they invite me is because they expect me to spend my hard-earned fortune on lavishing presents on them,” she said, as if the thought of spending any money on anybody made her nauseous.
“Oh, I don't think that's true, Ms Rouge. Nicole adores you,” Rob said. And he was right – Nicole did adore her, although he couldn't imagine why.
Every year Nicole came to the mansion and invited Ms Rouge to her own humble home, almost apologetic for the lack of glamor in her own life. Every year her aunt said something mean. Every year. But she kept coming back each Christmas, without fail.
Car headlights illuminated the gathering darkness inside the mansion, momentarily banishing the long shadows that crept along the great entrance hall.
“That'll be Nicole now, Ms Rouge. It would do you the world of good to spend some time with your family over the holidays,” Rob said.
“Humbug!” Ms Rouge growled at him as the doorbell rang.
She gestured impatiently for Rob to open the door.
“Oh! Merry Christmas, Rob!” Nicole said.
“Merry Christmas, Nicole!”
They hugged each other warmly and as Nicole handed Rob a Christmas card for him and his family, he looked like she'd handed him a sack full of gold.
It was all extremely tiresome for Ms Rouge who stood rolling her eyes at their Christmas cheer.
Both Nicole and Rob wished it would snow in Hollywood on Christmas Eve, just once.
“Aunt Lizabetta! Merry Christmas!” she said.
“Nothing merry about it...except all the drunks who'll be littering the streets after dark,” said Ms Rouge.
“Aunt Lizabetta, please come and spend Christmas with us this year. We'd love to have you. Big party tonight with family and friends and neighbors, and tomorrow, it's usually just us and the kids. We just had our third baby, two months ago. We'd love it if you would get to know the kids,” Nicole said, ever hopeful but never really sure why she bothered with her. She guessed it was the link to her own mother who had died young in a tragic accident. She had been an actress too, just like Ms Rouge. And for some reason, she still loved her Aunt. She always had.
Harley Rouge had always outshone her sister Lizabetta on the stage and on screen, and it was only after Harley's death that Ms Rouge really shone and blossomed into a fine actress, finally able to shine.
Their rivalry had been fierce. It was legendary in Hollywood. Harley Rouge cared about nothing outside her career. She didn't even seem to care about her own daughter who grew up waiting backstage in theaters and in the dressing rooms and trailers on movie sets.
Although she was practically ignored by her mother, she remembered those days with happy nostalgia when her Aunt Lizabetta would keep her company and tell her stories, make sure the little girl knew she would always look after her, no matter what.
Ms Rouge had forgotten all about those days. And she had forgotten all about the little girl that she once loved so dearly. Over the years, Ms Rouge had turned her own heart into a cold, hard stone.
“Good grief; another child?” she said in a tone dripping with accusation.
Nicole just smiled. Nothing on earth could possibly crush her Holiday happiness.
“Well, the invitation is there. You're very welcome. The party starts tonight at 8.30. Tomorrow, we eat around 3. I hope you come Aunt Lizabetta,” Nicole said.
“Don't hold your breath, girlie,” Ms Rouge said, turning form her niece and flouncing haughtily through the archway and into her sumptuously decorated sitting room. The only reason it – and the rest of the house - was decorated that way, though, was because she paid nothing for the furnishings. She squeezed them out of the poor man she bought the house from, a man who gambled his entire fortune on funding a movie that flopped at the box office. He was desperate and Ms. Rouge used his dire situation to her advantage to take him for all she could get.
Ms. Rouge was mean all round. Even her wallet was mean.
And she always got her own way.
Nicole knew it was a waste of time to come here every Christmas, but she did anyway. And she would keep coming back, every year, no matter how many times Aunt Lizabetta refused her invitation and stood there scolding her for her kindness and her simple joy in Christmas.
“Well, the invitation stands, as always. I love you, Aunt Zabby,” she said.
Nicole thought she saw the slightest hesitation in Lizabetta's step when she called her Aunt Zabby.
That was Nicole's name for her when she was a little girl. She couldn't say Lizabetta, and it came out as Zabby.
She hadn't thought of it for years but it came back to her as she searched her mind for some way to get through to her, some way to convince her to change her mind and come back to the arms of her family.
There was nothing more that she could say. She wondered if she should maybe just give up now, just move on and forget about Aunt Lizabetta. Perhaps she should just stop doing this to herself every year and just let it go. Lizabetta was in her fifites. Perhaps she was too long in the tooth to change now, after all these years of misery.
Nicole said her goodbyes to Rob Pratchett, and to her Aunt's back, and returned to her husband in the car.
He didn't even ask what her Aunt said. He knew what the answer would be.
“I don't know why you bother with her, honey,” David said.
“Because she's my Aunt and I love her,” she told him.
“What is there to love? She's never said a kind word or visited in all the years we've know each other, Nic.”
“I know, I know. I should quit. I know I shouldn't care, but I do. Don't ask me not to,” she said.
“I wouldn't do that, sweetheart,” he said.
“I know,” Nicole said, giving him a little smile in the soft darkness of twilight as they began heading home to spend a happy evening with family and friends at their annual Christmas Eve party.
* * *
“Ms. Rouge?” Rob said.
“What is it, Pratchett?” she asked, testily.
“I was wondering if you need me any more today?”
She looked at the clock on the mantle.
“It's only 6.15pm, Pratchett; you don't finish work until seven. Is there something particularly crucial you have to do today that you need to leave early?” she asked him.
“Um, no; except it's Christmas Eve. Aren't you going to Nicole's Christmas party this evening?” he asked her.
“You know the answer to that, Pratchett. Why on earth would I take part in nonsense like a Christmas party?” she tutted and rolled her eyes at him, as if he'd said something utterly outrageous.
“Because she's family and she loves you,” Rob said.
“Pratchett, do you like your job?”
“Yes, of course,” he lied.
“Then it would be of benefit to you to shut your mouth and keep your nose out of my personal life if you want to keep working for me. Personal Assistants are a dime a dozen in this town,” she snapped at him.
And he did. He shut his mouth. He couldn't lose this job. He needed it. It was getting expensive looking after Little Jim, and Marlena would probably be giving up work to look after Little Jim full time; Rob didn't think he would be able to go back to school after the holidays.
“Yes, I thought so,” she said, her face smug now as she looked down her nose at him. They looked at each other in silence for a moment. Rob remained quiet, even although there were a thousand things he wanted to say to her right now, and most of them not pleasant.
He wanted to tell her she was a miserable, joyless, miserly woman who will grow old all alone in this huge, unfriendly house, and nobody, except one person in the whole world, will care.
He wanted to tell her that there was no reason for her to live her life this way, and that there was a family – her family – waiting for her, right now, to celebrate Christmas together.
But he did not. He stayed silent, for the sake of his own family.
“Off you go, then. You're no use to me full of all that Christmas Spirit and Joy to the World nonsense. Humbug! Just be here at eight on the nose the day after Christmas, you hear me?” she asked him.
“Yes, Ms Rouge! Thank you! Merry Christmas!” Rob called out to her, grabbing his jacket and fleeing, before she changed her mind.