‘You have done this before, haven’t you?’
‘Um . . . no, I haven’t.’
‘So what job experience do you have in the book world?’
‘Er . . . none really, I’m still at school.’
‘At school! How old are you exactly?’
‘Fifteen. I’ll be sixteen in December.’ There was a long pause at the other end of the phone. ‘Are you still there, Bethany?’
I heard a long exhalation of breath. ‘Let me call you back.’
I put the phone down. Well, that’s the end of that, I thought. I just knew she was going to call Stephanie and tell her I was too young. My first job and I was going to get sacked before I’d even started. That had to be a record.
Sure enough, the phone rang about fifteen minutes later. Bethany again. ‘Stephanie said to meet her at the front of the building at nine tomorrow morning.’ Her voice sounded clipped.
‘So I’m not sacked?’
‘No. Stephanie wouldn’t hear of it. She said it’s meant to be.’
‘Meant to be?’
‘Your horoscope told her more than any CV, she said. It’s destined. Fate. Stephanie’s big on all that.’ From Bethany’s tone of voice, it didn’t sound as though she felt the same way.
‘I will do my best.’
‘You better had,’ she said, ‘because it’s my reputation that’s on the line here. I want you to report to me at the end of every day, and if you have any questions, any problems, you call me. You got that?’
‘Got it,’ I said. I was glad we weren’t on Skype because she’d have seen me stick my tongue out at her. She sounded really bossy.
Life is constantly changing, I thought when I finally settled down for bed. My relationship with JJ is over. A new one may be about to begin with Connor. A horrible job, then the offer of an amazing one. Keira turning up out of the blue and causing problems. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?
‘Meow,’ said Dave from the end of my bed.
Sometimes, I swear that cat reads my mind.
Happiness is:
An unexpected opportunity coming out of the blue.
Sharing a tub of ice cream with a best mate.
Lying in the sun on a well-deserved morning off.
A boy I like saying he loves me.
Unhappiness is:
Not being able to be with the boy who loves me.
12
The Tour Begins
Monday morning and I was up and dressed early. I made myself a cup of tea, and a piece of toast and raspberry jam which I hardly tasted, then I went to the front of the reception area to collect the tickets and wait for Stephanie and the car. As always, the area smelt divine from the Jo Malone candles they burn there all day and I noticed the flowers of the day on the glass cabinet in the centre were an enormous display of white orchids.
Yoram was on the door for the morning shift. He’s ex-army and is lean and fit-looking. As always, he looked immaculate with short hair, a smart black suit and highly polished black shoes. He was never friendly, unlike Didier, the other security guy. I always felt that Yoram disapproved of my friendship with the Lewises, as if he felt it was inappropriate for me to mix with the residents. He gave me the briefest of nods and didn’t ask what I was doing there. I knew that Dad would have told him about me working for Stephanie already; Yoram made it his business to know everything that was going on at the apartment block.
As I waited, the French family from the third floor came down for their car and the teenage boy who had ignored me last week when I was dressed in my cleaner’s overalls, checked me out as he went past and gave me a flirty look. It felt good to be on the other side of things again, instead of the invisible girl in the rubber gloves with a mop.
At nine-fifteen, a sleek black Mercedes drew up outside. JJ had told me that they were loaning it to Stephanie as well as their apartment. I peeked into the front. A young man with blond hair under his chauffeur’s cap was behind the wheel. I didn’t recognise him from when I’d travelled with the Lewises and realised, they must have taken their drivers with them to the USA.
Five minutes later, Stephanie came down and Yoram opened the back door of the car for her. She was dressed in a pale green linen dress and her usual silver jewellery, but despite her cool outfit, she looked in a flap and was weighed down with bags of books and papers.
‘Best if you meet me upstairs next time, Jess,’ she said as she handed me one bag, then got into the car. ‘Just to check I’ve got everything. There’s always so much to carry and remember at the last minute.’
‘I’m so sorry. I should have thought of that,’ I said as I got in after her. I noticed Yoram’s expression. A slight raising of the eyebrow as if he was agreeing with her. I could just imagine his reaction when Dad had told him about me getting the job with Stephanie. He would have thought that I wasn’t up to it. I’ll show you, Yoram, I thought.
‘Don’t worry. You weren’t to know, I should have asked you,’ said Stephanie as the car pulled away. ‘You’ll get the hang of it.’
As we made our way to Piccadilly, Stephanie explained that one of the main things she wanted me to do was to manage the signing queue. That should be easy peasy, I thought. I’d been a prefect at school one term and had got good at getting people to stand in lines at school assembly. The other job she wanted me to do was to write the names people waiting in the queue on a Post-it note.
‘And then will it be my job to stick the Post-it note in a book?’ I asked as Stephanie handed me a small pad that she’d brought with her.
‘Oh no,’ said Stephanie. ‘Your job is to quickly put the note on the cover of the book to be signed, then pass it to me so I can see how to spell each person’s name. In busy shops, it’s hard to hear the individual spellings sometimes.’ She got out a piece of paper and wrote something before handing it to me. She had written, Nicky, Nikki, Nicki, Nici, Niki, Nikky. ‘See? You can spell a really simple name so many different ways. You’ll be saving me a lot of time if you write it down so I don’t have to ask, then strain to hear.’
I nodded. ‘Keep queue in order, write down names. Got it.’
‘And watch my things. When I’m busy, I can’t keep an eye on my bag or jacket. I have had things stolen before now.’
‘OK.’
‘Then, later, at the end of the day, you must send an update to Bethany,’ said Stephanie. ‘And always put a positive spin on it. A good PR person will make even a disaster sound like the best time ever.’
‘Will do,’ I said, though judging by the crowd already waiting in the rain outside the shop when we drew up, there was little chance of any of the signings being a disaster. The window display at the front right had been completely dedicated to Stephanie, with a huge life-size poster of her, and as soon as we got out of the car, someone in the waiting group recognised her and people started staring and nudging each other, looking at me as well as Stephanie. Despite my first-day job nerves, it felt exciting to be the centre of attention. We went inside and a young man with gelled-up red hair immediately came over to us, introduced himself as Barry, then took us to an area in the centre of the shop near the main stairs.
‘I thought this would be a good place for you to sign,’ he said. ‘That way, we get the customers going up and down the stairs as well.’ He pointed to a counter to our left which was piled high with Stephanie’s books. ‘People can buy there, then come over to the table here to get the books signed.’
We looked at the table and chair that had been set out and Stephanie beamed at him. ‘Good thinking. Now, Jess, you stand somewhere in between the counter and the table, OK? Post-it notes ready?’
I nodded and took up my place.
‘Now, can I get you tea, coffee, water?’ asked Barry.
‘Peppermint tea, please,’ said Stephanie as she took her place behind the desk.
Barry’s face flushed. ‘Oh, we don’t have that,’ he said.
‘Never mind. Jess will get me some, won’t you, Jes
s?’ said Stephanie.
‘Yes. Course.’
Barry dashed to the till and came back with a twenty-pound note which he handed to me.
‘Make sure it’s organic and hurry back,’ said Stephanie.
‘Right,’ I said and raced to the front of the store. Once out on the pavement, I realised I hadn’t a clue where I was going. I glanced up and down the busy, noisy road. I could see carpet shops and cafés stretched out in front of me. Where to go? Then I remembered. Fortnum and Mason! Of course. It was close by and was the poshest shop in London. It always had a great supply of rare teas and coffees and wasn’t far away.
At that moment, the skies opened and there was a torrential downpour. Within seconds, people were soaked and diving for shelter in shop doorways. I didn’t want to keep Stephanie waiting so I ran as fast as I could to Fortnum’s and into the ground floor. My hair was plastered to my head and dripping down my neck, but there was nothing I could do. I asked a doorman where the tea was and he pointed to the left of the shop whilst giving me a strange look, probably because I looked like I’d just got out of a swimming pool.
A few minutes later, I’d found the teas. I searched for peppermint teabags but couldn’t find any. I spotted a counter with loose tea. Phew. They had organic peppermint. This job is going to be OK after all. Shopping for tea, easy peasy, I thought as I joined the queue. I tried to flick some of the rain out of my hair and unfortunately it hit an old Japanese lady behind me. She bashed me with her umbrella.
‘Sorry,’ I said.
‘You very wet,’ she said and pushed her way in front of me. She didn’t look like someone to mess with so I let her go. I glanced at my watch and realised that I’d been gone ten minutes. The assistant at the counter seemed to be taking forever, chatting to her customers as she weighed tea leaves, and everyone was getting impatient. The queue nudged forward slowly and finally it was the turn of the Japanese lady. Halfway through being served, she changed her mind about what she wanted so the assistant had to start again. Finally she finished her order, but when she handed over her card for payment, her card wouldn’t go through so the assistant had to call for verification.
I felt my palms starting to sweat. Calm down, I told myself. I can’t go back without the tea so there’s no point in getting worked up. I took a deep breath and inhaled the lovely smell of coffee that filled the air. Coffee mixed with eau de damp clothes today, I thought.
At last, the Japanese lady finished her business and the queue moved forward. My turn, I thought with relief but the assistant got caught up in finding something for her manager who butted in just as I was about to speak. I looked at my watch again. I’d been gone almost twenty minutes. Finally, it really was my turn. The assistant put my tea in a bag, took payment, then I legged it back to the bookshop as fast as I could.
The store had opened and was buzzing with activity, particularly over at the signing table. I couldn’t see Stephanie anywhere, just a hoard of people, four or five circles deep. I muscled my way in to see that Stephanie was seated at the table in the middle of them, desperately trying to keep up with signing the books that were being thrust at her from left, right, behind and in front.
‘Where have you been?’ she demanded. ‘I thought you’d run off.’
‘Queue,’ I said as I tried to catch my breath. ‘Sorry. Where’s Barry?’
‘How would I know? Not organising the queue, that’s for sure. You’re going to have to do that.’
I looked at the mob around her. ‘Er . . . would you mind moving back, please?’ I ventured to the people nearest me.
No one took any notice. So much for the brilliant plan for people to buy a book from Barry, give me their name for the Post-it note and then for Stephanie to sign the book before they moved on and away. It was pandemonium and Stephanie was looking at me pleadingly.
‘Do something,’ she said, as she scribbled her name in the next book that was thrust under her nose.
I moved round to what seemed to be the front of the crowd where there were two teenage boys. ‘Who is the book to be signed for?’ I asked.
‘My mum,’ said one of the boys. ‘Anna Williams.’
‘How do you spell that?’ I asked and jotted down the name as he told me, placing the Post-it on the front of the book. As he moved forward, he turned to his mate. ‘Signed copies could be worth something,’ he said.
‘More if she was dead,’ said his friend and they both sniggered.
And she probably will be soon if this carries on, I thought as I watched more people join the crowd surging forward. People were still piling in the shop, Barry was nowhere to be seen and this was getting way out of control. I had to do something. I fought my way to the back of the crowd near the stairs and went up a couple so that I could see over everyone’s head.
‘Er . . . excuse me,’ I called. No-one even turned around. I tapped on one lady’s shoulder. ‘Excuse me, could you get in line?’
She looked at the huddle around Stephanie. ‘What line?’
‘You could make one,’ I suggested.
The lady scoffed at me. ‘Haven’t time to wait,’ she said and pushed ahead. I went back down the stairs and back to Stephanie’s side. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Not really. I might have to leave if you don’t do something,’ she said as one of the teenage boys I’d seen earlier handed her a felt pen and asked if she would sign his forehead.
I tried talking to the crowd again. ‘A single queue, please,’ I said in a loud voice.
An elderly bald man gave me a look as if to say how pathetic I was.
‘Please keep in a single line,’ I said in a slightly louder voice. ‘GET in line.’
‘I’ve been queuing for ages,’ said the old man who’d given me the look. ‘You get in line. Who do you think you are?’
‘I’m Stephanie’s PA,’ I said.
The man looked me up and down and scoffed. ‘Yeah and I’m the Pope,’ he said. ‘Now get in line like the rest of us.’
Behind him, I could see the Japanese lady from Fortnum’s had joined the queue. She gave me another bash with her umbrella. It hurt.
‘Ow,’ I protested.
‘You naughty queue jumper,’ she said and she jostled me out of her way with her elbows. That hurt too. I could just see my report to Bethany later. Stephanie Harper suffocated by flash mob in Piccadilly, London. Bookshop closed for health and safety reasons. Schoolgirl Jessica Hall held responsible for the chaos plus was arrested for biffing an old lady over the head.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a loud whistle and there was a moment of silence as everyone turned to see what it was.
‘ORDER!’ said a loud male voice. ‘Either everyone gets in a single line or Ms Harper will be leaving. Can you not see that you’re crowding her?’
I stood on tiptoe to see Connor with Raffy’s whistle in his hand and Raffy by his side. He went and positioned himself on the stairs where I’d been earlier. ‘The queue will resume to my right with the man in the blue jacket. Everyone else should line up behind him. Come on now, or you will all be asked to leave,’ he said in a very firm voice. Amazingly, people responded to him and began to get in line. Connor walked over to the table where Stephanie was so I scooted over to join them.
‘Are you all right, ma’am?’ he asked. Stephanie nodded. ‘I suggest we take a short break and come back when we have some crowd control,’ Connor added.
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Stephanie. ‘And you are?’
‘Friend of Jess’s,’ he said. ‘Can I do anything?’
‘Well, if you can keep the line in order that would be great and maybe get me some water,’ said Stephanie.
‘Coming up,’ said Connor and he turned to me. ‘Can you get that?’
I was so stunned to see him that I just nodded and ran downstairs to the basement to get water. I returned to see that Connor had the whole situation under control and the crowd had meekly done as he’d asked. At last the plan went into operation: the customer bought
a book, gave me their name, I wrote it on a Post-it note, Stephanie signed and they left happy. All the while, Connor stood by her table like a bodyguard, with Raffy at his feet.
‘Good work, young man,’ said Stephanie when, a couple of hours later, the last person had got their book signed and disappeared.
‘Glad to be of assistance,’ he said.
‘You really helped today. Have you done this kind of work before?’
Even though it was Connor, I felt a flash of annoyance. I could see what was happening. He’d taken over and was going to be given my job!
‘Not exactly,’ Connor replied. ‘But my parents are both secondary school teachers. I learnt how to do The Voice from them.’
Stephanie beamed at him. ‘You do it well,’ she said, then leant over to stroke Raffy.
Connor gave her his winning smile. ‘They have a Look too, the one they use on the really young kids. The Don’t-Push-It Look.’
I felt like giving him The Look.
‘And can you do it?’ asked Stephanie as she straightened back up.
Connor gave her a very stern look.
She cracked up. ‘Scary,’ she said. ‘And do you work?’
Connor shook his head. ‘Uni. I’m studying photography.’
‘Really?’ said Stephanie, then looked at me. ‘Jess, can I have a word?’ She drew me aside behind a bookshelf. I felt my heart sink as I prepared myself for a major telling-off.
When we were alone, she put her arm around me and gave me a squeeze. ‘You were so right to call your friend and ask him to help out,’ she said. ‘Shows you have initiative.’
‘I—’
‘So, do you think he’d like to be part of the team?’
Ah, so she does want to give him my job, I thought. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘I realise I messed up this morning, but there was a queue in Fortnum’s and this woman in front of me had got the wrong credit card—’
‘Jess, what are you on about?’
‘Being a rubbish PA and it’s only my first day. I . . . I think Connor would probably love to be a part of your team, but I wish you’d give me another go too. I won’t mess up again. Next time, I’d send someone else out to get the tea and wouldn’t leave your side. Please don’t sack me yet.’
Super Star Page 8
