Ellie looked at Angel Makepiece, who was standing next to a huge, impressive desk. The photograph in the magazine made her seem friendly as well as glamorous. She didn’t look friendly at the moment, but she certainly was glamorous. Her clothes were sophisticated and obviously expensive, but her expression was icy. Was that because Ellie had ignored her in her own office? Why should Angel Makepiece seem so angry over a simple mistake made by a work experience girl? Then Ellie remembered Uncle Patrick. He was on the board of the magazine. Had he foisted Ellie on Angel against her wishes? Maybe Uncle Patrick hadn’t done her such a big a favour after all.
Ellie’s heart dropped to the soles of her red office sandals. The last thing she needed was to be resented by the Editor just for being here, but she’d hardly done herself any favours either. Ellie had so wanted to make a good impression, but with the shoe incident and now this, all she’d done so far was to make a fool of herself. Had she made an enemy too?
Ellie tried to make the best of a difficult situation by smiling tentatively at the Editor. Angel Makepiece was an attractive woman, with short, artfully styled, blonde hair and a soft round face with a pink and white complexion. She was wearing a beautifully cut, dove-grey dress, and an expression that didn’t soften in the slightest at Ellie’s smile. In fact, she looked right through Ellie without even acknowledging her.
“How dare you leave your desk,” she told Carlotta in a steely voice, still ignoring Ellie completely. “You’re on reception duty. Piano, give the student something to do. And keep it out of the way.”
Ellie felt outraged at being referred to as “it”, but at that moment she was far too crushed to object. She was distracted by a hairy, ethnic-looking handbag, which the Editor was clutching under her arm. Ellie didn’t mean to stare so hard, but the bag looked totally incongruous in these glossy surroundings. Then, to her astonishment, the handbag gave a wriggle and a tiny, black pointed nose appeared. Two little brown eyes looked at Ellie. And from behind Angel’s arm, a long hairy tail began to wag. In spite of her discomfort, Ellie had an almost overwhelming desire to giggle.
“Coffee, Piano,” the Editor continued, playing with the dog’s ears and totally ignoring both Ellie and Carlotta. “And bring one for Francesca and Joe too. We have to get this shoot decided.”
Ellie wrenched her gaze away from the dog. Carlotta had already scuttled back to the reception desk, and so Ellie looked to Piano to tell her what to do. But the girl who had brought her up in the lift was looking almost as angry as Angel. It seemed to Ellie as though some people in Heart’s editorial office wasted a lot of energy being furious, and that most of their fury was currently directed at her. Then she noticed a dark-haired, middle-aged man wearing glasses and a crumpled linen jacket, leaning against the Editor’s desk. He must be Joe. He was offering her a sympathetic smile, but before she could respond, Piano took her elbow in a painful grip and steered her out of the office. She closed the door behind them before releasing Ellie.
“You. Follow me,” said Piano, in a cold voice.
“Okay,” agreed Ellie, rubbing her elbow. She felt totally snubbed and deflated, but she wasn’t going to let Piano, or Pea-Are-No, (however she preferred her ridiculous name to be pronounced) see that. After all, it wasn’t Ellie’s fault Piano had been told to look after her.
Piano gathered up some papers on her way past Francesca’s desk and tottered on to her own desk, trailing Ellie behind like the tail of a kite. Flynn raised his eyebrows to Ellie as she scuttled past and she gave him as big a smile as she could manage, which wasn’t much of one.
Piano sat down at her desk and pulled a stack of envelopes towards her. “Put the letters into these envelopes, making sure you match the name on the letter with the right envelope.” Her tone of voice made Ellie feel like a three year old. Piano held the stationery out to Ellie without looking at her. “I assume you are capable of doing that?”
Ellie took the bundle, feeling very hard done by. “Of course I can. You just fold them up and…”
Piano sighed. “You’d better show me. Go on. Do the first one here.”
Ellie felt more like poking Piano in the eye than demonstrating her envelope-stuffing skills, but she gritted her teeth and tried to keep her voice level. “Okay.” She looked at the name on the first envelope and matched it to a letter addressed to the same person. It wasn’t difficult, as the envelopes and letters had obviously been produced in order. “Right?” she enquired, showing Piano that the names matched. Piano nodded with a long-suffering expression on her face. Ellie folded the letter in half and was just about to fold it again when Piano squealed. Ellie almost dropped the letter.
“Not like that!”
“What do you mean?”
Piano snatched the letter out of Ellie’s hand, muttering under her breath. “You don’t just fold it any old how. It’s A4 paper. You fold the letter in three like this. See? Don’t you learn anything at school?”
Deftly, Piano folded the sheet equally into three, and slid it into the envelope. It fitted perfectly. She sealed the envelope and tapped it with her dark nails, then looked at Ellie and sighed again, extravagantly this time. She took a few sheets of plain paper and added them to the pile of letters and envelopes. “Go away and practise. When you’ve got it right, come back and show me, before you mangle any more letters. Okay?”
Ellie took the heap, feeling totally humiliated. “Where shall I go?” she asked meekly.
Piano pointed to the reception desk, where Carlotta was sitting. “Take that spare chair and go over there,” she said. “The reception desk is big enough for two.”
Carlotta seemed just as friendly as she had done to begin with. “Don’t worry about Piano,” she said. “Since she was promoted to Angel’s Personal Assistant she’s been impossible. But she’s no better than you or me.” Carlotta eyed the pile of stationery and smiled. “Forget the plain paper,” she advised. “You have to divide plain paper into thirds just by eye, but letters are much easier. Look. Estimate which line of writing is a third of the way up, and which is two thirds and make your folds there. Then you’ll get it right every time.”
“Thanks,” said Ellie gratefully. “But Pia…she, said I had to show her a properly folded piece of plain paper before I could do the letters.”
Carlotta rolled her eyes. “Here.” She folded a plain sheet almost without looking at it and passed it to Ellie. “Take that over to her in a few minutes.”
Ellie looked at the folded sheet admiringly. “That’s brilliant!” she said. “Thank you so much. Now I can get these letters done straight away.” She smiled at Carlotta, hoping she might have found at least one friend in the office.
“Anything you need to know, just ask,” said Carlotta.
But in spite of Carlotta’s friendliness, by the time Ellie had finished the letters to Piano’s approval, and had hung around for ages waiting for Flynn to find her a spare laptop to work on, she was beginning to wonder if she was cut out to work on a glossy magazine. She hadn’t come within a whisker of anything journalistic yet. Angel and Francesca were still holed up in Angel’s office and, in spite of being sent in twice with coffee for them, they hadn’t so much as acknowledged Ellie’s presence. Piano had been summoned by Francesca at one point, and was now making numerous phone calls with an exasperated expression on her face. Ellie hadn’t a clue what was going on, and no one seemed inclined to explain.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Carlotta vaguely. “It’s always manic here.”
“But I’d like to learn a bit about how it all works,” said Ellie.
Carlotta sighed. “Okay.” She swivelled her chair round so she faced Ellie. “Well. The thing is, most people think that magazines are written one issue at a time, but it doesn’t work like that. In the next few days, next month’s copy will be going to the printers, so Angel is making last-minute changes and a few finishing touches. But at the same time, she and Francesca are planning what to have in the issue after that, and also” – Ca
rlotta took a deep breath – “things like the bumper Christmas issue need planning months and months ahead so that everything gets done in time. Got it?”
“Phew!” Ellie smiled. “It does sound pretty full on. But why make changes so near going to print?”
“Because we need to be as up to the minute as possible, and sometimes things happen just as we’re approaching our deadline…like a band splitting up, or a fashion model getting in the news for falling off the catwalk, for instance. We don’t want to have to wait a whole month before writing about it!”
“Yes,” Ellie nodded. “I can see that. So some articles have to be written at the last minute. Do you write any of those?”
Carlotta frowned. “I haven’t written many full-length articles since I’ve been here,” she admitted. “Mostly it’s been just a few small pieces. But it’s my turn next. Francesca says I’m nearly ready to have a go at something bigger, and I’m hoping maybe to do a celebrity interview one day. That would be brilliant.”
“Wouldn’t it!” said Ellie, liking Carlotta more and more.
The reception desk wasn’t busy and Ellie was sure that if she had been Carlotta she’d have spent a while practising her article-writing skills, but maybe she’d done that loads of times already. Instead, she spent ages emailing her boyfriend, while Ellie tried not to read the emails over her shoulder. There was still no sign of a laptop, and although she knew she should be patient – because she was the least important person in the building – she almost felt like going home. She had assumed that she would be given articles to write straight away, and would meet loads of famous people. The magazine was always mentioning celebrities who had just dropped into the office. But not today. Carlotta didn’t seem to mind being underemployed, but Ellie certainly did. She was so bored she was almost tempted to go and tidy out the shoe cupboard.
At last, Piano put her phone down, with a grumpy face, and noticed Ellie. “Haven’t you taken those letters to the post?” she demanded.
“You didn’t—” But Piano didn’t give her a chance to explain. She picked up her phone again and keyed in yet another number.
Carlotta handed the letters to Ellie with a grin.
“Where’s the nearest postbox?” asked Ellie in a whisper, feeling annoyed with Carlotta for neglecting to tell her. “And what about the stamps?”
Carlotta giggled. “You don’t leave the building,” she said, as if Ellie should have known. “You take them to the post room. Downstairs in the basement.”
“And make sure Sophie knows that they must go first class,” shouted Piano from the other side of the office, with her ear to the phone. “Without fail.”
Ellie took the letters and hurried out.
The post room was most unattractive. The cream, gloss-painted walls were scuffed and worn, and the floor was bare wood. It was very different from the swish Heart offices upstairs. There was a large trolley parked near the door, with some post loaded on it. Dividing the room from the corridor was a long, high counter, behind which sat a cheerful-looking girl dressed in a plain jumper and jeans.
“Hi! I’m Sophie,” she said. “You must be Ellie.”
“Hi,” said Ellie, unprepared for Sophie’s broad smile, and not really trusting it, even though the girl’s clothes and hair looked reassuringly ordinary. “Piano asked me to tell you that these letters have to go first class—”
“Without fail,” finished Sophie with a laugh.
“She did say that,” agreed Ellie.
“When I deliver mail to the office she often has something to post, and she always says the same thing. Hey, you look as miserable as I’d be if I had to work up there. Fancy a coffee and a biscuit?”
“Well…” Ellie said. “I think I’m supposed to be going straight back up. And I want to see if Flynn has found me a laptop yet.”
Sophie looked unconvinced. “You mean they actually want you in their witches’ coven?”
To her great discomfort, Ellie found herself half laughing and half crying at the same time. She leaned her arms on the counter, put down her bundle of post and buried her head in her arms to try and hide her tears, while she regained her composure.
Sophie took a packet of biscuits out of a drawer and pushed it towards her. “Come round my side and sit down. I’ll put the kettle on. I wouldn’t hold your breath for a laptop today. There’s some horrendous IT problem going on in the Advertising Department at the moment. Flynn is up to his eyes.”
In no time they were sitting opposite each other at a plain wooden table, with mugs in their hands and mouths full of chocolate biscuit.
“The nicest person in the office seems to be Flynn,” Ellie told Sophie through biscuit crumbs. “He told me to come and see you if I got fed up.”
“Did he?” said Sophie, with a pleased expression on her face. “I think he’s great too, but then I would. He’s my boyfriend.”
“Is he?” Ellie felt a bit awkward. She hoped Sophie wouldn’t think she was trying to nab him for herself. Then she blushed. Of course she wouldn’t. Flynn was far too old for someone like Ellie. But he was undeniably nice!
“How did you know who I was?” she asked. “I didn’t say. I could have come from any of the offices.”
Sophie laughed. “That’s Flynn for you. He hates to see people being bullied. He texted me to look out for the new work experience girl in the Editorial Department.” Then she looked serious. “Why make life hard for yourself?” she said. “Why not go and do your work experience somewhere where you’ll actually be appreciated and have fun?”
Ellie took a deep breath and explained about her dad, her mum and Uncle Patrick. “I don’t want to give in now Mum has agreed,” she explained. “And I’m hoping that Uncle Patrick will call in and see me one day. I’d like to get to know him. Besides, I really do want to be a journalist on a magazine, and this is a good start.”
“In that case, the first thing you need to do is to know what you’re up against,” said Sophie. “I can give you the lowdown on all the staff. I get to see and hear a lot while I’m delivering mail, and Flynn does too. They’re much easier to cope with once you have the measure of them.”
“Brilliant!” said Ellie, beginning to feel a bit better.
“Okay. Now listen: top of the tree is Angel, but she’s not your typical, Christmas tree angel. She may look harmless, but she’s totally ruthless, very intelligent, and will walk all over you if it suits her. Her only soft spot is for Ferdinand.”
“Is that her husband?” asked Ellie.
Sophie gave Ellie a playful shove across the table. “No! He’s her dog. That ratty little thing she carries everywhere with her. A husband would get in the way of her career, I expect.”
“Oh.” Ellie began to giggle. “I thought he was a handbag when I first saw him.”
Sophie burst into peals of infectious laughter. “I never thought of him like that,” she giggled. “He’s…Prada with paws!”
“Or…a Gucci growler,” suggested Ellie.
When they’d both stopped laughing Sophie carried on. “Francesca is the only one who’s married,” she said. “Everyone else is on the prowl, but I think they scare off most of the men they meet. Francesca is by far the best and nicest person here.”
“Really?” Ellie was surprised. “She’s amazing looking, but she scared me rigid. I was so dazzled by her I didn’t even notice Angel at first and that didn’t go down very well with the Editor in Chief.”
“I can imagine,” said Sophie, sympathetically. “But Francesca seems very fair. She’s got extremely high standards, that’s all. You don’t need to worry about upsetting her unless you mess up the magazine, which you won’t have a chance to do on a couple of weeks’ work experience. I’ll tell you what though…”
“What?”
“Well” – Sophie settled herself more comfortably – “I got this from Flynn, who listens to all the office gossip. According to him, Angel sees Francesca as a bit of a threat.”
“Really?
” said Ellie.
“Really. Because before Angel was appointed, Francesca did a very good job of running the magazine, and she’s just waiting for Angel to make a mistake and then she’ll walk into her job.”
“Wow!” said Ellie. Then she paused. “But if she was that good, why didn’t she get the job in the first place?”
Sophie grinned. “That’s office gossip for you. It doesn’t always make sense. But Flynn reckons Angel was appointed because after her degree she worked at a high-profile magazine, whereas Francesca came up the hard way – office junior straight from school – and, well…in-house staff can often get overlooked. Imagine how cool it would be if she did get the top job one day though. Hey!” She nudged Ellie.
“What?”
“I wonder if your uncle is one of the people who helps choose the editors? I bet he is.” She smiled comfortably at Ellie. “In which case you don’t need to worry about making an enemy of Angel. She’ll be on her best behaviour all the time with you.”
Ellie shook her head. “I doubt it. If she thinks I have any influence over my uncle she couldn’t be more wrong. Anyway, that’s Angel and Francesca. Now tell me about Piano.”
“Ah.” Sophie grinned. “The lovely Pea-Are-No. Do you know, her full name is Elfin Piano Arnley-Armitage, but she dropped the Elfin for being too Lord of the Rings. She thinks Piano is more classy, but only Carlotta pronounces it how she prefers and, to be honest, I think even Carlotta is teasing.”
“I am finding it hard not to laugh at her name,” said Ellie, stifling a giggle.
“She so likes to put on airs and graces,” said Sophie. “But really her job is all about keeping Angel’s diary up to date, bringing her coffee when she can’t get Carlotta to do it and generally keeping her happy. In between writing articles of course, like they all do. Most of the writing is done in the editorial office.”
A Dream Come True Page 2
