Piano shot Ellie a poisonous look, but didn’t say anything. Ellie was discovering just what a peach of a job the others considered the interview to be, and how jealous they were, but she didn’t care. This was her chance to prove herself, and she wasn’t going to let Piano, Carlotta, or anyone else put her off.
There was plenty about Pop and Lolly on the internet. Ellie turned from the laptop screen to her notes. She had a question she needed to write down: had Lolly’s decision to study medicine been an easy one? It would be interesting to know why she wanted to change her career so dramatically. There was a world of difference between being a celebrity performer and a medical student.
Ellie had printed out a list of questions that were regularly used by Heart interviewers, but she saw no reason why she couldn’t ask one or two of her own. After all, you couldn’t call yourself a journalist unless you were prepared to probe. A shiver of expectation ruffled the fine little hairs on Ellie’s arms. She hoped she wouldn’t be totally cowed by such a high-profile interview when the time came. What if she messed it up?
Back home after work, Ellie thumbed through her notebook, reading over her notes for the interview the following day. Seeing her father’s words again, she remembered about showing her mum and went to find her.
Georgia and Ellie sat at the kitchen table together to look at the book. “That’s amazing,” said Georgia quietly, as she read the words her husband had written over fourteen years ago. “I had no idea. I realized he hadn’t taken it with him, and just assumed there wasn’t anything in it.”
“What I don’t understand is why he wrote You can do this!” said Ellie. “It means a lot to me, because I’m just starting out, and need all the encouragement I can get. But he was really experienced.”
Georgia had a faraway look in her eye. “Experienced, yes,” she said. “But, though he never said anything to me about it, I knew how much he had to psych himself up for those trips. He wasn’t an irresponsible thrill seeker. He went to those dangerous places because he thought he owed it to the people who had died there. He wanted their stories to be told.” Georgia touched the pencilled words gently with her finger. “I wish I’d known about this before. I’d have been more understanding that last time he went away. I was expecting you at the time. I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t make it easy for him.”
Ellie bit her lip. “Maybe I shouldn’t have shown you,” she said.
Georgia shook her head. “No. You did the right thing. Really. Did he write anything else?”
Ellie thumbed through. There seemed to be a phrase at the top of every few pages. Ellie’s heart beat faster. The second phrase, five pages in, was Trust your instincts. Ten pages in, the third phrase was Make someone smile every day. She showed her mum.
“He used to say that to me all the time,” said Georgia. “Needless to say, we didn’t always manage it!”
Ellie felt overwhelmed with emotion. She had never met her dad, and yet he was speaking to her, using phrases that obviously had meant something important to him.
“I don’t think I want to read any more just now,” she said to her mum. “You can if you like, but I think, if there are any more I’ll save them for later. He must have spaced them out through the notebook so he could savour each one as he reached it. I think I’ll do the same.”
Georgia gave her daughter a hug. “Your dad would have approved of that,” she said admiringly. “I would never have the self-discipline to do the same, but it’s a very good plan.”
After supper, Ellie had to decide what she was going to wear for the interview. She tried to view her wardrobe dispassionately. What she saw didn’t impress her. She’d always been happy enough with her clothes in the past. She had loads of T-shirts and tops, several skirts and a couple of pairs of decent jeans – but since she’d started at Heart, dissatisfaction had crept in. It wasn’t that Ellie wanted to try to emulate Angel or Francesca. They were virtually stellar in the fashion stakes, but were much older than her, and their clothes didn’t appeal to Ellie. But Carlotta and Piano had the sort of style that made her despair. It wasn’t so much that their clothes were expensive, though it was obvious that some of them were. It was more that, whilst Ellie had always thought she looked fine, next to Carlotta and Piano – and with such famous people to interview – she suddenly felt totally uncool.
“What are you doing?” Ellie’s mum was standing in the doorway, looking at the heap of discarded clothes on Ellie’s bed.
“Trying to decide what to wear tomorrow.” Ellie tried not to let her voice seem plaintive, but even to her own ears it sounded suspiciously like muted wailing.
“Didn’t you borrow something from Heart?”
Ellie frowned. “What do you mean?”
Georgia smiled. “Aren’t there racks of samples everywhere? I thought that was what it was like in these fashion magazines.”
Ellie’s face fell. “There are loads of samples,” she admitted. “But it didn’t occur to me to ask if I could borrow anything, and it’s too late now!”
Ellie’s mum smiled. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’ll know next time. For now, what about your new cream top and jeans?”
Ellie gave her a pitying look.
Her mum soldiered on. “Jeans are cool. And your new top suits you.”
Ellie plonked herself down amongst the clothes and folded her arms, feeling furious. “I bet we are allowed to borrow stuff. Piano and Carlotta are always turning up in new things but complaining about their low wages. I’m so stupid! Why didn’t I realize?” Ellie was really annoyed with herself, but she was even more angry with the girls in the office. Someone could have helped her out. Carlotta and Piano probably hadn’t because they were still jealous she’d got the assignment. Still, feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to make things any better. She needed inspiration, and she needed it now.
“I’m not trying to be funny, Mum,” she said. “But I am going to be interviewing Pop and Lolly Lowther. I’ll feel invisible next to them unless I wear something special…and I don’t have anything even approaching special.”
Georgia Ixos moved some of the clothes aside and joined her daughter on the bed. “I know what you mean, love. But will they be wearing glamorous clothes for an interview?”
Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know. But they used to be models as well. So probably.”
“Shouldn’t a good interviewer be almost invisible?”
Ellie considered. “Well, maybe,” she admitted, trying to be fair. “But they are only letting me do this particular job because of my age. And it’s not just the interview. They are going to take pictures!” Ellie leaned her elbows on her knees and put her chin in her hands. “All my friends will buy the magazine to see me in it…and I’ll look pathetic!” All of a sudden she felt tears pricking at the backs of her eyes.
Georgia put her arm round her daughter and hugged her. “There’s no way you’ll look pathetic. But I do understand, love – feeling it is just as bad as looking it, when you’re in a situation like that.”
“I’ve been through everything I’ve got, Mum,” Ellie mumbled into her hands. “And it’s hopeless.”
“What about a retro look?”
Ellie sank down backwards, until she lay amongst the disorder from her wardrobe. “I don’t have anything retro,” she said.
“I do,” said Georgia in a quiet voice.
Ellie’s reply was muffled by clothing. “What?”
“There’s Granny’s sixties daisy dress.”
Ellie fought to sit up again and emerged with her hair in a mess. “What daisy dress?”
Georgia smiled. “I don’t think you’ve ever seen it. It was never right for any of the fancy-dress parties you’ve been to. And it’s so pretty I could never bring myself to put it in the dressing-up box for you when you were little. I was afraid it might get torn. It’s in a bag in my wardrobe. Would you like me to get it?”
Ellie looked uncertain. “Okay.”
While her m
um went to find it, Ellie tried not to hope too much. It was almost certain to be dire. Retro clothes could be cool, but that didn’t mean anything old would work, and the sixties had started over fifty years ago! Could any clothes last that long and still look good? Her mum was gone for quite a long time, and when she finally returned, Ellie was busy folding up tops and shoving them back where they belonged. She had put aside a skinny top to wear. It meant she would probably be cold during the interview, but it would be worth it not to feel a total loser. It would just about do, paired with her best jeans.
“Here you are! Sorry I was so long. I’d forgotten where I’d put it. Anyway, it needs ironing, but see what you think.” Her mum held out a plastic carrier bag in one hand and some sort of hat in the other.
Ellie took the bag, and gave the hat a baleful glance. “You know I don’t wear hats.”
Slowly, she drew a handful of dark blue fabric out of the bag. It felt limp and was badly creased, but, actually, now she could see, it wasn’t just blue, it was dotted with huge, white, abstract daisies with bright pink centres. The design should have been awful, but strangely it wasn’t. She shook the dress out and stood up. The long sleeves were tapered in tightly at the wrist, and there was a wide belt covered in the same fabric to cinch in her waist. It had a high neck and a short, flared skirt that would swirl about as she walked. It looked different from anything Ellie had ever worn before.
Georgia opened the wardrobe door so that Ellie could look at herself in the long mirror. She held the dress up against her front and looked. “I’m not sure. It’s…” Ellie couldn’t imagine her granny ever wearing this dress. It was too funky. It shouted hot summer days and noisy parties. It was somehow wild and yet demure at the same time. “Maybe if we ironed it…”
“Don’t go away. I’ll do it. It’ll only take a couple of minutes.” Georgia grabbed the dress, and Ellie could hear her mum setting up the ironing board in the kitchen. Ellie felt she should offer to do it. After all, it was for her, but instead she waited, trying not to expect too much.
“Try it on.”
Ellie scrambled into the dress. It felt strange. The cut was so different to the clothes she was used to.
“Put on your sandals,” said her mum. “Before you look at yourself again.”
As Ellie stood up in her low-heeled sandals, her mum plonked something on her head.
“This was Granny’s too. She used to have a thing about John Lennon. You know? From the Beatles.” The cap had gone on at an angle, and Ellie shook her head in irritation. “I hate hats!” But before she could wrench it off her head she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
Suddenly it wasn’t Ellie Ixos standing in front of the wardrobe mirror, with a grumpy expression on her face. Instead, there was a person with real style, with the sort of edginess she’d admired in Carlotta and Piano. It wasn’t up-to-the-minute fashion, but it worked in a way none of her clothes had ever worked before. The modern shoes with the retro dress and, most of all – though she hated to admit it – the cap: that was what pulled it all together and turned the outfit into something special. She didn’t know why it looked so totally cool, instead of like a nerdy fancy-dress outfit, but she did know, beyond anything she’d known before, that it worked.
The morning of the interview, Ellie got up very early. She was ready ages before she needed to be and sat in her room, wondering how to stop herself getting even more horribly nervous. To distract herself, she decided to see if her best friend, Hannah, was online. She wasn’t, so Ellie wrote her a message on Facebook: So nervous about interviewing Pop and Lolly Lowther today. Wish me luck! I’ll be online again at the end of the day. Watch this space…
She read over what she’d written and paused. What if the interview went disastrously wrong? She wouldn’t feel like chatting about it then. Maybe she ought to delete the last bit. But before she could do anything about it her mobile rang. It was Hannah.
“Thought I’d ring to say good luck,” said Hannah, “before I get on the Tube.”
“Thanks,” said Ellie. “I was going to leave you a message on Facebook. I thought you might have forgotten about the interview.”
“No way!” said Hannah, sounding affronted. “As if I would.”
“Sorry,” said Ellie. “I’m just so nervous! What are you up to today?”
“We’ve got a nursery school group coming in, so I’ll probably spend all my time trying to stop the children hugging the chicks to death,” said Hannah with a laugh. “Working at a city farm isn’t exactly glamorous like your job.”
“But you love it,” said Ellie.
“Yes,” said Hannah. “I do.”
By the time Ellie and Hannah had stopped chatting it was time to go. In fact Ellie had to hurry. She was just in time to catch the bus and slumped into her seat with a sigh of relief. She pulled out her notebook and studied the questions she’d prepared. She wanted to feel as much in control as possible. She also reread her dad’s second phrase. Trust your instincts. She planned on doing that too.
As soon as she reached the office she hung up her coat, and put on her sandals. It felt odd to be keeping the cap on indoors, but that was probably because she wasn’t used to wearing any kind of hat, indoors or out.
She was a few minutes early, and so instead of going straight into the office she headed downstairs to see Sophie. Ellie hoped she’d be able to tell from Sophie’s expression if the outfit worked or not. She had been so certain last night that the retro look was brilliant, but now she was starting to doubt it, and she needed some extra reassurance. She needn’t have worried.
“Wow! Get you!”
“Is it okay? Really?”
“Don’t be an idiot!” Sophie rolled her eyes. “Of course it’s okay! You look brilliant, better than any of the dragons upstairs. They’d better watch out or the Fashion Department will grab you.”
Ellie beamed. “Thanks!”
“You got all your questions sorted?”
Ellie patted her bag. “In my notebook. I’d better go. Angel will be wanting her first order of coffee.”
“Ellie.”
“Yes?”
Sophie looked serious. “Just don’t expect any compliments from them. You’ll be lucky if you even get a raised eyebrow. But they’ll notice how funky you look. Believe me.”
Sophie was right. When Ellie went in, no one said a word. Piano might have pouted a little harder than usual, but Carlotta avoided having to greet her by looking away. Ellie couldn’t detect anything that betrayed Angel’s feelings about the sixties dress either, but she was sure that when Francesca came over to give her the morning coffee order, a slight ghost of a smile touched her lips…for an instant.
And no one was about to treat Ellie any differently, just because she had a high profile interview to conduct after lunch. If anything, they worked her harder than ever. Piano dumped an enormous heap of tops on her desk that had to be hung up, ready for Angel to look at, and then Carlotta disappeared off somewhere, leaving Ellie to man the reception desk, which she wasn’t really supposed to do. After that, Angel told Piano to take Ferdinand for his walk, but as soon as the Editor started talking to Francesca about the next issue of the magazine, Piano handed Ellie the lead.
When Ellie and Ferdinand returned, the office seemed unbearably noisy, with conversations and people coming and going. Usually Ellie liked it that way, but today, even when she had a few minutes to herself, she was finding it impossible to focus. She was just reading over the background notes she had made about the Lowthers, when Piano stomped up to Francesca’s desk. Ellie found it impossible to tune out Piano’s strident complaints. She watched the exchange with a carefully lowered head, in case someone noticed her and gave her another job to do.
“There’s still no water in the cooler,” Piano moaned. “I thought it was company policy for us to have it.”
Francesca was deeply involved with an article she was writing, and didn’t even look up. “So research a new supplier,” she
snapped.
“I can’t do it now,” said Piano. “I have to take a parcel downstairs to the post room. And anyway, I don’t have the authority to order more, or cancel the—”
Francesca glanced up and glared at Piano. “Ellie, get me the number will you? I’ll cancel our present order, Piano, and when you come back you can research a new supplier for me.”
Ellie sighed. She found the number from the database on her laptop, then went back and dialled it on Francesca’s phone. As soon as she heard it ring, Ellie handed the phone to the Deputy Editor and went back to her notes. But no sooner had Francesca taken the receiver, than Carlotta arrived with an urgent message for her. Ellie felt like putting her hands over her ears. She watched Francesca trying to speak on the phone and listen to Carlotta whilst at the same time keeping track of the article she was writing. At that moment, Ellie didn’t envy Francesca for her job one bit.
By lunchtime, Ellie had spent so much of the morning scurrying about on errands that she was exhausted. Usually, she took her sandwich downstairs and ate with Sophie and Flynn, but today there simply wasn’t time. Instead she grabbed a coffee from the vending machine that the others hardly ever used and sat down to gather her thoughts.
“Are you ready?” said Francesca. “The Lowthers will be here in a few minutes.”
Ellie bit back a squeak of panic and rummaged in her bag for her notebook. Joe, the photographer, arrived and she felt her panic level rising. She wanted to go and check her make-up, but Francesca was watching her, so she opened her notebook instead. The writing was a blur. She couldn’t take anything in, and she couldn’t for the life of her remember what she had decided to say as an opener.
Then the Lowthers were there, at the reception desk, with Carlotta simpering away for all she was worth. One of the girls was wearing perfectly cut black jeans, with a loose printed top. The other was wearing a short dress, opaque tights and amazing short brown boots with gold heels. Ellie noticed that no one asked them to change out of their outdoor footwear!
A Dream Come True Page 4
