Best Friends Rock! (4 page)

“It's so annoying,” she muttered to herself. “Albion would have been perfect.”

By the time she was ready for bed, Ellie had a shortlist
of four possible candidates. She jotted the names down in her notebook and thrust it into her bag, ready for the morning. Before she turned out her light she checked her phone one last time. Hannah would be in Spain now, and if she'd forgiven Ellie for not going with her she would surely have texted to tell her what it was like. There was no text. And maybe the hotel didn't have much of an internet connection, because Hannah hadn't been on Facebook, either. Ellie sighed, and put her phone by her bed.

She switched out her light and lay down. She wished she
was
in Spain with Hannah. Today hadn't exactly been one of the best days ever. Working at
Heart
was usually so exciting, but somehow today it had lost some of its gloss. It was probably just because she missed Hannah, and because her big idea had so far come to nothing, but she couldn't help the way she was feeling. For the first time, she found she wasn't particularly looking forward to going to work in the morning. Finding information about plaits was tedious. She even wondered if Piano had made up the project just to keep her away from more interesting work. She was also worried that she'd draw a blank with the four names she'd found as possible interviewees. And instead
of worrying about this she could have been on holiday! What was she trying to prove, pretending to be a journalist? Maybe she just wasn't cut out for it. Grant Thomas had called her “my dear” and that had made her feel about six.

Then Ellie told herself not to be so stupid. She couldn't expect everything to go her way all the time. She had to
work
at being a journalist. Her father had worked at it for years. He hadn't suddenly become a renowned war correspondent by giving up at the first hurdle.

She reached out of bed and felt for her bag. She drew out the old, black notebook that had been his and clutched it fiercely. Ellie had never known her dad. He'd been killed on assignment shortly before she was born, and this notebook was all she had of his. She turned over the pages thoughtfully. Here was something she hadn't noticed before.
If you only have one direction, don't make it backwards
.

She read it several times, but it didn't help. She wished she could ask him precisely what he'd meant. After brooding about the phrase for a few more minutes she put the notebook back in her bag and turned out the light. Her dad wasn't there to help. Neither was Hannah. She didn't
want to bother her mum, so she was on her own. Why did she suddenly feel that her life was going wrong? She was usually so positive, but somehow that had all gone.
Maybe
, she thought without much hope,
I'll feel better in the morning
.

In the morning Ellie
did
feel better. Suddenly, her dad's words seemed to make perfect sense. He was telling her not to regret the past. She couldn't rewind what had already happened. Life didn't work like that. She had to cope with what she'd got. So, she had to go on, and leave worrying about herself and Hannah until she was in a position to do something about it. Forward was the way to go in life, which in her case at the moment meant going all out to find a good person to interview, and not to allow herself to become defeated. She wanted to be an excellent journalist? Well she'd have to get on with it then!

Giggling at her own pep talk, and relieved that she felt so much better, Ellie ate a good breakfast, chatted happily to her mum, and then strode down the road to the bus stop, feeling strong and determined. Because of an abnormally bad traffic jam she was a few minutes late into work. Piano did her usual long-suffering, eye-rolling act. Ellie had to
stifle a laugh. It seemed so silly in her new, bouncy mood that she'd ever allowed Piano to get under her skin.

Almost immediately, even before Ellie had opened the lid of her laptop, Francesca sent her down to the basement with a parcel for Sophie to deal with.

“Can you tell her it's urgent?” said Francesca. “She'll need to get it biked round.”

“Okay. I'll tell her.” Ellie was pleased to be able to go down to the post room. Sophie had always been a great friend. What's more, she had a gorgeous boyfriend, Flynn, and Ellie always enjoyed hearing the gossip about their life together.

Sophie was busy sorting the mail, but she stopped what she was doing when Ellie arrived, and took the parcel.

“Hi!”

“Hi,” said Ellie, and she explained about the parcel.

“Hang on then, while I ring the courier.”

As soon as Sophie had arranged for the parcel to be collected, Ellie asked her how life was treating her and Flynn.

Sophie smiled. “Well, I sold another of my pots to a collector the other day. How about that?”

“Well done,” said Ellie. When Sophie wasn't being the post girl she made wonderful studio pottery and was just beginning to get known for her work.

“Thanks,” said Sophie. “Unfortunately, the day didn't end as well as it began.”

“Oh no, what happened?”

“Nothing to do with my pottery, thank goodness, but honestly…Friends!”

“What?” said Ellie.

“Oh it's just that my two best friends have taken it into their heads that Flynn and I should be thinking of getting married. I mean really!”

Ellie giggled. “Perhaps they want to be bridesmaids.”

Sophie stared at her. “Ellie! You are so right. We had a girls' night out, and they started counting up how long Flynn and I have been together. Then they started arguing about which of them would get to be chief bridesmaid. I mean…how stupid. We don't even
want
to get married yet…if ever.”

“So what happened?” said Ellie.

“Well, I got cross about them discussing me like that and told them that if Flynn and I
did
ever get married we wouldn't be asking them to be bridesmaids.”

“Oh dear,” said Ellie. “What did they say?”

Sophie propped her chin on her hands and sighed again. “I only meant that I wasn't into having bridesmaids and all that stuff, but they didn't take it like that. It stopped them arguing with each other, but they got into a huff with me instead.”

“I expect they'll soon forget about it,” said Ellie.

“Probably,” said Sophie. “But what a waste of a good night. It seems that sometimes it's so easy to fall out about the smallest things.”

“That's true,” said Ellie.

“So what about you and Hannah?” said Sophie. “You heard from her yet?”

Sophie was the one person at
Heart
who Ellie could really confide in. Ellie had told her all about her fight with Hannah, and Sophie had been very sympathetic. Ellie shook her head. “Still no text,” she said sadly.

Sophie gave her a hug. “Try not to fret about it,” she advised. “There's nothing you can do for now. And if she's a really good friend she'll realize that you couldn't do both things. You had to choose what was right for you. I'm sure that time will heal. In fact, I bet you as soon as Hannah arrives home she'll be on the phone, wanting to
tell you all about her holiday.”

“I hope so,” said Ellie.

Sophie gave her a sympathetic smile. “Don't worry about things you can't change,” she said. “Time enough to think about it when Hannah comes home.”

“You're totally right,” said Ellie. “In fact I told myself the very same thing this morning.” She took a deep breath. “Give me some more gossip to stop me brooding.”

“All right.” Sophie bit her lip, thinking hard. Then she grinned. “I'll tell you the latest that my friend Claire told me. You know she works in that big hotel?”

“Yes?” Ellie leaned against the wall and prepared to be entertained. Sophie had shared a couple of Claire's stories with her in the past, and they'd always been amusing.

“Well the lead singer from Steel Vortex is staying there at the moment. Have you heard of Steel Vortex?”

Ellie indulged in her own version of Piano's eye rolling, but she was only teasing. “Duh! Of course I have. You mean the heavy-metal band.”

Sophie nudged Ellie in protest. “Well I'm not much of a metal fan so
I
didn't realize who they were. I suppose you know the lead singer's name is Rocky Steel then? What sort of a name is that? Surely it must be made up?”

Ellie giggled. “I think it's like a stage name, Sophie – you are so out of touch!”

“Okay. It's a stage name,” said Sophie. “But Claire says he's as crazy as his name. When he got to the hotel he wanted to check in his pet pythons. Imagine! Apparently they're huge, and need heat lamps and all sorts of stuff. He appeared at the front desk with one around his
neck
!”

“It could have eaten someone's dog!” said Ellie.

“And Claire has a terrible fear of snakes,” said Sophie. “She had a total panic attack. The duty manager had to get her to breathe into a paper bag to calm down while he sorted it out.”

Ellie giggled.

“But how about this?” went on Sophie. “Rocky has his fifteen-year-old son staying with him as well as the snake. His name is Joe Steel.”

“I like that name better,” said Ellie.

“Apparently he's really cute too. Polite, good-looking, nothing like his dad, who looks as if he's been sleeping under a hedge for years.” Sophie grinned at Ellie. “You see, there's always someone worse off than you. What are a few problems between friends compared to being lumbered with a father called Rocky Steel?”

“You're right,” said Ellie. She gave Sophie a grateful smile. “Thanks for giving me a boost. I must get back upstairs now or I'll have to do the morning coffee run before I've even opened my laptop!”

“Piano will be rolling her eyes again,” said Sophie, who had experienced the treatment first hand in the past.

“Oh no!” said Ellie, in mock horror.

“Join me for lunch if you like,” said Sophie, picking up a bundle of post to deliver.

“Okay,” said Ellie. “See you later.”

Back in the editorial office, Ellie logged on and reluctantly got back to researching plaits for Piano. She couldn't
really
believe that Piano had made the job up, but Ellie would much rather have been doing her own work.

Readers aren't going to be interested in the history of plaits,
she thought.
They're just going to want to see some different styles, and instructions on how to do them
.

But, in spite of her opinion, Ellie did get quite interested as she carried on with the research. Soon she had a picture of a Chinese girl, a group of ballet dancers, an English teenager and a Native American woman, all sporting different styles of plait. She couldn't find much about the history of the hairstyle, but she did come across a picture
of a beautiful French plait and added that to the file, thinking that the Fashion Department might like it and come up with some tips on how to achieve the look. Then she emailed the lot to Piano, hoping that Angel would be satisfied.

By then, it was time to fetch the coffee, and after that she had to take Ferdinand out. But once he'd been exercised, she'd have an opportunity to try the possible interviewees she'd chosen last night. She couldn't spend too much time on them. She still had the long list of celebrities that Francesca wanted her to approach over the summer, and so far she had only done one interview on that list, with a highly successful but reclusive author. That had proved to be a huge scoop for the magazine, as the author had turned out to be not one person, but two – a mother and son writing team. Francesca and Angel had been very pleased, and so had Ellie, but that great success had rather set the standard. Ellie knew that Francesca wasn't expecting the same high standard every time, but she also knew that Piano was hoping she would fall flat on her face very soon. Ellie simply had to make the next interview a great one. If only she could find the right person – one who was prepared to talk.

In spite of her determination, by lunchtime Ellie had drawn a complete blank. One agent had been very tempted by the idea of her interviewing the daughter of a TV soap star, but had admitted that no way would his client allow it.

“You're a couple of years too soon,” he told her. “Come back when she's eighteen. Then the mother won't be able to stop her daughter from giving as many interviews as she wants. And believe me, she wants to!”

Ellie wondered if she ought to give in, and approach some over-eighteens, but her idea had been to find out what it was like for girls who were the same age as the readers of
Heart
. Feeling stuck, she went down for lunch with Sophie.

“I really don't want to talk to someone over eighteen, because anyone can do that,” she explained to Sophie. “It's only going to be special if they're younger.”

“So special you can't make it happen,” said Sophie, taking a bite out of her sandwich.

“I could try Joe Steel, I suppose,” Ellie said thoughtfully.

“That's a good idea,” said Sophie. “I bet his dad wouldn't mind. He seems to do almost anything for
publicity.”

Ellie shook her head. “You'd probably find he drew the line at putting his son in the limelight. Besides, he's a boy. I really want to interview a girl.”

“Oh.” There was a pause while they both ate companionably. “Why?”

Ellie looked up. “Why what?”

“Why do you want to interview a girl? Come on, Ellie.” Sophie was serious. “Why does it have to be a girl?”