Authors: Cindy Jefferies
About this book
For wannabe journalist, Ellie, getting to do work experience at her favourite teen magazine,
Heart
, is fantastic. She's going to be part of the glamorous world of celebrity pages, fashion shoots and gossip columns. But Ellie soon finds out that she's got a jealous rival who's determined to turn her dream job into a nightmareâ¦
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For Megan and Anne, two editors to
die
for
“You can hang your coat through here.” The girl with the perfectly groomed, long blonde hair held the door open for Ellie, swaying slightly on her vertiginously high heels. Her mouth smiled, but she wasn't actually looking at Ellie, and her highly glossed lips seemed more designed for pouting than for smiling. In fact the smile faded almost instantly, and was replaced by a look of irritation that made it obvious how much of a nuisance Ellie was, just by being there.
But Ellie Ixos wasn't going to allow herself to be intimidated. She might only be here at the Editorial Department at
Heart
magazine for two weeks' work experience, but for her it was a huge deal to have got this placement. For a start, she'd had to overcome her mum's doubts about even considering it.
“If you're interested in fashion, why not approach one of the shops?” her mum had said. “A couple of weeks selling clothes would be fun, and you'd probably get a discount on anything you wanted to buy.”
Ellie felt cross. She knew that Mum
hated
the idea of Ellie becoming a journalist, as her father had been. “But I don't want to
sell
clothes,” she'd said. “I want to
write
about them â and other things too.” She saw the expression on her mum's face and struggled to be diplomatic. “It's not
dangerous
,” she said. “
Heart
is a teen magazine! I've even looked up the bus times. I only have to catch two. Hannah has to get the train and walk loads to get to the city farm where she's working. I'll be fine. Honestly. Besides” â Ellie tried to sound apologetic, but her voice was firm â “everyone in the class has to file a report about their work experience, and the best will go up on the school website.
I
want to be up there, where the action is.”
A shadow passed across Georgia Ixos's face, and Ellie wished she hadn't mentioned being where the action was.
Then her mum's expression softened and she sighed. “You've got your dad's determination. I'm sure he'd have said to go ahead, so I shouldn't try to stop you, should I?”
Ellie gave her mum a hug, which said sorry as well as thank you. “So you'll ask Uncle Patrick?”
Ellie's dad had been a foreign correspondent. He had lost his life reporting from a war zone shortly before Ellie was born, so she could understand why her mum was wary of her daughter wanting to become a journalist too. But Uncle Patrick was her dad's older brother, and he was on the board of
Heart.
The magazine was Ellie's favourite, and exactly the sort she dreamed of working for.
Mum hugged her back. “
You
ask Uncle Patrick. You can't be a journalist if you're scared of asking favours!”
It
had
been a bit scary, phoning Uncle Patrick. Ellie couldn't remember ever meeting him. Apparently, although he'd been very helpful with money when her dad had been killed, Uncle Patrick had been angry at his brother's death and seemed to blame everyone, including Georgia, for what happened. Georgia felt he had been totally unreasonable. As a result they'd fallen out and hadn't met for years.
“As if I could have stopped your dad,” Georgia told Ellie one day when she was reminiscing about the past. “Even with me being pregnant he still had to go. He had a burning desire to tell the truth about bad situations. He said he owed it to all the people being killed out there.” Georgia sighed and put her arm round her daughter. “He'd have loved you so much,” she said sadly. “I do wish he'd been able to see you, at least once, but your father was just as stubborn as you are sometimes. Anyway,” she added briskly, “no point dwelling on it now. It was a long time ago.”
Ellie knew that she had a stubborn streak, and it was rather nice to feel she had something in her of the dad she'd never met. Maybe her interest in writing was inherited from him too? There was no danger, though, that Ellie would follow him into a war zone. Fashion, boy bands and animal welfare were more her kind of thing at the moment. She had
always
wanted to be a journalist, and she simply loved the glossy magazines that mixed fashion and celebrity gossip with articles on more important issues. Especially
Heart
, because they always seemed to interview the people Ellie liked best.
Actually, speaking to Uncle Patrick had been fine. Ellie had thought up all sorts of reasons to persuade him to let her do her work experience at his magazine, but she hadn't needed any of them.
“Of course you can,” he'd said straight away. “I'll let them know when to expect you. Maybe I'll come along and take you out to lunch one day if I can schedule it in.” He'd paused, and then Ellie had heard him laugh. “I can't believe you're all grown up. I met you once, but you were a tiny baby.”
“Well!” Georgia had said when Ellie told her. “I suppose he did meet you, but he didn't take a lot of interest. I think he was scared of babies, and you were only a few weeks old.” She'd given her daughter a smile. “Maybe he's ready to be friends now.”
But all that had happened weeks ago. Since then, Ellie had been waiting impatiently for her first day at the magazine to arrive. Now, at last, it had and she couldn't help feeling rather intimidated. It would have been different if she'd known Uncle Patrick well â he might have offered to meet her and show her round â but she was on her own as she got off the bus and approached the place where she was going to work for the next two weeks.
Ellie was bright, strong-willed and confident, but she was undeniably awed by the huge, steel-and-glass office building that housed
Heart, Soul
â
Heart
's sister magazine â and a dozen other magazines that were owned by the same company. She needed to take a deep breath to steady her nerves before approaching the reception desk in the main lobby. After that, waiting for someone to come down from
Heart
and take her up to the editorial office was just as nerve-wracking. The busy lobby seemed full of glamorous people, and when a tall, beautiful, blonde girl arrived to guide her to the lifts, Ellie's heart quivered.
“Hi,” said the girl, neglecting to tell Ellie her name. “You're the work experience girl, aren't you?” The expression on the blonde girl's face made it clear that she didn't feel enthusiastic about having to look after a student. But in the lift, while the girl rudely ignored her, Ellie had time to gather herself. She was determined to enjoy her placement, so by the time they left the lift she had told herself she was feeling in control and not a bit scared.
Even so, here she was, fumbling with a mixture of nerves and excitement to put her very ordinary coat on the swanky, velvet-covered hanger that had been handed to her. The hanger was emblazoned with the name of a major fashion designer, and somehow it made her coat look decidedly shabby. The blonde girl rolled her eyes skywards. Ellie's coat was dangling crookedly, and the girl's expression made it clear that such slovenliness was not going to be acceptable. Ellie hurriedly adjusted her coat to make it look neater. The other coats and jackets on the rail managed to look intimidating, just by hanging there so perfectly, and the bored expression on the girl's beautifully made-up face didn't help, but Ellie refused to feel daunted. She was here, and it was still a dream come true!
Ellie had taken loads of care with her clothes and make-up. She had discussed it endlessly with Hannah, her best friend at school, and hoped she'd got it about right.
“You want to look good, but you also want to be taken seriously as a wannabe journalist, don't you?” Hannah had said.
So, rather than a minidress, she'd chosen her favourite top and trousers and her cool, new boots that she utterly loved. She reckoned she'd got her look just about rightâ¦fashionable, but professional too. Her mum didn't let her wear too much make-up anyway, but today they were in agreement. There was no point in Ellie trying to look twenty, when the staff would all know she was fourteen and still at school. Even so, as soon as she'd left the house, Ellie put another layer of mascara on, just to be sure.
Naturally, she'd got this month's copy of
Heart
in her bag, and something her mum had given her just before she'd left to catch the bus.
“Here you are.” Georgia had thrust an old-fashioned-looking black notebook into her daughter's hands. “It was your father's. He bought it before his last trip and then forgot to take it with him.”
“Thanks, Mum.” Ellie had been touched, but the notebook wasn't exactly the sort of thing she expected journalists at
Heart
would use. She was thrilled to have something of her dad's, but it was so old-fashioned it would be embarrassing if anyone at
Heart
saw it. Ellie had stuffed it into her bag, and run down the road just in time to catch the bus.
Now she hurried again, so as not to keep the blonde girl waiting. She followed her through the lobby and towards the office. Ellie had just caught a tantalizing glimpse of workstations, expensive-looking chairs and an expanse of white carpet when the girl came to such a sudden halt that Ellie almost bumped into her.
“Didn't they tell you to bring a pair of office shoes?”
Ellie looked down at her feet. For a moment she had no idea what the girl meant: then a sudden image entered her head. It was of herself, walking along that white carpet in her new boots, dark from the rain and grubby from the pavement. She would leave marks everywhere! She found herself blushing with embarrassment. “Uncle Patrick didn't say anything about shoes,” she said, annoyed with herself for sounding so pathetic.
The girl tossed her long blonde hair in annoyance and muttered “Honestly!” just loud enough for Ellie to hear. “Come on then.” She pushed past Ellie with a sigh and went back into the lobby. For an awful moment Ellie thought she was going to be thrown out, but the girl was opening a cupboard to reveal a jumbled collection of high-heeled shoes. “What size are you?”