A Dream Come True (9 page)

“Here you are,” said Piano, handing Ellie the slip she had made such a show of picking out. “The prize is on my desk. Put it in a jiffy bag and try to address it properly. Use a
Heart
address label. Don't just scrawl on the bag. I wouldn't put that sort of thing past you.”

The catty remark was all the more hurtful for being devastatingly accurate. Ellie had forgotten the magazine had its own printed labels. She blushed and tried to hide her confusion by scurrying off to fetch the prize. It was the band's first CD, one of their posters and a smaller, autographed photograph of them all.

When she came to pack the bag, Ellie noticed that Piano hadn't written on the compliment slip she was sending with the prize. While Piano wasn't looking, Ellie scribbled a note to the winner, feeling very daring.
Well done!
she wrote.
I hope you enjoy your prize. Watch out for the next competition. Just because you've won once, doesn't mean you can't win again!

She was very tempted to add
From Ellie Ixos,
but thought that was probably going too far.

Happy with her small triumph over the others, Ellie packed up the prize, and took the parcel down to Sophie. It was nearly lunchtime, so she managed to have quite a long time away from the editorial office.

“Francesca loved your dressed-up animals – she thought it was a great idea,” she told Sophie with a grin. “She's going to pitch it to Angel. Fashion shoot and competition.”

“I didn't think you'd really mention it!” Sophie sounded amused. “I don't know. Here we are with global warming and loads of animals almost extinct, and all our magazine can do is write articles about fancy-dress clothes for pets!”

“I wonder who
will
write the article,” said Ellie.

“Francesca maybe?” suggested Sophie. “If she has time to do it. Or Piano. I bet she's good at silly and pointless articles.”

“
I
could write a good article about it,” said Ellie feeling wistful. “I'd have a picture of Ferdinand dressed as a pixie next to one of those awful charity photographs of neglected animals.” She thought for a moment. “In my article I'd be asking why animal lovers are spending a fortune on stuff like that when they could be helping animals that really need it.”

Sophie looked at Ellie. “You've got the sort of enquiring mind that will take you places,” she said.

Ellie went pink with pleasure. “You think so?”

“Of course. You're full of ideas about everything that comes up. Let's face it, almost every subject under the sun has been written about at some time. Journalism is all about finding different angles to engage a reader's interest.”

Ellie thought of her dad's words in the notebook. “One day,” she said firmly. “Like you and your pots, Sophie.” She tidied away the remains of her lunch and got up. “Well, I'd better go and see what the dragons have got for me to do this afternoon. See you later!”

Upstairs, everything was calm. Piano had a couple of Ferdinand's costumes on her desk and was making a start on an article. Carlotta was dealing with what sounded like a rather difficult person on the telephone and Francesca emerged from Angel's office looking the happiest she'd been all day.

“You said you'd done your article on the Lowthers, didn't you?”

Ellie nodded. “It's on the system in my folder,” she said.

“I'll look at it now,” said Francesca. “I've got a few minutes. Make sure you don't slope off anywhere until I've read it. Don't worry,” she said, seeing the apprehensive expression on Ellie's face. “Piano can always rewrite the article if yours isn't quite up to our standard.”

That wasn't what Ellie wanted to hear, but at least Francesca was going to read it. She might have insisted that Ellie and Piano wrote it together, without even giving her a chance to do it on her own.

While she waited for the verdict, Ellie unpacked a box of next season's T-shirts that had been sent up by the Fashion Department. They were going to be in a chain of high-street stores, and
Heart
would be reviewing them. Piano drifted past and touched one of them with an immaculately polished nail.

“I wouldn't wear any of those, even if you
paid
me,” she said grandly. “But I suppose the designer took Angel out for lunch.” She sighed theatrically and glanced at Ellie.

Ellie thought about how useful a favourable review would be to the designer and the high-street stores. Maybe designers
did
buy Angel lunch from time to time, but Ellie couldn't imagine her being swayed by a meal. For the first time she realized how influential magazines could be. Ellie had never considered that she might be influenced by
Heart
, but she realized that every month she did take notice of articles and photographs, and she would quite often look out for something she'd seen in it. Magazines like
Heart
must be very important to shops and fashion designers. No wonder they tried hard to get into the pages as often as possible.

Ellie had never fancied being a model, but it was exciting to see the new ranges before they even went into the shops. She must remember to ask Francesca about borrowing things to wear. She'd never get a straight answer from Piano or Carlotta.

She was just clearing away the vast amount of tissue that had been used in the T-shirt packaging when Francesca appeared with an unreadable expression on her face. “Leave that,” she said. “I want you at my desk. Come on. Hurry up!”

“How on earth did you think this would do?” Francesca was looking more annoyed than Ellie had ever seen her before. “I thought you said you'd read our magazine?”

“Of course I have!”

“Well, if you had you'd know that our readers love Pop 'n' Lolly Lowther. The last thing they want to read is subtle comments that hint at how big-headed Pop is without actually saying it.”

“What? I didn't write anything like that!”

Francesca threw a couple of pieces of paper onto her desk. One slid onto the floor and Ellie bent to pick it up. It was a printout of her article, with comments all over it in red pen. “I think you'll find you did,” she said coldly. “Trying to live up to your father's reputation by being clever isn't going to take you far. I wanted a simple article about how thrilled you were to meet the Lowthers and instead, amongst the good stuff, you've given me your opinion on why they are splitting up, and all of it, so far as I can see, is totally fabricated.” She glared at Ellie. “As if I didn't have enough to do without nurse-maiding a child who thinks she's an investigative reporter!”

Ellie scanned the page hastily. She was almost in tears. “But this isn't what I wrote! I
loved
Pop,
and
Lolly. I did ask why Lolly wanted to become a student, but—”

Francesca wasn't interested in Ellie's protests. “Unfortunately, as we have enough of a crisis on our hands with losing Joe's shoot, we're going to have to use this in some way. If Piano wasn't still working on the pet article I'd hand it straight to her and send you home, but I can't do that. I don't want Carlotta to handle it either. In spite of what she thinks, editing isn't her strong point.”

Francesca was looking through Ellie as she reckoned up her options. Then she focused on her again. “The stupid thing is that the actual writing shows a lot of promise.” The way Francesca spoke it didn't exactly sound like a compliment, more a comment made in total frustration, but Ellie felt a small leap of comfort at her words.

Francesca pushed the other sheet of paper in Ellie's direction. “So anyway. I've marked up the article. Go and start putting things right. As soon as Piano has finished she can take over and make sure it's fit to be seen.”

A commotion at the front desk made them both turn round. A man with a trolley was backing in through the door. Carlotta was remonstrating with him, but he waved a bit of paper at her.

“You wanted this water!” he shouted before swerving to get past her. “It's your usual order.”

“No, we didn't,” yelled Piano, joining in. “We cancelled because you never deliver on time.”

“Oh for goodness' sake,” muttered Francesca. “Do I have to do everything myself?” She left Ellie and strode angrily towards the man with the trolley.

Ellie was aware of the commotion, but she didn't turn to look – she was desperate to see what had gone wrong with her article. How on earth could Francesca have misread it so badly? The answer jumped out at her as soon as she began to read the printout more carefully.

“Someone has altered it!”

The first sentence was in her own words, but as Ellie scanned down the page she could see that a few references to the Lowthers had been changed, so the tone of the article was subtly different from the way she had written it. It was amazing what damage a few changed words could do. Pop was
cold and distant
to her sister, which wasn't true at all. In the article, Ellie had referred with amusement to arguments the twins had told her they'd had while at school, but someone had taken out the added information that, although Pop laughingly admitted she could be argumentative, both girls had told Ellie that they never fell out for long. The bit Ellie had put in about them obviously being very fond of each other, and being totally on each other's wavelength, had vanished.

When it came to Lolly, Ellie almost burst into tears. She had been such a warm, lovely person, and to Ellie it had seemed obvious that she had a real vocation for medicine, but now the article suggested that she was going to university almost to spite her twin sister. Ellie felt like sobbing. She put her head in her hands and stared at the red pen marks scribbled over the words some unknown person had inserted instead of hers. Then she looked up through her fingers at the continuing argument at the door. Francesca was dealing with the situation in her usual efficient way, and Carlotta was taking a call.

It seemed wrong that office life was carrying on while she was so devastated, but she had to pull herself together. The article could be salvaged, and she would be sure to print it out so it couldn't get sabotaged again – and it would be plain to Francesca that Ellie
could
deliver the sort of writing that was wanted. She'd be out of here at the end of the week and whoever had been horrible enough to alter her article wasn't worth worrying about. Even so, she couldn't help wondering who it had been.

Ellie decided that she wouldn't be surprised if it was Piano's idea of a joke. She pretended she was so superior, but Ellie was sure she'd been just as jealous as Carlotta about the interview with the Lowthers. Then another thought struck Ellie. Francesca had said she'd get Piano to tidy the article up once Ellie had done her best with it. Maybe Piano hadn't meant the alterations as a joke at all. Maybe she'd done it so she could write it instead of Ellie! If there was one thing Ellie knew about journalism it was that the more high-profile articles you got published, the better your chances of making a name for yourself. Maybe Piano had decided it would be a waste for a mere student to get her name on the piece, and that she could make better use of the prestige.

That thought made Ellie get on with restoring her article as quickly as she could. She was determined to make it
perfect,
so that Piano wouldn't have the slightest excuse to take it over. She didn't go down to have a cup of tea with Sophie that afternoon. She didn't have time. She needed to stay where she was and get it sorted. As soon as she had finished, she read the piece over one last time and then printed it out. She took it over to Francesca, who was back at her desk again.

Ellie waited anxiously while Francesca quickly read what she had written. “Much better,” said Francesca, looking pleased. “When you're not sniping, you can write really well.” Ellie was tempted to protest her innocence again, but decided against it. The most important thing was that the Deputy Editor liked her work. Hopefully Angel would too, and the article would appear. It was far more exciting thinking of that, rather than brooding on someone's spitefulness.

Her mum was still out when Ellie got in after work. She made herself a drink and took it up to her bedroom. Hannah was online, so she settled down for a good long chat.

Hi! Good day?

Brilliant!
replied Hannah.
More chicks hatched. They're so sweet. How was your day?

Interesting!
wrote Ellie.
Someone ruined my article.

No way!!!! Tell all.

Ellie's fingers flew over her keyboard. She told Hannah what had happened, who she suspected, and how hard she had worked to get it right again.

Good for you
, Hannah wrote approvingly.
Anything else exciting?

Just some water that turned up after it had been cancelled
.