“Yes!” said Ellie. “Where were you? I came down and you weren’t here.”
Sophie laughed. “I don’t live here,” she said. “I am allowed out occasionally you know! Actually I was taking a load of cardboard outside for recycling. And there was so much I had to use my trolley. Come on then. What did she say?”
Ellie told Sophie what Francesca had said, and Sophie looked very pleased. “Hang on then,” she said abandoning her trolley. “I’ll give Claire a ring.”
Ellie waited impatiently for Claire to answer. Then Sophie spoke for a few moments and put the phone down. “Claire’s busy with someone. She’ll call back when she has a minute.”
Ellie was crestfallen, but tried not to show it. “Thanks, Sophie. It’s really kind of you to do this.”
“Well I might only be the post girl, and not the editor,” she said. “But Heart is my magazine too, and you’re my friend. Why wouldn’t I want to help you get a scoop?”
Ellie hung around chatting for a while, but soon lunchtime was over, Claire hadn’t rung back, and she knew she really ought to be at her desk.
“I’ll ring you as soon as I hear anything,” said Sophie. “Don’t worry. Just hope for the best.”
“I will!” said Ellie.
Back upstairs, Piano had returned, clutching a collection of bags from several shops. She was showing Debbie a lovely silky top, but she shoved it back in the bag as Ellie came in. Be unfriendly then! thought Ellie. She knew better than to expect anything else from Piano. Still, she couldn’t squash the tinge of hurt that welled up as she passed.
For the first part of the afternoon, Ellie worked steadily through her list of pop stars, actresses and the like, trying to find the next person to interview. Most of the megastars were out of town for the summer, but one agent did promise to ring back about his client, a singer who’d won an MTV award last year and was making a new album.
Then it was time for the coffee run, and after that, she had to take Ferdinand for his walk. It was actually something of a relief to get out. She was finding it hard to sit still and wait for a call. Ellie did realize that Claire would be busy, and that maybe Rocky wouldn’t even be in the hotel for most of the day, but it was hard to remain patient. How could she bear it if she had to wait until tomorrow? She was trying not to hope too much, but now she’d got used to the idea of interviewing Joe Steel she really, really wanted to.
“Come on, Ferdi,” she said, when he’d stopped running about and had begun sniffing around his favourite trees. “Let’s go back if you’ve had enough exercise.”
She looked hard in Francesca’s direction as she returned Ferdinand to his basket in the Editor in Chief’s office, but Francesca was on the phone, with her back to the door. Ellie took off Ferdinand’s lead, and hung it up. Angel was sitting at her huge desk, looking as immaculate as a model on a shoot, as she always did. She glanced up as Ellie made for the door. “I hope you get some useful information tomorrow. Don’t forget to sort out what you want to ask beforehand. You can never be too well prepared.”
Ellie hesitated, but it was apparent that Angel didn’t want to have a conversation.
“Off you go then.”
Ellie went, being careful to close the door behind her, but her hand was shaking. Had it all come right, or was Angel referring to some job she’d lined up for Ellie that she knew nothing about yet? She wouldn’t put it past the Editor, but no way could she ask. Instead, she went straight to Francesca, but she didn’t need to say anything.
“It’s all set up,” said Francesca with a pleased smile. “Sophie rang up with the information just after you went out, and when I phoned I got through to Rocky himself. He thinks it’s a great idea. So, eleven o’clock at his hotel. You can use the library, which is just off the main public area. I’ve arranged for some drinks and nibbles to be there, and we’ll send you in a car. Well done. And perhaps you’d like to nip down to see Sophie and thank her and her friend too.”
“That’s brilliant!” said Ellie. “I’ll go and see her straight away!”
As she passed Piano’s desk, the older girl gave her a poisonous look. Once again, Ellie was on her way to getting a brilliant article for Heart, and Piano was left feeling jealous. Ellie knew it wasn’t charitable, but with the way Piano treated her, she just didn’t care. Instead she shot Piano a triumphant look as she strode confidently out of the room.
Down in the post room she gave Sophie a big hug. “Please thank Claire for me. I was afraid I wouldn’t hear until tomorrow and if that had been the case I’d have simply died!”
Sophie laughed. “Claire was run off her feet earlier, and Rocky was in his room, but he came down to speak to some journalists and she caught him then. Apparently he’s been hounded by the press outside the hotel today. They want to hear the latest on his divorce.”
“Oh dear,” said Ellie. “I didn’t realize he was getting divorced. Poor Joe.”
“Sad, isn’t it?” said Sophie. “But you know what some of the papers are like. They almost prefer celebrity divorces to celebrity weddings.”
“I suppose,” said Ellie. “Oh Sophie!” she said, unable to feel anything but excitement. “It’s been such an up and down day, but thanks to you, tomorrow is going to be brilliant!”
The next morning, Ellie could hardly bear to wait until eleven o’clock. She had decided to dress down a little for the interview. She didn’t have anything terribly grungy, but she did her best with a denim skirt and some heavily made-up eyes. Her mum, who didn’t usually approve of too much make-up, frowned but said nothing.
Ellie wished Hannah had been around. She’d have loved to ask her advice, and maybe borrow the scruffy old leather jacket Hannah had inherited when her older sister had gone to university. But Hannah was still on holiday, and still not communicating, so it was no good wishing for the impossible. Besides, Angel’s high expectations for the dress code of her staff meant that anything too grungy would almost certainly be vetoed. It didn’t matter how scruffy the guests chose to be, the staff of Heart should always be impeccably turned out. And anyway, if Claire was right, the son of Rocky Steel was probably totally unlike his spectacularly untidy father.
Ellie had done loads of background research for the interview. But what she hadn’t managed to find was a good photograph of Joe. In all the pictures he either had his back to the camera, or had dark glasses on, with his long hair falling over his face. It was impossible to make out what he really looked like.
She’d done the first coffee run and had taken Ferdinand out for a brief trot around the park. Now she was back sitting at her desk, waiting for the car to arrive to take her the short distance to the hotel. Would talking to him be just like chatting to the boys at school? she wondered. Or would he be totally rock and roll? And would he sound very American? From the research she’d done she knew that he was English, but had spent a lot of time in the USA, since his parents had gone to live there some years earlier.
When the main reception desk downstairs rang through to say that the car had arrived, Ellie jumped to her feet and grabbed her bag. She double-checked that she had her notebook and pen and made her way to the door.
“Good luck,” called Francesca, and Ellie turned to thank her before hurrying to the lift. In spite of being rather nervous, Ellie was confident that she could handle the whole thing without any problems. It would be up to her to put Joe at his ease, so she must be friendly but professional.
It didn’t take long to get to the hotel, which looked very grand. There was even a doorman. He opened the door for her, and smiled. Ellie didn’t think she looked lost, but he seemed to think she might be.
“Reception is straight through here,” he said cheerily. “They will help with whatever you need.”
“Thank you,” said Ellie.
The hotel lobby was enormous, and the thick carpet muffled every sound so effectively it made her want to whisper. She waited at the desk for a couple of minutes, while the receptionist attended to a large wo
man with several pieces of luggage. Once the woman had gone, with a young porter to help her with her luggage, the receptionist looked at his computer screen for a few seconds and then smiled at Ellie.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m from Heart magazine,” said Ellie, feeling rather important. “I’m here to do an interview with Joe Steel.”
The receptionist tapped a few computer keys. “And your name is…?”
“Ellie Ixos,” said Ellie.
“Ah yes. I have you here. We’re expecting you. You’ll be in the library…” He pointed to one side. “It’s not really a separate room, but it’s tucked away, and will suit you fine, I think. I’ll ring up and let them know you’re here.”
“Thank you.”
Ellie made her way to the book-lined corner that was the hotel library. It was perfect. There were a couple of comfortable chairs and a low table, piled with magazines. As she was deciding which chair to sit on, a waitress arrived with a tray full of drinks and tempting nibbles, which she set out on the table. Heart magazine, or at least Francesca, had thought of everything.
Ellie sat down and opened her notebook, but before she had time to read over the questions she proposed asking Joe, he arrived.
The tall, slim figure hesitated for only a second before striding into the library. He looked a couple of years older than Ellie, was wearing scruffy, low-slung jeans, and a rather crumpled T-shirt. In some respects he could have been any one of the many ordinary boys she passed in the street every day, but Ellie was sure she detected in him a confidence that set him apart. Not many teenage boys would be so self-assured in these surroundings, unless they were used to them. She quickly scribbled confident in her notebook before getting up to greet him.
Ellie didn’t usually approach boys she hadn’t met before with such ease, but she was in charge here, and she didn’t want to appear nervous. It was her interview, and whatever happened was up to her. So she crossed the floor quickly and held out her hand with a smile. “Hi! I’m Ellie Ixos.”
Joe looked at her hand and she withdrew it awkwardly. Maybe he was right. People of their age didn’t shake hands as a rule. That was something older people usually did.
“Hi.” Joe shook his long, dark brown fringe out of his eyes. He looked amused, and smiled slightly. Ellie’s heart did a little flip. She hadn’t thought that he was her type, but he was rather good-looking. There was definitely something about him.
“So…have a seat.” Ellie retreated to her chair and he collapsed nonchalantly into his, carelessly sprawling his long limbs.
“There are some weird book titles here,” he said before she could frame her first question. “I noticed one the other day called Avoiding Huge Ships. Who’s going to want to read that?” His transatlantic drawl made him even more appealing to Ellie.
She replied quickly. “Sailors, I suppose?” and almost immediately regretted her words. Judging by his expression he hadn’t meant it seriously. But it seemed he was willing to try conversation again.
“All we can see from our hotel suite is the garden,” he volunteered in a disgusted voice. “I was hoping for a view of that huge wheel you have by the river, or maybe the Tower of London. Who wants to see a garden in London? And they charge extra for that. It’s crazy!”
“Oh.” Ellie was rather thrown, but tried to be helpful. “Well,” she considered. “I suppose whoever booked the suite could have asked if there was a good view.”
“Coulda,” he agreed. “Shoulda…” He shrugged. “But didn’t.” He smiled at her, and Ellie found herself smiling back.
Joe leaned back in his chair and looked at the nibbles on the side table. “Am I allowed some of those?”
“Of course!” Ellie was surprised that he had even asked, though Claire had said he was polite. And it had been polite of him to ask, but now, after reaching for the nuts he was tossing them haphazardly into his mouth, and paying no attention when several missed and rolled onto the floor. Typical boy, thought Ellie.
“Didn’t have time for breakfast,” he offered, although she hadn’t asked why he seemed so hungry.
“So, Joe…”
He looked at her and she tried to arrange her face into one of professional interest, though what she really wanted to do was grin at him. “What’s it like having Rocky Steel for a dad?”
“Well…” Joe began to look a bit shifty. “It’s all right, I suppose. He’s quite kind…and he can be really generous. He buys us…me…stuff when we’re on tour.”
“What sort of stuff?”
Joe shrugged. “Just…stuff. You know…games…books…to keep us occupied.”
“Do you get to go to all his gigs?”
Joe shrugged, and another couple of nuts rolled off his lap and onto the floor. “Some of them.”
“That must be very exciting. Because he does do outrageous things onstage, doesn’t he?”
Joe looked rather embarrassed. Ellie supposed it could be embarrassing having a father who in her opinion wore ridiculous clothes, and rode his motorbike onstage, but that’s what the readers would want to know. Did Joe have ambitions to be as crazy as his father, or not? It was difficult to tell much from the boy sitting opposite her. And now he didn’t seem quite as confident as she had at first thought.
“Didn’t your dad fall off the stage on his motorbike one night?”
“Did he?” Joe looked confused, but he rapidly recovered himself. “Oh yeah, p’raps he did. I guess. Last year some time, wasn’t it?”
“You’d forgotten?” Ellie was astonished. “But I’m sure I read somewhere that his leg was in plaster for ages and the band were getting worried that it might not mend properly.”
“Oh? Right. I mean yeah. That’s it. It was worrying at the time. Can I have some of that soda?”
Before she could answer, or pour it for him, Joe had leaped up and slopped some into a glass. It foamed up and overflowed into the tray the glasses were on.
“Oops.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Ellie got up too and helped him mop up the spill with a couple of napkins. Their hands touched and they both pulled away. “So do you mind having a dad who does things like that?”
Joe looked at her, and Ellie looked earnestly back at him, with her most empathetic interviewer expression this time securely in place. To her disappointment, instead of opening up, he turned away and swigged the drink in one. Then he went over to one of the bookshelves and stared at the books, saying nothing.
Ellie was worried. This wasn’t going at all well. She couldn’t seem to find anything that would make him open up. The trouble was, every time she looked at him she couldn’t help thinking how attractive he was. Did that get in the way of her being a professional interviewer? Maybe she was putting him off because he thought she was flirting with him, but she really, truly wasn’t.
She wished Francesca was there. Francesca would have known how to gain Joe’s trust and get him to start talking. She wanted the real deal on Joe’s life, not this surface stuff where he said nothing of any consequence. But how could she get through to him? Should she say she was sorry to hear about his parents’ divorce? Would that help, or make things worse? The questions flew through her mind, but she didn’t have any answers. She simply didn’t have enough experience of interviews to know if she was playing this right or making some silly mistake. Ellie wondered if she ought to make an excuse and go, but she didn’t want to admit defeat.
She told herself that she ought to give it another try. He hadn’t had any crisps yet, and he’d been enthusiastic about the snacks. In fact that was almost all he had been enthusiastic about, apart from maybe the books. Perhaps she could lure him back to the chair with crisps. Or should she take them to him and share the book titles with him for a while? Would that help? Did he really like books? Or was he just bored with the interview and her?
Ellie picked up the dish of crisps. She had to do something. She could hardly build an article around Joe having a possible interest in books! Fle
etingly, she wondered if she ought to try matching his silence. She’d heard that loads of people got unnerved by silences, and had to fill them. But she rejected that idea. It would be unnerving for her, but might not be for him. That would never do!
She looked at the bowl of crisps in her hand. She wouldn’t take them over to the window. She didn’t feel right conducting an interview standing up. If he wanted more to eat he’d have to come back and sit down. Then she’d give it one last go. But as she cleared her throat to speak, Joe Steel spun round and glared at her.
“It’s no good!” he said angrily. “I can’t do this.”
Ellie looked at Joe in horror. “What do you mean?” It was one thing for her to consider pulling out of the interview, but quite another if he thought she wasn’t worth talking to.
“Yeah, well. It’s not easy pretending to be someone else.”
Ellie stared at the frowning boy in front of her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said at last. “Do you mean you’re trying to behave like your father but don’t really want to? Actually, I was going to ask if you felt very different from your dad.”
Now it was his turn to stare at her. “No!” he said, taking a handful of the crisps she was holding and throwing himself back into his chair. “No way!”
Ellie sat down and waited until he’d chomped the crisps and brushed the worst of the crumbs from his T-shirt. “Well what do you mean?”
Joe Steel was having difficulty meeting Ellie’s eyes. “I feel kinda bad.”
“You don’t need to feel bad,” said Ellie, sympathetically. “It can’t be easy.”
He looked at her now, and the smile was back, reaching his eyes as well as his mouth. “You’re really great, you know that? I thought you’d be some old lady journalist, but you’re my sort of age. That was a real shock. That’s why I can’t do this. It’s not fair.”
Ellie couldn’t help smiling back at him, but she was even more confused than before. “I still don’t understand what the problem is,” she said. “All I wanted to do was ask you a few questions about what life is like, spending the summer touring around with your dad.”
Best Friends Rock! Page 4