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  “Have you tried his publisher?” asked Sophie. “I bet they have loads of stuff they could email you.”

  Ellie stared at her. “Sophie, you’re a genius. Why on earth didn’t I think of that? I could use them to get in touch with him for an interview too!”

  Sophie laughed. “Probably. But I’m not a genius. On the other hand…” She beamed from ear to ear. “I think I may have sold a pot.”

  Ellie’s eyes widened in excitement. Sophie was a struggling studio potter. As well as working in the post room, she had been trying for some time to get her work noticed by collectors. “Really?” said Ellie. “That’s amazing news. Well done!”

  Sophie bit her lip. “Don’t get too excited. It’s not totally certain yet, but I’m hopeful. Anyway, you must go. You don’t want Angel on the warpath.”

  “True,” said Ellie, “I’ll come and have lunch with you if that’s okay. You can tell me all about it then.”

  “Okay. See you later.”

  Ellie made her way back upstairs and out onto the street. Coffee! Coffee! where she had to collect the coffees was only a few metres away. Luckily there wasn’t much of a queue, so Ellie was able to get back to the office in good time. She handed Francesca her drink, and went to put one on Piano’s desk.

  “What’s that?” said Piano, pointing one emerald green, painted nail at the carton.

  Ellie looked at it with puzzlement. “What do you mean? It’s your coffee of course.”

  Piano sighed theatrically. “And no doubt it’s full of dairy produce.”

  For a moment Ellie wasn’t sure what Piano meant. Then she realized. “Milk, yes. It’s a skinny latte, like you always have.”

  Piano sighed again, and shook her head. “I haven’t had a latte for ages. Not in the morning, anyway.” She counted off her requirements on her fingers. “In the morning I have a double espresso, and in the afternoon I have a single espresso, followed by a skinny latte at three o’clock.”

  Ellie glared at her. “You could have told me. Or you could have emailed me what you wanted if you didn’t actually choose to speak to me. I’m not psychic you know! But, as you didn’t do that you have a skinny latte, with lots of dairy produce. Tough luck!” She stomped off to Angel’s office feeling thoroughly annoyed with herself for letting Piano get to her. Every time, she planned to rise above it, and every time Piano somehow got under her skin.

  She knocked at Angel’s door and sidled in, carefully carrying the coffee upright. It had a lid on it so it shouldn’t spill, but she really didn’t want Angel snapping at her after her run-in with Piano.

  Angel looked up from her desk and appraised Ellie for a few moments without speaking. It was totally unnerving when the Editor did this. Ellie was always worried that her make-up might be smudged, or her clothes unacceptably creased, but so far she hadn’t been told off for any mistake in the unofficial and unspoken Heart office dress code.

  Angel motioned for Ellie to put the coffee on her desk and turned her gaze back to the two handbags in front of her. One was a classic shape in black, with a gold clasp, while the other was a strikingly boxy design in brick-red leather. There were more bags on the glass table by the long white sofa. It looked like Heart would soon be doing a feature on bags. Ellie wanted to say that she loved the red one, but wasn’t confident that her opinion would be gratefully received. Instead, she turned to go.

  “Thanks, Ellie. It’s nice to have you back.”

  Ellie turned and said, “Thank you!” But Angel was contemplating the bags again, and it was as if she had never spoken. Even so, she must be in favour if Angel thought it was nice to have her back! Now, all she had to do was track down Charlie Daniels, and conduct a brilliant interview. Then she’d really be flavour of the month.

  Ellie had a quick look on her laptop at the file of articles planned for next month’s issue of the magazine so far. As she had suspected, the main fashion feature was to be on bags of all sorts and sizes. There was also an article on a film star. She skimmed it, and wondered who had written it. It wasn’t an interview, the film star was American, and hadn’t been in England for ages. The article hadn’t been the result of a phone call either, which was sometimes the way Heart journalists spoke to celebrities. Ellie decided that it must have been put together using websites and blogs. She hoped she wouldn’t have to do that with Charlie Daniels. If she did, it would be a very thin article indeed, and hardly worth printing. But then, if she was having problems finding out much about him, other journalists must be as well. She put her chin in her hands and leaned on her desk. Maybe there wasn’t much written about him because it was just too much bother for most journalists to winkle out the facts, but…she had the time to have a go.

  Ellie’s heart started to tick a little harder. If only she could get hold of Charlie Daniels. With the films being such a huge hit lots of magazines might suddenly decide he was a hot topic. How cool would it be if she was the first to write an article about him? There was plenty from the newspapers after the opening of the first film in the trilogy. Some people claimed that he had attended the premiere, but with no pictures to prove it, maybe he hadn’t. Ellie decided to check his website again, to make sure that she hadn’t missed anything, and then to try his publisher, as Sophie had suggested. She could also try emailing his agent, if she could track down who it was. Surely he must have one? Ellie Ixos thought of her father’s phrase You can do this! Like him, she didn’t intend to give up easily.

  Ellie trawled through the website again, and found absolutely no way of contacting him direct. Lots of authors had a “contact me” bit on their websites. Ellie had used them herself occasionally, when she had read and enjoyed a particular book and wanted to tell the author how much she’d loved it. Surprisingly often the authors would reply, but she guessed that Charlie Daniels wasn’t the sort of author who thought it important to keep in touch with his readers.

  She went to the publisher’s website, and onto a page that was devoted to the Fanghurst Trilogy. There was a competition to win a beautiful silver chain, which, in the book, was worn by a particularly scary time-travelling character. It would make a lovely necklace for any normal human being. Ellie was pleased she’d looked at the site. I’ll go in for the competition, she thought. I might even win! But I’ll have to wait until I get home. There are a couple of really difficult questions and I need to find the answers in the first book…if only I can find the reference without having to read the whole story again.

  She didn’t actually consider that too much of a hardship. It would be fun reading the book again. But then, all at once, Ellie felt as if she was being deflected from her real purpose, to interview the author himself. The whole website page had been designed to sell books, without giving away any snippets of author information. Once again, there was no way of contacting the author, but there was a general phone number and email address for the publisher. She wondered about phoning, but felt a bit shy. In the end, without a lot of hope she sent a brief message, saying who she was, which magazine she worked for, and how much she would love to interview Charlie Daniels. She made a lot of the fact that she was a very young, wannabe journalist, who totally loved his books – just in case that helped. Then, after a lot of effort, trawling through a load of online newspaper articles that referred to him in some way, she finally managed to find out which literary agency Charlie Daniels was with. It was a big firm, with lots of agents, and it took a while to track down which one was his. Once again she sent an email, and hoped for the best.

  Ellie sat back in her chair and let out a sigh. She hadn’t realized how hard she’d been concentrating. She felt as if she’d been staring at the screen for days.

  “You haven’t gone for any lunch yet, have you, Ellie?” said Francesca. “Why don’t you go now? You look as if you need to get away from that screen for a while.”

  “Okay, thanks,” said Ellie. “I think I will.”

  Francesca was right. Ellie did need a break. She grabbed her bag and went do
wn to see Sophie, as she had promised.

  “I thought you weren’t coming!” said Sophie as soon as she appeared. “Flynn’s been and gone again, but he said he’d try to drop by for a coffee later. There was a networking problem up in the Art Department, but it shouldn’t take long.”

  Ellie pulled out a stool and sat at the old, wooden table that Sophie used to sort mail on. Sophie had been franking some mail to go out, but it was pushed to one side at the moment.

  “So tell me all your news,” Ellie called to Sophie, who had gone into the back room to put the kettle on. “What’s this about the pot?”

  “Well!” Sophie reappeared with a smile on her face. “Like I said, it’s not confirmed yet, but a man phoned me up the other day and said he was interested in my pots. He’d seen them in the little gallery near where I live, and had picked up one of my cards. He was particularly interested in my glazes, you know, the colours I use, because I mix them myself.”

  “That’s great!” said Ellie, feeling very pleased for her friend. “You’re on your way.”

  Sophie bit her lip. “It is great,” she said. “Or at least it will be if he really does buy one.” She paused, and looked at Ellie. Her eyes were shining, and there was an undercurrent of nervous excitement in her voice. “Especially,” she went on, “as I thought I recognized his name, he’s called Mark Kettle. When I looked him up on the internet I discovered that he’s a big name in the ceramics community as an avid collector of studio pottery.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And he has a load of workshops he rents to craftspeople, next to his museum, with a restaurant attached. He’s a celebrated patron of the arts, Ellie…but…”

  “What?” Ellie was puzzled. “Aren’t you thrilled?”

  “I just wish now that I hadn’t told Flynn. He’s gone totally over the top about it. He thinks I’m going to be famous overnight, a recognized studio potter who every gallery will want to collect. But it’s not like that! I’m only just starting out. I’m thrilled that Mark Kettle has noticed me. It’s fantastic, but if he is genuinely interested he’ll want to see how I develop over the years. He’s not going to rush off and announce to everyone in the art world that he’s discovered a genius.”

  Ellie could see what Sophie meant. “Well, Flynn will get over it,” she said, giving Sophie a hug. “He’s proud of you, that’s all.”

  “I know,” said Sophie with a crooked smile. “I just wish he’d rein back his enthusiasm a bit. It’s all totally impossible to live up to.” Her phone buzzed and she looked at the screen. “He’s on his way down. Now please, Ellie, try not to encourage him.”

  Before Ellie could reply, Flynn appeared at the door with a beaming smile across his face. “Ellie! How are you? Have you heard Sophie’s news?”

  Ellie grinned back at him. “Yes I have. And I’m very well thank you, and glad to be back at Heart.”

  “Good. So, aren’t you impressed? I am.”

  “Of course I am. It’s great news!” said Ellie, trying to walk the narrow line between sounding too enthusiastic, which would annoy Sophie, and sounding totally disinterested, which would probably upset Flynn. “Guess what!” she added, trying to steer the subject away from Sophie and her pots. “I’m trying to get an interview with Charlie Daniels.” But Flynn couldn’t be deflected. He was opening his laptop as Ellie spoke, and didn’t seem to have heard her at all.

  “I bookmarked Mark Kettle’s website,” he said. “You won’t believe how influential he is!” He put the laptop on the table, and opened it up. “He’s an entrepreneur,” he told Ellie. “And a patron of the arts. Apparently he’s seen everywhere with famous people. He’s seriously good news. Just imagine. Sophie could end up with her work in his collection of modern European studio pottery. How about that?”

  Before Ellie could frame a sensible answer, Flynn clicked on another page in the website.

  “You can read about him here.”

  Ellie was actually quite interested in finding out a bit about the man who might be buying one of Sophie’s pots. If he really did have celebrity friends he might be involved in some things that the readers of Heart would like, and she could suggest him as someone else to interview for the magazine. But after quickly reading a bit about him she decided that he wasn’t right for Heart readers. Apart from supporting the arts and craftspeople, his website said he enjoyed boats, especially large yachts, and had an ambition to sail around the world one day.

  “He’s such an important person in the art world,” Flynn told Ellie as soon as she looked away from the screen.

  “Yes,” said Ellie. “He does seem to be. But it’s good Sophie isn’t getting too excited in case he doesn’t buy a pot after all.”

  “You’re as bad as she is!” said Flynn with a look of disappointment on his face. “It’s good to be modest, but Sophie needs to be more confident. She ought to get out there and be seen, so he doesn’t forget about her. After all, there’s a lot of competition in the art world.”

  “I’m sure there is,” said Ellie, unpacking her lunch and taking a bite out of the chicken wrap she’d made herself that morning.

  “She needs to go to some really high-profile events.”

  “Who’s going to invite me to high-profile events?” said Sophie, sounding rather fed up.

  Flynn looked a little disconcerted, but then his face cleared. “You don’t need invitations for everything,” he told her. “There are things you could buy tickets for. They don’t have to be arty events. Anywhere people might be who would be interested in your pots. You could take your cards and distribute them.”

  “Like I’m going to do that!” said Sophie. “You’ll want me to go around sticking leaflets on car windscreens next. It’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s got to be better than sitting at home, waiting for people to come to you,” he said. He sighed theatrically and looked at Ellie. “You see the problem I have with her?” he said.

  “And you see the problem I have with him!” said Sophie with feeling. “For a start, someone has come to me. Mark Kettle! Isn’t that good enough for you?” For a few seconds she looked really cross. Then she relented and went and gave Flynn a hug.

  “I’m sorry,” said Flynn, giving her a kiss. “You’re right. I just want everyone to know about you. And I suppose I don’t want you to risk losing famous Mr. Kettle.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed,” said Ellie, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “I’m sure he’ll definitely buy your pot. After all, he’s seen and liked it…why wouldn’t he?”

  Back upstairs after lunch, Ellie looked at her emails. There was nothing from Charlie Daniels’s agent, but the publisher had sent a brief message suggesting that Ellie might like to go to the author’s website, as well as their own page advertising his books.

  Well that’s not very helpful, thought Ellie. I’ve already done that! She decided to have another look at the author’s blog, but before she did that she opened another email that was waiting in her inbox. She didn’t recognize the company it was from, but as the magazine’s spam filters were pretty good she hoped it would be okay to open it. It’s some sort of agency, she realized as the email opened with the heading, SFB, Agent to the Stars and an illustration of a shooting star trailing a tail of sparkles behind it.

  Dear Ellie, the email began. Pop Lowther has asked me to pass on this information that she promised you a while ago.

  Ellie’s heart started thumping. She had almost given up hoping to hear from Pop. Ellie had interviewed the famous singing and modelling twins Pop and Lolly, and Pop had told her that she was going to start a new career. She couldn’t tell her what it was then, in case things didn’t work out, but Pop had promised to give the scoop to Ellie when she could. Ellie had heard nothing since, so this was very exciting.

  Pop wanted you to know that her new venture will be to design a collection of casual clothes for a chain of high-street fashion stores. Details below. She will be making a statement about it soon, but is hap
py for your magazine to run the story as a scoop in your next issue if you wish. She also asked me to pass on her compliments and apologizes for not contacting you herself. She is in Morocco just now, on a modelling assignment.

  Ellie read the email, then she read it again with a broad smile creeping across her face. This was brilliant! Francesca was bound to be pleased with her, and Angel ought to be as well. Every newspaper and magazine loved a scoop.

  Ellie looked at the name at the bottom of the email. It was signed with a flourish, Satin Fountain-Blowers. She must be the “SFB” at the top of the email. Quickly, Ellie scrolled down to read the details with shaking hands. The heading said Press Release. It contained the name of the fashion stores, the name of an Italian designer who was working with Pop and a bit of information about them both. The press release was dated in the future, giving Heart enough time to get the information out before anyone else. Ellie closed the email carefully and got up. She wanted to reply, thanking Pop and Satin, but she thought it best to show Francesca first. She needed advice about scoops and how to use them.

  “Francesca?” Ellie hovered by the Deputy Editor’s desk.

  “Found something on Charlie Daniels?”

  “No. Sorry. Not yet.” Ellie bit her lip to stop herself grinning too manically. “But I’ve just had an email I think you ought to see.”

  “Oh Ellie, can’t it wait? I’m trying to get this article finished.”

  Ellie hesitated. “Well, it will wait I suppose.”

  Francesca looked up from her screen and sighed. “You’ve disturbed me now so I might as well look, otherwise I’ll keep wondering what the problem is.” She walked over to Ellie’s desk and sat down. “Well?”

  “I thought you should see this,” said Ellie, reopening the email.