Free Search for a Star by Cindy Jefferies Page A

on something with a face like thunder.
    â€œWhat’s happened?” Ellie asked Debbie, picking up Ferdinand to give him a last stroke before she returned him to his mistress.
    â€œAngel Makepiece really gets up my nose sometimes,” said Debbie in a low voice. There was no sign of the Editor, but it would never do for her to hear such comments from her staff.
    â€œWhy’s that?” said Ellie.
    â€œShe’s only changed her mind about Kurt! She’s announced that she thinks pictures in his hotel would look better. I’m sure she gets us all excited on purpose, just so she can let us down.”
    Ellie thought Angel had much more important things to think about than irritating her staff, but she didn’t like to say so. “Maybe he doesn’t want to come out of his hotel in case he’s mobbed by his fans,” she said, thinking of all the effort Piano and Debbie had been going to make in the hope that he would notice them. “I expect he gets loads of girls throwing themselves at him, so maybe he wants to avoid that.”
    â€œI think she just wants him all for herself,” said Debbie, looking thoroughly fed up.
    Ellie really didn’t want to turn into another version of Piano, but she couldn’t resist making some sort of comment as she went past her desk. “I’m so sorry you won’t get a chance to see Kurt Draagan,” she said sweetly. Piano pretended that she hadn’t heard. But when Ellie got back to her desk a rude message appeared on her laptop. It didn’t say it came from Piano, but Ellie was as sure as she could be that it had. Ellie deleted it with a smile.

On the morning of the interview with Adam Calwell, Ellie wore her Jacob Frou shoes. She was immensely proud of them. They were called the Pirate because they hinted at pirate boots without looking exactly like them. They were lined in the softest red leather, and fastened with a gold coin. What’s more, they held her feet as if they were precious objects. They were the only designer items she actually owned. To Ellie the shoes felt so comfortable, it was like walking on clouds, yet at the same time, they always made her want to stamp her feet on echoey wooden floors and dance about with wild abandon.
    At the moment she was doing none of these things. She was sitting quietly on a bus, with her notebook on her knees, revising the questions she was going to ask the fashion designer, and hoping that the shoes she was wearing would help him to take her seriously as something of a fashionista. From the bit of research she’d done she knew that his mission statement was to get girls to love dresses. It would be interesting to hear how he intended to do that!
    The sun had been shining when she’d set out from home, but now, to her dismay, the sky was clouding over, and it looked like rain. Oh no! Don’t rain . Please don’t rain just yet, she thought. But in no time the bus was driving through a torrential downpour. Ellie was cursing herself for not bringing a coat or umbrella, when the rain suddenly stopped and the sun came out again. Ellie hopped off the bus in high spirits, carefully avoiding the puddles as she headed towards the designer’s workshop. She’d almost got there when it happened. A lorry went past, sending a whoosh of water over the pavement where she was walking. It was impossible for her to avoid it, and she was instantly drenched from the knees down in horrible, dirty water.
    Ellie rang the doorbell feeling really upset.
    Julie let her in. “Adam’s looking forward to meeting you,” she said, drawing Ellie into the large, light workshop. “But what’s the matter?”
    â€œI got splashed by a lorry just before I got to you,” said Ellie. “So I’m sorry, but my feet are rather wet.”
    Julie glanced at the rather sorry-looking Pirates on Ellie’s feet and gasped. “What amazing shoes! They’re