Chapter Two
Any hopes I’d had of using my journey into work as time to try and absorb all the horrifying information I’d had to deal with in the past few hours went out of the window when I got on the tube train at Greenwich station.
My head was jammed under some guy’s armpit. He smiled apologetically all the way into central London, and attempted to re-position his briefcase so it didn’t leave a permanent indentation on my thigh. I didn’t smile back. I wondered whether he was maybe having an affair behind his wife’s back like Dad was with Mum.
I couldn’t stop the bitterness from surfacing. I’d cried a river of tears and now I was feeling pure anger. I couldn’t help it. All the lies, I felt like a total idiot!
In the rush hour carnage I was herded through the ticket barriers and spotted a 'Big Issue’ seller to my right.
I attempted to do my usual swervy tactic to avoid having to admit to him that I was too tight to pay £1.50 for a magazine that helps homeless people but I couldn’t because the entrance was too jam packed with people, so I ended up having to pass right by him.
As I did so, someone pushed passed me and I was forced to grab hold of the woman next to me to steady myself. I was emotionally and physically battered and suddenly, I felt the red mist of anger descend.
“'Big Issue' Madam?”
“YES! IT IS ACTUALLY!”
The guy looked startled and held his hands up in a position of surrender. He muttered something as I passed him, I think it might have been “Have a nice day.” Total eejit!
I pushed through the crowd, ran up the steps and out into the fresh air.
I didn’t stop running until I got round the corner into Trafalgar Square and then I crumpled onto one of the stone walls by the fountains, put my head in my hands and sobbed.
Amber, stop it. Get a grip and calm down. I took some deep breaths.
In less than 5 minutes I was going to have to walk into the office of my new job and meet a whole new group of people that I was going to have to be ‘funny’ and ‘quirky’ with and I wasn’t altogether sure I could do it because my heart had been ripped out twice in the last twenty-four hours. Oh God!
The clock on one of the buildings down Whitehall chimed nine and I wiped my eyes and wearily checked my face in my pocket mirror. At least it was hay fever season, which gave me an excuse for the blotches.
“You can do this Amber, come on.”
I got up, took a deep breath, put my shoulders back, head up and marched off like a girl on a mission.
I walked up Charing Cross Road, mentally dusting myself down.
“You can do this.”
When I got to Leicester Square, I felt a surge of adrenaline as I looked up at the huge building housing the offices of ‘Wow’ magazine. It’s famous bright blue sign was displayed proudly on the dark, Victorian brickwork.
“Feck! Here I go.”
As I walked into the reception area, I could see the main press office through the glass. I’d peeked in there once before when I’d come for the interview but now I was looking at it from a whole new perspective. I was now officially a part of the formidable ‘Wow’ empire and it was awesome.
A tall, slim girl, about my age, walked out of the main office towards me. She had long, straight, black hair, so shiny it ran the risk of temporarily blinding passers-by, should the light catch it at the right angle. She was attractive, in a Nicole Scherzinger kind of way, so…yes, quite attractive!
I was suddenly conscious of my swollen eyelids and I hoped she wouldn’t think I’d been punched in the face as that wasn’t the look I was going for.
If my best mate Emily were around she’d have said. “It’s not as bad as you think it is.”
My Mum on the other hand would have opted for. “Ooh, yes they are a bit.” Like on my sister’s wedding day when she was just about to walk down the aisle and my Mum said. “Is there anything you can do about your moustache?”
The girl stopped in front of me, looked me straight in the eye for a couple of slightly awkward seconds then stretched out her hand. A wide smile spread over her face and her eyes came to life as she shook my hand enthusiastically.
“So, you’re Amber? Great to finally meet you. I’m Brooke. I’m one of the senior reporters here and I’m going to be mentoring you for the first few weeks. Let me give you the tour.”
She seemed lovely, very friendly.
As we walked into the huge open plan office, I felt a rush of excitement. It was so quirky, the atmosphere was buzzing. I loved it.
All the desks in the main area and the walls surrounding them were full of pictures, signed posters, photos of them with various boy bands, fashion articles and all kinds of weird, goofy mascots.
Over in the communal areas there were huge, round, neon coloured arm chairs positioned in little circles with coffee tables in the middle piled with magazines. People were curled up on them with lattes and hot chocolates talking ten to the dozen.
This was no ordinary office. No suits or ties. Everyone was in bright, trendy stuff, sporting their brightly coloured Converse trainers and their Superdry t-shirts with Big Time Rush pumping out of a sound stereo over in the space-age style kitchen area. It was too cool.
Brooke led me over to a group of six desks, the people at them all busily thumping away on their laptop keyboards.
“Everyone? This is Amber, our newbie. Amber, these are our other junior reporters; Jess, Claire, Dan, Angela and Rory, but you don’t need to speak to Rory if you don’t want to, he’s not that interesting.”
Rory smiled sarcastically. “Hang on a minute, I just have to go pick up my head. It actually fell off while I was laughing so much.”
I raised my hand to say. “Hi,” and got a friendly. “Hi,” back from everyone except for Rory who ignored me completely.
As I turned round to go I heard him mutter. "We need another gossip girl in this office like I need a hole in the head."
Nice. Lovely guy. A hole in the head could be arranged. I made a mental note to not like Rory. Actually, I just added him to my growing list of men that I didn't like, it's latest two members being Josh and my Dad!
Brooke turned to me. “You’ll enjoy the banter.”
"Not with him, I won't," I mumbled. "Pleb."
I turned to give him my best evil stare but failed miserably and almost walked into a pillar.
Brooke lead me away across the office and over to a separate, more corporate looking office that was sectioned off in the corner. She paused at the closed door. “Ok, this is Max’s office, our Editor. You have to bear with him, he’s not exactly the happiest person on the planet. In fact his usual disposition is one of general depression, bordering on suicidal. With Max, the glass is not only half-empty, it’s actually smashed on the floor and he’s trodden on it.”
“Great,” I said, smiling. “I’ll hide my paracetamols.”
She knocked on the door and opened it, inviting me to go in first.
“Max, this is our new junior reporter Amber.”
“Oh God,” came the response as Max looked up wearily.
His expression matched that of someone who’d just been told their whole family had died tragically in a car accident. “Is that today? Well, I can’t sort out all the induction and stuff now; I’m totally up against it here. She’ll have to go with you to the 1D press call and observe, I’ve got a million things to do and the complaints commission have just rung…”
Brooke interrupted. It was obviously a scenario she was used to. “That’s cool Max, no probs,” she piped up in a breezy voice. “Come on Amber, let’s get going.”
I thought I should at least show him some kind of acknowledgement so as I was going out the door I said in my brightest voice. “See you later Max, nice to meet you!”
He raised his head ever so slightly; the weight of the world on his shoulders managed. “Hhmmuh.”
Jesus. He should do stand up. He’d have them rolling in the aisles.
I followed Brooke back to her desk and she turned to me. “I’ll do the rest of the tour later. We need to jump in a taxi up to Camden Town. One Direction are playing a gig there on Wednesday so they’re doing a press call. We need to take some notes and do a short write up for the ‘Date for your diary’ column.”
“Cool,” I said, trying to sound professional.
I was actually quite excited. My first boy band interview, this was what it was all about. I was starting to love my job already and with all the comings and goings, I’d managed so far to supress any emotions that were threatening to surface.
We hailed a taxi and headed up Charing Cross Road towards Camden.
I gazed out of the window. Theatre land was alive with tourists and I felt incredibly lucky to be right slap bang in the middle of it all. I loved London so much, it was the best city in the world.
When I looked over, Brooke was staring at me intensely. When she noticed I was looking back at her, she smiled suddenly and shifted positions to get her notes out of her case. She fished out an itinerary.
“Right, the place is going to be pretty packed with reporters. The boys are taking questions for twenty minutes to advertise their one off gig at The Roundhouse. We need descriptions of how scrummy they’re looking, what they’re wearing etc and we need to try and get a few quality quotes in from all of them. Shouldn’t be hard, they’re funny lads.” She paused.
“Actually, tell you what, you can do the write up for this if you want? You may as well start in at the deep end.”
“Really?” Oh my god, my first assignment, slightly scary. It felt good though, knowing that Brooke trusted me enough already to let me do it.
She gave me a copy of the spec. “Take all the notes you can, then spend a few minutes at the end to check you’ve got it all on the Dictaphone and record any other thoughts you’ve got on there before you forget them. Make a rough draft from all the notes and e mail it to me. I’ll sort out any corrections, write up the final draft to be submitted and e mail it over to Max but it'll be your assignment really."
“Cool! Thanks Brooke. I don’t know too much about them to be honest.”
I suddenly felt a bit under prepared. I should know all the hot bands inside out really but I’d been so consumed with Josh, everything else had seemed unimportant. What a total waste of time.
“You’ll be fine. You’ll fall in love with them all. They’re gorgeous, all of them. Do you have a boyfriend?”
Oh God. If there was one conversation I didn’t want to have. I had to tell her the truth; I was going to be working with her every day so she was going to find out anyway.
“I did but we broke up just recently.”
I could feel my eyes watering and my breath go shallow. Don’t get upset Amber. “He cheated on me. One in a long line of men that have messed me up, so….anyway, it’s done with.”
“Oh Hun. I’m sorry.”
She sat back in her seat. “They’re not all like that, if it’s any consolation. My boyfriend is mine and mine alone."
She looked out of the window. “Even if another girl did try to lure him away from me, he’d always come back because he knows we’re meant to be together for keeps… and God help any girl that tries it.”
She stared into the far distance with a glazed look in her eyes.
“You ok?” I asked.
“I’m fine Hun. Don’t worry, you’ll get over him. And in the mean-time, I’ve got your back ok?” She smiled.
“Cool. That’s good to know, thanks.”
As the taxi sped up to Camden, the events of last night and today replayed over and over again in my head and I fought tears back all the way there.
We pulled up on Chalk Farm Road and Brooke paid the taxi fare. As I turned to face the Roundhouse, I took a big, deep breath and prepared myself to meet the boys from One Direction.
VOTE! VOTE! VOTE!