As Ellie headed towards her place at the reception desk, feeling as if her feet were hardly touching the floor, she was very aware that Piano was looking at her suspiciously. Ellie tried to rearrange her expression, so she didn’t look quite as excited as she felt, but it wasn’t easy. As soon as she reached her chair she plonked herself down and opened her laptop, keen to get on with some Pop and Lolly research.

“What did she want then?” said Carlotta.

Ellie turned eagerly to her. “Angel’s going to let me interview Pop and Lolly Lowther, and then try to write a feature on them. Isn’t that exciting? I hope I can manage…” Ellie stumbled to a halt as she noticed Carlotta’s face change from mild interest, through confusion, to hurt and then to anger. Ellie remembered that Carlotta had been hoping for some more writing work herself. No wonder she was upset.

“But…I bet I make a hash of it,” Ellie gabbled, trying to limit the hurt she had unwittingly inflicted on Carlotta. “They probably won’t be here for more than five minutes…and I don’t suppose my article will be any good… Sorry,” she ended, feeling terrible. “I think it’s just because I’m so young…” She was only making things worse.

Carlotta stared at her for what seemed like hours, and then turned away, tight lipped. She didn’t speak to Ellie again for the rest of the day.

Over the next twenty-four hours, in between running errands for the rest of the staff, Ellie worked really hard on her assignment. From being underemployed she suddenly had far too much to do. Every time Angel strode through the office, Ellie learned to make herself as small as possible, and to keep her head down. If Angel noticed her she was likely to send her for coffee or give her Ferdinand’s lead and tell her to take him out for an hour. Ellie did as she was asked without protest, but as soon as she had a moment to herself she would be back, immersing herself in research about Pop and Lolly Lowther, the model and singer twins who had started modelling when they were only toddlers, and were Ellie’s age when they recorded their first pop song. They were doing the interview because now they’d recently left school, Lolly was intending to go to university, while Pop had decided to launch herself as a solo artist. Ellie couldn’t wait to meet them.

And although Carlotta was taking time to get over her disappointment, Ellie found she had a new ally. Francesca had happened to overhear Piano telling Ellie to clear out the stationery cupboard and she’d intervened.

“That can wait,” she’d said mildly, though both Piano and Ellie were left in no doubt that she’d meant every word. “Ellie is working.”

Piano shot Ellie a poisonous look, but didn’t say anything. Ellie was discovering just what a peach of a job the others considered the interview to be, and how jealous they were, but she didn’t care. This was her chance to prove herself, and she wasn’t going to let Piano, Carlotta, or anyone else put her off.

There was plenty about Pop and Lolly on the internet. Ellie turned from the laptop screen to her notes. She had a question she needed to write down: had Lolly’s decision to study medicine been an easy one? It would be interesting to know why she wanted to change her career so dramatically. There was a world of difference between being a celebrity performer and a medical student.

Ellie had printed out a list of questions that were regularly used by Heart interviewers, but she saw no reason why she couldn’t ask one or two of her own. After all, you couldn’t call yourself a journalist unless you were prepared to probe. A shiver of expectation ruffled the fine little hairs on Ellie’s arms. She hoped she wouldn’t be totally cowed by such a high-profile interview when the time came. What if she messed it up?

Back home after work, Ellie thumbed through her notebook, reading over her notes for the interview the following day. Seeing her father’s words again, she remembered about showing her mum and went to find her.

Georgia and Ellie sat at the kitchen table together to look at the book. “That’s amazing,” said Georgia quietly, as she read the words her husband had written over fourteen years ago. “I had no idea. I realized he hadn’t taken it with him, and just assumed there wasn’t anything in it.”

“What I don’t understand is why he wrote You can do this!” said Ellie. “It means a lot to me, because I’m just starting out, and need all the encouragement I can get. But he was really experienced.”

Georgia had a faraway look in her eye. “Experienced, yes,” she said. “But, though he never said anything to me about it, I knew how much he had to psych himself up for those trips. He wasn’t an irresponsible thrill seeker. He went to those dangerous places because he thought he owed it to the people who had died there. He wanted their stories to be told.” Georgia touched the pencilled words gently with her finger. “I wish I’d known about this before. I’d have been more understanding that last time he went away. I was expecting you at the time. I didn’t want him to go. I didn’t make it easy for him.”

Ellie bit her lip. “Maybe I shouldn’t have shown you,” she said.

Georgia shook her head. “No. You did the right thing. Really. Did he write anything else?”

Ellie thumbed through. There seemed to be a phrase at the top of every few pages. Ellie’s heart beat faster. The second phrase, five pages in, was Trust your instincts. Ten pages in, the third phrase was Make someone smile every day. She showed her mum.

“He used to say that to me all the time,” said Georgia. “Needless to say, we didn’t always manage it!”

Ellie felt overwhelmed with emotion. She had never met her dad, and yet he was speaking to her, using phrases that obviously had meant something important to him.

“I don’t think I want to read any more just now,” she said to her mum. “You can if you like, but I think, if there are any more I’ll save them for later. He must have spaced them out through the notebook so he could savour each one as he reached it. I think I’ll do the same.”

Georgia gave her daughter a hug. “Your dad would have approved of that,” she said admiringly. “I would never have the self-discipline to do the same, but it’s a very good plan.”

After supper, Ellie had to decide what she was going to wear for the interview. She tried to view her wardrobe dispassionately. What she saw didn’t impress her. She’d always been happy enough with her clothes in the past. She had loads of T-shirts and tops, several skirts and a couple of pairs of decent jeans – but since she’d started at Heart, dissatisfaction had crept in. It wasn’t that Ellie wanted to try to emulate Angel or Francesca. They were virtually stellar in the fashion stakes, but were much older than her, and their clothes didn’t appeal to Ellie. But Carlotta and Piano had the sort of style that made her despair. It wasn’t so much that their clothes were expensive, though it was obvious that some of them were. It was more that, whilst Ellie had always thought she looked fine, next to Carlotta and Piano – and with such famous people to interview – she suddenly felt totally uncool.

“What are you doing?” Ellie’s mum was standing in the doorway, looking at the heap of discarded clothes on Ellie’s bed.

“Trying to decide what to wear tomorrow.” Ellie tried not to let her voice seem plaintive, but even to her own ears it sounded suspiciously like muted wailing.

“Didn’t you borrow something from Heart?”

Ellie frowned. “What do you mean?”

Georgia smiled. “Aren’t there racks of samples everywhere? I thought that was what it was like in these fashion magazines.”

Ellie’s face fell. “There are loads of samples,” she admitted. “But it didn’t occur to me to ask if I could borrow anything, and it’s too late now!”

Ellie’s mum smiled. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’ll know next time. For now, what about your new cream top and jeans?”

Ellie gave her a pitying look.

Her mum soldiered on. “Jeans are cool. And your new top suits you.”

Ellie plonked herself down amongst the clothes and folded her arms, feeling furious. “I bet we are allowed to borrow stuff. Piano and Carlotta are always turning up in new things but complaining about their low wages. I’m so stupid! Why didn’t I realize?” Ellie was really annoyed with herself, but she was even more angry with the girls in the office. Someone could have helped her out. Carlotta and Piano probably hadn’t because they were still jealous she’d got the assignment. Still, feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to make things any better. She needed inspiration, and she needed it now.

“I’m not trying to be funny, Mum,” she said. “But I am going to be interviewing Pop and Lolly Lowther. I’ll feel invisible next to them unless I wear something special…and I don’t have anything even approaching special.”

Georgia Ixos moved some of the clothes aside and joined her daughter on the bed. “I know what you mean, love. But will they be wearing glamorous clothes for an interview?”

Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know. But they used to be models as well. So probably.”

“Shouldn’t a good interviewer be almost invisible?”

Ellie considered. “Well, maybe,” she admitted, trying to be fair. “But they are only letting me do this particular job because of my age. And it’s not just the interview. They are going to take pictures!” Ellie leaned her elbows on her knees and put her chin in her hands. “All my friends will buy the magazine to see me in it…and I’ll look pathetic!” All of a sudden she felt tears pricking at the backs of her eyes.

Georgia put her arm round her daughter and hugged her. “There’s no way you’ll look pathetic. But I do understand, love – feeling it is just as bad as looking it, when you’re in a situation like that.”

“I’ve been through everything I’ve got, Mum,” Ellie mumbled into her hands. “And it’s hopeless.”

“What about a retro look?”

Ellie sank down backwards, until she lay amongst the disorder from her wardrobe. “I don’t have anything retro,” she said.

“I do,” said Georgia in a quiet voice.

Ellie’s reply was muffled by clothing. “What?”

“There’s Granny’s sixties daisy dress.”

Ellie fought to sit up again and emerged with her hair in a mess. “What daisy dress?”

Georgia smiled. “I don’t think you’ve ever seen it. It was never right for any of the fancy-dress parties you’ve been to. And it’s so pretty I could never bring myself to put it in the dressing-up box for you when you were little. I was afraid it might get torn. It’s in a bag in my wardrobe. Would you like me to get it?”

Ellie looked uncertain. “Okay.”

While her mum went to find it, Ellie tried not to hope too much. It was almost certain to be dire. Retro clothes could be cool, but that didn’t mean anything old would work, and the sixties had started over fifty years ago! Could any clothes last that long and still look good? Her mum was gone for quite a long time, and when she finally returned, Ellie was busy folding up tops and shoving them back where they belonged. She had put aside a skinny top to wear. It meant she would probably be cold during the interview, but it would be worth it not to feel a total loser. It would just about do, paired with her best jeans.

“Here you are! Sorry I was so long. I’d forgotten where I’d put it. Anyway, it needs ironing, but see what you think.” Her mum held out a plastic carrier bag in one hand and some sort of hat in the other.

Ellie took the bag, and gave the hat a baleful glance. “You know I don’t wear hats.”

Slowly, she drew a handful of dark blue fabric out of the bag. It felt limp and was badly creased, but, actually, now she could see, it wasn’t just blue, it was dotted with huge, white, abstract daisies with bright pink centres. The design should have been awful, but strangely it wasn’t. She shook the dress out and stood up. The long sleeves were tapered in tightly at the wrist, and there was a wide belt covered in the same fabric to cinch in her waist. It had a high neck and a short, flared skirt that would swirl about as she walked. It looked different from anything Ellie had ever worn before.

Georgia opened the wardrobe door so that Ellie could look at herself in the long mirror. She held the dress up against her front and looked. “I’m not sure. It’s…” Ellie couldn’t imagine her granny ever wearing this dress. It was too funky. It shouted hot summer days and noisy parties. It was somehow wild and yet demure at the same time. “Maybe if we ironed it…”

“Don’t go away. I’ll do it. It’ll only take a couple of minutes.” Georgia grabbed the dress, and Ellie could hear her mum setting up the ironing board in the kitchen. Ellie felt she should offer to do it. After all, it was for her, but instead she waited, trying not to expect too much.

“Try it on.”

Ellie scrambled into the dress. It felt strange. The cut was so different to the clothes she was used to.

“Put on your sandals,” said her mum. “Before you look at yourself again.”

As Ellie stood up in her low-heeled sandals, her mum plonked something on her head.

“This was Granny’s too. She used to have a thing about John Lennon. You know? From the Beatles.” The cap had gone on at an angle, and Ellie shook her head in irritation. “I hate hats!” But before she could wrench it off her head she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Suddenly it wasn’t Ellie Ixos standing in front of the wardrobe mirror, with a grumpy expression on her face. Instead, there was a person with real style, with the sort of edginess she’d admired in Carlotta and Piano. It wasn’t up-to-the-minute fashion, but it worked in a way none of her clothes had ever worked before. The modern shoes with the retro dress and, most of all – though she hated to admit it – the cap: that was what pulled it all together and turned the outfit into something special. She didn’t know why it looked so totally cool, instead of like a nerdy fancy-dress outfit, but she did know, beyond anything she’d known before, that it worked.