Page 18 of When We Were Young

Liv

I pull out my earphones before pushing through the revolving doors.

A huge glass atrium rises above me with several walkways crisscrossing the space.

I may have said ‘woah’ out loud. The wall behind the long reception desk is one huge screen playing a video of what looks like the inside of a lava lamp.

When no one’s looking, I take a picture and send it to Chloe.

The reception desk is manned by a team of female clones dressed like cabin crew.

I tell the nearest one I’m here to see Dad’s friend Tom.

Her long fingernails clack on the phone keypad. ‘I’ve got Olivia Lawrence in reception for you.’ Then to me: ‘Please take a seat. He’s sending someone down.’

My phone buzzes while I’m waiting. Chloe has sent a picture of her dad’s office. It’s the opposite of this place, all wood panelling and leather-bound books.

Chloe: I’m soooooo booooooooored!

Tom’s office must be on one of the upper floors, because no one comes for ages. My mouth is dry, I have to keep running my tongue over my teeth.

A guy approaches me. ‘Are you Olivia?’

I stand. ‘Yes.’

‘I’m Ben.’ He offers his hand. ‘Tom’s in a meeting. He asked me to meet you and get you a security pass.’

Ben is so cool; he’s wearing a smart shirt with dark jeans, but his hair’s all flipped up like a Mr Whippy ice cream and a full-sleeve tattoo pokes out from the cuff on his left wrist. We pick up a pass from security and take the lift.

As we rise through the floors, Ben asks me what I got up to at the weekend.

I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to hear about my sleepover with Chloe, so I say, ‘Nothing much.’

We exit on the twelfth floor and cross a walkway spanning the atrium.

I avoid the edge and don’t look down. ‘Are there any music magazines here?’

‘Yep. Amplify , they’re over there,’ he says, pointing to the opposite end of the walkway.

Ben waves his pass at a set of doors which lead into a large open plan office with amazing views across the city.

I follow as he points out the various departments: circulation, editorial, advertising, sales and marketing, before showing me to my desk in the art department.

There’s no sign of Tom, so Ben tells me to familiarise myself with the website and look at back issues while I’m waiting.

Once I have read the entire Luminaire website, I switch to the Amplify site. Within a few quick minutes, I know who the editor is (Paul Raymond), what he looks like (from his Twitter profile), and what he had for breakfast (Instagram – pain au chocolat ).

When Tom finally shows up, he’s surprised by how tall I’ve grown. ‘I’m sorting out something for you to do. Why don’t you pop up to the café on the top floor to get us some coffees?’

I take the order – eight drinks and a few snacks. People make comments like ‘coffee is an essential part of the magazine business’ and ‘good to see they’ve got you doing the important stuff’, which is hilarious. God knows how I’ll carry this lot back down in the lift.

I head out onto the floating walkway. The lifts are on the opposite side by the entrance to the Amplify magazine office.

I call the lift, and while I’m waiting, I peer in.

There’s a massive blown-up copy of an old Amplify cover on the wall featuring Christie Blackmore of The Underdogs.

I wave my pass in front of the sensor; it makes a high-pitched beep, flashes red, and remains shut.

Behind me the lift makes a less alarming bing .

‘Can I help you?’ comes a voice from behind me. It’s Paul Raymond looking exactly like his Twitter profile picture.

‘Hi! Yes!’ There’s no need to shout, he’s right there. ‘Paul!’

‘Yes…’

‘Raymond. Paul Raymond. Editor of Amplify magazine.’

His eyebrows lift. ‘And you are?’

‘My name’s Olivia. I’m on work experience over at Luminaire .’ I jerk my thumb towards the other end of the walkway. ‘But I was hoping I could swap.’

‘Swap?’

‘You know, do my work experience here instead of there. It’s only two weeks. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll do all the boring stuff no one else wants to do. And I make excellent tea.’ I don’t. Not according to my mum, anyway.

‘Hang on a minute,’ he says kindly. ‘Let’s get in here and talk about this.’

He flashes his pass at the door, and I follow him in. He gestures for me to take a seat under Christie Blackmore.

‘How old are you?’ asks Paul Raymond, sitting down beside me.

‘Almost sixteen.’

He looks mildly surprised at this. ‘Why do you want to do your work experience here?’

‘I love music.’

‘What kind of music?’

‘All kinds of music.’

He arches a bushy eyebrow. ‘You must have a favourite.’

‘Nope.’

‘Okay, what are you listening to right now?’

I don’t hesitate, ‘Will Bailey.’

‘There’s a blast from the past. What else? What else this month?’

I list a bunch of bands and artists I’ve been listening to. He tries to catch me out with a series of questions that would stump even the geekiest of music nerds, but I ace them all.

Paul Raymond sighs. ‘Okay, I’ll talk to the guys at Luminaire and we’ll give it a go, but if you’re any trouble, you can go straight back there.’