Authors: Zoe Sugg
“Wow!” Elliot exclaims, as he gazes around the lobby.
“Beats the Hastings Travelodge, eh, kids?” Dad says with a wink.
I’m too stunned to even giggle.
Mum looks slightly terrified. “This is huge,” she whispers to Dad. And I’m not sure if she’s talking about the lobby, the hotel, or the wedding she’s got to organize.
By the time we’ve been shown to our rooms, Elliot and I are doing a great impression of a pair of goldfishes—opening and closing our mouths but with no words coming out other than “Oh my God.”
We’ve been put in two adjoining rooms right next door to Mum and Dad’s.
“We need one of these back at home,” Elliot calls over
to me from the adjoining door. “How cool would that be, if I could just pop over to see you without ever having to go outside?”
“It would be very cool,” I say, perching on the edge of my bed. My room is like something out of a stately home. The furniture is all made from gleaming mahogany, the chairs and the desk and the bed all with ornately carved legs. The color scheme is burgundy and gold, which isn’t something I would ever choose for my bedroom at home, but here it’s perfect. I look over to the window. The velvet curtains go all the way from the ceiling to the floor and are tied back with wide sashes. “Oh my God, is that . . . ?” I jump off the bed and race over to the window.
Elliot follows me. “The Empire State Building,” he gasps as we gaze out at the New York skyline.
We turn and look at each other for a second, then we both start jumping about like kids on Christmas morning.
For the rest of the afternoon, Mum and Dad are busy in meetings with Cindy, Jim, and the catering manager. Elliot and I are supposed to be napping off our jet lag before we go out for the evening but we’re far too excited to sleep. Instead, we’ve built a nest of cushions and pillows on my bed and we’re channel surfing our way through American TV.
Elliot is also looking up interesting facts about the Waldorf Astoria on his laptop. My laptop is still tucked away inside my suitcase. I’ve decided to leave it there for the rest of the trip. I’ve also turned off the Internet on my phone. I want it to truly feel as if there’s an ocean between me and everyone from school and my Unicorn Knickers Shame.
“Oh my God, Pen, listen to this!” Elliot starts reading from
his screen. “The Waldorf Astoria was created by two feuding cousins called Waldorf and Astor who each built rival hotels next to each other.” He turns to me, laughing. “Then, when they made up, they built a corridor between them.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.” Elliot continues reading. “Oh, but it’s not this building. This one was built in 1931. The original hotel was knocked down to make space for the Empire State Building.”
We both glance to the window and once again I get that pinch-me-I’m-dreaming feeling.
“You’re not going to believe this,” Elliot exclaims with a gasp. “This was the hotel where room service was first invented!”
“You’re kidding?”
“Nope. And—and”—Elliot can barely contain his excitement—“there was a secret underground train platform.”
“What?”
“It was for VIPs who wanted to arrive here in secret, like the president.” Elliot looks at me, his eyes wide as saucers. “Oh, Pen, I love this place.”
In the end we order some room service because, as Elliot said, “It would be rude not to, given that they invented it.” We order a Waldorf salad because it was also invented here and a huge margherita pizza. I’m just starting to feel really sleepy when Mum and Dad get back. Dad is looking his usual laid-back self but Mum is looking super-stressy.
“There’s so much to do!” she wails, plonking herself down on my bed. “I knew we should have come sooner.”
“It’ll be fine,” Dad says, giving her a reassuring smile.
“We’ve got all day tomorrow to sort everything out. And Sadie Lee is a star.”
Mum nods. “Yes, she’s amazing. Her bread pudding tastes divine.” Mum turns to me. “Cindy and Jim were wondering if you could take some behind-the-scenes photos for them. They’ve got a professional photographer booked for the wedding day, but they were saying how nice it would be if they could have some pictures of us setting things up and putting the
Downton Abbey
touches to everything. And they’ve asked if you’d take some fun shots on the day too—the little things the professional photographer won’t see.”
“Seriously?” I feel an excited fluttering in my stomach. “But why me?”
“I showed them some of the pictures you’ve taken at other weddings and they were very impressed.”
Dad starts nodding and grinning proudly. “They really were.”
“So they should be,” Elliot says. “Penny’s an awesome photographer.”
I feel all smiley inside. “Wow. When do I start?”
“Tomorrow, while I’m setting everything up,” Mum says.
“Don’t worry, Elliot,” Dad says. “While the girls are busy we can do a bit of sightseeing. How do you fancy a tour of the museums?”
Elliot looks up at Dad and to my surprise I see that his eyes are gleaming with tears. “That would be epic,” he says quietly. “Seriously, you guys are the best. Thank you so much for bringing me here.”
“Oh, honey,” Mum says, laughing. “You’re very welcome.”
And we all smother Elliot in a hug.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, I’m woken by a knocking sound.
“Pen, are you awake?”
My first thought is, how am I able to hear Elliot’s voice so clearly through my bedroom wall? Then I open my eyes and catch a glimpse of crisp white bed linen and plush burgundy carpet and it all comes flooding back. I’m in the Waldorf Astoria. I’m in New York. I survived the flight!
“Yes,” I say, shuffling up to a seated position.
Elliot comes bounding through our adjoining door. “I’ve been awake for ages,” he says. “I’m too excited to sleep.”
I look at the clock and see that I’ve slept for ten whole hours. This is an incredible achievement after the nights of fitful sleep back home.
Elliot plonks himself down on the end of my bed and opens his laptop. “OK, I know you didn’t want to go online while we’re over here but there’s something you need to see.”
I instantly feel sick. “No, please, Elliot, I don’t want to see anything to do with the stupid video. I just want to forget about it.”
Elliot shakes his head and smiles. “It’s not the video; it’s your blog.”
I stare at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you, my dear, have gone viral again—but this time in a very good way.”
“What?” I crawl up the bed toward him and turn the laptop around so that it’s facing me. I see my post about facing my fears.
“Scroll down,” Elliot says.
I scroll down. There are 327 comments.
“What the . . . ?” I stare at the screen blankly. I’ve never had this many comments. Ever.
“They’ve all been posting about their fears,” Elliot says, “and how they’re going to face them. They’ve been sharing it too. Look how many followers you’ve got.”
I look at the followers bar on the right-hand side of the screen. “Ten thousand?”
Elliot nods. “Ten thousand, seven hundred, and fifteen, to be precise.”
I sit back, stunned. “Oh wow.”
“You should read them, Pen, some of them are so moving. There’s one girl who says she’s going to stand up to the bully in her class and there’s another who’s going to confront her fear of dentists. And, oh my God, you have to read this one.” Elliot starts scrolling through the comments. “Look.” He turns the screen back to face me.
Hi Girl Online, my fear is a bit different to the others on here and, to be honest, I’ve never told anyone about it before. But if you’ve got the courage to face your fear after your car accident, then I feel like I ought to face up to my own fear too. My fear is my mum. Well, not exactly my mum herself . . . I’m afraid of her drinking. Ever since she lost her job she’s been drinking more and more and I hate what it does to her. It makes her really angry and moody and she always shouts at me. But that’s not what I’m most afraid of. I’m most afraid that she doesn’t love me anymore. That probably sounds really dumb but she seems so different—like she doesn’t care anymore, about anything or anyone, even me. But your blog post has inspired me to do something. Today, I’m going to tell my auntie how I’m feeling. I know she won’t be able to fix anything but she might be able to give me some advice, and just telling someone might help me to feel a bit better. Thank you so much for being so brave and for inspiring us to be brave too. Lots of love, Pegasus Girl xxx
I look at Elliot, my eyes filling with tears. “Oh my God.”
Elliot nods. “I know and look at this.” He scrolls right down to the bottom of the comments.
Hi again. Just wanted to let you know that I told my auntie and she was so lovely. She came over to see my mum and my auntie has asked us to both come and stay with her for a while. My mum didn’t get angry with me at all—she was really sad and she said how sorry she was and that she was going to get help. Thanks so much, Girl Online, you’re so right: sometimes you have to face up to your fears to realize that they aren’t actually real. Lots of love, Pegasus Girl xxx
Tears spill down onto my face. I wipe them away and stare at Elliot. “I can’t believe that—that something I wrote . . .”
“I know.” Elliot puts his arm around my shoulders. “I’m so proud of you, Ocean Strong.”
I snuggle into him. “Thanks, Elliot.”
He shakes his head and frowns at me. “Thanks,
Waldorf Wild
.”
I raise my eyebrows.
“It’s my new Sasha Fierce name.”
• • •
Nothing beats Dad’s “Saturday Breakfast,” but breakfast at the Waldorf definitely comes a very close second. After we’ve all feasted on crispy bacon, blueberry pancakes, and maple syrup
all on the same plate
(which might sound weird but actually works), Mum and I go up to the suite where the wedding’s going to be held while Dad and Elliot head out to do some sightseeing. Although I’m really flattered and excited to be asked to take some photos for Cindy and Jim, I can’t help feeling a little wistful. I hope I get the chance to go out later; I’m itching to see some more of New York.
As soon as we enter the wedding suite, I look at Mum and gasp. “Oh, Mum—it’s perfect.”
She nods and smiles. “I know.”
With the portraits on the walls and plush carpets and antique furniture, it looks just like the set from
Downton Abbey
.
Mum puts her To Have and to Hold planner down on a small table by the door and I instinctively turn my camera on. She’s put the planner right next to a beautiful antique table lamp, which seems to perfectly sum up the theme of the wedding. I zoom in close enough to pick up the lettering on the planner and take the picture.
“So, this is the room where they’re going to get married,” Mum says, gesturing at the rows of gilt-edged chairs that have been arranged in front of a grand fireplace. “Then after the ceremony the guests will be brought through to the dining room for the wedding breakfast.”
“Why’s it called a wedding
breakfast
?” I ask as I follow Mum toward a pair of huge doors on the other side of the room.
“I’m not exactly sure,” Mum says. “Maybe because it’s the first meal the couple have as husband and wife?”
I make a mental note to ask Elliot; he’s bound to know. “Oh wow!” The double doors open onto an even grander room, which is full of round tables. Huge old-fashioned chandeliers are suspended from the ceiling, with lights that look just like candles. Each table has a beautiful centerpiece woven from holly and white rosebuds. And at the far end of the room the long head table is trimmed with a border of sepia Union Jack bunting. It all looks really beautiful—and really British.
“Oh, Mum, it looks amazing!”
She looks at me hopefully. “Do you think so?”
“Absolutely.”
“Hello! Hello! Well, this must be Miss Penny.”
I turn to see a woman coming through a small door at the end of the room. She’s wearing a polo neck and smart trousers and has her long grey hair tied up into a bun. She’s clearly in her sixties, and she’s striking-looking, with really high cheekbones and eyes as brown as conkers. Her lipstick is a beautiful shade of dark red against her porcelain skin.