Chapter 44
44
21 DECEMBER
Margaret and I arrive at Le Vieux Bistrot in the Latin quarter. It’s a small family run cosy restaurant that serves raclette and fondue and, while these dishes are slightly old fashioned, visitors to Paris usually delight in the theatrical nature of the experience.
‘I hope you like fromage .’
‘I could live on it.’
We’re seated at a table for two and order wine, French onion soup for entrée and raclette for main.
‘This place is divine,’ Margaret says, taking in the cave-like aesthetic of the small space. ‘I sometimes wish I lived anywhere other than London.’
Things have been so hectic; I haven’t noticed the change in my agent’s demeanour until right this second. She’s usually swearing and blustering in her high energy way. I’d figured she was here solely to get her hands on Chloe’s manuscript, but now I take a moment to study her, I sense it’s more than that. Her shoulders are high, and there is a certain stiffness about her that’s out of character.
Our wine arrives. I take a sip, enjoying the swirl of the robust red while I wait her out. Soon, two steaming bowls of French soup are deposited on our table, and a sweet fragrant smell permeates the space between us. If there’s one thing Margaret is, it’s forthright, so it won’t take long for her confession, now that we’re alone.
Margaret swizzles her wine and then blurts, ‘I’ve left the agency.’
Shock knocks me sideways. ‘What!’ Margaret has been at Thames Literary her entire career of forty-odd years. Is there even a Thames Literary without her? While she’s not the owner, she’s the face and has the biggest stable of well-known authors who have been loyal to her.
‘But… why?’
‘That celebrity “author” was the nail in the coffin. I couldn’t stand it another minute. Why do we have to bend and scrape on one knee like a sycophant to the likes of him? Sure, his cosy mystery has sold well, but so what? We’re allowing a guy to swan in, behave horribly, and we can’t say a word, because the rules don’t apply to him.’
My mouth falls open. ‘Did he do something when you met him that was a catalyst for this?’
She takes a sip of wine. ‘He told my new assistant she’d be gorgeous if she had her teeth fixed. And it devolved from there. He went into detail about a sex act she could perform… Actually, I’ll leave it there. It was heinous . She was in tears and quit that afternoon. I talked to the powers that be and can you guess what they said?’
I sigh. ‘Something like “She’s too sensitive. She’ll never make it in the biz if she can’t take a joke. He’s known for his ‘humour’. He doesn’t mean anything by it.” Shall I continue?’
‘No, you’ve summed it up. And so I lost a fantastic staff member due to him and there was no point even telling her to go down the legal route, because I understand he’s got a prestigious law firm on his side, and she won’t be able to fund the fight against that behemoth.’
I know that feeling of powerlessness. ‘It’s awful. And so… you also quit?’
‘Not before I threatened them with going to the press with details about what they let slide, because they figure he might be their new cash cow and I’m supposed to turn a blind eye to his behaviour. It’s not just him. It’s all the reality stars, the two-bit celebs, or big-name male authors and the deals they get and how I’m to allow them to treat our staff badly because they bring in the most money.’
‘You went to the press?’
‘I bloody well did.’
‘But I haven’t heard anything about this news breaking? I’ve been distracted with the hotel and my deadline, but I would have thought my industry friends would have told?—’
‘I got legal advice first, found out where I stand. What I’m risking and how to best survive the onslaught when it does go to the press.’
‘Smart. So when will that be?’
‘An hour ago.’
‘What!’
‘Yeah. I did an in-depth interview with The Times . And spoke on the record to several tabloids too. He and the agency will be feeling the pinch right about now, I would guess.’
If I raise my eyebrows any higher, I’ll fall over backwards. ‘So you’re hiding out here while the dust settles?’
‘God, no! Do I look like the hide-out sort?’
I laugh. ‘No, you don’t.’
‘I’m ready to fight with everything I’ve got. Who wants to risk their own neck in situations like this? But, if not me, then who will? The same rules should apply to all in publishing and I for one am over it.’
‘I’m dead proud of you.’
‘Good, because that’s my other reason for coming here. I’ve started my own literary agency and I’d love to take you with me.’
It’s a no brainer. ‘You’re my agent and always will be.’
‘Thank you, darling. But that doesn’t mean you can expect deadline extensions in the future. I’m not going soft or anything.’
I let out a bark of laughter. ‘I wouldn’t expect anything less. And your old assistant, the one who quit?’
Margaret gives me a dazzling smile. ‘She has a sparkly new title of Executive Assistant.’
‘Nice. I’ve got to check this interview out.’
‘It’s online already.’
I take my phone and swipe it to life. The article is titled Juggernaut Agent Quits! It goes into depth about publishing scandals over the years and how certain celebrity or big-name male authors have behaved disgracefully with no comeuppance. I go to Twitter and have a look at what my publishing pals are saying about Margaret’s exposé about the industry as a whole. Which is a lot . My feed is full of retweets and a running commentary about people who have had interactions with the debut author and none of them are positive.
The hashtag #CelebsAren’tRealAuthors is trending, with authors from the same publishing house demanding the debut cosy crime writer be cancelled.
I open the latest message from an author friend, Tully Davies:
Your literary agent has finally silenced that sleaze! I hear she’s on the hunt for new authors. Put in a good word for me, would you? I’d happily switch agencies for one with a woman like that at the helm.