Chapter Seventeen
From: [email protected]
Subject: Book of the Dead 2 — deadline approaching!
Hi Winter
Just touching base to let you know we’ve got your publication window all set for next June and we’ll be putting out the first round of publicity after Christmas. I know Dan is up there but he’s gone a bit quiet lately. To be honest I think he needed some ‘personal time’, things haven’t been easy for him recently, so if you do see him then pass on my best regards.
Anyway. You’ve got another twelve weeks before we need to see that first draft. No pressure, but I’d like to know which way to angle the publicity, so if I could get a first look around Christmas, I can take it home with me and read through, make some calls.
I’m sure it’s all going just great. Look forward to reading the finished article.
Best
Greg
I stared around the room. The books were in exactly the same position on the table as they had been when I’d tidied pre-Alex, and that had been three days ago, but, by using all my authorly powers, I managed to convince myself that this was a good sign. At least I haven’t thrown them out of the window.
Why wasn’t I writing? The question kept coming round to haunt me. I was having blindingly brilliant ideas, always in the middle of the night, but during the day it seemed almost more effort than I could muster just to turn on the computer and drink coffee. The book was two-thirds done, perhaps there was some miraculous way I could pad out the bits I’d written already, make them hit the word count and . . .
You’ve lost it, Winter.
‘Daze?’
‘So you need me again now, do you? I was thinking you’d replaced me with Daniel.’ A pause. ‘Again.’
And horror dropped through me like a hot ball bearing through jelly. ‘It was never like that. Please, Daze, don’t. I need you. The writing’s come to a standstill and Dan . . . was here but I think he’s gone again, and I don’t know what I’m doing and everything is getting so fucked up and . . .’ The tears blotted out the words, ‘And you’re all I’ve got.’
‘It’s okay, Win.’ Her voice was softer now, maybe it was because I was crying. I rarely cried. Daisy had always been the ‘emotional’ one, after all, and one of us crying fit to burst was usually enough in any situation, if I joined in it was like misery in stereo. ‘Don’t cry. No, it’s good that you haven’t needed me, totes. Sometimes I worry that you need me too much.’
I cried a bit harder. ‘You’re all I’ve got, Daze. You’re like my still point, you know?’
Daisy sighed. ‘Winnie, you’ve got Alex to talk to now. You’re even getting yourself sorted with Dan, maybe it’s time we had a bit of a break from one another.’
My heart set like a solid block in my chest. ‘You mean not speak to you when I need to?’ I imagined Dan’s face. ‘Dan would think he’d won.’
She sighed again. ‘But it might give you another shot with him.’ She sounded mischievous now. ‘Wouldn’t it, Winnie?’
I suddenly had such a strong picture of her that it felt as though she was in the room with me, sitting drinking something with ‘chai’ in the title, draped in layers of fabric that would have made me look like a walking sample-book but made her look cutting-edge. Her hair was all unstructured, and the millions of thin bracelets she always wore were chittering and chiming whenever she moved an arm. I half-smiled. The twin thing still worked, even when she was annoyed with me. ‘Now you are just winding me up, Daze. You don’t want me to end up with Daniel, do you?’
Now she was trying not to laugh. ‘Don’t I? Maybe I can’t wait to see you shacked up with Chaos Boy in a little flat in London.’
‘No way.’ But the panic was over, she was teasing me again. This had been just another one of our occasional spats, when one or other of us would try to assert some kind of ‘single child’ position over the other. I wondered if, sometimes, we didn’t do it just so we could test the twin bond for strength, and then felt a cold shudder deep inside at the thought of what would happen if it shattered.
‘Look, Win, do you want to get this book written? Or is it better to chuck it all in, admit that you only had the one book in you, hand back the advance and go back to telling people why they should buy the latest lawn mower?’
I could almost hear those bracelets now; Daisy fiddled with them when she talked and I’d always been able to find her in a crowd, just by following the sound — and then teased her it was like her version of cow bells.
‘No, I can do it. I know I can. I’m just blocked.’
Daisy snorted. ‘Come on, that’s bollocks and you know it. You’re holding up the book as a way of getting back at Daniel.’
‘Am I?’
‘That or at least getting his attention. And it’s worked, hasn’t it? He’s there. Now you just have to decide whether you’re not finishing it as a way of keeping him around. And what about your luscious Alex? You’ve pretty much done a one-eighty on him since Dan turned up. What’s that about?’
‘I’ve just been trying to avoid everyone, I think. I haven’t even seen Scarlet much either.’ I felt a sudden pang. Scarlet had made me promise to go over and see how Bobso was settling in, but I’d pretty much barricaded myself inside the House of Tiny. ‘I’ll go and see her today, when she gets back from school.’
‘Good. That’s a start anyway. And I suppose you’ll see Alex while you’re there?’ Daisy sounded mischievous again, far better than that horrible wary tone she’d had at the start of our conversation. ‘He’s everything Dan isn’t, and maybe there’s your problem.’
‘Wow, you are good at this aren’t you?’
She laughed. ‘It’s what I’m here for, Win, obvs! Okay, now go and do,’ and she was gone. But now I was smiling.
Daniel Bekener @EditorDanB
Jeez this is hard.
ElliottTravels @Tripsky02
@EditorDanB Well stop poking it then.
Daniel Bekener @EditorDanB
@Tripsky02 More right than you know, mate. Maybe I’ll just leave it.
EastEndSmith @Barrowboy70
@EditorDanB Things are only hard if you care.
Daniel Bekener @EditorDanB
@Tripsky02 @Barrowboy70 You can really push an entendre, can’t you? But could be right.
EastEndSmith @Barrowboy70
@EditorDanB @Tripsky02 Found something to care about at last?
Daniel Bekener @EditorDanB
@Barrowboy70 More like ‘again’. Yep, going for again. Never knew it would be like this, never knew it *could* be. Will hang in.
A.N. Editor Blog
Christ. Christ, this is hard. A huge part of me just wants to cut and run now. Ha, the life of an editor — all of you following this blog for tips on getting published, you must be so sick of my internal monologues now. Yeah, the life of an editor, it’s all glamour. All shiny books and grateful authors and the eternal fucking angst of how to spend the money.
No. It’s not your fault and that’s unfair. I made the fatal mistake of getting involved. Never happened before, I mean, I’ve run the whole ‘girlfriend’ thing (thanks for the comment, Jeremy, mate, but I’m pretty much straight as they come) but it’s never been like this, never got under my skin, made me itch this way. Always thought that love would be clean, y’know? Uncomplicated. That you’d just ‘know’ and she’d ‘know’ and then it would be hearts and flowers all the way to the aisle and the reception in some country barn. I didn’t think that you could get it wrong, I mean, what is there to get wrong?
Shit, do you want a list? You can fall in love with some girl who’s got herself so truly fucked up that she can’t even see you for what you are. And everything you say, everything you try, just makes it all that little bit worse.
Fuck it. Fuck it. Write to the market, if that makes you happy. Write to make money, write any kind of crap, I’ve got no advice to give you any more. I’ve got nothing.
Alex Hill
This is Bobso, latest addition to the Hill family! S is madly in love, of course — we really need more excitement around here.
[Picture of Bobso.]
27 people like this.
Comments:
Lucy Charlton: We’re having a barn dance up at school next week, you should come!
Matt Simons: You could take black-lipstick woman. Show her how you can party in the Leas.
Alex Hill: Seriously, Matt, that’s pretty exciting around here!
Matt Simons: Hey, Dundee isn’t much better.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Barn dance
I was serious on Facebook you know. Come to the barn dance! Bring Winter, if she wants. Remember us ‘do-si-do-ing’ at Matt’s party that time? I want to see if you’ve still ‘got it’!
Lu x
It was getting dark when I wandered my way over to the Old Mill. The shops were on the point of closing, the streets emptying of people. There were no bars or clubs opening, no lines of those waiting for the evening to get started and wind up into the frenzy of a night, just the pub filling a little more and the descent of a frost that made my heels crack on the pavement as I walked.
The lights of the Old Mill were muted but welcoming. The atrium was softly lit and a lamp glowed down from the flat; the office was in darkness except for the satanic red glow of the coffee machine’s power light. I pushed my way in through the main door, and found Margaret and Alex standing just inside, surrounded by the smell of new wood and polish.
‘W-winter!’ Alex immediately came over to hold the door open for me. ‘H-hello. J-just telling M-mum I wanted to f-f—’
Oh, Alex. No, stop it, Winter.
‘Facebook you and ask you over,’ Alex finished in a rush. ‘S-scarl is upstairs, writing a s-story about B-b-Bobso.’ He rubbed his face. ‘She c-could have c-called him Andrew, for my s-sake.’
‘How are you, Winter?’ Margaret asked. Her tone was ‘motherly concern’ overlaid with wool from what was either a hand-knitted scarf or an anaconda with a really nasty skin condition. It was wrapped around her neck so many times that I wondered what she was going to do when December arrived. ‘I suppose you’re terribly busy, aren’t you, although we haven’t seen you outside much recently. You should get out more, you know. Into the sunshine.’
‘W-winter is a writer, M-mum, not a t-tomato plant,’ Alex said.
‘Hmmm.’ Margaret looked me up and down. The scarf bobbed as though it had a life of its own. ‘You’re looking thin. I know thin is supposed to be the new voluptuous, but a young lady who appears to be a stranger to the sticky toffee pudding can never be attractive as far as I am concerned.’
‘G-good job she’s n-not trying to p-pull you then, M-mum.’ Alex gave me a grin. ‘You l-look fine,’ he said, the grin broadening.
Since I hadn’t even looked in the mirror before I left the house, I doubted this was the case, but it was nice of him to try to mitigate the effect of his mother.
‘Winter!’ There was a frantic rush of sock against wooden stair, and Scarlet precipitated towards us like a downpour. ‘D’you want to come and see Bobso? He’s got a huge hutch and a thing that goes out on the grass so he can be outside without getting eaten by foxes.’ She jumped the last few steps and slithered alongside me.
Alex and Margaret exchanged a Look, and I deduced that they’d been talking about Scarlet when I arrived. And, knowing Scarlet, that she’d probably been listening.
‘Yes, come and show me.’
‘B-boots, Scarl. If you’re g-going outside,’ Alex said, and she sighed heavily, flouncing over to her wellies, which lay scattered just inside the doors as though lost during a particularly balletic moment. Alex is going to have his work cut out when you’re a teenager , I thought, and, from the look on Alex’s face, the same thought occurred to him on a regular basis.
‘Daniel would like to know,’ Margaret put a hand on my arm, ‘whether it would be all right if he called on you tomorrow.’
I blinked. Had I somehow fallen though a wormhole into Pride and Prejudice ? Focussing on her weird apparel meant I could ignore that little burst of heat that had gone off inside me at the realisation that Dan hadn’t left me and headed back to London. ‘Er, yes. Sure. Why didn’t he just come round?’
Margaret gave a boa-busting shrug. ‘He’s giving you “space” apparently. To “think”. I’ve told him what you need is a week of square meals and a turn around the Topping . . .’
I mouthed ‘euphemism?’ at Alex, but he shook his head.
‘. . . but he says that, where he’s concerned, you need space.’ She raised her eyebrows at me. ‘Do you?’
I opened my mouth to say that what I really needed was Daniel and the uncomfortable feelings that he roused in me to go away, but I was saved by Scarlet dashing up to me, her wellies making ‘pock pock’ noises against her legs. ‘Come on, we need to see Bobso before it gets too dark. Light Bulb is keeping guard on him in case of cats,’ she said, and I was dragged through the doors and around the building to a small shelter, probably built for logs, but which now contained a hutch which looked as though it had been made for a nightmarishly large rabbit. Bobso sat in one corner, squeakily disgruntled at being disturbed halfway through a carrot. Light Bulb, even more lopsided than usual, leaned above the hutch like a corduroy angel at a rodent nativity.
I admired the guinea pig as much as I could, while Scarlet bobbed around telling me about how he needed his water changed every day and fresh food and bedding, and seemed to be taking the whole ‘pet ownership’ thing very seriously. She seemed happier and brighter than she had for a while, so I carefully brought up the subject of school. ‘Has Mr Moore said anything to you about me visiting school?’
Scarlet paused in her recital of guinea pig no-nos, where she’d reached ‘no citrus fruits’, so may have been working alphabetically. ‘He said to tell you that he’d email you.’ Another bounce, which Bobso regarded with the equanimity that told me he was probably going to be a very good pet. ‘And Daniel told me to tell you that he wants to see you but he doesn’t want you to be frightened. He only wants to help you write the book, but he thinks you think that he’s trying to make trouble.’
‘Dan? When did he say that?’
‘Yesterday.’ Bobso received a soggy kiss on the nose at which he blinked his amber-button eyes, then began rotating his jaw around another carrot.
‘Dan was here yesterday?’
‘Mm. He came to help me put Bobso in his run. He’s nice.’ She turned her face up to me, a pale circle in the darkness. ‘Is he your boyfriend now?’
‘No.’ I moved off, back towards the Old Mill. ‘No, Scarlet, he’s not, and he never will be.’
‘Oh.’ The sound her boots made slapping along her bare legs was like an amateur wobbleboard enthusiast having a practice session. ‘He says he really likes you.’
‘Oh . . . does he.’
‘Mm. I told him that you had dinner with Alex and that you kissed him, and then Dan started laughing and said that Alex didn’t know the half of it. What’s the half of it, Winter? How can you know a half of something? ’Cos if you know something you don’t know there’s another half that you don’t know, do you? You think you know all of it.’
Luckily we reached the doors just then, because otherwise I might have said something about Daniel that I regretted, especially to a little girl who seemed to regard him as only one step down from St Francis of Assisi. ‘It’s just a saying, Scarlet.’ I held the door open for her. ‘It’s just Dan, stirring up trouble.’
‘C-coffee?’ Alex was waiting for us. Alone, so Margaret had probably gone home; that or been subsumed into Wool Hell. ‘Upstairs, S-scarl. B-bath and b-bed, young l-lady.’ Scarlet opened her mouth to protest, but Alex held up a hand. ‘W-what did we d-decide?’
‘That I’m only allowed to get up early to see Bobso if I get to bed before nine,’ Scarlet recited. ‘Night, Winter.’
The wellies hit various parts of the hallway and she slip-bounded her way up the stairs. The door to the flat closed softly and Alex let out a sigh. ‘S-seems to be w-working,’ he said, and looked at the floor. ‘It’s D-D-Dan’s idea.’
‘For God’s sake!’ Oddly, because I thought I was angry, tears needled behind my eyelids. ‘That bloody man is everywhere! Margaret, Scarlet and now you. He’s probably got all the Stepford Mothers in his pocket too.’ A sudden and very unwelcome image of Daniel, smiling down at one of those immaculately made-up and turned out women, putting a hand out to brush her hair away from her face and moving in for a kiss . . . my throat went hot and tight.
‘He-he’s j-just nice , Winter.’ Alex opened the office door and the red light winked like a summons into Purgatory. ‘He cares about a l-lot of stuff. About y-you.’
‘Just coffee, Alex,’ I said, sharply. ‘That’s all I came for. Not another one of Dan’s remote-controlled chats, I’ve just had one from your niece.’
The coffee machine spurted into life, jetting a great torrent of steam upwards and groaning like an old man forced out of his chair. ‘Y-you and D-Dan . . .’ He was busying himself with preparing mugs of coffee, not looking at my face.
‘I told you what he did, Alex. How could you ever think I would have any kind of thing again with a man who behaved like that? Apart from armed conflict.’
The coffee smelled good and my mouth began to water. How long is it since I last ate? I’m losing track here and that’s not good . . .
‘I s-saw how you w-were at the R-r — at the pet place, and it l-looked to me as th-though you h-have stuff to s-sort.’ He held a mug out to me. ‘And y-yes, you told me about D-Dan and your s- sister. But it l-looked to m-me like more th-than that.’ He raised his own mug in a silent toast.
My hand was shaking, I realised, when hot coffee began to slop over the mug rim, and I lowered it down to rest on my knee. ‘Dan being an absolute bastard wasn’t enough?’
Alex took a deep sip of his coffee, then looked at me through the steam. ‘Un-unless there’s more th-that you’re not t-telling me, n-no, th-that’s n-not enough.’ Another sip. ‘Is there?’
Despite the bitter coffee, despite the delicious smell sending saliva around my tongue, my mouth went dry. ‘No,’ my voice was cracked and hard. ‘No.’
‘Th-there’s n-nothing else?’ He was persistent, I’d give him that. But then, bringing up Scarlet would teach even the most indecisive person how to stick to their guns. ‘S-sure? B-because no one c-can help you, W-winter, unless y-you admit a p-p-problem.’
And then I began to wonder what Dan had said. How much he’d said, and how he’d twisted things around.
‘Look, thanks for the coffee, Alex, but I really ought to go. If I’m going to get the Editor from Hell dropping in tomorrow then I should get everything in order for a status report.’ I tried to smile and be light, anything else would only fuel the fire. ‘And also, incidentally, clear a backlog of cups that makes it look as though I’ve been hosting international coffee mornings all week.’
He gave me a complicated look, as though a smile was fighting with concern and almost winning, before being knocked to the ground by doubt. ‘Okay.’ He took the mug I held out and put it carefully on the desk, then moved in to give me a careful hug. ‘B-but if you w-want to t-talk, Winter, I’m h-here.’
I gave him a quick return hug. ‘Nothing to talk about,’ I said as I stepped clear. ‘Don’t get caught up in Dan’s games, Alex. I think he’s looking for collateral damage.’
The complicated look took on shades of sympathy and disappeared as he raised his mug and started drinking. ‘G-goodnight,’ he said, softly, and I made good my escape.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Barn dance
I’d love to make the barn dance. Not sure about Winter though. It’s a bit complicated.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Barn dance
Okay. Well, if you need to talk about things, you know where I am! Winter is lovely, Scarlet never stops talking about her and it’s obvious she cares a lot for both of you but . . . sorry. Not going to say any more. She’s lovely and it’s a shame she can’t make the barn dance. See you there.
Lu x