CHAPTER 10
‘ She was one of those women who wore her breasts like a rosary ,’ the voice droned through the microphone, pausing for effect. ‘ She wafted her sexuality through the university like an expensive perfume, like a prayer. ’
‘What does that mean?’ whispered Sam.
‘Oh, it’s obvious,’ Jeremy whispered back. ‘She had boobs, but literary authors can never just say that.’
‘But I’m unsure why her … boobs … have even been mentioned,’ Sam said, his brow furrowed. ‘I thought this was a story about the uncertainty of academic tenure.’
‘I can tell you don’t read literary fiction,’ said Jeremy. ‘In order for the author to be taken seriously, one of these characters will have to die of suicide by the third act, and every chapter has to have some form of joyless or existential sex.’
‘How do you have joyless sex?’ asked Sam.
‘Thrilled for your exes that you even have to ask that. Trust me, it’s possible. Hang on, we’re going to need this …’
Jeremy used a dip in the author’s concentration as he stared at the page (the sentence he was reading from clearly contained several semicolons) to sneak over and grab another two glasses of cheap wine.
‘Now, tell me, what do you think of the bouquet?’ whispered Jeremy, passing over a glass of urine-coloured wine.
Sam played along and took an exaggerated sniff, which led to a look of alarm. ‘Good god,’ he gasped quietly. ‘It’s giving petrol tank.’
‘Yes, but the mouthfeel is … confronting,’ mused Jeremy. Sam chuckled and elbowed him gently. Jeremy rolled his eyes at the straight-boy mode of expression – so much semi-violent touching. But he had to admit it was charming in its own way. Jeremy didn’t come from a physically affectionate family.
Brian Northern Trellis stood behind a small lectern, thumbing through a copy of his book, a glass of red wine perched ostentatiously near his hand.
As he read, he took moments to pause, look meaningfully from under his thick crow-wing eyebrows, and sip from the wine.
Brian was attractive. Like a TV sitcom doctor, he was all intense stares and a full head of grey-speckled hair that he ran his hand through every so often.
He wore a nice but rumpled grey suit, giving him a romantic air Jeremy thought was probably deliberate.
Brian continued reading: ‘ “I love you, Magdalene,” spake Frank desperately, falling to his knees. She looked at him mercilessly, a cigarette clamped between the two slices of her perfect, pitiless lips, and tossed her magnificent head like an untamed horse.
“You are pathetic, Frank. But tonight, we will lie together.” ’
Brian slammed the book shut, closing his eyes as the bookstore politely applauded, as if only reluctantly accepting the praise.
‘Christ,’ said Sam. ‘Am I meant to feel both depressed and horny?’
‘You should have done the cover quote,’ Jeremy answered.
Now the reading was (finally) over, he was nervous.
A line was forming for the signing and the mingling had begun, and he was coming to terms with how insane it was to attend a famous author’s book launch to try to befriend him for purposes of revenge.
That was not something one could do indifferently.
‘Look, we don’t have to wait around,’ Jeremy tried to drop casually. ‘We’ll be waiting for hours with this line. We should find some food – otherwise the wine might eat straight through our stomach linings.’
Sam merely chuckled and started looking at some of the books on the shelf.
‘No, I mean, we should go,’ Jeremy pushed. ‘I doubt we’ll get the chance to even talk to him.’
The line was really only moderately long – it was a book launch, after all.
But Jeremy dreaded the idea of waiting in it and trying to turn a brief and awkward signing interaction into something meaningful.
‘The line is so long, Sam. And trust me, the authors never talk long to you. It’s just “What’s your name?
” and then you’re shuffled along to make way for the next gibbering idiot. ’
Sam took him by the arm and guided him through the dispersing crowd. ‘Jeremy, you’re very smart, but you’re missing something obvious here – you don’t need to wait in the line like everyone else. You have something about you that gives you an automatic skip … something special …’
Sam was clearly teasing him, but Jeremy was genuinely unsure where he was going with all this. ‘My … charisma?’ he asked hopefully.
‘Oh yes, definitely that,’ agreed Sam, now scanning the room for someone or something. ‘But there’s something else about you that’s perhaps even more relevant here … something about yourself that you seem to have forgotten.’
Jeremy looked at Sam, confused but flattered. Was Sam saying he was … extraordinary?
Sam found an older woman standing near the signing table and appeared to size her up. Jeremy noted her shoes and standard of skirt and wasn’t impressed.
‘You’re up,’ Sam muttered, striding over to her.
Jeremy shrugged and followed, plastering on a smile.
He hadn’t seen Sam like this before – it must be what he was like in the workplace, on his campaigns, all quietly determined and professional.
He was such a gentle person that it was easy to assume he was a pushover all the time.
‘Ah, hi,’ he said, stepping in for a casual handshake, which the woman returned instinctively, if tentatively.
‘I’m Sam, and this is Jeremy of course, the journalist I mentioned. Great turnout tonight – well done!’
‘Uh … Margaret,’ she answered slowly. She blinked behind her spectacles.
‘Yes, lovely to chat in person! So, Jeremy is a big fan and, as I mentioned, we would love to move beyond just a review and go for a profile with Brian. Does he have any times that work for him?’
She nodded along slowly and, clearly rallied by Sam’s words, pasted on a big professional smile. ‘Lovely, wonderful … Well, let’s introduce you and we can … see.’ She led them closer to the table.
Jeremy saw what Sam was doing and wondered why he hadn’t thought of it himself.
Still, a bit of warning would have been nice, so he could think of a reason why PopBuzz, a youth website that had famously never acknowledged the existence of books before, would want to do a profile on an old-man author.
‘Sorry to interrupt … Brian, darling, this is Jeremy. He’s a journalist and he’s keen to do a profile on you around the new book, which is exciting.’
Brian Northern Trellis looked up from the book he was signing, looking mildly irritated at the interruption, raising his eyebrows at Jeremy.
‘I am just a huge fan,’ Jeremy began. ‘It feels like your books have followed me through some of the worst times in my life.’
That was technically true. Whenever he thought of Miles, he thought of him reading Brian Northern Trellis.
Miles in bed, reading Brian. Miles walking through campus with a paperback ostentatiously peeking out of his coat pocket.
Miles writing his PhD, surrounded by annotated copies of Brian Northern Trellis’s books.
‘I see, I see …’ Brian nodded. ‘What publication did you say you were from?’
Jeremy noted that Margaret perked up at this question too, and then looked shocked when he answered, ‘PopBuzz. It’s a digital youth-focused website,’ he explained, watching both Brian’s and Margaret’s faces fall with disappointment.
He saw Sam grimace too – he had to rescue this somehow.
‘And you know, now that the youth have become obsessed with your books on TikTok, we absolutely had to get you on the site. I want to introduce you to our audience – full profile, front page,’ he said, banking on neither of them knowing that a news website didn’t have a front page.
Brian looked thoughtful and Margaret excited. ‘Yes, Brian,’ she said. ‘We are really excited about the interest from young people on the TicTac!’
Jeremy smirked and saw Sam grinning broadly at him.
‘The kids like my books?’ asked Brian, clearly flattered.
‘Oh yeah,’ said Jeremy. ‘I mean, they’re a generation raised under the shadow of climate apocalypse, they’re the children of the collapse of capitalism: of course they identify with … the psychosexual cynicism of your work.’ Jeremy was so glad he’d proofread Miles’s dissertation several times.
Brian nodded in surprise.
‘Plus, handsome gay authors are all the rage now,’ Jeremy added, layering on the flattery.
Brian chuckled and waved the compliment away but he looked chuffed. ‘Well, that’s wonderful. Margaret will set up a time with you and I’m looking forward to our chat.’
Jeremy grinned, and even he could tell it was almost predatory in its intensity. He couldn’t believe the plan was working.
‘Let’s get a quick photo of you two as well,’ said Sam, laser-focused on the prize.
Brian stood and enveloped Jeremy’s hand in his own, smiling at the camera with professional ease. After the photo was snapped, he looked at Jeremy and said, ‘I’m really looking forward to seeing you again, Jeremy,’ increasing the pressure slightly on his hands.
Was Brian Northern Trellis flirting with him? This night literally couldn’t get better. He was mildly repulsed by the man, sure – but nothing could make Miles more annoyed than this very moment.
Margaret and Sam quickly conferred over details, with lots of air kisses going around as they said their goodbyes.
They finished their horrible wines and walked out of the bookstore onto the cold street, shrugging on their coats.
As soon as they were away from the shop, Jeremy squealed and threw his arms around Sam.
‘You absolute madman: you did it. How on earth did you know that would work? How did you know Margaret?’
Sam looked proud and squeezed Jeremy quickly as he withdrew from the spontaneous embrace.
‘It was something I learnt from watching Patsie work. It’s a publicist’s job to be on top of everything, and they’ll always just go along with you rather than admit they’ve missed an email, always bluff their way through.
So in this case, I just pretended we’d already been talking. ’
‘Did you gaslight that poor woman?’ asked Jeremy.
‘I think I did,’ admitted Sam, looking a bit guilty. ‘But it was for a good cause. For someone I care about.’
Jeremy clapped his hands in delight. ‘My god, this is going to drive Miles mad. I actually think this spite plan is going to work. I wonder if I can get Brian to say something mean about Miles’s book?
Wait, no, that’s dangerous. But still! There are so many possibilities.
Do you wanna grab an actually drinkable beverage and brainstorm? ’
Sam nodded, sighing a little, but Jeremy ignored it, already planning how he would wield Brian Northern Trellis as a weapon, an instrument for revenge.