Chapter 47 #2
Cal quieted for a moment. ‘I am proud of my family,’ he said.
‘And things might change now that my dad’s unwell, but when I was younger I needed to step out on my own and prove I could be successful without them.
Maybe that sounds daft, but inheriting a job wasn’t enough.
I don’t know if you know what I mean. Most people think that’s stupid, but––’
‘I understand,’ said Bea. ‘I understand better than you think.’
‘You do?’ Cal brightened. ‘Are you a secret heiress or something?’
‘No. I get it, that’s all. I’d much rather work to be successful with my writing than have someone put a load of money in my lap.’
‘Yes, exactly,’ said Cal. ‘I guess it’s called a work ethic.’
To Bea, it was also self-respect. Knowing that whatever she achieved – which didn’t feel like much at the moment – she had worked for herself.
‘Although,’ Cal added, ‘Your writing sounds like it is already pretty successful to me.’
Bea knew she was still on the journey up the mountain, but she didn’t want to get into a conversation with Cal about her self-worth, so she simply said, ‘Thanks.’
‘That reminds me,’ said Cal. ‘Let me show you something else. Come on.’ He led Bea back up the path to the main house.
Once inside, he guided her through several corridors to what may have been another wing where he opened the door into a large, airy but welcoming room filled wall to wall with shelves of books.
The whole place smelled wonderful, like old faded pages, decades of knowledge and forbidden secrets.
‘Welcome to my mum’s library,’ Cal announced like a tour guide.
Bea spun round taking it all in. ‘Just your mom’s? There are a lot of books in here.’
‘Yeah. My dad has his own in his study upstairs. ‘These are all my mum’s books and these two walls over here are all your speciality.’
Bea paced over to the shelves. ‘Romance? Really? These are all romance books? Oh my goodness, so they are.’
‘Absolutely. I told you she loved romance. Can you see now why I got an appreciation of the genre, growing up with this within my grasp?’
‘I certainly can.’ Bea pulled a book out from the shelf and flicked through it. ‘This is an extraordinary collection.’
‘Took me nearly forty years to amass them all.’ Amanda’s voice came from the doorway.
‘Been collecting them since I was seventeen and I haven’t thrown a single title away.
Although, I have to say I’m surprised that this is what Cal considers a highlight of our home.
My book collection isn’t normally what wins people over. ’
‘Bea has more of an interest in the genre than some,’ Cal informed his mother proudly.
‘You do?’ Amanda stepped closer.
‘Um, yes,’ said Bea. It awkward being put in this position.
It was as if Cal was leading her into telling his mother she was an author, but in amongst all these Jilly Coopers and Jackie Collinses, she was a very amateur pretender to the throne.
Amanda was examining her with interest, and Cal wasn’t doing anything to help her – the floor was hers –so she had to say something. ‘I, er … I write romance myself.’
‘You do?!’ Amanda’s face illuminated with genuine interest. ‘Are you published?’
‘Well…’
‘Don’t be modest, Bea,’ Cal said with the deadpan levity he managed so well. ‘Nothing can be overplayed when it comes to my mother and romance.’
Amanda shot Cal a withering but playful look. ‘Oh shoosh,’ she said, before turning back to Bea.
‘I self-publish,’ Bea said.
‘Under what name?’ Amanda was forthright and to the point. ‘Is it your own?’
‘Um, no. My pen name is Calliope Birch.’
Amanda’s mouth dropped open. ‘Calliope Birch? That’s you?’
Bea tensed. Why was Amanda so surprised?
‘Yes,’ she murmured.
‘Well, goodness me. I’ve read all your books. I especially loved the Midtown Millionaires series. Rock Dagenham is an absolute god.’
Bea was almost speechless but spluttered out some words. ‘You … you’ve read some of my books?’
‘Oh, yes, they are unputdownable. I love them. You’re a very talented writer and you will go places, I am sure of it. In fact, from what I’ve seen online over the past twenty-four hours that you may be about to.’
‘Sorry?’ Bea had no idea what Amanda was talking about. Online? What was happening online? She might have thought Cal’s mother was confusing her with someone else, but for the fact that she named one of her series and one of her heroes.
‘We’ve not seen the internet since we left Edinburgh,’ said Cal. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘It’s her short story,’ said Amanda. ‘Wait, I’ll show you.’ She moved over to the desk to a laptop and turned it on. ‘Come and look at this.’ She motioned to Bea and Cal. You’re the talk of this romance forum.’
‘My short story?’ Thoughts were fleeting through Bea’s mind.
She had written quite a few short stories in her time, and she often gave them away as freebies to her loyal fans.
But she hadn’t written a fresh one in a while.
That was until… The story she had posted a couple of weeks ago, the one inspired by Cal and her travels to Scotland, designed to be a teaser for the novel.
That had taken off? Was this what Amira was calling about?
‘People are talking about it a lot.’ Amanda brought up a thread where people were saying how much they couldn’t wait for Bea’s novel to come out and that they hoped she’d come back from her holiday soon because they needed to read the book and learn more about this hot Scottish hero, Hal Hunter.’
‘Hal Hunter?’ Cal was reading over Bea and his mum’s shoulders. ‘This story everyone is talking about has got a character in it called Hal Hunter?’
‘Yes,’ said Bea, absent-mindedly because she was still trying to read all the messages on the screen. Then she realised what Cal was getting at and stood to face him. He was staring at her with a kind of puzzled surprise. She couldn’t work out what he was thinking.
‘Can I read it?’ he said.
‘I’m not sure it’s your cup of tea,’ Bea mumbled.
‘I’d like to read it, if you don’t mind.’
‘Well, go to her website and sign up for the newsletter,’ said Amanda, not realising what was going on. But Bea knew. Cal suspected the story she’d written was about him, and he was none too pleased with the prospect of finding out he was right.