Chapter 5
Chapter Five
A llie hadn’t intended to go and meet Martin after her meeting and she certainly hadn’t intended to stay in the cafe for as long as she had. But it turned out that Martin was surprisingly good company, especially in the aftermath of the devastating news about Verity’s departure. Periodically Allie would stare at her phone hoping that Verity would call her and when her phone remained blank she felt a horrible mix of sadness and nausea.
And Martin seemed to get it because whenever he noticed Allie looking miserably at her phone he would launch into another publishing anecdote, which was helping to take her mind off the predicament she found herself in. He had just finished telling her about the time he had witnessed a fist fight break out between a Booker prize winning novelist and a disgraced ex-politician, Allie was beginning to suspect that his stories might not be a hundred percent true, when her phone rang. Allie’s hand shot out to pick it up.
‘Is it her?’ Martin asked, sitting forward in his seat, fully invested.
Allie appreciated his enthusiasm but shook her head. ‘No, it’s a friend. Another author actually. I bet she’s calling to remind me it’s her book launch tonight.’ Allie let out a big sigh and put her phone back down. ‘I promised I’d go but to be honest I’d rather be anywhere but around publishing people right now.’
‘Thanks.’ Martin grimaced as he sat back and crossed his arms.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean…’
‘It’s fine, I was joking. I understand.’ Martin watched her keenly across the table. ‘Do you want my opinion?’
Allie shrugged, out of any other options. ‘Sure.’
‘I think you should go tonight.’ Allie started shaking her head but Martin pressed ahead. ‘Look, it’s always good to keep in with your contacts. And you never know where inspiration might strike. Could be tonight.’
Allie raised her eyebrow, wondering exactly how long it had been since Martin had been invited to a launch party. It was no longer excessive drinking, fights between authors and dangerous liaisons in the cloakroom. Although she thought back to her inappropriate thoughts about Will, the waiter, outside the cloakroom at the V on paper, and if she had full control over her situation, she wouldn’t have picked veteran thriller writer, Martin Clark. But maybe it could work? Their differences could only make each other stronger. Or some other life-affirming nonsense she might have heard on any one of the therapy podcasts she was always listening to.
‘Have you ever had a writing partner before?’ she asked.
‘No, but then I’ve never been this far behind on a deadline before. Or in so much potential trouble with my wife.’ He looked over at Allie. ‘So I’m in if you are?’
Allie paused. She should really think about this. Maybe discuss it with Jess before she committed to anything. At least run it past Verity … and then she remembered that Verity was no longer a part of her writing life. Taking a deep breath and throwing caution, and any kind of previous good sense to the wind, she said, ‘OK,’ with far more conviction than she actually felt.
Martin’s face lit up. ‘You’ll do it?’
‘No, we will do it’ Allie emphasised. ‘I’m not just handing you my brilliant serial killer plot, I need something in return. You have to win Angie back, relight that fire, remember?’
‘That sounded like something straight out of one of your books.’
‘You read one of my books?’ Allie felt her face flush. ‘Wow, Martin,’ she gushed. ‘I mean googling me is one thing. But actually parting with cold hard cash to read one of my books? Now I’m flattered.’
‘Don’t get too full of yourself,’ he frowned. ‘I got it from the library.’
‘Of course you did.’ Allie couldn’t stop herself from smiling.
‘So now you’ve prised my shameful secret from me…’
‘Not shameful, Martin. I will not have that. Be a proud reader of romance. My books will provide you with excellent research material,’ Allie quipped.
‘Alright,’ he growled, ‘moving on. How about we meet back here once a week? You can share some thoughts on my plot. I can give you some anecdotes from my life for yours. And then we give each other writing prompts to go away and work with before the next week? What’s wrong?’ he asked, seeing the look on Allie’s face.
‘Could we agree not to meet here?’ Allie gesticulated to the office block over the road. ‘I would rather not run the risk of seeing Jake Matthews each and every week unless I really have to.’
‘Good point,’ agreed Martin. ‘And, actually, maybe we should make it a different place each week? We take it in turns to pick. Somewhere we think might be useful for one of us in terms of writing? Somewhere inspirational?’
‘Great idea,’ Allie said enthusiastically. ‘We can scout out locations for your grand romantic gestures!’
‘Steady on,’ grumbled Martin. ‘I was thinking more a bunch of roses and maybe a new scarf from John Lewis.’
Allie rolled her eyes. ‘Roses and scarves are neither going to save your marriage nor me from the clutches of Jake Matthews. Bigger, Martin, you need to think bigger!’
Allie’s phone sprung into life and she grabbed it from the table, still hoping it might be Verity telling her it was all a big joke, or that Jake had made a mistake and that Verity was still going to be Allie’s editor at Brinkman’s. Or even better that Jake had met with a nasty accident and that…
‘Shit,’ she declared, seeing the alert. Martin raised an eyebrow. ‘My sister,’ Allie explained, ‘I’m supposed to be meeting her and if I don’t get going I’ll be late. Martha doesn’t do late.’
‘Are you going to tell her what’s happened?’
Allie thought for a moment. ‘I think I’ll explain about Verity leaving,’ she paused, ‘but I don’t think I’ll tell her about us .’
Martin raised his eyebrow.
‘Ugh, Jesus, Martin. You know what I mean.’
‘I do,’ he said, laughing. ‘It’s OK, I’ve never managed to do the sleazy older man thing, or wanted to, I should clarify.’
‘Good,’ Allie said decisively, ‘because it’s wrong and disgusting and simply plays into the power dynamics of the patriarchy.’
‘Oh that’s a good line,’ Martin declared, obviously impressed. ‘Can you make sure I can use that in my plot? I’m imagining a DI who has clawed her way up the rungs of the Met, despite the inherent and systemic sexist attitudes. And who is now determined to crack the case that none of her cisgender, white, male, overweight, insert many other stereotypes, colleagues have managed to.’
Allie clapped her hands in delight, ‘Martin this is excellent, see how far you’ve come in just one session?’
‘Alright, no need to patronise me.’
Allie laughed. ‘Sorry, but seriously, you’ve already come up with a lead character, that’s amazing!’
Martin gave in and grinned. ‘This could be fun, don’t you think?’
Allie nodded. ‘And I hope you don’t take it the wrong way, about me not telling people about this? I would just rather keep it to myself for the moment. Between my sister and my friends they have A LOT of opinions, and I don’t think I need to hear them right now.’
‘A lot of opinions?’ Martin looked wryly at her. ‘Sounds as if you have much in common.’
Allie narrowed her eyes in response.
‘Agreed,’ he said, ‘we keep this to ourselves for the time being.’