Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
A llie stared at her laptop through teary eyes and read back over the words she had written so far. The tears weren’t because it was bad, in fact, objectively, she could appreciate that it may well be the best thing she had ever written. It was warm and witty, she’d captured the original romance through a series of emotional flashbacks and the juxtaposition with the failing marriage of the present day was really quite moving to read. But neither were her tears the result of being moved by the emotional depth of the story; they were the hot, shameful tears of realisation that nothing could change the fact that it wasn’t her story to tell, and she hadn’t asked permission from Martin or Angie to tell it. And she hadn’t told Will, either that she knew his dad or more to the point, was writing the story of his parents marriage. She bit her lip, viciously wiped under each eye and minimised the tab. She knew she should delete it, she knew she had told Will that she would, but she just needed a little more time to come to terms with the fact she was about to consign the best writing of her career to the oblivion of her MacBook trash can.
‘Ugh,’ she groaned and stretched and pushed her laptop away. Allie had been staring at it for hours, ever since coming back from Will’s flat that morning. It hadn’t gone well, but he hadn’t actually ended things, he hadn’t told her that he never wanted to see her again, so perhaps it wasn’t completely stupid to hold out some hope that Will would take the time he needed to process the fact that while she had been economical with the truth, it didn’t need to be that big a deal. Except it was, it really was, and she knew it. She groaned again and tried to ignore the sensation of nausea rising inside her. Not only had she screwed things up with Will, the only guy in a stream of many, many guys, who she actually liked. Not just liked, but really really liked. But she also now had absolutely no manuscript to share with Snake Eyes Jake, no word from Tessa that she might be about to save her skin, and no Martin to help her out with her writing. How had she let it all go so horribly wrong when just last night it had been going so wonderfully well? Images flashed through her brain, memories of the way Will had pulled her through his front door before she’d even finished ringing the doorbell. His hands all over her, his breath hot on her neck. The way she had pushed him backwards towards his bedroom, confident and insistent on what she wanted, what she needed. She could still feel him on her body, the sensation of her hands running through his hair, and she put her head down on her desk in despair at the realization of how badly she had messed up, and that no matter how angry Will was with her, it wasn’t going to change the way she felt about him. She was still going to want him, still going to need him. Her phone beeped at her and she narrowed her eyes, wondering whether whoever was calling was about to heap misery on her predicament or assuage the pain. And the only person she knew who could do the latter would be Will, calling to tell her he had thought it all through and that he totally understood, he still fancied the pants off her and that he had talked things over with his parents and they were all totally chill about her using their story. She picked her phone up and read the name, ‘Maybe: Verity Montagu-Forbes.’
‘Verity?’ Allie asked in surprise as she picked the phone up. ‘Is that you?’ Verity still hadn’t used her new number to communicate with Allie since the whole Brinkman’s debacle. For the most part she used Richard’s phone, but once or twice she had used a completely different number, which led Allie to wonder whether Verity was using a string of burner phones and also whether she was taking this NDA a little too seriously.
‘Allie, hi!’ It sounded like Verity, and the call was indeed coming from a number that said it was ‘maybe’ her. But Allie hadn’t heard Verity talk in a tone louder than a whisper, even when she was using someone else’s phone, in weeks.
‘Are you sure it’s you?’ Allie asked suspiciously.
‘What? Yes of course it’s me. Are you OK?’
‘Am I OK? You’re the one who should be answering that question!’
‘Why?’
Allie grimaced. Obviously she was pleased that Verity seemed more like her usual self, but it was as if she had returned with a side order of amnesia, not recalling any part of the subterfuge she had engaged in over the last few weeks. Allie didn’t have the strength to explain this. ‘No reason, what’s up?’
‘Jake…’ Verity left the name hanging there, leaving Allie wondering if she had imagined every event of recent times.
‘Erm, OK. What about him?’
‘I think we’ve got him.’ Verity did a little squeal of nervous excitement which made Allie smile, it was so heartwarming to hear Verity’s proper voice again.
‘How?’ Allie demanded. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Tessa’s going to do it!’
‘She is?! Tell me everything. ’
‘There’s this insta account, a publishing insider account? Like the Gossip Girl of the book world.’ Allie had heard of it, had seen some of the posts before – calling out bad behaviour, suspect practices, evil corporate machines, the usual.
‘Right. Oh god, don’t tell me, the person behind it is actually Jake?’
‘What? No! Allie, that would be insane. He’s one of the prime targets of this account, not the instigator.’
‘Yeah, course.’ But Allie had already drifted off into a daydream where Jake was unmasked as the Dan Humphrey of the publishing world. Except without Serena Van Der Woodsen on his arm. In reality it wasn’t a very satisfying daydream, Allie would prefer one in which Jake got his comeuppance, rather than being outed as the outsider trying to instigate change.
‘Allie, are you listening to me?’
‘Yes!’ protested Allie. ‘Instagram, Gossip Girl . I’m all over this Verity.’
‘Hmm,’ Verity didn’t sound convinced. ‘OK, well anyway, I know the person who runs this account, and before you ask, don’t bother, I’m never going to disclose their true identity and I won’t say any more other than to tell you that you would be VERY surprised to find out who they really are.’
Allie didn’t think she actually would be. Other than Verity, her agent Mary Beth, who Allie could say with an absolute degree of certainty was not involved, and some of the sales and publicity people at Brinkman’s, she didn’t really know many people at all in publishing. So the only people she would be surprised to find out it was were Verity or Jake, which brought her back to her previous daydream.
‘Allie!’ It was as if Verity could read her thoughts. ‘Concentrate, this is the exciting bit. So, Tessa gets in touch with this “ friend ” of mine and tells her everything she knows about Jake. And Allie, it’s good, I mean obviously it’s not good, it’s completely horrific and he’s a terrible terrible man, but it’s exactly what we need to bring him down!’
‘But now what? What can we do with it now?’
‘She’s going to go public! Or as public as naming and shaming a publishing executive can get. Let’s be realistic, it’s not like the tabloids are going to be clamouring for the story. But my “friend” has persuaded Tessa that she needs to speak out and that if she does, lots of people will support her. We’ve already heard rumours that other people are ready to speak too, if Tessa does.’
‘Wow, that’s great.’
‘I know!’ Verity’s voice was breathless with excitement. ‘Tessa has asked for a meeting with the CEO of Brinkman’s, apparently it’s going to happen tomorrow! Which means… Allie?’ Verity’s tone switched. ‘Your wow, didn’t sound very WOW! What’s going on?’
‘Nothing, it’s great, I’m really thrilled for you.’
‘Right, well you should be. Because I’m hoping they’ll offer me my job back.’
‘Oh wow! I mean proper wow this time! Honestly Verity this is great news. I’m so thrilled for both you and Tessa.’
‘And what about you?’
‘What about me?’ Allie asked in confusion.
‘Allie, if I get my job back, it will mean I’ll be your editor again! We can work together on your new book!’
There was a long pause. ‘About that…’
‘About what?’ Verity’s voice tightened. ‘Allie?’ she said warningly. ‘I thought you said you were writing again? I thought you said we had nothing to worry about on that front.’
‘We don’t! I mean, we didn’t. I mean… I’m kind of back to square one,’ Allie admitted.
‘Explain to me, in publishing terms, what you mean by square one? Back at first draft stage? First read through? Needs more structural editing?’ Verity’s voice was now firmly on shrill mode.
‘I mean…’ Allie dropped her voice to shamefaced volume. ‘Back to an empty screen.’
There was a muffled scream and a clatter from the other end of the line.
‘Verity?’ Allie asked in concern. ‘Are you OK?’ Images swept through Allie’s mind of Jake Matthews having stumbled upon their clandestine, non-NDA-abiding conversation and wreaking his manic revenge.
‘Allie!’ screamed Verity, in a now very much not muffled tone. ‘You promised me! You promised me you were writing again. Oh my god, I thought we’d fixed everything. Tessa agreeing to do one on Jake Matthews, me maybe getting my job back. And then you go and drop this shitshell.’
‘Erm what’s a shitshell?’ Allie felt compelled to ask, knowing full well that she probably wouldn’t like the answer.
‘Like a bombshell,’ shrieked Verity angrily, ‘just stinkier and more messy. Exactly like this revelation you have just lobbed at me.’
‘I’m sorry,’ moaned Allie. ‘I feel like I’ve ruined your celebratory moment.’
‘Yeah well don’t expect me to disavow you of that opinion. But what the hell happened or were you just lying to me?’
‘I wasn’t lying! I had been writing. I have been writing. Oh and Verity,’ Allie moaned again, ‘it’s really good. I mean, it needs your expertise of course, but I feel like it’s one of the best books I’ve ever written.’
Verity interrupted. ‘I don’t understand, what part of this explains the fact you now have no manuscript? Oh god, you didn’t back up, did you? Allie! For god’s sake, how many times do I have to tell you? I thought you’d learned your lesson after losing those six chapters?’
‘I haven’t lost it! It’s right here in front of me.’
‘So why is your screen blank!’ Verity blurted.
‘Metaphorically.’
‘I’m sorry, what?’ Verity sounded as if she was about to completely lose her grasp on reality.
‘I’ve written it. But you can’t publish it.’
There was a pause and then Verity sighed the sigh of an editor who had been here many times before with nervous, overwrought writers and was used to knowing how to grapple with the sensitive creative types. ‘Of course we can. Allie we’ve been here before. I know it feels like it’s not publishable right now. But you just said, it’s your best work to date. We can do the edit together. I promise we’ll get it to just where you want it to be before we publish it.’
‘No, I mean, you can never publish it. It’s not my story to tell. I stole it.’
‘Freaking what now?! Allie! You know that’s illegal right? You know plagiarism is like, really, really bad? But you said it was good?’ There was a pause. ‘So, whose is it? And do they have an agent I can speak to?’
Despite everything, Allie smiled, Verity was always on the lookout for the next big thing. ‘It’s Martin Clark’s story. Well, his and his wife’s.’
There was a long pause before Verity exhaled in relief. ‘Oh, I get it! Look, I know you feel he helped you write it. But you helped him with his right? It’s just part of your deal. It’s all your own words. It is all your own words, right?’
‘Yeah, it is. But it’s Martin and Angie’s marriage, as in their story. And he doesn’t know I’ve written it like that.’
There was a sharp intake of breath from Verity. ‘You didn’t tell him? You didn’t ask?’ Allie didn’t need to respond to these questions, Verity was just busy confirming things in her own mind before launching into damage control mode. ‘OK OK. Well look, maybe he wouldn’t mind? I mean you did say it was the best writing you’d ever done. Maybe he and his wife would like their love story immortalised?’
‘Would you like me to write about you and Richard, without telling you I was doing it first?’ Allie asked incredulously.
‘Well no. I mean, I guess not. It’s quite the deception, isn’t it?’
‘Alright, don’t rub it in. It gets worse.’
It was Verity’s turn to sound incredulous. ‘You’ve stolen someone else’s love story and you no longer have a manuscript for me to edit. Please explain how this can get any worse?’
‘Will is Martin’s son.’
‘What?! Will as in hot waiter is Martin’s son? Do they know?’
‘Well yes, Verity, I should imagine they do know that they’re related.’ Allie couldn’t resist with the sarcasm.
‘You know very well what I mean.’
‘They do now. I came clean to Will this morning.’
‘And? How did he take it?’
‘The overriding sense I got from him was one of confusion.’
‘OK, confusion’s not bad. We can live with confusion.’
‘But then I told him I had written about his parents’ marriage…’
‘Go on…’
‘And then it went from confusion to … well, if I was going to put a sentiment on it I’d go for sadness. And if I was allowed a second sentiment, I’d pick betrayal.’
‘Oh god, sad betrayal. The worst.’
‘I know, right?’
‘Couldn’t he at least be angry at you?’
‘Well, he may well be at the angry stage by now. It was a few hours ago.’ Allie shook her head sadly. ‘Although, to be honest, I was hoping he’d skip the angry stage and just decide he liked me enough to overlook my massive error of judgement.’
‘Oh Allie. You really like him, don’t you?’
‘Yup.’ Allie bit back a sob which had been slowly creeping its way up inside her ever since she had left Will’s flat that morning, and which she had, with ever decreasing success, been trying to suppress by telling herself that everything was fine and of course Will would understand.
‘He’s not going to skip over it, is he?’
Verity sighed. ‘Babe, I honestly don’t know. You’ll have a better read on it than I will. But if I were you, I’d go apologise again. Or, I don’t know, make one of those grand romantic gestures you put in all your novels.’
Allie smiled wanly. ‘Not sure that’s going to cut it this time. Didn’t I tell you I’ve stopped believing in happy-ever-afters? I so should have seen this coming.’
‘Hey, you don’t know it’s over till he tells you. Come on, you’ve got to fight for this. And by the way, while you’re busy planning whatever grand romantic gesture is going to win him over, maybe you could also write a novel about it? If I do get my job back we’re going to be on a serious deadline to get your next one published on time. But if you’re going to do that, ask him first ,’ she said firmly.
Allie wiped her eyes with one hand. ‘Didn’t you hear me? I’ve stopped believing in romance. Can’t I go and write that serial killer thriller?’
‘No,’ Verity steadfastly replied.
‘Why not?’ whined Allie.
‘Because in case you’ve forgotten, you gave that idea to Martin. So, unless you want to go explain to him that you want your idea back and in return you can swap him the story of his marriage, which you stealth wrote, you’re going to need to go back to the romance drawing board.’
‘But I can’t!’ protested Allie.
‘You can. Just write what you know.’
Allie stared daggers at her phone, feeling unheard and dismissed.
‘Right. Well look, let’s look on the bright side.’ This positivity was what made Verity such a good editor and such a good person, but right now it was also about to get her slapped by Allie who was just grateful that they were not having this conversation in person and so she didn’t have to add ‘buy editor some flowers to apologise for the slapping’ to her crowded schedule.
‘This is a kind of good news/bad news situation here. So, I need to go work on the good news part, and you need to go fix the bad news. Oh, and by the way, something else you should know … Tessa said you’re the person who inspired her to go public.’
‘She did?’
‘Yes. Apparently your speech about doing the right thing hit a nerve with her. So, Allie? Don’t let me down, and don’t let Tessa down. Just write the damn book, and do the right thing. I believe in you.’
The line went dead and Allie wrinkled her nose in frustration. Verity was right, she needed to do the right thing and write this damn book and it was always best to write what you knew. But Allie wasn’t sure what she knew anymore, other than that writing Martin and Angie’s story without prior permission was definitely not the right thing. She stared morosely out into her garden and caught the eye of a judgemental robin which was out there terrorising the worms. He cocked his head at her and she tried to look away. It was bad enough being called out by Verity, she didn’t need half the wildlife of west London jumping on the bandwagon. She leaned forward and banged on the window repeatedly. The robin startled and flew off, which, surprisingly, didn’t make Allie feel any better about the situation she found herself in. Grand romantic gestures … write what you know. She stood and paced the kitchen, stopping to put the kettle back onto boil and dumping yet another tea bag in her mug. She ran through her conversation with Will once again, the look in his eyes when he had realised what she had done, the feelings she got when she understood she might have ruined it all. The empty space she felt yawning open when she thought about not seeing him again. By the time the kettle had boiled, the tea had brewed and Allie was sat back at her laptop, she felt the beginnings of an idea starting to percolate through her brain.