Chapter 34
Heather
Heather had been sorely tempted to shirk off with Constance and Ros to see if they could spot the sharks, but the lure of Maggie Macken’s office and archives was too strong.
In the end, she had to work hard to convince them that she was actually going to enjoy her morning pottering about in the office.
To be fair, she had already sent across the full list of Maggie’s published books.
She didn’t tell the literary agency that the published work was only a drop in the ocean of the papers that were still to be sorted.
Maggie Macken had by any standards been a prolific novelist, but it surprised Heather to learn that she had also penned notebooks filled with poetry and a great many number of plays for both the stage and the radio.
Regardless of what Constance decided to do with Ocean’s End, there was no denying that Maggie Macken had left a huge cache of intellectual property in the office.
Heather stood now in the centre of the room. A few days earlier, Ros had insisted on cleaning out the chimney. Surprisingly, thanks to the fact that at some point many years earlier a nest had blocked up the top of it, it was actually a much easier job than they had expected.
God, but she loved it here. The thought came to her out of nowhere, but really, once it settled on her, she knew it was the truth.
It was a combination of the place, the people, the house and of course the work.
Maybe it was a connection too with her own mother.
After all, she somehow felt closer to her here than she had in a very long time indeed.
It was with that lingering notion that she was brought sharply back into reality with the pealing sound of her phone ringing out. It was a London number, she noticed, before she answered.
‘Hi, Heather Banks?’
‘Yes?’
‘Hey, it’s Wesley McVeigh here, I’m…’ But she knew exactly who he was. He owned the literary agency that were currently debating taking on the Maggie Macken estate.
‘You’re Gregg’s boss?’
‘Well, I wouldn’t say… we work together, sure…’ He paused. ‘You’ve really caused quite the stir here with the Macken estate.’
‘I’m only the lackey.’ She smiled.
‘We’re very interested in representing the estate. Of course, we’d need to meet with the current owners, but I think I can safely say we could do great things with this.’
‘The owner is Maggie’s daughter. She’s not here at the moment and I’m not sure she’s going to be up for flying over to London, but I can certainly put it to her, or maybe she could give you a call when she gets back?’
‘If she’s Maggie Macken’s daughter, I presume she’s not a young woman.’ He was being diplomatic.
‘She’s a very youthful lady of a certain age, if that’s what you’re asking, but she lives here in the house where most of the books were written. It’s on an island off the west coast of Ireland, so it’s quite a trek. I don’t know when she was last in London, to be honest with you.’
Actually, Heather had a feeling that the furthest Constance had ever travelled was as far as Dublin and that was many moons ago, but that was neither here nor there. If they were really up for sitting down and having a chat, they could just as easily come here, couldn’t they?
‘Your outlining submission was very impressive,’ Wesley said and it sounded as if he was thumbing through the pages as he spoke.
‘It’s easy to be impressive when you’re talking about Maggie’s books.’ It probably helped that she’d read most of them too and, unlike people who actually worked in publishing, she could spend all her time on just one submission.
‘It really comes across on the page that you know them inside out, your passion is…’ He delayed his next words as if praise did not come easily from him. ‘Well, I’m a long time in this business, and I suppose I see so many people who just view these estates as a job, rather than a passion.’
‘Thank you.’ It was a compliment and Heather found herself blushing.
It had been too long since anyone told her she’d done a good job.
‘I adore the books. I’ve read quite a few of them at this point and there’s a family connection, so perhaps that makes me more invested.
’ Actually, what was making her really invested was the idea that if they could make something of the estate, it might be the saving of Ocean’s End and peace of mind for Constance.
‘So, this is not your job?’
‘Oh no!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m just here on holiday. I live, well, I lived in London and I’m sort of between things, you might say.’ It was the truth, she had nothing else to do with her time at the moment.
‘Well, if you haven’t already thought about it, you might consider it,’ he said.
‘Consider what?’
‘Working on the estate, you know? These things have a tendency to become monsters if they aren’t managed from the start. Of course, we’ll do our bit here, with contracts and as much as you want, but the most successful estates are managed on the ground as well.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Well, you know, you could think about setting up a board of trustees to support the estate. It means making decisions about how to move forward, keeping a second eye on contracts and royalties and any other opportunities that might come our way.’
‘I think that would be a conversation you’d need to have with Constance. Really, as I say, I’m just the bottle-washer,’ she answered.
‘It’s not something that has to be set out immediately, at any rate, but these are conversations that need to be had.
We’re talking about a potentially very valuable estate and if, as you say, Constance Macken is of a certain age, then there will be questions on any publisher’s lips as to what happens when she’s no longer here,’ he said.
His voice was soft, perhaps he was trying to be delicate, but Heather simply did not want to think about a time when Constance was not shuffling about the kitchen in Ocean’s End.
By the time Constance arrived back from her trip with Ros, Heather felt as if her head was spinning with possibilities for the future of the Maggie Macken estate.
‘Ooh, it sounds very posh when you say it like that,’ Constance said when Heather had relayed the phone call with Wesley.
‘So, what does that mean, a board of trustees?’ Ros asked as she went about potting up some slips she’d taken from the garden earlier in the day. ‘Will Constance have to give her rights over to people she hardly knows?’
‘No, not at all. It’s up to Constance to decide what it is she wants to do, but Wesley’s point was that there will be quite a bit to manage on the ground in terms of royalties and contracts and making decisions about the future of the Maggie Macken brand.
He thinks a good publisher will want to see that there’s long-term continuity when it comes to managing the whole thing. ’
‘What she means is, Ros, I’m a little old lady and I won’t be around forever.’
‘Stop it, Constance, don’t say that,’ Ros said softly.
‘Sorry, Constance, but yes, that’s sort of what he was saying. For a publisher, especially if they offer a big advance, this is business. It’s about investing in something with an eye on the return.’
‘For us too, though,’ Constance said thoughtfully.
Then she looked from one to the other. ‘Oh, come on now, we all know I’ve had a good innings, but I won’t be here forever.
My mother, on the other hand, her work could go on for decades yet, for generations, and that’s what she always wanted. Isn’t it what we all want?’
‘I suppose,’ Ros said begrudgingly, as if the having of one meant the sacrificing of the other.
‘I for one would sleep a lot more soundly knowing that everything was sorted out once and for all.’ Constance smiled at Ros and then turned her attention to Heather. ‘Let’s get the ball rolling, shall we?’