Page 47 of A Good Heart is Hard to Find
Clearly, this was what happened when reviewers couldn’t resist looking at some of the non-literary dross that landed on their desks, and then they justhadto go into print to say howawful the experience of reading it was, so thousands of other people decided they wanted to share that experience too.
Isn’t that weird?
IfShock to the Spiritsdid well when it came out inApril (publication day having been brought forward due to all the publicity), hopefully my agent would be able to negotiate me a much better deal forLover, Come Back to Me.Then maybe I could take my nose off the treadmill occasionally, and not do humiliating things like Crypt-ograms any more.
I told Jane the news simply because she was there, a captive audience, but she was very sour grapes.Her only attempt at novel writing, bloodless as a vampire victim, had so far failed to find a publisher. Mind you, now she’d had a taste of passion she could try again.
By only lunchtime I was heartily sick of Jane.
This was partly because Jane got me like that, and partly because I was not used to sharing my house with anyone. (Not counting the visitations of Max, and I was even out of thehabit of those, now.)
Made me wonder if the status could ever be quo’d again.
‘There’s nothing in the fridge or freezer except pizza, white bread, fruit and peanut butter,’ Jane whined.
‘That’s my staple diet. Toast and peanut butter for breakfast, pizza for lunch, fruit any time.’
‘That sounds very unhealthy. And boring.’
‘It can’t be too unhealthy, because I feel fine. Glossy hair, shinynose.’
‘Pale as death. No colour in your cheeks.’
‘You know very well that I’ve always been pale.’
‘It doesn’tlookhealthy. Why don’t you use some blusher?’ she suggested.
‘Because I dare to be different, and at least I’vegotcheekbones. It must be such a puzzle for you to decide where yours are when you’re doing your make-up.’
‘All my bones are going to stand out a mile if I don’t getsome real food soon,’ she said pathetically.
‘They already do: you look like you’ve been constructed from coathangers. But if you want to go out and forage, feel free. Otherwise you’ll have to wait for tonight: I eat my dinner at the pub most evenings.’
‘I wonder how Max could stand it!’
‘He brought his own food and drink, and he liked the King’s Arms. It was one of the few public places wewent to together.’
It occurred to me that we were talking about him as if he was dead.
… the way his hair curled on the back of his neck, his stance, the way he moved … Yes, it was Sylvanus, his own dear self! thought Keturah, her heart leaping. Then he turned, those familiar hazel eyes a dead two-way mirror for the unspeakable evil that rode within him like a golem charioteer …
‘You couldat least keep some supplies in for visitors. I don’t like pizza, or peanut butter,’ Jane complained.
‘Tough titties, blossom: I didn’t invite you,’ I told her, but it was all water off a duck’s back to Jane.
She pouted like a little girl, and while pouting made Orla resemble Marilyn Monroe, Jane just looked like a very skinny fish.
‘If you’re interested, Max rang while you were asleep,’ shesaid casually now, smiling angelically as is her wont while doing the cat-and-mouse stuff.
‘What?’ I stared at her. ‘Why on earth didn’t you wake me? What did he say?’
‘Not much when he realized it was me and not you, except that the funeral is on Thursday. Oh, and he’s flying back to California on Saturday, so obviously he’s not planning on spending much time withyou, is he?’
‘Saturday?’I repeated like a parrot. Maybe it was just as wellI hadn’t spoken to him, because I was still trying to suppress conflicting urges to confess my descent into Dante’s inferno the other night, and to demand to know the truth about his relationship with Rosemary, and I was not one hundred per cent certain I’d got my mouth under control yet on either count.
‘Yes. He said he’d try and get over fora couple of hours on Friday if he could.’
‘Big of him,’ I said sourly. ‘Though maybe knowing you’re staying here put him off?’
