Page 14 of Knowing You
‘First up, I just want to say how grateful I am to you two. It’s been quite a journey, this publishing lark, and you’ve both made me feel so at ease.’
This sounds like a goodbye. I don’t understand. We’ve just drawn up a second contract after talks with his agent.
‘It’s thrilling to work with you,’ I say.
‘Yes, the support we’re getting from retailers and the independents is fantastic,’ says Irfan.
We’ve invested a lot of our time in this author who needed instructing, from scratch, about keeping his writing tight and adding emotion, about marketing and social media platforms. Nothing pleases us more than seeing all that hard work pay off.
‘Thank you, but I won’t be re-signing.’ He takes another mouthful of coffee.
I take off my glasses. ‘Gary, we have big plans for you. Have you discussed this with your agent?’
‘It’s my decision,’ he says abruptly.
Irfan rubs a hand across his forehead. ‘I don’t understand. Your debut is doing so well. We saw this as just the beginning of a very successful career. Like Violet says, we’ve got the next two years mapped out with strategies to take your career forwards.’
‘And I really appreciate the opportunity you gave me when no one else would take a chance. However, I’ve decided to sign with Alpaca Books.’
I flinch. ‘Let’s talk about this. What can they offer that we can’t?’
‘I’ve met with Beatrix Bingham a couple of times – if you remember, she was at my launch.’
Irfan and I exchange glances.
‘She introduced me to Alpaca’s children’s fiction editor. Beatrix reckons within the year I could give up my day job.’
I’m speechless. So is Irfan for a second before he does his best sales pitch for Thoth. Poaching other publisher’s authors happens, but more discreetly than this – and not by making unsubstantiated promises. Children’s fiction isn’t even Beatrix’s area of expertise. As for Gary, Irfan and I have seen this before. A debut author has some success and develops a sense of entitlement that feeds their ego. They don’t understand that to grow and maintain a long-term career takes time and that one hit guarantees nothing.
When Gary leaves, Irfan heads for his desk, angry. For him, this means sharpening his pencils with vigour. I pick up the bin and brush the shavings into it as he calls Gary’s agent, who is equally unimpressed. Apart from anything else, he knows that his client’s naïve announcement could deter me and Irfan from giving his debut the continued attention it needs.
I try to lose myself in another author’s edits for the afternoon and finally pack up my things at five. I turn off the screen and stare at the blank rectangle, immediately missing the distraction of the words and cursor. I’ve worked so closely with Gary. Bolstered his confidence where I could. Felt so proud as I’ve watched his writing and promotional skills grow. But just like that, he’s cut ties. Just like Lenny.
I put on a lilac anorak and try not to think about this anymore, that it might be because of something I do, or something about the way I am. The weather is warmer now despite the rain and I’ve finally discarded my bobble hat. I step out of the lift. I blush as Hugo wolf-whistles and mouth at him to be quiet. Hugo complimented my new trousers yesterday. I had to buy them because I’ve gone down a dress size. At lunch all I could manage was a couple of the low-fat samosas Irfan brought in. The trousers are more fitted than my usual style. It’s the first time I’ve ever worn anything that isn’t completely comfy. That’s why I’ve never been a fan of stockings, high shoes or underwire bras, but I had to do something as much of my old wardrobe is now too baggy.
I head outside and go over to Irfan and Farah who are still hanging around, despite leaving fifteen minutes earlier. I take a deep breath and wish I could walk straight past.
‘I was just thinking about my lunch,’ I say to Farah. ‘You’re such a good cook. The spices in those samosas are so subtle.’
She gives me a hug. ‘That must be Irfan’s excuse for eating the lot – they were supposed to last a couple of days.’ She stares. ‘How are you doing? It seems like ages since I saw you at theBubbleslaunch. Have you been in contact with Lenny?’
Lenny. That word didn’t hurt quite so much as it did seven weeks ago. At first, similar words jumped out from everywhere I looked. Like the John Lennon album in the supermarket. The historical thriller a fellow editor was reading, featuring Lenin. Then there was the Lenny Kravitz concert poster stuck on the wall outside the train station.
‘No. I’ve unfriended him on Facebook, but photos mutual friends have taken come up on my newsfeed. It’s just as well I don’t go there very often.’
Farah raised her eyebrows.
‘They feature him and Beatrix out for meals or drinking or at publishing events.’
‘Glad I unfriended him too,’ she says.
‘And me,’ mumbles Irfan. He’s hardly said a word all afternoon.
‘We’ve been waiting – hoping you’ll come for coffee with us,’ says Farah and threads her arm though mine.
‘Please do,’ says Irfan. ‘I need help persuading Farah that there is no health scare big enough to warrant switching to soya milk.’
I manage a smile. ‘Sorry but I’ve got plans tonight.’
