Page 2 of Knowing You
‘Trixie – Beatrix – is heading up a new imprint calledOut There Stories,’ says Lenny quickly.
Trixie? Imagine being on such familiar terms with your professional idol.
‘So I hear. Congratulations. It all sounds very exciting.’ I’d registered Beatrix’s name with Google Alerts years ago. I was in awe of how quickly she was climbing the publishing ladder. Whenever a new intern starts at Thoth, I always tell them to follow her blog. She’s especially supportive of raising the profile of female authors, and frequently runs competitions for giving feedback on women writers’ work. ‘When exactly does it launch?’
‘In September. I’m looking for some really stand out novels to make an impact,’ she says without looking at me. She glances at Lenny instead and picks up her phone, punching at it with polished nails that look more like claws.
I stand waiting for Lenny to say something. Why is this encounter so stilted? I still don’t understand why they’ve met up for lunch and how they know each other so well.
He shuffles in his seat. ‘Beatrix loves Casey Wilde,’ he blurts out as if to fill the silence.
What? Lenny’s shown an editor the manuscript he’s been most excited about in ages? Wilde is one of his agency’s new authors whose book would be perfect for Beatrix’s new imprint. But it’s not out on submission yet and Lenny could get into trouble.
Her shoulders relax and she looks up. ‘It’s been a real honour to have a look at her work before it’s quite ready for submission.Alien Heartsis a romantic masterpiece. And feminist. It’s completely captured the emotions behind the Time’s Up movement.’
I still can’t believe Beatrix has enjoyed a pre-submission sneak peek. Lenny and I routinely let each other look at manuscripts not yet in the public arena, but that’s just for the joy of reading and is kept strictly between us.
‘I was almost in tears when I read that last chapter,’ I say. ‘It’s incredibly sad when the alien is forced to kill the man she’s fallen in love with.’
‘I don’t know anyone who’s kept a dry eye during those final paragraphs,’ says Lenny enthusiastically. ‘Just imagine it as a film. Jennifer Lawrence would smash playing the lead.’
‘I cried too,’ says Beatrix. ‘Tears of joy at the money Alpaca Books and Casey Wilde are going to make.’ She looks at her watch and back at Lenny.
‘Well, best of luck withOut There Stories,’ I say brightly. ‘And it would be great to see you at Thoth’s twentieth birthday party in a few months. We’ve posted over one hundred invitations. I hope you received yours. It’s all rather exciting.’
The invitations were written in scroll fashion and sent out in cardboard tubes thanks to Thoth Publishing’s name having Ancient Egyptian origins. We’d booked a boutique hotel called Anubis opposite Hyde Park. Hoping that the party would raise the company’s profile, Felicity had provided a more than decent budget.
However, Beatrix doesn’t appear to have heard and taps on her phone again.
‘I’ll ring you later,’ says Lenny with an apologetic look as I turn to leave.
Chapter 2
‘You’ve hardly said a word since you got back from lunch. Shall I take you to A & E?’ Irfan smiles and points to his watch. I give the thumbs up. In ten minutes, our meeting with author Gary Smith should begin. I put my jumper on the right way and focus again on my screen. Something about my encounter with Beatrix was definitely off. I’m still a little flummoxed as to why Lenny’s never mentioned meeting her.
I decide to search on Twitter for clues, although I don’t really know what I’m looking for. I log in and visit her feed. I scroll through the tweets about new authors’ books, recently signed deals and publishing jokes. Then a couple from a few weeks ago catch my attention. Beatrix sent Lenny a humorous meme about acquiring new authors. He replied with a dancing alien gif.
I scroll further back to find more innocuous tweets that wouldn’t merit a second glance to anyone else. What piques my interest is the occasional one that has nothing to do with work. I pick up my phone and open Instagram. I’ve only posted twenty-two photos in six months and haven’t looked at friends’ pictures since Christmas. I go to Lenny’s page. He posts at least a couple a day. I skim the images of fancy food, book covers and launches.
I’m just about to log out when I spot a selfie of him and Beatrix. I screw up my eyes and stare at the surroundings. It’s the cafe at Waterstones Piccadilly that looks more like a restaurant and is a favourite venue for book launches. Yet this snap strikes me as so personal. Lenny’s arm is around her shoulders and they’re cheek-to-cheek as if taking part in some intimate dance.
I take in her statement necklace, the perfect scarlet lipstick and matching nails. For the first time, I detail her appearance instead of her achievements. I take a deep breath and exit the app, observing how my nails looked stubby and cracked. Twenty minutes have passed and Gary hasn’t arrived. Irfan and I head to the side room regardless. It’s always been my dream to help writers realise theirs. When I was little, Uncle Kevin told me I could achieve whatever I wanted. I finger the silver book pendant around my neck that he gave me before he moved to New York.
I follow Irfan through the office and my eyes stray to the huge windows on the left. Fat snowflakes tumble through the air like polystyrene loose fill, as if I’m in a snow globe turned inside out. Kath won’t be pleased. Her shoulder still isn’t right since slipping on ice last month. I’ll pop in after work to see if she’s dared to venture out.
I push open the door and we enter the small room. I’ve already set out a selection of biscuits and the coffee is brewing. We sit down in the comfortable chairs and I slip a small circle of shortbread into my mouth. Whilst Irfan sorts through his paperwork, my thoughts are pulled back to Lenny and Beatrix.
It’s like when I read an author’s first draft and haven’t yet pinpointed exactly what isn’t right.
Irfan sighs and stares at the sweet treats. He pats the stomach that his doctor thinks needs to be smaller. ‘I could do with cheering up since Farah’s decided to tackle my diabetes risk and put me on a health kick.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ve just the thing for you.’ I stand up and reach for a plate next to the coffee pot. ‘Gary said that he’s also under doctor’s orders to change his diet, remember?’ I put down a platter of neatly lined up vegetable sticks and dip. ‘I got these just in case he doesn’t want biscuits.’
‘I might say something rude if I wasn’t full of admiration – as usual – for your attention to detail.’
I like Irfan, as well as computer consultant Farah. Sometimes she meets him after work for a meal out or theatre trip. Now and again they invite me over for dinner. She makes the best onion bhajis. They melt in the mouth. I make them laugh with my lack of faith in dishwashers and insistence that I clean the plates by hand. Sometimes after work I’ll take them for coffee. Farah and I drink ours unadulterated black while Irfan enjoys indulgent creations like hazelnut lattes. We pick her brain about computer problems. An avid reader, Farah asks us about Thoth’s latest acquisitions.
The two of them look like a good match as much as Lenny and I don’t. They both dress down for work in jeans, love musicals and spend holidays hiking in the wild.
