Page 68 of A Summer of New Beginnings
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Tuesday morning arrived and Zara sat in her office with the door closed. She tapped her fingers on her desk and waited for the display on her phone to show nine o’clock. Her heart was trying to escape through her blouse and her palms were sweaty. She was about to call and confirm her attendance at the most exciting event of her life. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
The telephone numberwas already programmed into her phone to save her fumbling to dial and when the time came she hit the call button, inhaling a deep breath that was meant to calm her racing pulse but did the opposite.
‘Original Fiction Association, how may I direct your call?’
‘Oh… erm… hello, is it possible to speak to Dominic McAllen, please?’
‘I’m sorry but Mr McAllen doesn’t take direct calls without a telephoneappointment. Can I put you through to his secretary so you can arrange that?’
Zara cleared her throat. ‘Oh, erm, yes, please.’ She realised she must sound ridiculous.Come on, Bailey, you can do this. Just be professional and calm.
‘Hold the line.’ Click. A ballad she recognised by the band Sonic Idols played over the airwaves as she waited to be connected.
A voice snatched her from her daydreamabout the long-haired rock star she had hunted for in the Highlands. ‘Hello, this is Sandy, secretary to Mr McAllen. How may I help you?’
‘Oh, yes. Hello, my name is Zara Bailey and—’
‘Ah yes, Miss Bailey, lovely to hear from you. Are you calling to confirm your attendance at the OFALA?’
She was stunned into silence for a moment when the secretary knew her name. ‘Oh… yes, that’s right. Sorry,I’m still a bit shocked that my book was shortlisted.’
‘Ah, well, believe it, Miss Bailey. We can’t wait to meet you. The whole office was captivated by your book.New Beginningsis such a wonderful titleandconcept. We all just adored it.’
‘That’s wonderful to hear. Thank you. I honestly didn’t think it was good enough. I would never have sent it in myself.’
‘Oh, you didn’t submit the book?’
Zara laughed. ‘No, I wouldn’t have had the courage. It was my erm…friend. He sent it in. I guess he has more faith in me than I have in myself.’
‘Oh, I see.’ There was a pause where the whirring of thinking cogs was almost audible. ‘Well, there may be a slight problem, then. I’m afraid this now classes as a third-party submission.’
Zara frowned, not quite sure what that meant. ‘Okay. Does thatmake much difference?’
The secretary sighed. ‘I’m afraid it makes a big difference, Miss Bailey. The thing is… We don’t accept third-party submissions. There has clearly been an oversight somewhere. Your own signature needs to be on the form.’
Shit.‘Oh, right. I see. Well, in that case could you forward me a form to my email address and I’ll sign it and get it straight back to you?’
‘I’m sosorry but that won’t be possible. It would have to be sent as a new entry and the deadline for entries has now lapsed.’
Zara’s heart sank. ‘I see. And there’s no way round it?’
‘To be honest, no third-party submissions have ever slipped through the net to this point as the entry requirements are quite strict and very clear. I’m a little stumped.’ She sighed heavily and it sounded like a gale-forcewind in Zara’s ear. ‘Okay, I think I need to discuss this with Mr McAllen and come back to you. Is that okay, Miss Bailey?’
‘Yes, that’s fine. But please,pleasepass on my sincerest apologies to Mr McAllen. The last thing I wanted to do was waste anyone’s time.’ Her voice cracked and she closed her eyes. ‘The fact that you all loved my book is a dream come true. The fact that you were preparedto shortlist me for such a prestigious award is beyond amazing. And knowing that it could all be taken away from me is just heart breaking. I’m so very sorry.’
‘Leave it with me, Miss Bailey.’ Sandy’s voice was tinged with sympathy. ‘I promise I’ll be in touch as soon as possible. And, Miss Bailey, thank you for your honesty. It must have been a very difficult thing to hear. It’s clear from speakingto you how much this all meant.’
Zara said goodbye and ended the call as tears spilled over from her eyes and she rested her head in her hands.
*
Every time her phone pinged with a message Zara jumped. But none of the messages were from Original Fiction Association. Her dream was slipping away and she was powerless to stop it. What made it worse was that it wasn’t a dream she should even behaving. Why hadn’t Josh spoken to her about it first? Maybe he could have convinced her to submit it herself? Just before she was about to head off home her mobile rang and the name on screen showed it was the Original Fiction Association office.
Nervously, with shaking hands, she hit the ‘answer call’ button. ‘Hello, Zara Bailey speaking.’
‘Zara, hi, it’s Dominic McAllen here. I’m sorry it’staken so long to come back to you. Let’s just say it’s been a hell of a hectic day.’
‘Oh, yes, that’s understandable.’
‘Now… I firstly wanted to say thank you for your honesty over the business with your book. I have to say I’ve not met many with your integrity, especially when something so big is at stake. How it slipped through the net has foxed us all, to be honest. I’ve a mind to fire someoneover this once I find out how it happened. Anyway, I called a board meeting to discuss the matter and many people were on your side over the situation. Including myself.’ Zara’s stomach fluttered in anticipation and she tried not to let hope spark anew as he continued, ‘And I hope that you now know how much talent you have. But – and I say this with an incredibly heavy heart, Zara – we can’tbend the rules. So I’m afraid we can’t accept your novel into the shortlist.’
Her heart broke as she listened and silent tears trickled down her face. ‘However, what I will say is, please do submit to the awards next year. I feel that you could have a very promising future. But it won’t be fromthisround of awards, sadly. We’re not accepting any further submissions just now as we prepare forthe ceremony. The shortlist is to be made public at the start of September and the awards, as you know, take place in October, meaning this is a very busy time for the company. I know this isn’t what you hoped to hear, Zara, and I have to say I’m so disappointed on your behalf. But I genuinely do mean this: you are averytalented writer, and I really do hope to hear from you in the future.’
She inhaled deeply and smiled – she was always taught that people could hear a smile over the phone. ‘Thank you so much for your call, Mr McAllen. I really do appreciate your kind words. Goodbye.’
‘Goodbye, Zara.’
