Lizzy Harrison Loses Control (34 page)

‘Lizzy Harrison,’ he says, with great seriousness. ‘Are you putting the moves on me?’

I wish for the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

‘Er, no, that was a mistake. My – my, erm, my face just fell on yours accidentally, Dan, ha-ha,’ I say, sitting on my hands to stop myself from physically writhing with shame. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘Yeah, right, totally understandable,’ he says, leaning closer. ‘These things do happen.’

And then he reaches over and takes my face between both of his hands, twining his fingers in my hair. His lips fall on mine in a way that is not even slightly accidental. I feel as if all my bones have turned to spaghetti. I couldn’t move my limbs if I tried.

‘Whoops,’ he says, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he pulls away. ‘My mistake. Must have slipped.’

It seems like everything has gone into slow motion; that if I tried to speak my words would be all stretched out and slurred. I can’t stop myself from smiling in a manner that is actually beginning to make my cheeks hurt. Dan’s dark eyes meet mine with a force that feels like it should be visible, fizzing and sparking between us. His fingers are now laced with mine across the table. I can’t let go.

‘So,’ he says finally.

‘So,’ I murmur, hardly able to form an ‘o’ sound, so fixed is my ridiculous grin.

‘What next?’ Dan asks, squeezing my fingers with his.

‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘Is that okay?’

‘You don’t know?’ teases Dan, throwing his head back in laughter. ‘Lizzy Harrison doesn’t have a plan? Surely you’ve at least booked a minicab to pick you up in five minutes?’

‘No minicab,’ I say softly. ‘No plan.’

Dan grins and kisses me again, pulling me close towards him. I distinctly hear someone next to us say ‘get a room’. Maybe we will.

I know I’m meant to tell you what happens next. But here’s the thing. I don’t know.

And it’s wonderful.

Acknowledgements

 

Huge thanks and love to . . .

My sister Julia Nicholls, the first person to know I was writing a book, and the most encouraging voice of all. Thank you for support, friendship and twenty emails a day. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

My best friend Jo Paton for her endless patience and thoughtfulness. And for coining the ever-useful decision-making question, ‘What Would Mariella Frostrup Do?’ which always leads one in the right direction.

Cath Lovesey, for film premieres, fancy dress and your insistence on marking every possible book-related moment with celebratory cocktails. Most of all, thank you for the suggestion, when I was struggling with over-ambitious subplots, to ‘just be funny’. I hope you laughed.

Harrie Evans, Rebecca Folland and Liz Iveson. Fabulous friends through thick and thin (you’re the thinnest), thank you for huge support and reality checks as I descended from rational publishing professional into paranoid aspiring author.

Thank you to my agent Andrew Kidd, whose advice, encouragement, sense of humour and excellent gossip have made me grateful a thousand times over that he agreed to be my agent.

My whip-smart editor, Jenny Geras, who is mistress of walking that tricky line between confidence-boosting flattery and constructive criticism. Our shared references, from Heather Shimmer lipstick to Bagley’s nightclub in King’s Cross, have made working together a total pleasure.

Sally Riley at Aitken Alexander, for placing me with the crème de la crème of international publishing. I couldn’t have dreamed of a better list of foreign publishers.

Jane Southern, literary scout extraordinaire, for encouraging her publishers to buy my book, and then offering me a job. I’m enormously grateful for both.

Thank you, too, to Sophie Hopkin, Jo Roberts-Miller, Suzy McGrath, Nic Boddington and Lisa McCormack for being lovely friends, always.

Lots of people were amazingly kind and helpful when I lost my job in the middle of writing this book. Impossible to thank everyone, but especial gratitude to the following: Helen Manders, Lucy Vanderbilt, Sarah Ballard, Georgina Moore, Carly Cook, Sarah Hunt-Cooke, Kate Walwyn, Rachel Clements, Francoise Higson, Eugenie Furniss, Simon Trewin, Sheila Crowley, Frederika van Traa. And Dan at Smile Bank for extending my overdraft when the computer said no, and promising to buy the book for his girlfriend. I hope you did so she can see your name here!

And lastly thank you to my parents, Janet and Alan Wright, who may not have always agreed with my decisions, but have always supported them. Alan, remember this is a novel and not an autobiography, don’t read anything into Lizzy’s dad being dead. I swear I will try to write something with submarines in next time, just for you. Janet, I know you have never lived on an ashram, but you are still very wise.

Lizzy Harrison Loses Control

 

P
IPPA
W
RIGHT
lives in London and works in book publishing. You can find her on twitter at

www.twitter.com/troisverres

First published 2011 by Pan Books

This electronic edition published 2011 by Pan Books
an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited
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ISBN 978-1-447-20066-6 PDF
ISBN 978-1-447-20065-9 EPUB

Copyright © Pippa Wright 2011

The right of Pippa Wright to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

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