“If you get into Leeds, I want to come with you,” he announced.
Ceri turned towards him and took his hands. “Good, I want you to come. We could get somewhere to live together, and you could write some more. I didn’t want to push you into anything. After all, you’ve only just met Sally again, but…”
“I don’t want a long distance relationship,” Mick said. “So it’s agreed. Even if you don’t get into Leeds, wherever you go, I’m coming too. I’m not losing you now. I love you, and I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. I can afford to buy us somewhere, and you can be near your sister. I’m sure you’ll get into Leeds; your application was brilliant. I can work anywhere, whether my book gets accepted or not.”
“You can do anything you want,” Ceri said. “Everything is your decision. The world is your lobster!”
Mick laughed and relaxed. He sensed the tension leaving his body. “Thank you,” he said simply. “And no, it’s our decision. We talk about everything, all right? People have always decided for me in the past, so I didn’t know how to do anything for myself, but I want us to talk about things. I’ll still need your help.”
§ § §
For the next couple of weeks, they simply waited: waited to hear from the university; waited to hear from the publisher. Neither of them had any control over those decisions.
“Thanks for volunteering to look after Olivia,” Sally said as she picked up her handbag, ready to head out to the supermarket. “It’s so much easier if I don’t have her to deal with.”
“Don’t worry, take your time, have a coffee and cake, live a little.” Mick watched as she left the kitchen. The baby gurgled in her carry cot. Mick got up and tucked the blanket around her. “We’ll be fine, won’t we, sweetheart. You’re going to be a very good girl for your uncles and sleep like a… well, sleep like a baby.”
Mick switched the kettle on and put some bread into the toaster. He heard Ceri at the door as Sally left. “Hi Sally, ‘bye Sally.” Mick smiled to himself. Ceri sounded as if he was in a hurry. Maybe he had news. He set out two mugs, putting a teabag in both.
“All right,” Ceri replied to something Sally had said. “I’ll take them through.” Entering the kitchen, Ceri kissed the back of his neck and sat at the table.
“I made us tea,” Mick said, turning around and placing the mugs on the table. He buttered the toast and put it on a plate. Finally, he joined Ceri.
Mick noticed the envelopes as soon as he sat down. He looked at Ceri, unsure what to do first. He picked one up. “This one is from the publisher,” he said. “Is yours from the university?”
“Yes. Will you open it for me? I can’t face doing it myself.”
“I’ll do you a swap. I’ll open yours if you open mine.”
“What about this one?” Ceri asked. “It’s from a solicitor.”
“It’s probably something about the flat. I’ve filled in so many things. They said they’d be sending a satisfaction form for me to fill in.” He picked up his mug and swallowed some tea to fortify himself. He had no real expectation the publishers would like his stories. “Okay, let’s open them.” He ran his finger along the inside of the top of the envelope and pulled out the folded letter. Ceri did the same.
“Well,” Ceri asked. “What does it say? Did I get a place?” Mick saw him cross his fingers as he unfolded the A4 piece of paper.
Mick scanned it for a moment and then smiled. “You got in. They’ve offered you a place for the next academic year. You did it. We’re off to Leeds.”
Ceri punched the air then got up and danced around the room. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” He looked at the baby, still sleeping peacefully, then sat back down. Mick got up and hugged him from behind. “I told you they’d be stupid not to have you. You’ll have to ring Megan and your parents. At least we’ve got a few months to get things organized.” He swallowed hard, certain his envelope wouldn’t contain such good news. He handed it over to Ceri to open.
“Okay, my turn now. Tell me the worst.” Mick took the adjacent chair and waited while Ceri read the letter.
“They’ve rejected it, haven’t they? It’s all right, I was expecting it; they’re only stupid stories.”
Ceri put a finger to his lips to silence him. “They haven’t rejected it.”
“What! They’re going to publish?” Now
he
wanted to get up and dance around the room.
“Wait a minute. You need to read this. There’s lots of stuff here about how much they like the stories, but I think they want you to change the target audience. It looks like they want you to write for young adults. Can you do that?”
Mick felt a little deflated. “Let me see.” He took the letter and read it. He was relieved to read they didn’t want to change the characters as there was no way that Carlos and his captain weren’t going to be together. He thought for a while. Could he do this? He could try. They wanted some re-writes as soon as possible and had said they were very excited about the work. The letter named an editor for him to contact who worked in this market. He would have to change some things, but the basic stories and characters could stay the same. Suddenly, he had visions of becoming the new JK Rowling. He stared into space trying to picture Carlos on the screen fighting his way across the Cosmos.
“You’re already planning it, aren’t you?” Ceri said. “This is so amazing.” He picked up the remaining letter. “Here, you’d better open this before we celebrate. D’you hear that Olivia? Your Uncle Mick is going to become a famous author.”
Mick opened the letter and read its contents. “Oh. My. God.” He put it down, and then picked it up again and read it once more just to make sure.
“What is it?” Ceri asked.
“It’s to do with mum. I didn’t even think… I thought she’d have left everything to some charity, but this says she left everything to me. Bloody hell, Ceri! She left me the house, and it seems there’s money as well. I’ve got to go and sign some documents, and then it’s all mine. I don’t believe it; despite everything, she left it to me. Perhaps she forgave me after all.” Tears rolled down his cheeks. “Shit! We missed so much, Ceri. I wish she’d survived long enough to know my stories are going to be read by others. I wish she could have been proud of me.”
Ceri took his hand. “I’m proud of you. Bloody hell, this means you can spend your time writing. You’ve got enough for so many books. And you never know, maybe they’ll turn it into a film. Imagine that, your stories up there on a big screen. Who d’you think should play Carlos and the Captain?” He smirked and then chuckled.
“What’s the matter?” Mick asked, seeing the look of mischief in Ceri’s expression.
“I’m just thinking about one of your stories, that’s all. It’s a shame but you’re going to have to take out the scene where they celebrate after getting the treasure from the Many Spotted Bangaloos. You know, the one in the zero gravity room, when Carlos finds out exactly what happens if you don’t swallow.”
“Oh yeah,” Mick said returning his grin. “Re-writing that scene will be a bit tricky, but like everything else, it’s going to be such fun!”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Originally from South Wales, Alexa has lived for over thirty years in the North West of England. Now retired, after a long career in teaching, she devotes her time to her obsessions. Alexa began writing when her favourite character was killed in her favourite show. After producing a lot of fanfiction she ventured into original writing. She is currently owned by a mad cat and spends her time writing about the men in her head, watching her favourite television programmes and usually crying over her favourite football team.
TRADEMARKS ACKNOWLEDGMENT
The author acknowledges the trademark status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
LiveJournal, LiveJournal, Inc.
Doctor Who, BBC
Torchwood, BBC
Superman, DC Comics
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