23
Monday morning
'On line one I have Miranda England's husband, Jeremy. Accept or reject?'
'Accept.' Click. 'Hi, Jeremy. To what do I owe -'
'Miranda's pregnant.'
'Congrat —'
'She's had three miscarriages in the past eight months and her gynie says she has to rest completely. No work AT ALL. Which means her next book won't be delivered on time. Tell them at Dalkin Emery.'
'OK-'
'Bye.'
'Wait!'
But he was gone. Straight away she rang back and the answering machine picked up. 'Jeremy, it's Jojo here. We need to talk about this -'
The phone was snatched up. 'There's nothing to say. We're having a baby, she needs to rest, she's not going to write that book until she's good and ready.'
'Jeremy, I can hear that you're upset —'
' They work her into the ground. A book every year and all that promotional stuff. Fucking journalists wanting to know what colour her knickers are. No wonder she keeps losing the babies.'
'I understand, I completely understand. Miranda works very, very hard.'
'And I know she's under contract but they can have the money back. Some things are more important.'
Jojo closed her eyes. He wasn't saying that two years ago before she'd got Miranda a six-figure advance. Biggest mistake an agent could make: getting the author so much money, she no longer needed to work. 'When is the baby due?'
'Next January. And you needn't think she'll get straight back to writing once she's had it, so tell them at Dalkin Emery they can whistle for their book. And not to bother ringing us trying to get us to change our mind. We won't and Miranda can't have any stress.'
He hung up again and this time Jojo didn't bother calling back. She'd got the message loud and clear. What now? She'd better ring Tania Teal and try telling her her cash-cow author had gone on strike. This would so not play well.
Tania wasn't in yet so she left a very detailed message with Tania's assistant.
Ten minutes later Tania was on. 'I heard Miranda's wonderful news. I tried to ring her but it went to voicemail.'
And would continue to, if Jeremy had anything to do with it. 'Jojo, Miranda's pregnancy is great news, but I have a sales director breathing down my neck. What are the chances of Miranda finishing this book in time?'
Jojo weighed her words. 'There's always a chance Miranda and Jeremy will change their mind, but — honestly? I'd say forget it. They really want this baby and sounds to me like they're going to totally do what the doctor tells them. To publish next May, she should really have delivered the book by now and she's only halfway through writing it.'
'But if she recommences writing as soon as she's had the baby? If she gets the manuscript to us by next March we'll do a rush job. We can copy-edit, proof-read and turn any manuscript around in five weeks max. Then three weeks at the printers and we'll be ready to go.'
Jojo would remember that timescale the next time publishers had a go at her about an author delivering late.
'There's no way anyone can write with a newborn in the house,' Jojo said. 'Tania, this is not going to happen.'
Tama went silent, then, almost experimentally, 'She
is
under contract.'
'She doesn't care. Jeremy says you can have the money back.' Tania fell silent, and Jojo knew what she was thinking: if Miranda needed the money she'd write the book; perhaps they should never have given her that big advance. But she had the grace not to say it. Instead she sighed, said, 'Poor Miranda, she can do without this sort of grief. Give her my best, Jojo. Flowers are on the way, of course.'
TO:
Jojo.harvey@LIPMAN HAIGH.co
FROM:
Mark.avery@LIPMAN HAIGH.co
SUBJECT: Meet me for lunch
I've something to tell you.
TO:
Mark.avery@LIPMAN HAIGH.co
FROM:
Jojo.harvey@LIPMAN HAIGH.co
SUBJECT: Re: Meet me for lunch
Tell me now. Especially if it's bad.
TO:
Jojo.harvey@LIPMAN HAIGH.co
FROM:
Mark.avery@LIPMAN HAIGH.co
SUBJECT: Re: Meet me for lunch
Not bad, but confidential. Antonio's in Old Compton Street at 12.
TO:
Mark.avery@LIPMAN HAIGH.co
FROM:
Jojo.harvey@LIPMAN HAIGH.co
SUBJECT: Re: Meet me for lunch
ANTONIO'S??! Last time I was in that dump, I was working as a bargirl and Becky got poisoned. This'd better be good.
Mark was already there when she arrived, a thick white cup of watery cappuccino in front of him.
'Nice place,' Jojo laughed, swinging through the corridor of tightly placed Formica tables and almost dislodging lunches with her hips. 'Not.'
'But no one will see us here.'
'You could say the same about a room at the Ritz.' She squashed into the too-small booth. 'What's up?'
'Jocelyn Forsyth is retiring.'
Her breath caught. 'Yay! When?'
'November. It'll be announced when he's told his clients but I thought you'd like to know asap.'
'Thank you.' She was suddenly excited and bright-eyed. 'Sometimes it can be very handy sleeping with the Managing Partner. So Lipman Haigh will be taking on a new partner, right?'
'Right.'
Who's it going to be?'
He laughed regretfully. 'I don't have that much power, Jojo. That's up to all the partners to decide.'
'So I'd better be real nice to all the partners.'
'Starting with me.' He slid his thigh between hers. 'Shall we order?'
'I dunno. Eating in here is a form of extreme sport.'
He nudged his thigh in a bit further. 'A little more,' she said quietly.
'Wha -? Oh, right.' Instantly his pupils turned almost black. Romantic novelists came in for a lot of stick but Jojo had to hand it to them about the dilating pupils.
Mark slid his leg along an extra couple of inches and she shifted down slightly in her seat, letting her legs fall open until his knee had made contact.
'Bingo,' she said quietly. 'I could get to like it in here.'
'Jojo. Jesus Christ,' he said with low intent. He gripped her hand and stared at her mouth, then at her nipples which were straining through her bra, her shirt and her close-fitting jacket.
He began to move his knee against her and she caught his hand in her mouth then, all of a sudden, she was sitting up straight and dropping his hand like it burned; someone she recognized was coming in. She actually felt it before her brain made the connection — it was Richie Gant. And he was with — of
all
people — Olga Fisher!
High-speed, four-way eye-contact was made, like a complicated knife-throwing trick and everyone froze, locked in a bond of mutual mortification.
Fuck
, Jojo thought, feeling strangely dislocated,
I thought Olga was mine
.
'Surprisingly good lasagne in here,' Olga said, smoothly. 'But perhaps we should have Chinese instead.'
They backed out of the door and Jojo and Mark looked at each other.
'How many people know about Jocelyn retiring?' Jojo asked idly.
'It was only meant to be me, but clearly the silly old fool has been telling everyone.'
'I thought,' and her throat tried to close on her saying it, 'I thought Olga was on my side. What's she doing with Skanky Boy?'
'Maybe they're having an affair.'
She laughed, although it wasn't remotely funny. And then it
was
kind of funny. Refined Olga having sex with the poster boy for acne, what a thought.
'It's OK,' she grinned. You, Dan Swann and Jocelyn are dead certs.'
'And Jim.'
'I don't think so.'
'I think so. Really,' he insisted. 'He thinks you're great. And so do the boys in Edinburgh.'
'They do? You know, perhaps I should take a trip to Edinburgh. See how Nicholas and Cam are doing.'
'Great idea. And I'm long overdue a visit, maybe I should come with you.'
Fully cheered up, she said, 'Now, where were we?'
When she returned, Tania Teal had left a message on her voicemail. 'We've just had a sales meeting about the Miranda situation. We were wondering if there's any way round this.' She was trying to sound cheery but her voice kept cracking with anxiety.
Jojo rang her back and Tania launched into the plans they had come up with. We could provide a secretary to go to Miranda's home and take dictation from her. Miranda needn't even get out of bed. She could stay lying down —'
'But that will still be stressful for her.'
'But-'
' The hard part is not sitting upright, it's being creative.'
'But-'
'You can publish sometime later next year.'
'But we'll have missed the big summer sales. We were hoping for a huge increase -'
'Tania,' Jojo said, warningly.
'Sorry,' she said quickly. 'Sorry, sorry.'
TO:
Jojo.harvey@LIPMAN HAIGH.co
FROM:
Mark.avery@LIPMAN HAIGH.co
SUBJECT: I've been thinking…
Maybe we should wait until after the partnership appointment in November before we become official. I don't want 'us' to damage your trajectory.
M xxx
Jojo stared at her screen in dismay. Was Mark bailing on her? November was a long, long way away; so long that it might never happen. Was he getting cold feet?
The possibility scared her so much, she was actually surprised. She went to his office and walked in. 'What's going on?'
'With what?'
'We agreed on August, now you want to change it to November. If you're trying to bail on me, forget it. I'll just laugh in your face.'
Mark raised his eyebrows in polite inquiry. 'Some of the partners - Jocelyn Forsyth, Nicholas in Scodand - are family men.' He was calm, cold even, but Jojo knew him well enough to realize he was angry. When he was incensed he kind of looked too big for his suit. 'They won't be impressed by our home-wrecking. In fact, I don't think any of the partners will appreciate it. I don't want to run the risk of you losing any votes.'
She had to admit that this was something which had flitted across her own mind.
'I made the decision — suggestion — with your career and only that in mind.'
She nodded, a little intimidated by his clipped tones. 'But Jim already knows,' she said. 'Olga has probably guessed. And I bet Richie Gant has told all of them he saw us together.'
'Maybe, but an affair is different from my having left my wife and set up shop with you.'
She thought about it: he was right. It would be better to wait. And November was only a short while after August. It was just that…
'I'm usually the one who keeps deferring our big day,' she admitted.
'I had noticed,' he said, drily.
'You've been very patient.'
'I would wait for you for ever.' Then he added, 'Although obviously I would prefer not to have to.'
'November it is. When? The day of the decision?'
'Why not wait until it's official and published in
Book News
? No point spoiling the ship and all that.'
'You're doing it again.'
'What?'
'Scaring me.'
'There's nothing to be afraid of.'
'Except fear itself.'
'And wardrobe monsters.'
'And giant rocks that fall out of the sky and land on your head.'
'Exactly.'
Tuesday morning
The first piece of post she opened was a letter from Paul Whitington, turning down Gemma's book. That only left Knoxton House and after that it would be time to move on to the independents. At this late stage in the game, she acknowledged there was a good chance she wasn't going to sell it, and if she did, only for a tiny advance — maybe a thousand quid.
'Choose your next editor carefully, Ms Harvey,' Manoj said. 'It may be your last.'
She decided on Nadine Steidl and forced herself to sound enthusiastic. 'I've got a wee gem for you.' She was using Cassie's phrase, she liked it.
But Cassie's phrase wasn't enough to convince Nadine and on Thursday morning, she came back to Jojo with a no.
Thursday afternoon
'Tania Teal on line one for you. Accept or reject?'
'I'd rather stick a rusty compass in my eye.'
'I didn't ask you that. Accept or reject?'
'OK. Accept.'
Click, then Tania's anxiety was pouring down the phone line. 'Jojo, because of Miranda, next summer's schedule is in bad shape.'
Again with the pregnant author!
'We need a popular women's fiction book to fill Miranda's May slot and we have nothing.'
'But you've got so many authors.'
'I've looked at what we have and every book coming out next year is tied in to time-specific promotions or won't be ready for May.'
So what do you want me to do, Jojo wondered. Write the fucking thing myself?
'I was thinking of that Irish thing you sent me,' Tania said. 'That would do. Have you managed to sell it?'
She meant Gemma Hogan's book: the one Jojo couldn't even give away.
But she wasn't telling Tania that! 'You might just have got lucky,' she said. 'It's still available but only just. I've got two houses about to bite -'
'How much?' Tania interrupted. 'Ten grand?'
'Er-'
'Twenty? Thirty, then.'
Jojo said nothing. Why should she? Tania was doing the bidding for her.
'Thirty-five?'
Jojo made her pitch. 'A hundred for two.'
Tania whispered, 'Christ.' Then in a proper voice asked, 'Is there a second book?'
'Sure.' She didn't know for certain, but there probably was.
'Sixty for one,' Tania said. 'And that's it, Jojo. I don't want another author, I've too many as it is. I just need a stop-gap.'
It wasn't perfect. A two-book deal was always better because it meant the house was commited to the long-term future of the author.
But still a deal was better than no deal. Sixty grand was better than a thousand. And who knows, if the book did well, she could get Gemma a second deal for a lot more.
'OK.
Runaway Dad s
s yours.'