‘Well, look. For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’ve not submitted it yet. It has huge potential, but to give you the very best chance of securing a great deal, there are a few areas which could be worked on. The bones are all there. It’s not a huge amount of work by any means, but if you’ll allow me to help you, I’d love to.’ He smiled that dazzling smile of his once more and she was sure she would wake up to find this was just a dream and her life was as ordinary and uneventful as always.
‘I don’t honestly know what to say,’ Jo told him.
‘Say yes. Take a chance. If you can get the time off work.’
‘I’m on leave at the moment,’ she muttered.
‘Well,’ Ewan beamed. ‘That’s perfect then. It’s fate. It was meant to happen.’
Jo felt a shiver of excitement. Could she really do it? Her mother would say yes, of course. Libby would say yes. Noah would absolutely say yes, and even Lorcan would nudge her to do it, she was sure. Clara might be a harder sell, but her mother would kill her if she turned down this chance solely because of her little sister. She’d assure her that Clara would be fine, and Jo knew in her heart that Clara would be. The real question, she realised, was whether she could afford not to do it. Opportunities like this didn’t come around very often, if ever.
‘Ewan,’ Libby’s voice cut through, ‘people are starting to queue, so if maybe we could bring you through and get you set up. I’d like to soundcheck the radio mics before we open the doors.’
‘Of course,’ Ewan said. ‘Jo and I can have a chat after, can’t we, Jo?’
She looked at him, and melted under the warmth of his expression. Jo nodded, the power of speech lost for a moment, then stuttered, ‘Yes, of course. We’ll talk later. Thank you again for your time.’
‘It’s my pleasure,’ Ewan told her, flashing her that George Clooney in ER smile again.
He stood up and followed Libby into the main body of the shop while Jo remained seated and could only wonder what the hell had just happened. Had this guy been for real? His offer was so incredibly generous and so far she hadn’t been able to spot a single hidden camera. She wished she could grab Libby and talk to her about it. Or Noah. But she knew Noah would be sitting in the front row in full support of his fiancée and it would be grossly unfair of her to drag him away to beg for advice.
She wondered if Lorcan was there yet. Maybe she could grab him for a quick chat? She knew she just had to talk to someone to see whether this was all a crazy dream or maybe, just maybe, it was the chance she’d been waiting for all along. A chance delivered on a golden platter by someone who looked like he’d walked straight out of a romance novel.
Libby had opened the doors to Once Upon A Book and it was filling up quickly. There was a buzz of conversation and laughter. Eager book fans were clutching well-thumbed copies of Ewan's earlier works, while others lifted copies of his latest release and started to flick through the pages while they queued.
Jo wondered if she should offer to jump behind the counter and help with the sales, but her head was too full and she still hadn’t spotted Lorcan. She had started to feel a little overwhelmed by it all and, she realised, she really, really needed some air. Having pushed her way through the crowd to get outside, she leaned against the window of the bookshop and took a couple of deep breaths. This was crazy. Actually, it was beyond crazy. But in a good way, she thought. It was beyond anything she could have dreamt of. She felt all of a sudden like doing a little happy dance, but she didn’t want to risk Ewan looking out the window, seeing her cutting some of her very suspect moves and deciding against inviting her to Donegal after all. Instead she settled for a little air punch and the quietist of ‘whoops’.
When she looked up, she saw Lorcan as he walked down the street from Harry’s shop, a bunch of wilted flowers in his hand.
‘You’re outside,’ he said as he got close to her. ‘And you look shell-shocked but in a good way. Did it go well? Grandad asked me to bring you these flowers as a good-luck gift. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him what you needed good luck for, just that you had something important happening. I had to assure him you weren’t dying before he let me leave the shop, but you should prepare yourself for an interrogation the next time you see him,’ he smiled.
Jo took the flowers, knowing that receiving a slightly past-its-best gift from Harry’s stock was a huge honour, and smiled. ‘I needed some air,’ she said. ‘But this is very kind of Harry. Please thank him from me. And yes, it went well. Actually, it was exceptionally surreal, but it was good. Would you believe he loves my work? And, more than that, he wants me to accompany him on a research trip to Donegal over the next few days so he can provide some private mentoring.’
Lorcan raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh… wow. Well, that’s, erm… That’s incredible. What an opportunity! That’s very generous of him.’
‘He says my writing is exquisite and evocative,’ Jo told him, as she tried not to overthink the tone of Lorcan’s response. His ‘Oh… wow!’ was more muted than she might have expected.
‘I have no doubt that it is,’ Lorcan said. ‘None at all.’
‘I know it’s unusual,’ she replied, as a wave of uneasiness rose inside her. ‘To be honest, he said he could also benefit from having someone local help with some of his research trips, so it’s not entirely without benefit to him.’
‘No, I imagine not,’ Lorcan said, and Jo felt herself bristle. It was as if he wasn’t happy for her. Did he not realise what an amazing opportunity this was for her?
‘He’s an award-winning writer. I’d be mad to turn down the opportunity to work with him. And he’s covering my accommodation costs too.’ With each moment that passed she realised more and more that she’d be a fool to turn this down.
‘As I said,’ Lorcan replied, his voice dull. ‘It’s very generous of him, but…’
‘But what?’ she snapped.
Lorcan shifted uneasily. ‘Please don’t take this the wrong way. Actually, don’t worry about it. Forget I said anything.’
‘I’m hardly going to be able to do that now. What were you going to say?’ Jo was in serious danger of her good mood slipping away.
She watched as Lorcan shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. ‘I’m only saying this because you’re my friend, I think, or you could be my friend. But are you sure it’s not just a line? A “why don’t you come up so I can show you my etchings” kind of a thing?’ He tried to sound light and breezy but there was no way to get around the words he had actually spoken.
Immediately, Jo felt the wind sucked out of her sails. ‘Because there could be no other reason for him wanting to work with me other than for him to seduce me?’ she said, the last few words coming out as little more than an angry whisper. How dare he?
‘That’s not what I’m saying. It’s just unusual. That’s all. Nothing more than that. I’m not questioning your talent. Why would I?’
She was about to tell him exactly what she thought of him for even suggesting such a thing when she heard Libby’s voice over the PA system in the shop announcing that the event was about to start and asking people to take their seats.
‘We should go in,’ Jo said.
‘Thanks for getting me a ticket, by the way. I appreciate it,’ he said.
Jo shrugged her shoulders. She couldn’t bring herself to speak because if she did she would either scream at him or start to cry. All she knew was that she wished with all her heart that she hadn’t got him the damn ticket. In fact, at that moment, she wished she hadn’t met him at all.
Inside the shop, she was deeply relieved to find there were only a couple of seats left and none of them together. ‘I’ll talk to you after,’ she said, fully planning to avoid him at all costs after the event, before she walked to the front of the shop to take a seat.
But it was too late, the shine had gone off her evening. As Ewan spoke about his career and his writing process, she found herself unable to concentrate. All she could think of, much to her incredible ann
oyance, was the look on Lorcan’s face when she’d told him about Ewan’s offer. Those crass words he had uttered. That he must have thought her naive and easily led. Worse than that, he must have thought there was no way her writing alone could attract the attention of a ‘proper writer’.
She’d known Lorcan only a handful of days and had already given him enough power to make her feel crappy. She was angry at him, and at herself. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t aware from Harry’s tales that Lorcan was nothing more than an entitled brat and he’d proved it by thinking he’d any right to judge her decisions. That’s what happens when you take chances on people, she thought. That’s what happens when you start to open your heart just a little.
She glanced to the podium where Ewan stood, his audience enthralled at his every word. He seemed so warm and genuine. He’d explained he liked to support up-and-coming writers. He’d assured her he was sincere and she’d have her own accommodation. She’d seen that in his face. She’d heard him talk about her work like it really meant something. That he believed she really had something special.
But in just one look Lorcan had made her feel icky about it all.
Well, he had no right to. He didn’t really know her. Not enough to pass his opinion on her choices. And anyone else who wanted to judge her could get lost too. They all wanted her to live big and take chances. Well, that was exactly what she was going to do. As soon as she could, she’d tell Ewan that she would be delighted to take him up on his offer.
21
Mamma Mia
Jo’s mum practically jumped on her as soon as she walked into the house. Close behind her was Auntie Mags, a gin glass in her hand and a rosy-cheeked expression that left Jo under no illusion whatsoever that alcohol had been consumed.
‘Here’s my wee pet now,’ Mags cheered, pulling Jo towards her and hugging her tightly into her ample bosom. ‘Since your mammy couldn’t come to crochet club, the very best member of crochet club – that’s me, by the way – came to her instead. We have extra gin if you’d like one?’
Auntie Mags released her vice-like grip and Jo stepped back, grateful to be able to take in a deep lungful of air that did not smell of Mags’s knock-off Chanel perfume (‘Chanelle Number 6 – sure, it’s the same stuff, only a tenner a bottle’) and gin.
‘I’m grand thanks,’ Jo said. ‘I want to keep a clear head.’ That much was true. She had to pack and get organised and wrap her head around her impromptu trip away with a virtual stranger. Thankfully, they weren’t going far. Derry was nestled on the border with Donegal and Ewan was keen to explore Inishowen and the north of the county. They were places Jo was already quite familiar with, but nonetheless she wanted to do a little touristy research of her own before they set off.
She took off her jacket and sat down, her mother sitting down opposite her.
‘Did Clara settle okay?’ she asked her mother.
‘She did. She’s in your bed all cosied up. Mags read her bedtime story, so that was definitely an experience for her.’ Her mum gave a quick glance towards Mags and Jo couldn’t help but laugh. They were such a double act, and even if, at times, Mags could be a bit full on, she had a heart that was made of pure gold and she kept Jo’s mum in high spirits.
‘She’s a good wain,’ Auntie Mags said, her face solemn. ‘That wee pet. She’s lucky to have you all, you know. You’re good people. The best.’
‘Now, now, Mags. Don’t be getting emotional. We’re at least two gins away from that being an acceptable part of the evening,’ Jo’s mum laughed. ‘Or maybe we’re not? Jo, are you going to tell me how this evening went or keep me in suspense? I’ve been on my nerves all evening. These gins have been entirely medicinal.’
‘That’s true,’ Mags agreed. ‘And I’ve only been drinking to keep her company. It’s never good to drink alone,’ she said with a wink.
Jo pushed aside her feelings about how Lorcan had reacted. There were so many feelings there to unpack. Instead, she wanted to focus on the offer that Ewan had made her, even if telling her mum that he had thought she showed real talent made her blush furiously.
‘He thinks I have potential,’ she said. ‘Real potential.’
She watched as her mother beamed and Mags reached a hand out to squeeze her friend’s arm.
‘I knew it!’ her mother said, and Jo was sure that she could see tears forming in her eyes. ‘I bloody knew it!’
‘Oh, don’t cry, Mum. Because if you cry, I’ll cry.’
‘And I’ll cry too,’ Mags said. ‘And I’m told I’m not allowed to do that for at least another two gins.’
‘Okay, I won’t cry,’ Jo’s mum replied, ‘but that doesn’t stop me being proud. And I am prouder than ever! Do you believe in yourself now?’
‘I do,’ Jo told her. And it was true. She did. She was buoyed by a blossoming sense of new possibilities opening up to her. ‘And there’s more,’ she began. ‘He wants to mentor me for a couple of days.’
She explained to her mother the plan that Ewan had outlined for her. Three days and two nights, as his guest, while he did his own research.
‘He seems like such a nice man, Mum,’ she said. ‘And it’s not often an opportunity like this comes around. I can’t say no – and I already have the time off. He really, really liked the book.’
‘Holy God,’ Mags exclaimed, quickly downing her gin. ‘Either I drink faster or I break my own rules and start crying anyway.’
Jo just watched as her mother looked at her, an unreadable expression on her face. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach. ‘Mum, you do think it’s a good thing, don’t you? I mean, if you think it isn’t… I’ll see if he can just draft me some notes or something and…’
Her mother stood up and crossed the room before she perched on the arm of the sofa beside Jo and put her arm around her shoulder. Her voice was almost a whisper. ‘I’m so proud of you. My heart could burst. Of course you have to take this opportunity. This could be your big moment, you know. Your time to shine. When I think you’ve had this talent all along…’ She kissed Jo gently on the top of her head.
‘Ah, frig it!’ Mags squealed, downing her drink. ‘I’m going to cry anyway!’ and she crossed the room to pull the two of them into a huge hug.
Clara sat on Jo’s bed with her arms crossed, her eyes narrowed and her lip distinctly petted. ‘But it’s not Saturday night and you don’t sleep anywhere else ’cept on Saturdays.’
‘That’s true, Clara. I don’t. Not usually. But this is different because this is a chance I got just last night and I have to take it.’
‘A chance?’
Jo could see Clara was confused and, knowing that her little sister was having issues with separation anxiety at the moment, she realised she had to play this very carefully indeed. ‘Well, you know sometimes if we go into town and, maybe it’s a sunny day and we’re walking home?’
Clara nodded.
‘And I say, “Will we get an ice cream in Fiorintini’s for a wee treat?”’
Clara nodded again.
‘And it’s not an everyday treat, just a sometimes treat?’
Clara nodded again and her brow became just a little less furrowed.
‘Well, this is like that. It’s not an everyday sleepover, but a treat sleepover.’
‘Can I come then?’ Clara asked, her eyes wide at the thought.
‘Sorry, dotes. It’s only for grown-ups. I’m going to be working there. Writing some of my stories. Besides, I have a really important job for you to do when I’m away.’
‘What is it?’ Clara, who loved to feel very important indeed, asked eagerly.
‘Well, I need someone to sleep in this bed for me to keep it warm and to look after Mammy since Daddy is still away.’
‘Can Buttercup sleep here too?’ she asked, as her eyes darted to her well-loved teddy resting on one of the pillows.
‘Of course she can! But only if she promises not to steal all the covers, or snore too loudly.’
‘Teddy bears don’
t snore, you silly billy!’ Clara scolded.
‘Do little girls called Clara snore and steal the covers?’ Jo asked, one eyebrow raised.
‘Nope,’ Clara said, sliding herself off the bed and grabbing her teddy. ‘Only big sisters called Jojo. Who snore so loud!’ And there it was, Clara’s giggle.
‘I do not!’ Jo protested.
‘You do! Louder than Daddy Pig!’ By now, Clara was almost hysterical with laughter at her teasing and Jo wanted to scoop her up and hold her very tight.
‘Clara Campbell, I love you just how Big Nutbrown Hare loves Little Nutbrown Hare. All the way to the moon…’
‘And back,’ Clara answered, solemnly.
‘You’ll be a good girl for Mammy, won’t you? I’ll ask her to take you for an extra big ice cream since I won’t be here.’
‘Yes!’ Clara punched her fist in the air and grinned. With that, she was gone, a whirlwind in a primary school uniform and a mass of red curls. Buttercup swinging under her arm.
That, Jo thought, went a lot better than it could have. Clara was one of two stumbling blocks to her excitement about her trip. Lorcan was the other. They hadn’t exchanged a call or a text or even liked each other’s social media posts since the reading. He had left before the event had ended, which had given Jo no chance to try and clear the air with him. She had been fired up and ready to challenge him as to why he had been so judgemental, but he clearly didn’t want to be challenged. Whereas they had progressed to a steady stream of messages over the previous few days, the silence was deafening. Jo knew she owed him nothing. She knew she shouldn’t give him space in her head, but yet there he was.
She barely knew him, she reminded herself. Just because they’d had two lovely days together, where they had been able to talk to each other about almost anything. And, yes, there had a been a moment or two when she was fairly sure there was a fizz of something between them, but that didn’t give him the right to judge her actions. She could make her own decisions and she didn’t need Lorcan ‘high and mighty’ Gallagher judging her for it.
In Pursuit of Happiness Page 13