She Did It: You think you know her - think again.

by Mel Sherratt

  The sitting room was decorated in cream and navy-blue. At the far end, set around a stripped-wood fireplace, was a large, navy corner settee covered with cushions of every shape and size. Behind it, bookcases adorned the wall from ceiling to reclaimed oak floor. A small television was hidden inside a cabinet built into an alcove opposite, and a large coffee table took up the rest of the space.

  At the other end of the room, the dining table, which had belonged to her grandparents, took pride of place by the window. You couldn’t see that it sat ten people and was made of antique oak because it was covered in an array of notepads, Post-it notes, a small whiteboard, boxes of leaflets and pens, and several proof copies of the book, Something’s Got to Give, in a pile next to an open laptop.

  Tamara had one of the three bedrooms set up as an office but, since Esther had started working for her, she had taken to sitting at the dining table. She had really enjoyed having Esther there. She was always self-deprecating, fun to be around, and bubbling over with ideas. She had brightened up her working days so much already and Tamara herself had become far more productive. It was good to have someone around to brainstorm with, or chat to in general over coffee about last night’s TV. She had missed that working alone.

  She reached for her cue cards as Esther came into the room with two mugs, both handles in one hand. She watched her move aside a pile of papers and place them down on coasters, surprised she had been able to find them amongst the paraphernalia.

  ‘I’m really looking forward to this,’ Esther said, a huge grin lighting up her face. ‘It’s going to be amazing.’

  ‘I wish I had your confidence,’ Tamara sighed, shoulders sagging at the thought of what was to come. ‘I’m not confident.’

  Tamara raised her eyebrows quizzically at Esther.

  ‘I’m not! I fake it. You need to do that too. Visualise yourself standing tall, talking like a pro, and everyone listening intently to you. You have to see yourself winning that pitch and imagine how you will feel when you do.’

  ‘I’ve been trying that and failing miserably.’

  Esther giggled. ‘Well, you could visualise the audience without any clothes on. It’s a method that works, apparently, but I think I would laugh too much at the thought!’

  Tamara picked up a copy of the novel and pretended to swipe Esther around the head with it. ‘You’re supposed to be encouraging me, not making me even more nervous!’

  Esther pulled out a chair and sat down, crossing her legs and smoothing down her dress. She looked up at Tamara with such encouragement that she couldn’t help but smile back.

  ‘You will never be readier,’ Esther insisted. ‘Besides, it’s natural to be nervous. Have you met anyone from Dulston Publishing before?’

  ‘I’ve known Jack Maitland – he’s the company director – since I was in my teens but I haven’t had much to do with him since then. I’ve seen him around at a few launches, but I don’t think I know any of his staff, although it’s possible I’ve mixed with them. I go to so many events.’

  ‘What’s he like?’ Esther sat forward and rested her chin in the crook of her hands. ‘Is he good-looking?’

  Tamara thought back to the last time she had seen Jack. It was at a book launch that had been heavily attended. There had hardly been room to stand, let alone mingle. She had only seen him because he was tall so stood out above the crowd.

  ‘Tall, dark, and handsome, if you like that kind of thing,’ she told Esther.

  ‘But you can still think about him with no clothes on?’

  ‘Esther!’ Tamara looked horrified, then laughed at the thought.

  ‘You see, that’s what you need to do. You’ll be fine. Although … I do have another idea, if you’d be interested in hearing about it?’

  Tamara checked the time once again. ‘Yes, of course. You can tell me all about it on the way.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tamara buttoned up her jacket while she stood waiting in the reception area of Dulston Publishing. It was a tiny space, but bright, with a staircase leading to another floor in front of them. Behind the receptionist, rows and rows of hardback and paperback books were stood with their covers facing out.

  A poster displaying their non-fiction title of the month was standing prominently in the window, next to a pile of the books. The bright-blue font stood out from its yellow background. It looked arty, something Tamara knew her father might like. She made a mental note to check it out for Father’s Day that coming Sunday.

  Discreetly, she wiped sweaty palms down her skirt and thought better of pouring another cup of water from the cooler. If she weren’t careful, she would be running to the bathroom in the middle of the pitch and that wouldn’t do at all.

  ‘Are you sure I have everything ready?’ she asked Esther yet again.

  Esther nodded, swinging side to side on the round chair she was sitting in. ‘Remember, you got this.’

  ‘Says the woman who seems as cool as a cucumber. You look amazing, by the way.’

  Esther was wearing a pale-blue shift dress and navy sandals with a mid-heel. She had curled her hair so that it hung down in coils.

  ‘Thanks! So do you.’

  Tamara sniggered. Her recently straightened hair had turned into a frizzy mess in the heat. She sat down next to Esther, hoping that the wetness she could feel under her arms wouldn’t seep through her white shirt.

  ‘Is that your natural hair colour?’

  Esther nodded. ‘I used to hate it as a child but I quite like it now.’

  ‘It’s an amazing colour. Better than boring brown.’

  A door opened to their right and Jack Maitland came out. His bio on the company website said he was thirty-seven and he unquestionably wore his years well. As she’d mentioned to Esther, he was tall, with a slim build that was obviously kept in shape with some sort of rigorous exercise regime. Short, dark hair showed flecks of grey around the roots. He wore black, slim-legged trousers and a white shirt, sleeves rolled up, dark hairs showing on his forearms.

  ‘Good afternoon, ladies.’ He strode across the room, his smile widening as he held out a hand to them in turn. ‘How nice to see you again, Tamara.’

  ‘Likewise, Jack.’ His eyes were so blue that Tamara wondered if he was wearing coloured contact lenses. She pointed to Esther. ‘This is my assistant, Esther Smedley.’

  ‘It’s good to meet you.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Come on through.’

  Tamara waited for her stomach to settle before standing up. She grimaced at Esther behind his back as they followed him.

  They were shown into a room with a large, oval table that would easily seat twelve. Tamara gave silent thanks when she saw there were only four people sitting at its far end. Two men, in shirts open at the neck and sleeves rolled up, stood as they approached. They both looked to be mid-thirties but that was where the similarity ended. The one closest to them had a plump face, a receding hairline but a cheeky, infectious smile. The one next to him had a sharp chin and strong Roman nose, slicked back hair and shifty, deep-set eyes.

  ‘Let me introduce you to Oscar and Ben, part of my team,’ Jack said. ‘Oscar is one of our editors and worked on Something’s Got to Give. Ben is our communications manager.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Tamara said, completely forgetting to introduce them both. She glanced at Esther discreetly and wondered if she sensed her trepidation. Esther gave her a reassuring nod as she felt her hands shaking.

  A woman in her mid-fifties with bouffant, blonde hair, wearing a suit that was clearly too tight, closed her diary and gave them a smile. Next to her sat a younger woman, with white-blonde hair cut in a choppy style, and wearing the brightest shade of pink lipstick. It was stereotypical of Tamara but she assumed she was the author. She had a rabbit-in-the-headlights look about her whereas the older woman held her shoulders high.

  ‘This is Simone Byatt, our extremely talented author, who we were so fortunate to sign last year,’ Jack said, pointing to the younger woma
n. ‘And this is her agent, Arabella Smythe.’

  There wasn’t enough room to shake hands across the table, so Tamara continued to smile.

  While Esther sat down across from Arabella and Simone, Jack sitting across from her, Tamara moved to the head of the table in front of the drop-down presentation screen. She pressed a few keys on the laptop. Thankfully the presentation had been loaded before they had gone into the room.

  She lifted her shoulders as everyone looked expectantly at her. Esther gave her a discreet thumbs up. She took a breath and began.

  ‘We at Parker-Brown PR know a good book when we read it.’ She smiled at Simone, trying to recall the words she had rehearsed earlier. ‘We absolutely adored Something’s Got to Give. We loved the mystery woven in between the psychological suspense. The premise of a female serial killer kidnapping a woman and then the victim forming a rapport with her to survive was so tense! I was reading late into the night and couldn’t believe it when the tables were turned. It was a truly remarkable book that got under my skin and I want to share it with everyone.’

  So far, so good. Tamara relaxed a little. She said a few more things, running through several slides. But then she began to flounder.

  ‘We know that … er.’ She looked at the cue card and then at the one underneath it. ‘I … er.’ She turned to the presentation on the wall behind, but all the words seemed to be bouncing up and down. A rush of colour flooded her cheeks as she felt all eyes on her. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Again, she looked at her cue card. Think, Tamara, think!

  ‘We did extensive research.’ She heard Esther say.

  ‘Online, we targeted reading groups on Facebook and posed questions on Twitter. People who will enjoy this book come from any generation, male and female. Women who like psychological thrillers tend to have families of their own so the emotions play on them, because they can relate to them. They love to delve into the psyche of modern friendships, toxic marriages. And everyone enjoys a sense of justice. So, it’s a wide demographic and an excellent market, but extremely broad.’

  ‘I’ve heard all this before.’ Arabella waved a hand, dismissing their research. ‘How are you going to sell the book?’

  ‘Our aim is to pitch it to a market and only target the best group,’ Esther continued.

  Arabella rolled her eyes at Jack and sat back, her arms folded across her chest. ‘I know that but how?’

  ‘Well …’ Tamara flicked through her cue cards again, feeling her skin heating up once more. The room was quiet except for the sound of the air conditioning struggling to cope. The patches of sweat underneath her arms must have grown to huge pools by now.

  This wasn’t looking good. If she didn’t recover this soon, it would be lost.

  In desperation, she looked across at Esther, seeking out her help.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘It’s Royal Ascot next week.’ Esther stood up as all eyes fell on her. ‘Each year there are three thousand extra staff employed to help cater for the deluge of spectators that will visit the event. For the people of Ascot, I imagine it’s both a huge moneymaker and a terrible nuisance as their village is lost to others.’ By then, she was by Tamara’s side. ‘Yet Royal Ascot is somewhere everyone likes to be noticed. From the women in their elegant outfits, the men in high spirits, horse trainers willing their riders to win, to the colossal amount of money being placed on each race. Well, we want Something’s Got to Give to have the same impact too. Our plan would be to concentrate on one place for a short time before then going wider.’

  ‘You’re talking poster campaigns around the city?’ Arabella butted in again. ‘And adverts in tube stations?’

  ‘No, I don’t feel those kinds of big adverts work particularly well, unless you’re a best-selling author with a new book out. I see them and I move on, although one theory in marketing is that you have to see something seven times before it piques your interest enough. Personally, I think the money for that kind of thing, because ads like that are so expensive, can be better utilised. Instead of going for as many places as we can to get the book seen, I’m talking about going hell for leather for one supermarket and one group on social media. Make them your lead players. Make them feel they have been chosen to represent your book.

  ‘Book bloggers would be our first port of call. If they like the book, their reach can be phenomenal. But because they are so good at what they do, many of them will be booked at short notice. So, we would have to make them our second major priority. The hit list we’d compile would be elite, based on Alexa data on traffic to websites. Some of the popular sites get hundreds of thousands of hits per year.’

  ‘How would you target them?’ asked Jack.

  ‘We would handwrite letters and deliver print copies to our chosen group. We could also arrange a pre-launch event, where—’ Esther looked over at Simone ‘—if you’re up for it, you can meet all the main buyers. You could stand up and talk about the book. No one is more passionate about it than you.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not sure about that,’ Simone piped up. Esther watched as she slipped down in her chair.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ She held up her hand. ‘We can get you through it, again if it’s necessary. Because I have another idea.’

  Esther clicked a further button and the blurb for the book came up on screen. She pointed to it before addressing them all again. ‘Your novel has two female characters. One has committed murder and the other one knows. Hashtag campaigns are a really great way of getting the book seen in many places, so, as well as one or two large-scale advertisements, my suggestion would be to print out two hundred books and send two each out to the top bloggers. Let them read one book and run competitions to give away the second book – i.e. make them feel special because they have been the first and only group to read it.

  ‘But we do this after the elite list has read it. That way readers in the book industry will be crying out for it then. And there will be no other free copies given away. Make it become their priority that they have to get a copy.’

  Esther realised she had everyone’s attention as she continued.

  ‘We can also use something catchy that isn’t necessarily the book title. It has to be short and snappy, quick and easy to type. We can send teasers through the post, with a hashtag printed on them too.’

  ‘Teasers?’ Arabella’s brow furrowed.

  ‘Something like a photograph of two women that has been cut in half, with a jagged edge as if it’s been torn in temper. Reviewers photograph this, with their copy of the book, and share these images everywhere.

  ‘It could have a huge impact on visibility,’ Esther continued. ‘Concentrate all this on the two weeks before publication day and your sales could soar. Then, when everyone is talking about it, we get you slots on radio and TV, and in magazines. I know review slots have to be booked months in advance but as time is of the essence, we want to see if we can get the journalists to come to us. Once everyone has the hashtag firmly in their head.’

  ‘Which is?’ asked Jack.

  ‘#SheDidIt. It’s intriguing, right?’ She looked at them all in turn. ‘Now Something’s Got to Give has a whole new meaning. You hear about the elevator pitch where you sell a book in a sentence. Well, I think “she did it” sells the book in a hashtag.’

  Arabella smiled. ‘I like that.’

  ‘Also,’ Esther went on, ‘print and digital sales are two very different platforms and if you price the e-book low at first – which I know seems counter-productive – it can gain momentum in sales, and, by using the hashtag, the number of units you shift will make it worthwhile.’

  ‘But if people are talking about which one did it,’ queried Oscar, ‘won’t this lead to spoilers if they guess?’

  ‘Readers and reviewers often leave spoilers regardless, so I really wouldn’t worry about that too much.’ Esther turned to look at Tamara. She would either be as mad as hell that she had stolen her thunder or relieved that she had saved her from dying on her feet. S
he held her breath until she was rewarded with a smile.

  Both Simone and Arabella were now sitting forward, and so too were the men from Dulston Publishing.

  ‘Any questions?’ she asked.

  Tamara was happy to join in then and swiftly came into her own. The facts and figures she had forgotten came pouring out of her.

  Twenty minutes later, Jack showed them out of the building.

  ‘Thanks for coming, ladies.’ He smiled as he held the door open for them. ‘We’ll be in touch on Monday to let you know how you got on. But I have to say, I’m really impressed with your campaign.’ He lowered his voice slightly. ‘I’ll be honest with you. I messed up on this. I should have seen it wasn’t working months ago.’

  ‘Well, rest assured, you’ll be in safe hands with us,’ Tamara told him. ‘It does rather depend on your budget, but I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the outcome if you hire us, Mr Maitland.’

  ‘Please, call me Jack.’ He shook their hands again.

  They exited the building and once they were out of sight, Tamara turned to Esther, shoulders drooping. ‘How could I have lost my nerve again? What an idiot I made of myself. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think Parker-Brown PR would have stood a chance.’

  ‘It was something I came up with only last night. I hope you didn’t mind but I knew how important this pitch was for you.’

  As Tamara paused, Esther wondered if she had gone too far. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands, not stopping until it became too painful.

  But then Tamara’s smile was back. ‘You’re right. You rescued me – you did an excellent job in there. I think Jack was impressed.’

  ‘It seemed that way!’

  ‘Simone didn’t say much, did she?’

  ‘I’m not surprised with that battle axe of an agent speaking on her behalf.’ Esther put a hand to her mouth. ‘Whoops, sorry. Just thinking aloud.’

  Tamara giggled. ‘She reminded me of my old dorm mistress.’