by Lisa Hobman
37
The journey from Inverness airport had been filled with excited chatter from her friends. Josh had remained quiet, evidently sensing the attitude of mistrust radiating from Marco and Shelley, and Zara had been mesmerised by the view through the glass of the russet and gold of the trees that lined the roads. October in Inverness was beautiful, which, of course, meant autumn in Scourie would be even more spectacular. She shook her head and tried to think about different locations in the Highlands that would be just as beautiful.
Someone nudged her, dragging her back from the verge of melancholy. ‘Do you have a speech prepared for the awards, Zee?’ Shelley asked as the people-carrier taxi pulled up outside the hotel in Inverness. Zara opened the door and the chill of autumn entered the car and made everyone shiver.
‘Oh, she doesn’t need a speech, do you?’ Marco interjected.
Shelley whacked him. ‘Marco! You could at least sound confident that she might win, Jeez.’
Not for the first time, he whacked her back. ‘Oy! Actually what I meant was she can just get up there and speak from her heart, Shelley.’
Shelley’s cheeks flushed. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought this was you hinting that the book’s crap or something. I really was willing to fight you, you know.’
Marco burst into fits of laughter. ‘I’d like to see you try. Toby would back me up, wouldn’t you, Tobes?’
Toby snorted. ‘Against Shelley? Are you mad?’
Jake laughed. ‘Ooh, good answer, mate. Good answer.’
As they climbed from the cab Zara observed her friends and Josh with a contented smile. She was so happy that they had all decided to accompany her to the awards ceremony. Loretta had been incredible about getting tickets for everyone and she was pretty sure she had been allocated more than her fair share. Her parents were already in Inverness, having chosen to make a romantic break of the whole event, and would be joining them later and they would all walk to the Kingsman together.
Zara was under no illusions that she would win the award. So she hadn’t prepared a speech. She was just incredibly grateful to be there.
*
Zara slipped on the dress she had bought on her weekend away with her friends and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her mum had tied her hair in a low chignon, slightly off to one side, and her dad had given her some beautiful diamanté earrings that she knew he hadn’t chosen, but the fact that he had gone to the trouble of buying her something was so wonderful and sweet that she had cried.
Now, standing there, she hardly recognised the woman looking back at her. How could this be happening? How could she, Zara Bailey, the travel writer, be attending such a glamorous awards ceremony? She was scared that if she pinched herself she’d wake up.
‘Wow, look at you.’ Josh whistled and she turned to see him in his tuxedo, looking every bit the dashingly handsome man.
‘You don’t look too bad yourself.’
He walked towards her and gently placed a kiss on her cheek. ‘I hope you were in the bathroom so long because you were putting on some sexy underwear ready for later.’
She tilted her head to the side and said, seductively, ‘Oh, now, that would be telling.’
38
The Kingsman was buzzing when Zara and her entourage arrived. A group of reporters snapped photos and there was a TV crew from Scottish Television broadcasting live as celebrities’ cars pulled up surrounded by security. A huge crowd of people was gathered and Zara wondered why. It was a prestigious literary awards’ ceremony but these things didn’t usually attract such raucous crowds. A loud cheer roared and Zara’s stomach knotted with anxiety as she looked back over her shoulder to find out what was going on. She watched as rock star Nick Dacre climbed out of a black car and waved to the gathered crowd. Her heart leapt.
Bloody hell, I’m going to be in the same room as Nick Dacre? It did nothing to calm her nerves.
She caught sight of herself in the mirrored exterior doors and had to do a double take. The long, fitted black gown she wore made her look incredibly sophisticated, even if she did say so herself. Once inside her mum gripped her hand as they walked towards a set of double doors, flanked by security. They stepped through the doors into the room where the awards would be taking place and Zara gasped as she tried to absorb everything before her. Huge chandeliers hung from a ceiling draped with fabric. Round tables with the most wonderful floral centrepieces covered the full extent of the humongous room. Zara hadn’t realised that the hotel was quite so big when she had visited it with Loretta. But it was massive. A smartly dressed blonde woman took their names and showed them to their table. Loretta and her husband were already there, and they greeted Zara with hugs before she introduced them to the people she had brought.
There were several awards to be presented and from the running order Zara’s category was going to be one of the later ones of the evening. Great, longer to become a nervous wreck, she thought as she glanced round the room. There were various familiar-looking faces, but when her gaze fell on one particular face her heart almost jumped from her mouth.
‘Oh, my God, Shelley, it’s Ruby Oatley. Ruby Oatley is sitting right over there.’ Zara couldn’t quite believe she was sitting in the same room as a rock star and her absolute favourite author in the world.
Shelley twisted in her seat to look in the same direction. They had shared a love of Ruby’s books for many years. She slapped her leg. ‘Oh, my word. We have to go say hi, Zee. We have to. I’d never forgive myself if we didn’t,’ she insisted. ‘Ooh, ooh, maybe we could ask for a selfie.’
Zara cringed. ‘Oh, I don’t know. I’ll probably make a total fool of myself.’
‘No, you won’t. Come on. I’ll do the talking.’ She grabbed Zara’s hand and tugged her from her seat.
Once they reached Ruby’s table Shelley tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Excuse me. I’m sorry to intrude. But my friend and I have been huge fans of yours for years and we had to come and say hello.’
Ruby stood and smiled graciously. ‘Oh, that’s so lovely, thank you.’
‘Yes, we’re here tonight because Zara is shortlisted in the Best Unpublished Newcomer category, aren’t you, Zara?’
Zara, transfixed on her favourite author, nodded and said, ‘I write books now.’ What the hell did I say that for? Oh, God, what an idiot. Idiot, sodding, arsing idiot.
Ruby grinned and shook both of their hands. ‘Well, good luck to you, Zara. Have a wonderful evening.’ Just then a voice came over the sound system asking everyone to take their seats, so Shelley quickly dragged Zara back to their table.
‘I write books now? I meet my favourite author in the whole world and all I can say is I write books now. Fuck me, I’m a total plank.’
Shelley giggled. ‘Hey, just think, some utter loon might behave like that when they meet you one day.’
As they turned to walk back to their table someone stepped into their path.
‘Zara, you look stunning.’
She lifted her face and her eyes were met with the sexy dark gaze of Lachlan Grant. He looked amazing in his dinner jacket. All clean-shaven and smelling delicious as usual. ‘Lachy? What are you doing here?’
‘I’ll, erm, see you back at the table, Zee,’ Shelley whispered before hurrying away.
He watched Shelley walk away and took a step closer. ‘I… erm… I wanted to see you. God, I’ve missed you. I knew that you were shortlisted and, after the way things ended when I came to your hotel room that night, I wanted to speak to you. To find out why—’
Zara stiffened her spine. ‘I have nothing to say to you.’
‘Zara, please, just tell me—’
‘Hey, gorgeous, is this guy bothering you?’ Josh asked as he appeared beside her and slipped his arm possessively round her waist.
‘No, Josh, it’s fine, he’s just going back to his table.’
Lachlan’s gaze switched rapidly between Zara and Josh and he pointed. ‘Is this… is this the Josh?’ he asked with incre
dulity.
‘Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.’
His brow crumpled and he opened and closed his mouth several times before saying, ‘Why the hell are you back with him? After what he did—’
Josh stepped forward. ‘Hey, mate, I don’t know what you think you’re playing at but just do one, okay?’
Zara’s heart pounded in her chest and she feared a fight would break out so she grabbed Josh and tugged him backwards. ‘Look, Josh, I think things are about to start. We’d better go.’ He nodded and gave Lachy one final, intimidating glare before walking back towards the table.
Once he was out of earshot she hissed at Lachy, ‘I don’t think you have any room to talk, Lachlan Grant. I know all about Saskia. And for your information Josh has made amends. He was the one to send my manuscript to the Original Fiction competition in the first place. Without him I wouldn’t even be here tonight. Now I’m going back to my seat and I would thank you to stay away from me. I’m here to celebrate with the people I love, and I don’t need any histrionics, thank you very much. So, please, just go back to your friends.’
A strikingly beautiful black-haired woman who bore a strong resemblance to Loretta appeared at his side and slipped her hand up his chest. ‘Lachy, darling, are you coming back to the table?’ Saskia.
He turned to stare at the woman and removed her hand from his body. ‘Do you ever listen, Saskia?’ He turned his attention back to Zara and, with a pain-filled, sad shake of his head, he told her, ‘Don’t believe everything you’re told. I thought you of all people, as a journalist, would already know that.’ Then he turned and walked away.
Her lip began to tremble and her hands shook. What did he mean? Why did he look at her as if she had just broken his heart? She slowly walked back to her table as the lights went down. She took her seat and each member of her group wished her luck. Josh reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. She forced a smile and feigned excitement. Whatever Lachlan had meant, it would have to wait for now. And maybe she’d never find out.
*
The atmosphere at the ceremony was incredible. So many talented writers were acknowledged for their contributions to contemporary literature and Zara couldn’t quite believe she was in the same room as them. Ruby presented one of the awards and her speech about the winner was so heart-warming. Zara could only dream of being so eloquent.
‘Next, ladies and gentlemen, we have the award for the Best Unpublished Newcomer,’ the compere, a Scottish newsreader, announced. Applause rang round the room and each member of her group reached over and whispered good luck or squeezed her hand. Zara’s heart was en route to her mouth now instead of trying to escape through her ribs. And she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to cry or barf. Thankfully she managed to refrain from either.
‘To present this award we have a man whose career has been a roller coaster, to say the least. He has battled anxiety and some very tough decisions about his career. These days he’s settled and made a life for himself in the Scottish Highlands. I would like to welcome to the stage, author of the tell-all autobiography The Worst of Me, ladies and gentlemen, Sonic Idols’ Nick Dacre.’ Zara’s ears began to ring and she wasn’t sure if it was the fans’ screams in the auditorium or her own blood whooshing through her veins, but she stared at the stage as her favourite rock star walked up in a tuxedo, looking like sex on legs. She turned to her side and burst out laughing as Shelley sat there in stunned silence – a first for her – as she looked on.
The applause eventually died down and Nick began to speak. ‘Thank you, thank you, everyone. It’s great to be here tonight to present this award. Anyone, be it a musician, actor or an author, who puts themselves out there open for public scrutiny does so with such braveness. I know this from personal experience. And I know how it can backfire too. Yet people still choose to do it. Not because they’re desperate for fame or fortune but simply because it’s part of who they are. So much so, that without that element of themselves they wouldn’t be themselves. I know this to be true. And so I’m full of admiration for this talented group of writers who are embarking upon this journey right now. I had the pleasure of reading these books after the votes had been cast and all I can say is I’m so glad I’m only presenting the award and not choosing who wins it. So, without further ado, the nominations for Best Unpublished Newcomer are… J. D. Bolton with A Secret Kept… Clara Higgson with A Girl’s Best Friend… Zara Bailey for New Beginnings… Jack Danson for He Came Back Alive… D. S. Binns with Somewhere Only We Know and Hallie McPherson with Sunset Over Paradise…’
He opened the envelope and leaned into the mic to say, ‘Good luck, everyone, you’re all awesome.’ He pulled a gold card from the envelope and announced, ‘And the winner is…’ The pause seemed to last hours even though it was merely seconds, and an air of suspense filled the room as everyone held their breath. Zara almost lost feeling in her fingers from where they were being squeezed and it was hard to hold her excitement in. She was shortlisted in a major UK literary awards for the first thing she had ever written. If she won, it would be a dream come true, but the fact she was sitting there in that room as a contender was barely believable as it was.
39
Nick Dacre, lead singer of Zara’s favourite band, was about to announce the winner of her category and she could barely breathe. He leaned in to the mic once more as if in slow motion and announced, ‘D S Binns with Somewhere Only We Know!’ The room erupted with applause and Zara was enveloped in a group hug of condolence, but in a way she was relieved. She wasn’t sure she was ready to be thrust into the limelight in such a public domain. At least this way she could pursue her dream in her own time. And she would definitely be making time from that moment, she had decided.
‘Are you okay, love?’ her mum asked, holding her face so she would focus.
Zara nodded as best she could. ‘I’m fine, Mum. I’m absolutely great. This entire evening has been a dream come true. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t win. Nick Dacre read my name out.’ She grinned and her close group all laughed and hugged her harder.
‘Well, it’s good that you’re taking something positive away at least,’ Shelley said through watery eyes.
The winning author was giving an emotional speech on the stage and once again Zara was filled with relief. It would have been incredible to win, no doubt, but she wasn’t one for speaking in front of masses of people, especially not when ugly crying and with snot all over her face. No, this was a blessing in disguise.
Loretta came over and hugged her. ‘I’m so proud to have you as a client, Zara. And I know for a fact that you have a big future ahead. Next year you’ll be sitting here in the best author category, you’ll see. Oh, and I know it’s Sunday, but we have a breakfast meeting with Shonagh McAllen, Dominic’s wife, in the morning.’
Zara pulled away and stared at Loretta. ‘Why? Why would we have a breakfast meeting with Shonagh McAllen?’
Loretta grinned. ‘Oh, well, she’s an acquisitions editor at a major publishing house here in Scotland and let’s just say there may be a very interesting and potentially lucrative offer on the table.’
Zara gasped. ‘Really? But I thought—’
Loretta shrugged. ‘They want you. What can I say?’ She kissed her on both cheeks. ‘Now relax and enjoy the evening. But don’t enjoy it too much, okay? You need your wits about you tomorrow, Miss Bailey.’
Zara sat staring into space in a stunned stupor. So she didn’t win the award but she was possibly being signed anyway? This couldn’t be happening… could it?
At the end of the awards the bar was opened and everyone mingled, chatting and networking their way round the vast room. Loretta had gone and her mum and dad had left too, with hugs and instructions to call them as soon as her meeting was over in the morning. Nick Dacre had come over to congratulate her on the shortlisting and she had to force herself not to fangirl all over him.
He fixed her with a sincere look. ‘Honestly, Zara, my money was on your
book. I absolutely loved Evangeline and so did my wife. We were rooting for her from the very beginning. I reckon New Beginnings will be on the shelves in bookshops in no time at all.’
Shelley interjected, ‘Nick, this is really forward and possibly quite inappropriate, but can I take a photo of you with Zara, please? She’s a huge fan… well, we all are.’ Zara looked behind her to see Marco, Toby and Jake nodding like those little plastic dogs you saw in cars.
Nick looked a little embarrassed as he grinned and lowered his eyes for a moment and Zara made a mental note to slap Shelley for this. But he lifted his face and slipped his arm round Zara’s shoulder.
With a wide, handsome smile he said, ‘A photo with my new favourite author? This will be one for my wall.’ Zara’s legs almost gave way. How the hell was any of this happening?
Shelley snapped several photos with her phone and said she’d email one to Nick’s publicist. He made her promise.
Eventually Zara, Josh and Zara’s friends decided it was time to leave the ceremony and make their way back to their hotel.
As they walked towards the exit Marco asked eagerly, ‘So who’s up for a nightcap?’
Zara cuddled up to Josh. ‘Not me, sorry, guys. I have a breakfast meeting with my literary agent, dontcha know.’ She grinned like the Cheshire Cat and a resounding, ‘Ooooh,’ came from her friends.
‘Well you go ahead back to the hotel then. I think I can speak for the rest of us when I say the night is young?’ Marco looked to the others for confirmation. Once he’d received it, he continued, ‘A club it is then! Josh, you’d better let her sleep tonight,’ he warned and Zara could tell he wasn’t kidding around.
After hugs and kisses, her friends left to look for a venue in which to continue their fun. As she was about to exit with Josh she glanced round the room once more. There was no sign of Lachy so her chance to find out what he’d meant was gone.
‘Come on, we’ll grab a taxi, eh? It’s a bit chilly out there,’ Josh informed her as he removed his jacket and wrapped it round her shoulders. She silently hoped that Marco and Shelley would forgive him soon as he was trying so hard to make amends.