As if reading Flic’s mind, Dee held up her hand. “How you came about the idea for your story is irrelevant to me and the rest of the world, Felicity. What is important is that it gets out there before the truth, regardless of how similar our story and the truth may prove to be.”
Chapter Four
“It’s absolutely ridiculous!” Anna said.
Seb lifted the pan and flicked something laced with garlic back and forth like a professional chef. “It looks like it’s true, Anna. You might have to rethink your view on this.”
“So what? Maybe it is true. Why do we have to sensationalize it? Some idiot writes a book that now happens to be coming to fruition—”
“Wow, big word, tiger. I thought you marketing mob liked to keep it simple.”
“It shits me, that’s all. This chick is going to get mega rich from this—”
“Um, excuse me, but isn’t that your job? You really need to get over this, Anna. She’ll make Griffin’s a bucket load of cash. Everyone benefits, not just her. Your Christmas bonus, just like everyone else’s, will be a big one this year.”
Anna mumbled as the Pilates DVD rolled the credits, and she drank from her water bottle. Seb hated Pilates.
Dee Macintosh had made some questionable decisions about publishing in the past, she was only human after all, and Anna was far from perfect herself, but buying into the misery that her beloved church was currently enduring was beyond her understanding. Dee had admitted herself just that morning that things were becoming prickly in Rome. Holy Father, Holy Secret was a gamble on many levels, especially when she had to buy an entire damn company to get it, so why not let one of the other publishers take that risk. Why Griffin’s?
“Is it that she’s gay?” Seb had read the bio Anna had brought home of the author who wrote the soon-to-be-published fictional exposé. “You know, your religion can be completely fucked sometimes.”
“Hey, that’s not fair, and no, it has nothing to do with her sexuality.” Anna said the words, but she wasn’t entirely convinced they were true. “It just seems a little unfair that a lesbian without faith is writing about a gay pope. There must be some agenda. She must have some sort of grudge.” Anna nodded her head. “It’s her grudge that offends me, not her sexuality.”
“I don’t see any evidence that she bears a grudge against the church. It’s your church that openly condemns her sexuality.”
“I’ve not witnessed one person suffer discrimination at the hands of any parish I’ve attended.”
“Oh, come on, Anna, that’s utter rubbish. The priest is hardly going to stand up during Mass and send out the faggot, is he? Your church condemns and discriminates on a global scale. It doesn’t have to pick and choose individuals.”
“It feels so inclusive to me,” she said.
“And I’m not disputing that, but your experience was different. You believe because you choose to, because you were lucky enough to encounter great priests who nurtured your faith and your morals. You have to accept that not everyone has that experience.”
“Well I don’t condemn homosexuality. I know loads of gay people.”
Seb rolled his eyes. “You know two.”
“Well, that’s people.”
“And they’re my friends.”
Anna picked at the mushrooms and onion in the pan before Seb smacked her hand away. “But you can’t argue that I do actually know them.”
“And perhaps you ought not try to argue that you might actually be a little bit homophobic.”
“That’s rubbish!”
“I get that the axis has shifted on everything you love and trust, but this is the twenty-first century, my friend. Love is love.”
Seb had been Anna’s flat mate for nearly two years and they often shared heated discussions. He made valid points, she knew that, but on this occasion, it was just too big for her to swallow without serious consideration.
The pope wasn’t supposed to love anybody, let alone another man. The scandal rocking the Catholic Church was the biggest challenge to her faith that she could imagine. There was a structure to Catholicism that had stood the test of time. It kept the flock safe. The pope kept everyone safe, so what was going to happen now? The pope was a man, yes, but he was God’s highest representative on earth. He was the one man who stood above all men, he was the holiest of men, and this scandal would see him crash to earth unceremoniously.
Anna found it impossible to comprehend that the pope was just human, just a man. So human in fact, he was probably in love. He preached love, he encouraged love for all human beings, but he had no right to find love for himself. Anna fought the overwhelming feeling of disappointment, but it was too strong and she was hastily developing disgust for those so callously keen to tear her church down.
Dee didn’t have to ask how Felicity Bastone had written a novel that was fast becoming true. Gossip was rife in the office about how she came across the facts. Of course, you could tell she was sensationalizing the tale for maximum sales effect, but the rest bore an alarming similarity to real life. An informant in the Vatican wasn’t unheard of, but for her to then selfishly pen a novel exposing the truth, Anna could only surmise that she must have betrayed her informant’s trust. Felicity Bastone was on unsteady, dangerous ground. How dare she assume the right to tell the world private Vatican affairs?
*
Flic’s one-bedroom flat was in an outer London borough, well beyond her means until cashing in from the story she wrote breaking the pedophile ring. She and Laura sipped wine in the lounge, carefully reading the thirty-page document that set out the new terms of her contract.
She’d already signed it of course. Dee Macintosh was hardly going to let her leave the office without the deal secure. Not that she had much choice. If she wanted her book published, and she did, signing on the dotted line was a foregone conclusion.
The contract was the same as her previous one with View Press with the exception of a lengthy promotional clause and the all important advance and royalties section. Laura bothered to read the additional clauses while Flic stalled on the section that clearly stated, upon arrival of the manuscript—already delivered—a cool £50,000 would be deposited into her bank account. Forty-five thousand more than View Press could offer. She took in her modest surroundings; if she made more from royalties, the one-bedroom flat would nearly be all hers.
“Besides the section about publicity and marketing, I think it’s pretty standard.” Laura sipped the expensive wine, purchased as a well-earned celebration. For her own peace of mind, she’d used Flic’s computer to forward the contract to her firm’s lawyers who’d confirmed there were no hidden traps.
In fact, Dee had been frank about the inclusion of the publicity and marketing clauses.
“We need to feed the press something more to focus on,” she’d said. “I want that focus to be you.”
Flic wasn’t convinced.
Dee had been adamant. “If we give you and your book to the press, they can say exactly what they want to say, what they’re dying to say but don’t have the balls to put out there. They can do it all from bloody Rome for all I care, but the pope remains in the news and they need that. Suddenly, they have a brand new avenue to report exactly what’s in your book and that’s everything they’re desperate to report now.”
Laura had nodded when Flic looked to her for guidance. “She’s completely correct. They’ll latch on to you like a leach. They’re struggling for legitimate ways to report it now. They’re out of credible experts, out of historians, and if we deliver them an author with a novel that has practically predicted the future, well, that’s gold to them and to us.”
It had never occurred to Flic that her involvement in the book would be so intense and extensive. Sitting in the vast room listening to people talk at her, she hid her naivety well. Nothing could prepare her for what was to come. In her mind, she’d already put in the hours and done all the hard work. The book was written, edited, and ready. She imagined a rigor
ous social media campaign, maybe a few radio interviews, but that was nothing in comparison to the scale of involvement Dee was suggesting.
“So, how are you feeling?” Laura stretched on the sofa and eyed Flic.
“It all feels so surreal.” She rolled her eyes. “I know that term is overused and usually completely out of context, but I can’t think of a better way to describe what is suddenly happening in my life. I don’t suppose you can swing a week or so off to help me get through Dee’s publicity stuff?”
Laura thought for a moment. “Dee will probably do London bookshops first, then perhaps Manchester, Liverpool, and then head to Scotland or maybe Ireland. I have a feeling she’ll squeeze in a few smaller venues along the way. It’ll be busy.” She accessed the calendar on her phone. “I reckon I can reschedule some appointments or Skype the clients. The initial push should only take a week or so. Yep, I’m in.”
Chapter Five
“Europe?” Flic asked.
“What were you thinking, my dear, Charing Cross Road and then out for high tea?” Dee replied.
High tea sounded just perfect.
Dee couldn’t help but smile. “My gut tells me you’ve written a best seller. Regardless of what comes out about the pope, it’s a good yarn. My business decisions reflect my direction with your book. We need to make it big and I believe I can do just that.”
Flic and Dee were back in the boardroom discussing vague details of the publicity tour while waiting for Anna Lawrence—the apparent marketing genius—to present them with a solid schedule.
Flic felt alone. Laura wouldn’t be able to take enough time off to gallivant around Europe, especially when she wouldn’t be paid and especially when she had clients to manage of her own. Flic had fallen asleep last night safe in the knowledge that the publicity tour would take a week or so of intense appearances in the United Kingdom with Laura by her side. Discovering now that she was kidding herself and that half of bloody Europe was being scheduled, sent her spiraling into a panic she couldn’t suppress.
Before anyone could allay her fears, Anna strode in the room, greeted them with a brief nod, and wirelessly projected a map onto the same wall where a day earlier her book cover had been. She handed them all a thick document entitled Holy Father, Holy Secret—Publicity Itinerary—Felicity Bastone.
The map listed destination after destination. Flic gulped her tea and forced down a biscuit, determined at least not to faint again. She rarely underestimated many things, her line of work ensured she remained open-minded and she’d long ceased being surprised or shocked by the world around her, but she was kicking herself now, and she was only just beginning to understand the anticipated scale of interest in her book.
“As we all know, today is going to be a long day. And probably a long night,” Dee said. “Since five this morning, we’ve had our marketing and graphics team working on your book. The sleeve on a hardcover is important. It’s imperative we get it right.”
Dee kept a close eye on Flic. She knew it was to gauge her reactions, and since holding a poker face wasn’t her greatest skill, she guessed Dee knew exactly what was racing through her mind.
Dee turned to Anna who clicked a button on her tablet and a run sheet appeared on the screen.
Flic’s eyes popped out of her head. “Two weeks? Is that even possible?”
“The book’s ready to go, Felicity. I’ve called in some favors and we have multiple print runs scheduled here, continental Europe, and the States. By the time we leave here this evening, the graphics will be finalized and Griffin Publishers will begin marketing your book, complete with stunning cover, all over the world, first thing tomorrow.”
Anna was nodding. “We’re making the news already. By simply leaking that we bought View Press, we’re already creating interest and intrigue. By the time we ramp this up, everyone in the developed world will know who Felicity Bastone is.”
“Surely you understand we need to move on this quickly, Felicity.”
Dee paced the room. “Ideally, we want your book out before the Vatican or the pope confirms or denies anything. We can’t control what they do, but we can make damn sure we do everything in our power to make the best of the slight advantage we have. The Vatican isn’t renowned for being predictable in these circumstances. Hell, we haven’t seen a crisis of this scale in the modern world. But this is big and I don’t think the church will make any rash decisions. Time, in that sense, is on our side. In contrast, to have a hardcover book hot off the press in two weeks is a race against the clock, and certainly not a feat I’ve ever undertaken. Griffin’s don’t, and won’t, produce a substandard product. It has to look like the masterpiece we’re going to market it as.”
Anna stared directly at Flic before adding, “The timeframe is tight, because when you attack an institution like the Catholic Church, you need to move quickly while you have momentum and before you get shot down in flames.”
“Anna.” Dee’s tone was unquestionably a warning. “I don’t bring my private life to work, and neither should you.”
Anna flushed from below her shirt. The red rash spread to her cheeks. “I asked you to assign this to someone else.”
“And I’m asking you to do your best. I respect your beliefs, but I don’t pay you for them.”
Flic coughed, reminding everyone she was in the room. The exchange had caught her off guard. Why was Anna hostile? She was confused. “I don’t know you, Anna, or your religious persuasion, but can I ask why you interpret this as an attack on the Catholic Church?”
Anna leapt at the chance to elaborate. “The church, my church, provides the framework to hold over a billion people on this planet together. It provides them with a sense of hope and a moral grounding. Our church will welcome everyone. Support everyone. It should be left alone.” She couldn’t disguise her trembling hands.
Flic nodded, inwardly rolling her eyes. She had traveled the world, visited many holy sites, and witnessed the good and bad of countless religions, but by the end of all that, she believed in God no more than she believed in Santa Claus. To argue with Anna was fruitless, and she understood her opinion was no more valid than Anna’s when it came down to it. Faith was simply that, faith, and Anna was a means to an end she would endure until the book promotion was over. Unable to let it go without one final comment though, she said, “That didn’t answer my question, but I accept you have strong faith. I would question, however, the validity of your claims that the church supports everyone. I, for one, am condemned by your faith, and the children that suffered at the hands of the abusers in your church would certainly not share your opinion. But it is your opinion and I respect that. Perhaps you can respect mine?”
“You’re out to destroy our church!”
Flic remained calm. “Only those people who form part of a homophobic institution would view the pope being gay as destructive.”
“Homophobia has nothing to do with this. The pope has allegedly been conducting a forbidden relationship with a cardinal. The pope is married to the church.”
“Well, he sure as hell isn’t married to the Camerlengo, nor can he be under Catholic rules.”
“I know all that,” said Anna. “It wasn’t the point I was trying to make.”
“So, you’re trying to tell me that if the pope were to be in a similar situation but with a woman, the response from Catholics all over the world would be exactly the same?”
“Yes. Precisely.”
“Rubbish.”
Anna turned her back. “You don’t understand. This will destroy us.”
Flic sighed. She didn’t want to leave things on a sour note. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s fabulous news that the pope is in love with a man. Your perspective is not mine. I’m not out to destroy anything, let alone the Catholic faith.”
“I think that’s enough, ladies.” Dee stood as Anna turned with an icy stare. “Time for a break I think.”
Anna marched from the room.
“I’m sorry if I’m
offending her.” Flic poured tea and then turned to Dee. She had been blindsided by Anna’s standpoint. It hadn’t occurred to her that someone in the publishing house wouldn’t be supportive. It was good practice, she convinced herself. When the entire world had access to her book, she would probably face far worse than Anna Lawrence.
“Anna has a unique perspective on many things. When it comes to her job, it serves her exceedingly well, and she can usually separate her personal opinion from that of a professional one. This is, however, proving to be a personal challenge.”
Flic nodded. She found it difficult to dislike Anna, which was strange because usually someone with such narrow-minded views would certainly have bored her by now. The knowledge of marketing and the competent manner in which she conducted herself was keeping Flic engaged for the time being.
Dee smiled. “I suspect Anna could serve just as capably as a nun as she can our head of marketing.”
A nun? Flic wasn’t sure what to make of that. “She’s prudish?”
Dee laughed outright. “If I gave Anna a brief to come up with the sexiest, dirtiest condom campaign Britain has ever seen, it would be outstanding.”
Flic frowned.
“You don’t have to have tasted the cherry to know it’s sweet,” said Dee.
“She’s a virgin?” The question spilled out before she could stop herself, let alone remember the manners her mother taught her. “Sorry, that’s out of line.” She wondered about the possibility of someone in their mid to late thirties actually being a virgin. It was possible but unlikely.
Dee waved off the apology. “Cut her some slack, though. I don’t think she’s had much experience, but she’s a smart woman. Her faith and her job are the two most important things in her life.”
The Fifth Gospel Page 3