‘Thank you, Kristy, thank you,’ I said sincerely.
When she hung up, I clutched the phone to my chest and screamed again, jumping up and down on the spot. I ran into my bedroom, threw myself face down on the bed, and screamed into my pillows as I kicked my legs. This was everything I’d hardly dared to imagine when I’d written my first book. There were so many amazing authors out there who were never noticed or offered a traditional publishing deal. It had been a pipe dream, like buying a lottery ticket “just in case” you were the one in a million who won. But it wasn’t a dream anymore. It was real, tangible, almost in my grasp.
‘Oh, thank God.’
I screamed again, this time with terror rather than joy, when I heard an unexpected voice behind me. My heart rattled my ribcage as it began to beat out of control. I threw myself onto my back, ready to launch the phone handset at the intruder and hopefully stun them, giving me time to run to the stairs and escape.
‘Georgie?!’ I gasped, trying to catch my breath and calm down, after I saw it was my friend and not a burglar standing at the entrance to my bedroom, brandishing a poker. ‘What the hell? You almost scared me to death.’
‘Me?’ she exclaimed. ‘What about you? I heard the most awful high-pitched screams coming from your house and thought you were being murdered. I raced over to save you. Look, look,’ she uttered, waving the metal poker around like a light sabre. ‘I was going to try and beat them to death with this. My God, I think I’m about to have a heart attack. I ran here.’ She huffed out a heavy breath and came over to plonk herself down on the bed next to me. ‘What’s wrong? Is Mrs. Tibbles ok?’
‘She might have had a heart attack herself from all the commotion. Crikey, my heart is still racing.’
‘Mine too, so what’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself again?’
‘For once, no,’ I beamed, the feeling of excitement quickly spreading through my body and calming the fight or flight surge of adrenaline that had hit me when I’d heard her voice. ‘It’s only happened, Georgie. My agent only went and got me a publishing deal.’
‘What?’ she cried, her blue eyes wide with amazement as her mouth dropped. ‘Seriously?’
‘Seriously. The meeting yesterday went so well, they emailed her a contract this morning. They were screams of excitement. Pinch me, I need to be sure I’m not dreaming.’ I bit my lower lip as I waited for the sign that this was all real. Things like this didn’t happen to Charlie Faulkner. Luck had never been my friend, but if this was real, good luck was about to push bad luck out of the door and slam it in its face. ‘Owww,’ I moaned, reaching up to rub my arm.
‘You said pinch you,’ Georgie giggled, throwing her poker down on the floor. Seconds later, she’d thrown herself on top of me like a wrestler as she screeched with excitement, which made me scream with joy again. ‘I’m so proud of you, Charlie. You deserve this so much.’
‘Thank you, Georgie,’ I said as she rolled off me, and we lay side by side on the bed together.
‘I guess I owe you girls that slap-up meal I promised.’
‘Oh yes, how about we organise it for Christmas? It would be a great excuse for a girls’ get together and party. We could make it Abbie’s hen party too, as I know she doesn’t want anything crazy.’
‘I like your thinking,’ I nodded. ‘I was going to say I’d like to ask Quinn as well, so if it’s a hen party, I’m sure Abbie will be down with that.’
‘Ok, where should we go? The Fox?’ Georgie asked.
‘I love The Fox, but it needs to be a bit more special than that, you know, double celebration and all.’
‘What are you thinking?’ Georgie propped herself up on her elbows as she looked down at me.
‘Severn Manor. We could make a day of it in the spa, with massages, facials, mani-pedis, then have a slap-up meal with champagne.’
‘Oh, that sounds so good, but expensive.’
‘Well, I’ll happily pay for the meal for everyone, and I’ll treat Abbie to the spa day as her wedding present. That way everyone else only has to pay for their treatments.’
‘Oh my God, how much are they going to pay you if you can afford that?’ she gasped.
‘Stupid money,’ I laughed. ‘Honestly, Georgie, I wouldn’t offer if it was going to stretch me.’
‘Wow,’ she nodded.
‘Wow indeed,’ I agreed. I couldn’t wait to tell Kitt and my parents, they’d be so excited for me. In fact, later I was going to order a double pizza and Kitt could celebrate with me. I could always think about hiring a personal trainer to come and whip me into shape. ‘God, I’m so happy. I know they say money doesn’t make you happy, but it’s definitely not going to make me miserable, that’s for sure.’
‘I hope you’ll still remember us when you’re rich and famous,’ Georgie said, bumping my shoulder.
‘Sorry, who said that? Do I know you, stranger sitting on my bed?’
‘I could go off you rapidly,’ she laughed.
‘Not now you know I’m rolling in it. I know how shallow you are.’
‘Well, I actually came over to say we couldn’t be friends anymore as you weren’t earning enough money, but I guess we can see how things go.’ She grinned at me and I laughed. ‘Seriously, Charlie. Don’t change, we love you as you are. Outspoken, accident-prone, funny, and loveable Charlie Faulkner.’
‘I’ll still be me,’ I reassured her. ‘Just with a bit more money in the bank. My advance is great, and my earnings should go up, but I’m not going to become a millionaire or anything.’
‘Don’t speak too soon. I bet J.K. Rowling and E.L. James never thought that when they got their first publishing deals either, and look at them now.’
I nodded. It was true. Who would think putting words on paper could change your life immeasurably?
When Georgie left, I made a call to my parents to tell them the good news. Truth be told, while they had been nothing but supportive of my decision to give up work to focus on writing, I had a feeling that they never imagined anything would come of it. I believed that they thought it was something I needed to get out of my system before moving on to a “proper job.” I was so proud to prove I had what it took, and to hear the genuine surprise and excitement in both of their voices when they heard the news.
I headed into Shrewsbury and treated myself to a haircut and manicure, and purchased a bottle of my favourite perfume that I’d nearly run out of. On the way home, I called in at the shop to pick up a bottle of champagne and some chicken for Tibbs. I was surprised, and somewhat relieved, to find Joyce Dawson, landlady of The Cock, behind the counter as I set my purchases down.
‘Hello, Joyce. What are you doing here?’ I asked.
‘Just covering while Reg takes Sheila for a check-up,’ she said as she scanned my items. ‘Going downhill fast, poor woman. It’s time he admitted she needs help and that running the shop and post office is too much for her.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, but I agree, she’s definitely been getting worse. What do you think they’ll do, close the place?’
‘In a village this busy?’ she scoffed. ‘He’s looking to sell so they can buy one of those apartments in the old school house down Ivy Lane. Little goldmine this place is. If I wasn’t so busy running the pub, I’d think about taking it over. What about you, you must have lots of free time as you only write,’ she suggested. I blinked at her a few times, amazed that so many people still thought the life of an author was so easy.
‘Actually, I probably do as many hours a day as you do in the pub. It’s not just about sitting for a few hours and throwing some random words down. You have to think of interesting stories, create likeable characters, map it out to make sure you keep the pace moving, as well as do the actual typing. And then you write a bit, read it, change it, write some more, and repeat over and over until you have a draft manuscript, which you then rip to shreds and re-write. And that doesn’t even include all the time you have to spend on marketing yourself and keeping up a social media pr
esence. It’s rare for me to stop working before one a.m.’ I told her.
‘Well, I never. I had no idea it was so involved,’ she nodded, looking suitably impressed.
‘Very few people do. I think they all imagine it’s easy, that it’s really just a hobby, and it’s not. It’s actually a pretty lonely existence as I have to spend so much time in my office alone while I write.’
‘No boyfriend?’ she asked as I handed over some cash.
‘No,’ I replied. I honestly had a feeling that was never going to change.
‘There’s rumour that the pizza delivery guy stops over on a regular basis,’ she said, giving me a knowing look as she handed me my change. ‘You’ll get yourself a reputation if you’re not careful.’
‘There’s a rumour? It’s not exactly regular, Joyce. I think he’s stayed twice since I moved in, to take care of me while I was poorly. Besides, it’s not like that. He’s just a friend.’
‘Just a friend,’ she repeated, eyeing me suspiciously as my blood started to boil. What business was it of anyone’s even if I was getting jiggy with Kitt on a regular basis? How did that warrant me “getting a reputation,” for goodness sake? I was single, he was single, where was the scandal in that?
‘Just a friend,’ I said more firmly. ‘I eat a lot of pizza, that’s how I got to know him. So maybe you could spread that rumour for me, before I’m painted as the next Dilbury hussy.’
‘No need to be touchy, Charlie.’
‘Well, I am when it’s implied that I have loose morals. Just because I write spicy books doesn’t mean that I put it about to get practical knowledge for everything that I write. I have a very vivid imagination. You ought to look a bit closer to home. If anyone deserves to be the subject of warranted gossip, it’s your barmaid Rowena, not me.’ I grabbed my chicken and champagne and stalked out of the shop before I had a chance to say something I might regret. Honestly. You’d think a quaint little village like Dilbury would be a safe place where everyone got along. The rumour mill here was vicious.
‘That’s too funny,’ Kitt laughed as I filled him in on the talk about us. ‘Maybe we ought to give them something to really talk about,’ he suggested.
‘Like what?’ I asked, licking my fingers after pushing the last bite of my pepperoni pizza into my mouth. Kitt was such a novice pizza eater. I’d been doing all of the talking, as usual, and I’d still managed to finish mine before him.
‘We could do a When Harry Met Sally kind of deal. Lots of headboard banging, grunts from me, and howls from you,’ he chuckled. I laughed and shook my head.
‘We could, but only Georgie would get to hear it, and there’s no way that it’s her that’s been spreading gossip. We’d have to go for it in the pub for everyone to witness. You could throw me down on the pool table and we could put on a real show for them all.’
‘If I was lucky enough to get that far with a woman like you, there’s no way I’d want spectators. I’d keep you all to myself.’
‘Thanks, Kitt, that’s really sweet,’ I grinned, rubbing my shoulder against his.
‘So why am I having pizza and champagne with you? You said we were celebrating, but went off on a rant about the villagers talking about us.’
‘Oh God, I did, didn’t I? Well, you’re sitting with an about-to-be-published author,’ I said proudly.
‘Aren’t you already published?’ he asked, looking confused. ‘I mean, I haven’t read one of your books in full, but I downloaded one and made a start.’
‘You’ve read one?’ I squeaked, quickly setting my champagne down as I felt my cheeks heat up and a shudder run down my spine. ‘Ewww, that’s like imagining my dad reading one.’
‘Oh thanks, you see me as your dad?’ he uttered.
‘When it comes to reading … you know … sexy stuff. That I’ve written. I don’t want you imagining me doing that stuff. Oh God, what if my dad’s read it too and he’s imagining? What if he got a … oh no, no, no. Erase that visual fast, Charlie, erase, erase. I need a bottle of bleach for my mind, and I think I just threw up a little in my mouth,’ I groaned, completely grossed out.
‘Hey, relax,’ Kitt laughed. ‘I said I made a start. As soon as it started getting steamy, I put it down. It felt kind of weird to read that, since I know you.’
‘Are you just saying that to make me feel better?’ I asked him, grabbing my flute and knocking back the contents.
‘No. You’re my best friend, Charlie. It’s a bit crap if I have to lie to my best friend, isn’t it?’
‘It is,’ I agreed.
‘I’m still not clear why we’re celebrating, though, as you’re published already,’ he said as he set his box down on the coffee table and twisted to face me.
I poured myself another glass of champagne and mirrored his position before explaining the difference and telling him about my offer. His face changed from one of serious contemplation as he absorbed the knowledge to surprise, and then pride to hear what had happened.
‘Charlie, that’s incredible. You’re amazing,’ he gasped. I laughed, and seconds later was gathered up in his strong arms and enveloped in the scent of the ocean as he hugged me tightly. I hugged him back and rested my head on his shoulder, revelling in the close contact. It felt so nice to have a man hold me. It had been a long time. Sometimes I really wished I felt that primal attraction to Kitt that I wrote about so often. ‘I’m in awe of you. You’re such an inspiration,’ he murmured, planting a delicate kiss on my temple.
‘I wouldn’t go that far, but thank you. It means a lot coming from you.’
‘Because a pizza guy’s opinion matters so much,’ he said with a touch of defeat in his voice.
‘Hey, don’t do that. Don’t put yourself down,’ I warned him, struggling out of the embrace to fix him with a disapproving scowl. ‘I don’t care what you do. Your opinion matters to me, ok?’
‘You say you don’t care, but people do. You’ve never treated me like I’m a lesser man because I do a job that anyone without an education could do, but I’m sick of people judging me, of thinking that’s all I could do with my life. I could be more than this. I was more than this.’
‘Kitt, I had no idea you felt that way,’ I said as I rubbed his forearm in a reassuring way. ‘I assumed you were happy doing this as it fit around your life with your mum. Why didn’t you say?’
‘Because I feel selfish for complaining,’ he shrugged. ‘She’s deteriorating. At some point, I won’t need to do this part-time job and I can focus on being me again, on creating the life that I want for myself. But if I’m free to do that, it means I’ve lost her. That she’s really gone for good, and I’m not ready for that.’
‘No one’s ever ready for that, I’d imagine.’ I let out a sigh and picked up his hand, smothering it in mine. ‘You’re a good man, Kitt. The best. How many sons would give up their lives so selflessly like that? And to get no thanks for doing it from the one person they need it from the most. I feel awful going on about how excited I am for a new chapter in my life when you’re stuck and unable to move on with yours.’
‘Charlie, I …’ He hesitated and closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, before opening them and shaking his head as he held my gaze. ‘I’m sorry. This is the best day of your life and I’m bringing down the mood, going on about my woes.’
‘Friends share their ups and downs. I never want you to feel like you have to hide a part of yourself from me. What can I do to make you feel better?’ I asked, my heart aching for him. He didn’t look like the man I knew. He looked like a little boy who needed his mum to tell him how proud she was of him. He was never going to get that again.
‘I’m thinking a strong coffee to wash down this self-pity and the rest of my delicious pizza,’ he smiled.
‘Coffee I can do,’ I nodded. ‘Ermmm, when did you sneak in the last couple of slices?’ I tipped my head in the direction of his empty box. Had he been scoffing them over my shoulder as we hugged?
‘Seriously? Yours wasn’
t enough for you, you had to finish mine as well?’ he laughed.
‘I never touched it,’ I said, throwing my hands in the air.
‘Well, neither did I. How can pizza just vanish?’
‘Oh no, she wouldn’t,’ I uttered as I shot to my feet.
‘Enlighten me?’ Kitt asked as I scanned the oak floor and spotted a trail of tomato sauce leading out of the lounge door from the coffee table. I skipped over and gasped, putting my hands on my hips.
‘Mrs. Tibbles! Let the pizza go and back away from it now,’ I warned her as I caught her dragging one of the slices across the hall floor. She just glared at me with a “you back away now” expression.
‘Your cat took it?’ Kitt laughed as he joined me.
‘I told you it smelled extra fishy. I should have warned you to put the lid back on the box. Her tail was quivering as she watched you eating it,’ I said. ‘She loves tuna and prawns.’
I strode over, bent down to grip the end of the slice, and pulled. Tibbs gave me a warning growl as she clamped her jaw tightly around her prize, her eyes taking on a demonic sheen. An all-out tug-of-war commenced, her growls getting more high-pitched the longer we duelled. I whipped my hand away when she swiped at it with her paw, but wasn’t quite quick enough as she drew some blood when her claws raked over my skin.
‘You little monkey,’ I hissed as she quickly disappeared, the pizza vanishing out of sight with her into the kitchen.
‘She’s vicious,’ Kitt exclaimed as he came to check my hand, which had a long ruby line across the top of it.
‘Nothing comes between Tibbs and her food. I’m so sorry about your pizza. I’d better put on some gloves to wrestle it from her.’
‘Let her have it. It’s not like I really want it now that she’s wiped the floor with it and slobbered all over it,’ he chuckled.
‘Well, I wasn’t about to put it on a plate and serve it back to you, but she shouldn’t be eating it. Tomatoes aren’t good for cats. I’ll pick off the tuna and prawns for her and bin the rest.’
The Best Medicine Page 14