by Anna Jacobs
‘May I share the joke?’
‘What? Oh.’ She looked at him doubtfully, but there was genuine interest in his face and tone this time. ‘It’s nothing, really. I was just smiling at myself. This presentation night is the sort of situation one reads about in a novel, only I’m not beautiful enough to be the heroine.’
She spoke matter-of-factly. She had no hang-ups about her appearance, didn’t usually give it much thought.
‘Don’t be so sure. Heroines come in all shapes and sizes.’
‘Mostly model-sized and blonde! And they definitely don’t wear glasses, only I can’t get on with contact lenses.’ Jessica smiled, unable to stay annoyed tonight, whatever the provocation. ‘Please don’t think I’m fishing for compliments. I do have a mirror and I try to be realistic. Anyway, I’m a writer, not a heroine.’ She forgot him completely for a moment as the joy of having her novel accepted for publication surged up yet again. ‘This is all so exciting!’
Then she realised how naive that must have sounded and flushed, clamping her lips tight on any more childish comments. But she could feel his eyes upon her and she was surprised to see a more gentle expression on his face.
‘Don’t be ashamed of being excited, Jessica. Joy itself is very attractive and you should share that and your enthusiasm for writing when you give talks, which every writer seems to get asked to do.’
‘Do you still feel enthusiastic about writing?’
‘I love the act of telling a story, not so much the other jobs, like publicising a book.’
The taxi drew up outside a large brightly lit restaurant, where the rest of the group were standing in the lobby. The spell was broken and perhaps it was just as well.
When they got out, Jivan was ushered inside as if he were royalty and Jessica was swept across by someone from Meridian to join the other winners.
Jivan was surrounded by an animated group, but his expression had grown cool again and he looked to Jessica as if he would have preferred to be left alone.
Watching one or two of the women pestering him, trying to catch his attention, Jessica remembered that Sally Mennon had tried to talk about the way women threw themselves at him. He had changed the subject firmly. She grimaced. It must be dreadful to be the target of such behaviour.
Oh, no! When she dropped her bag, he must have thought—
From now on she wouldn’t speak to him, wouldn’t even look at him, unless he addressed her first – and even then she would answer him coolly and move away from him as soon as she could.
Well, thank goodness he hadn’t remembered her from the talk show. That would have been the final straw.
She must stop behaving like a child at a birthday party. She would be calm and sophisticated.
A few minutes later she realised that she’d completely forgotten her resolution, the excitement of the other two finalists re-igniting her own joy. She smiled as she carried on chatting to them. This was not a night to stay calm.
At the table, Jessica surreptitiously slipped the name card from her place into her handbag. It said FINALIST after her name, and she knew she would long treasure it. When the meal was over, she would ask the waiter if she could take tonight’s special menu away with her as well.
Across the room Anna nudged Jivan and whispered, ‘Did you ever see anyone look as radiant as our Jessica does tonight?’
‘No. She seems to be overflowing with happiness. That’s not surprising. We all feel like that when we get our first novel accepted.’
‘Even the great Jivan Childering?’
‘Oh, yes. Even the not-so-great Jivan Childering.’ Surprise echoed in his voice. ‘You know, I’d almost forgotten how I felt then, Anna. It all seems a long time ago now.’ And it felt as though it had happened to another person, one not as battered by life.
‘Tell me about it. You can’t have totally forgotten.’
He fumbled through his memories. ‘I felt wildly excited when I read your acceptance letter. I must have re-read it about twenty times before it really sank in. My flatmate wanted to go out to the pub and celebrate, but I wasn’t interested in drinking. I didn’t need booze because I was high on sheer excitement.’
He smiled. ‘I didn’t sleep at all that night, just lay there, lost in the wonder of it.’
‘And then your book sold very nicely and we had to reprint. You were quite young for such success.’
‘Twenty-four.’ He sometimes felt like ninety now, not thirty-two. He changed the subject to avoid further confidences. ‘Do you know anything about Jessica Lord’s background?’
‘Nothing much beyond the fact that she works in computing.’
He studied her across the room. ‘She’s quite lovely, though she doesn’t think so.’ The quizzical look in Anna’s eyes made him frown. ‘Don’t look at me like that, Anna. The last thing I need at the moment is involvement with a woman. My ex is still stalking me.’
‘Louisa doesn’t let go easily, does she?’
‘No. She’s pestering for a reconciliation, but still playing nasty tricks on me.’
‘We need to find some way to protect you.’
He leaned closer. ‘I need to discuss this with you privately. Would you be free tomorrow afternoon?’
‘For you, I’m free any time.’
‘I’m thinking of moving overseas and becoming truly reclusive. If I stay out of sight for a few years, she’ll stop. I could reappear in short bursts to do PR stuff.’
She looked at him, head on one side. ‘I suppose we could make it work. You shouldn’t have to turn into a hermit, though.’
He shrugged. ‘If I’m to finish the next book on time, I need some quiet time anyway. And you’ve done it again, got me talking about myself. Let’s talk about Jessica Lord instead. Tell me what her book is about.’
‘It’s a fantasy tale. Mostly about some rather engaging aliens, who prove more than a match for groups who want to take over their planet. It’s very original and witty.’
As he glanced across at Jessica, she looked up, catching his eyes on her. For a moment she stared across the room, then her face lost its joy and she nodded to him coolly before turning back to the man sitting next to her.
Anna let out a long, low whistle. ‘What did you say to her in the taxi to provoke that reaction?’
‘I suppose I was a bit – well …’
She finished for him. ‘Stand-offish, if not downright cutting. You’re getting paranoid about women throwing themselves at you, Jivan.’
‘She dropped her handbag, spilled everything. I thought she’d done it on purpose to get into the last taxi with me. If you’d seen some of the tricks women have used, you’d understand why I thought that.’
‘I have seen them. But she’s an invited guest not a gate-crasher. Excuse me a moment. I just have to check that things are ready for the big event.’
Anna was clearly annoyed with him but Jivan didn’t need that to make him feel guilty that he should in any way have tarnished Jessica Lord’s joy in this very special occasion. Guilt continued to nag at him throughout the meal as he surreptitiously watched her. She had an open, friendly expression and the spectacles didn’t detract from her looks in the slightest; in fact, they suited her, drawing attention to her eyes, which were so vividly blue and sparkling with intelligence.
In fact, he really liked her face. She looked like a real person, as unlike his skeletally thin ex, with her cool, lacquered sophistication, as you could get.
Once, when she thought no one was looking, he saw Jessica press her hands to her flushed cheeks as if to cool them down. Nerves, he decided, mixed with excitement. Been there.
No, she wasn’t one of those aggressive women who seemed to keep popping up at him from nowhere. In fact, it wasn’t often that he got the chance to meet someone as unspoiled as she was.
He hadn’t needed to trample on her joy and he would try to make that up to her later on … if he could find a way.
Four
The speeches began a
nd Jessica sat entranced, listening to the CEO of Meridian speak about the rapidly changing publishing industry. She still felt as if she were dreaming.
For a moment she let herself consider what she might do if she won the first prize. Maybe she could use the money to take a few months’ leave and work on her next novel without the need to work elsewhere most of the week. It was so hard to find the time to write. A couple of Sundays ago, one of her cousins had turned up at her flat and insisted on taking her out to a gastro-pub for lunch. Why hadn’t she just dug her heels in and kept to her original refusal?
She was too weak-willed, that was the trouble, especially with her family. She didn’t like to upset them. From now on, she was going to put a huge effort into her writing, every spare minute. No wasting time on drinking in pubs.
‘… and I call upon our main speaker of the evening, Jivan Childering, to take the podium.’
Jessica snapped back to attention.
He walked out with a lithe, graceful stride to face his audience and spoke briefly, but very tellingly, about a writer’s self-imposed loneliness. He gradually brought his talk round to this evening and three people’s reward for all the solitary effort it took to write a book.
As the audience applauded, Anna Stephens stepped forwards. ‘And now, Jivan, we’ll ask you to present the prizes.’
He looked at a piece of paper and read out, ‘Third prize goes to Bob Danzer, for his book, Dangerous Package.’
Jessica sat up in shock. She’d told herself to expect only the third prize. This meant— Oh, it meant she’d done better than that!
The woman next to her nudged her. ‘Not you!’
‘Second prize: Kath Grayley, for her book, Lady in the Shadows.’
Jessica gasped. The people on her table were all nodding and smiling at her.
‘First prize goes to Jessica Lord, for her book, One Small Planet.’
Her neighbour had to poke her in the ribs to get her to stand up. She made her way towards the front of the room and on to the small dais, feeling as if everything was happening in slow motion.
Jivan greeted her with ‘Well done!’ His smile was warm and friendly.
She nodded, swallowing hard and trying to breathe normally. A million faces were turned her way. Noise roared around her like waves upon a shore, lights spiked into her eyes and her throat was a dusty desert.
Jivan seemed to guess how she was feeling. He squeezed her arm briefly, smiled encouragement and began to speak, ‘I’m delighted to present the first prize to you, Jessica.’
He offered her a sealed envelope and she took it in nerveless fingers, almost dropping it, so that he had to clasp her hand around it.
‘Thank you,’ she managed.
‘I’d like to offer you my personal congratulations. To come first out of twelve hundred entries in this biennial competition is quite exceptional.’
The room exploded into applause.
He gestured towards the microphone with an encouraging smile. Suddenly her mind cleared and she knew what to say.
‘I’d like to thank everyone in Meridian Publishing for giving me this chance. It’s the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. But my winning does have its amusing side. I’d like to share with you the reaction of one of my colleagues to my success. He asked what I’d written. I told him – a fantasy novel. He looked disappointed for a minute, before he said, “Oh! I thought it was a literary prize!”’
People started chuckling quietly.
‘Then,’ Jessica continued, still amused by this memory, ‘he seemed to realise that he was being a bit tactless and he said encouragingly, “Still, never mind, it’s a start!”’
She waited while the audience laughed, sharing her delight at the ridiculousness of such intellectual snobbery.
Jivan was chuckling by her side. Jessica’s breath caught in her throat. How gorgeous he looked when he relaxed! No, she mustn’t stare at him. Instead she looked towards the front row, where Anna Stephens was beaming at her.
For the first time Jessica wished she had someone of her own to share this moment with, but she hadn’t invited any of her family to fill the one guest place she’d been allowed. They were so used to considering her odd that they’d be bound to share that with others, and they might even tell people about some of the sillier things she’d done as a child, because half the time she had been so lost in her imagination, she hadn’t realised what was going on around her.
To her astonishment, Jivan kissed her cheek before handing her down from the podium. ‘You’ve done remarkably well,’ he said softly. ‘I’m looking forward to reading your book. And I’m sorry I was a bit tetchy earlier.’
She felt as if she floated back to her seat. Opening the envelope, she stared entranced at the cheque for ten thousand pounds. Someone touched her arm and she blinked up at them.
‘I wonder if you’d mind coming along for some photographs.’ The man gestured to the side of the room. She saw the other prize winners gathering there and put the cheque carefully into her handbag before following them out into the lobby.
She moved as the photographer directed, twisting and turning her head on command. She still felt as if she was in a dream, the most marvellous dream of her whole life.
Anna and Jivan, sitting at one of the front tables, were discussing the main prize winner.
‘I hope that photographer has caught Jessica’s joy,’ Anna said. ‘It’ll make a great cover photo. She’s pretty, too, which never hurts when we’re publicising a book. More importantly, if she continues to write as well as this she could go far. I do hope she won’t waste her talent.’
He looked at her in surprise. ‘Is that likely?’
‘Who knows? Marriage might stop her writing. I’ve seen it happen. And even with a supportive husband, child-rearing might intervene. That book of hers was highly original. Even I enjoyed reading it and I don’t normally like fantasy. She manages to make her characters and situations seem absolutely real, and the alien culture is thought-provoking as well as credible. We’re very hopeful for her.’
He nodded, his eyes still on the lovely woman in blue. Suddenly he envied Jessica Lord, envied the freshness in her, the joy and naivety that life had started beating out of him while he was still a child. Louisa had only added to his sadness.
‘You look tired, Jivan.’
‘Jetlag.’
‘Or worry about Louisa. Is she still causing trouble?’
‘She tried to accuse me of raping her a couple of months ago, but luckily there was a reader who’d followed me outside to get my autograph and he saw exactly what happened.’
‘Didn’t you press charges?’
‘I couldn’t face it.’
‘Pity. Anyway, let’s talk about something more cheerful.’ Anna took hold of his hand for a moment.
He nodded, gave her hand a quick squeeze and managed to smile and nod as the others chatted.
But strangely enough, what cheered him up most was the radiant face at the other side of the room. Could Jessica Lord really be as nice as she seemed? He’d like to get to know her better, but of course that was impossible, given his problems and where he was going to live for the foreseeable future.
Anyway, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t get involved with any other woman, however nice she seemed at first.
At the end of the evening, one of the Meridian people came over to Jessica’s table. ‘We’re going back for drinks in the bar of the hotel. Would you all like to join us?’
To Jessica’s delight, everyone accepted. She didn’t want this evening to end. She had never realised before what fun Cinderella must have had before the clock chimed twelve, or how abrupt the transition into loneliness must have been afterwards.
They piled into more taxis and she hung back to let Jivan go first. She nipped into the ladies when she got to the hotel, so was the last into the bar. A dozen lively people were crammed round two tables pushed together. The group included Anna and Jivan – and, oh dear
, the only empty chair was next to him.
She sat down warily, and to her relief the person on her other side asked her something. When the guy turned to speak to someone else, she sat back, enjoying watching the group, listening to what they were saying.
She glanced to her left and saw that Jivan was looking at her.
‘It’s a novelist’s weakness,’ he murmured.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Watching people. I was watching you and you were watching them.’ He gestured to the group around them, his smile warm. Everyone was chatting noisily, and with Anna away at the ladies’, the two of them seemed to be alone at their end of the table.
‘They seem to be a nice crowd.’
‘They are. Meridian have a good reputation as a publisher and I know from experience that they treat their authors well. Have you recovered from the euphoria of the presentations yet?’
‘Not really. I’m still high on happiness.’
Anna came back and they all chatted for a while, then someone came up to say goodnight.
One after another, people excused themselves. Jessica, deep in conversation with one of the publicists, didn’t notice that there were only three people left until her companion yawned and excused herself.
Jessica sighed. She still didn’t want the evening to end, but was very conscious that she was alone with Jivan and mustn’t make him think she was pursuing him. ‘I’d better get to bed, too.’
His voice was gentle and understanding. ‘You don’t really want to leave, though, do you?’
She glanced at him uncertainly. ‘Well, no. I know I won’t be able to sleep. Euphoria still rules!’
‘Have another drink with me, then, or a coffee. We can have decaf.’ He smiled at her astonishment. ‘I’m a poor sleeper and I’m not ready for bed yet, either.’
Did he really mean that, or was he just being polite?
He seemed to read her thoughts. ‘I meant it.’
‘Well – all right, I will. If you’re sure you don’t mind. I know I couldn’t sleep.’ She was mad to risk another rebuff, but she couldn’t resist the temptation. ‘I’ll have a coffee. Decaf.’