by Anna Jacobs
Her mother worried that she was working too hard at her writing and not having a good social life. She even phoned up to talk about it.
‘How are you going to meet men, Jessica love, if you stay at home all weekend?’
She tried to be patient, but it was the same old tale. Her mother wanted her to get married.
‘I do go out, Mum. And I have made friends, Janice and Deb. But no, not a steady guy.’
‘Why not? What are you doing wrong?’
‘Who says I’m doing something wrong. Maybe fate just hasn’t pushed anyone suitable into my path. I won’t go into a permanent relationship until I’m sure of the guy. And I’ve told you before, I don’t intend to marry unless I can find someone I love as much as you love Dad.’
That shut her mother up till next time, but actually Jessica didn’t want a steady boyfriend at this stage in her life. She wanted to get established as a novelist and earn her living from writing. That wasn’t going to be easy, but some writers managed it.
In her letters home during the following year, Jessica talked about the lovely sunny weather, even in winter, and the people she worked with. She didn’t mention her writing, except when her second novel was accepted.
As usual, her mother didn’t ask her what the novel was about, just congratulated her, then devoted the rest of the letter to little Johnny.
‘Can’t you come home for a visit, at least? You’ve never even seen your nephew. If it’s the money for the fare, we’ll buy your ticket …’
She wrote back, ‘I’m waiting till I can come for a month, and I’m too new here to have accrued so much leave.’
She posted some presents to her family in England early in October and a parcel from her parents arrived for her at the end of November. It sat by her television set waiting to be opened, alongside a miniature Christmas tree thirty centimetres high.
There was just the one present and she felt rather sad that this would be her second Christmas on her own. Next year she would definitely go back for a visit. Or even perhaps find a job in England.
And devoted as she was to writing, she knew she had to find something more in life. But what?
She hadn’t met a guy she could fall in love with. Perhaps she never would. She was too picky. An image of Jivan Childering flashed into her mind, but she banished it sternly. No use wishing for the moon. She might find him more attractive than other men, but why should he even remember her in his busy life? He must know dozens of gorgeous women.
And she missed her family quite badly at times.
Were all immigrants like her, torn every which way between the old and the new?
She loved Western Australia and its warm climate. But would it be enough for more than a few years? She was beginning to doubt it.
Things changed drastically at work when Mike Larreter returned from his secondment just after Christmas.
‘Have you seen him yet?’ Barbara asked, as they ate lunch together.
‘I’m booked in for a session with him this afternoon.’ Jessica grimaced. ‘Getting to know one another, he calls it. Why do you ask?’
‘Our Mike’s changed. He’s come back a bitter man. He expected to get the job he was seconded to. He’s hell-bent on climbing the corporate ladder, you know. So now he seems determined to make a name for himself here and show the other department what they’ve missed out on. Or that’s my analysis, anyway.’
‘You’re a very wise woman, Barbara, so you’re probably right.’ The older woman had become a sort of honorary aunt to Jessica.
‘Thank you, dear. And don’t forget to bring your bathers on Sunday. My Don has got our pool just right and there’s a hot day forecast.’
Jessica was feeling lonely enough at the moment to break her vow to write every weekend, so she went to Barbara’s social gathering. But they were all married couples and she felt out of place.
The pace of work hotted up, but Jessica didn’t find Mike bitter. In fact, she found him quite attractive. She hadn’t had a date for a while, so when he invited her out to dinner, she thought why not? It was a bit risky, dating your boss, but she didn’t answer directly to him in her daily work and she definitely didn’t feel like spending another Saturday evening on her own.
It was good to dress up and go out. She enjoyed the meal and Mike’s company, too, but suspected he’d set out to charm her.
After they’d eaten, they walked through Northbridge and sat drinking a cappuccino outside a café. The summer nights were balmy.
When Mike dropped her off at her villa, he tried to coax his way into her bed. She told him bluntly, ‘I’m not into casual sex, Mike.’
‘You said you didn’t have a current partner. Don’t you miss the sex?’
‘No.’ She wasn’t going to tell him she was still a virgin, that her one attempt to remedy that had ended in laughter and a good but platonic friendship. She didn’t know Mike well enough, and anyway, it seemed almost shameful in this day and age to have reached the advanced age of thirty without indulging in sex. ‘Let’s just say that I’m not into risk-taking.’
He started to say something, stopped, then shrugged. ‘Oh, well. One can but try. Blame it all on my crude masculine hormones.’
A couple of weeks later he asked her out again, this time to a cocktail party.
She looked him straight in the eyes. ‘I shan’t change my mind about having sex.’
‘I guessed that. But at least you won’t bore me.’ His lips curved into a smile. ‘The lady who favoured me with her attentions last weekend should have been born in the sixties. She’s certainly into making love not war, so my hormones enjoyed the outing. But she had a minimalist brain and the rest of me got bored.’
She didn’t like the cynical way he talked about women, but in the end she accepted the invitation out of sheer loneliness, and even asked him in for coffee when they got back. ‘One coffee, no sex, just a little conversation,’ she warned, before he could accept. ‘As you see, I believe in laying my cards on the table.’
‘Point taken. Tell me about your writing instead.’
But when she started trying to tell him about her planet, she could see that he had no real interest and they ended up talking about computers and work, as they often did. Barbara was right: Mike was ferociously ambitious.
When she mentioned to Barbara that she and Mike had been out a few times, she thought she saw a strange expression on her colleague’s face for a moment. But she might have been mistaken because Barbara didn’t make any derogatory comment about him.
Going out with Mike occasionally was pleasant, but Jessica knew she wasn’t in love with him, and she was quite sure he wasn’t in love with her, either. She doubted he would really love anyone but himself, and she could guess why his wife had left him.
She told herself she shouldn’t go on accepting his invitations because their relationship was leading nowhere, but he always behaved well, and it was good to get out occasionally.
Seven
At the end of March, which was early autumn down under but still warm, Jessica received a phone call from her editor. It came at eleven o’clock at night, just after she’d fallen asleep. She fumbled for the phone without switching the light on.
‘Jessica? Anna Stephens here.’
‘Oh, hi!’ She couldn’t prevent herself from yawning.
‘Did I wake you up?’
‘It’s eleven o’clock and I’m an early bird.’
‘Sorry. I never go to bed till after midnight myself, so I assumed you’d still be up. Anyway, this is worth being woken up for.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s my great pleasure to inform you that you’re a finalist in this year’s Australasian Star-Writer Awards. You’re up for the best new fantasy series. Now that you’re living down under, you were eligible so our Australian branch entered your books.’
Jessica gasped, tried to find words and failed utterly. This was a well-respected fantasy award.
‘I thought that’d stun
you.’ Anna chuckled.
‘I … how … what …’
‘The award is being presented in Melbourne this year and we hope you’ll be able to attend. We think you stand a good chance of winning, but even if you don’t, being shortlisted will help us publicise your books down under.’
‘Melbourne!’
‘You’ve only to hop on a plane and you’ll be at the other side of Australia in a few hours.’
‘I— Anna, I can’t take it in.’
‘You should be getting used to your books winning awards by now. This is your second time, after all.’
‘I don’t think I could ever get blasé about that. Anyway, when are the presentations?’
‘In two weeks’ time. Are you still working in that government department?’
‘Yes.’
‘When are you going to stop doing that and devote yourself to writing full time? We’d take two books a year from you if you could produce them.’
‘Unfortunately my books don’t earn me enough to live on yet.’ But it was tiring trying to juggle her writing with a job that was growing more demanding and a boss who had tunnel vision about the project and wanted it finished yesterday, but who refused to assign any additional staff to the job.
‘Congratulations from everyone at Meridian. I’ll email you all the details and look forward to seeing you in Melbourne. I have to go over to San Francisco, so I’m travelling via Australia and attending.’
‘That’s rather a long way round.’
‘Well, I have some other business down under and it’s not every day that one of our authors gets shortlisted for a Star-Writer award. We’re all thrilled to pieces.’
When Jessica put the phone down, she lay smiling in the darkness for a long time. Then she sighed. If only she could stop work and write full-time! But though she was always very economical and had some savings now, there was no way she could afford it for more than a few months. The ideal solution would be to find part-time work, but then she’d lose her permanent job.
She suddenly wondered if she’d even get the time off to pick up the award. With Mike in slave-driving mode, it was a struggle to get any leave at all in their area.
Well, from now on she wouldn’t agree to any overtime, even if Mike didn’t like that. She’d been feeling a bit under the weather lately. Nothing she could put a finger on, but definitely not her usual self.
Barbara had noticed, of course, and asked if she was all right.
What Jessica needed was a rest.
When she went into Mike’s office the next day and told him her news, she expected congratulations, but he sat for a moment, frowning at her, then asked, ‘Are you going to resign now?’
‘No. I can’t afford to.’
‘But you’ve just been shortlisted for a big award.’
‘Yes. It’s very prestigious.’
‘How much money is the prize?’
‘Five thousand dollars if I win first prize.’ She waited, but he didn’t answer her original question about taking leave. ‘So can I take a few days off to attend the ceremony?’
The frown was back. ‘It’s very inconvenient.’
He was enjoying this, she realised suddenly, enjoying the power he had over her.
She wasn’t going to put up with that, so looked him straight in the eyes and said, ‘If you don’t give me the time off, Mike, I’ll resign.’ And to her own surprise, she meant it.
He held up one hand. ‘Hey, I didn’t say I wouldn’t, only that it’s inconvenient. You can have a couple of days off. Of course you can.’
‘Three days. The presentations are on a Wednesday night. Even if I fly back the next day, I’ll only be here for the Friday and I’ll be too tired to be much good to you. I might as well take the Friday off and have a bit of a break. I’m getting very tired with all the overtime.’
‘You don’t work for whole weekends, just later in the evening and the occasional Saturday morning.’
‘Most Saturdays, lately.’ She wouldn’t tell him till she got back about her decision to do no more overtime. ‘So, do I get my three days?’
He sighed, the very picture of the aggrieved executive. ‘Oh, very well. Put your leave form in. But no more than three. I want you back here on the Monday, raring to go.’
The phone on his desk rang and he picked it up, not even apologising to her as he did so. ‘Hello. Mike Larreter.’ He covered the mouthpiece and whispered, ‘I’ll take you out for a drink after work to celebrate, Jessica.’
She shook her head. ‘Thanks, but I can’t. I’ve got something on.’ She had nothing arranged, actually, but she no longer enjoyed Mike’s company. It was difficult to end things completely, however, when he was her boss as well. What had she ever seen in him? He was another person who hadn’t asked about her book, only the money.
And he’d recently pressured her again for sex, even tried to physically feel her up against her wishes.
She smiled wryly. Having waited so long, she might as well ensure that her initiation was more than just for sexual relief. She wanted it to be an act of love.
As she got ready for the presentations in her Melbourne hotel, she smiled into the mirror. This time she had a very elegant outfit, the nicest formal wear she had ever owned. The material was a mist of subtly blended shades of green, with an ankle-length skirt and a silk jacket in the dominant green. It had cost her an arm and a leg, but she had given in to the temptation, for once.
She was, Jessica realised, as she went down to meet Anna in the foyer, far more confident than she had been last time she won a prize, and whether she won the award or not, she intended to enjoy the evening.
‘I have a surprise for you,’ Anna said, clasping Jessica’s hand and beaming at her.
‘Another surprise?’
‘A different sort of surprise.’ She beckoned to someone behind Jessica. ‘Voilà!’
Jivan Childering walked across the foyer to join them. He shook Jessica’s hand and held it for a moment in his. ‘I was passing through Melbourne on my way home, and Anna invited me to come tonight. I was in on your first prize and I’d love to be here for your second. Do you mind?’
He had a genuine smile on his face tonight.
‘No, of course not. I’m delighted. Though I can’t guarantee to win the award.’
‘It’s a great series. It deserves to.’
‘You’ve read the books?’
‘Of course I have. They’re excellent stories.’
A shiver of delight ran through her and she couldn’t help beaming at him.
Anna’s voice interrupted them, bringing Jessica back to earth. ‘I have a taxi waiting. Shall we go, Cinderella?’
‘I don’t feel like Cinderella this time.’
‘What do you feel like?’ Jivan asked.
Jessica shrugged. ‘I don’t know. But not Cinderella. That was last time.’
‘You don’t look like her tonight, either.’ He swept his eyes admiringly across her body, not lingering, not harassing, but in an age-old salute from a single male to an attractive female.
She smiled back at him. As usual he was looking very elegant.
Whoa! she told her body. He’s not for you.
But she could look, couldn’t she? And dream.
Because she was sitting at a table with Jivan and Anna, Jessica found herself a major focus of interest from the press.
‘Give us a smile, love,’ one journalist called.
Jessica could feel herself blushing.
Jivan chuckled. ‘I’d forgotten how easily you blush.’
‘It’s the bane of my life,’ she muttered.
‘It’s charming.’
As the dinner ended, the MC stood up to bring them all to the main point of the evening.
When her name was called out as the winner in her category, Jessica had her speech prepared, just a short one, and thought she delivered it quite well; she ought to – she’d practised it in front of the mirror several times.
She retu
rned to the table, cradling the delicate silver figurine holding up an arch of stars. Cameras started flashing, again focusing on her and Jivan.
‘Are you two an item?’ one journo called. ‘What will your ex-wife say? She’s been hinting at a reconciliation.’
Jivan lost his smile at once.
It was Anna who saved the day. ‘You’re off track there, on both issues. Jessica and Jivan are both Meridian authors. I’m the one who invited him here tonight for the presentations, not only because he happened to be in Melbourne but because he was the one who presented the other prize to Jessica in England.’
‘What other prize?’
‘She won our Write A Bestseller award with the first book in the same series. Have you read them? You should. Give me your card and I’ll send you some copies. You’ll see why the books have made such an impact.’
Anna made sure that she and Jessica walked out together at the end of the evening, with Jivan on his own behind them. ‘Poor man. He has only to look at a female for the journos to start making innuendos. They won’t leave him in peace.’
As the taxi arrived to take them back to the hotel, Jivan spotted someone he knew and called out that he would grab another taxi and follow them shortly.
Jessica guessed he was doing this because of the journos. She didn’t blame him for travelling back separately, but felt disappointed, because she’d hoped to chat to him tonight, as they had before. Sometimes, she felt absolutely starved of another person to discuss her craft with.
She’d met a few other writers in Perth, but they were mostly unpublished and the majority didn’t have the fire in their bellies to succeed. One of them had had a rather intense and distinctly miserable novel published by a small press publisher no one had ever heard of and gave himself airs about that, sneering at her for writing ‘rubbish’.
She declined Anna’s invitation to share a nightcap. ‘I’m quite an early bird, really, and with the time differences between Melbourne and Perth, I’m more than ready for bed.’