‘Guys, you’ve got something I want.’
‘Och, I’m a happily married man,’ Nicholas said.
‘And I’m a pillow biter,’ said Cam.
‘Damn!’ Jojo clicked her fingers. ‘Foiled!’
‘Anyhow,’ Nicholas drawled, ‘a little bird tells us that you’re humping our Managing Partner.’
Jojo coloured. She hadn’t expected this. Did this mean that all the partners knew? ‘What little bird? Let me guess.’
‘That spotty youngster, Richie Gant.’
She shrugged, keen to hide her anger. ‘What can I say?’
‘And the very same Mark Avery’s coming in to see us later,’ Nicholas turned to Cam and feigned surprise. ‘Isn’t that a coincidence, Cameron? Both of them here in Edinburgh on the same day?’
‘Aye, Nicholas, a coincidence is right.’
‘But they’d have come up on different flights, of course.’
‘Of course,’ Cam said and turned to Jojo, ‘Did you?’
She forced a laugh. ‘OK, you busted me.’ Jeez, this pair were tough.
‘Relax, doll,’ Nicholas purred. ‘Have your dirty weekend away. Where are you staying? Somewhere gorr geous? The Balmorral?’
Jojo inclined her head. Damn. She wished now she’d booked them into some grungy B&B with twin beds and a bathroom down the hall. It looked like she’d fitted this meeting in around her sexy mini-break and these guys were way touchy as it was.
‘We don’t like Richie Gant,’ Nicholas said, languidly. ‘Do we, Cam?’
‘No,’ Cam agreed, almost dreamily, ‘he’s heinous.’
‘Might I suggest o dious.’
‘Atrrocious.’
‘Monnnstrous.’
‘He’s been to see you, right?’
‘Oh aye. Months ago, soon as old Jock announced he was off.’
You had to hand it to the little fuck, Jojo thought. He doesn’t miss a trick.
Keep smiling, she told herself. There was nothing else she could do. And try not to be patronizing, however you did that. Think R-E-S-P-E-C-T.
‘So you know why I’m here?’ She produced her presentation, which went through her list of authors, using pie-charts, graphs and venn-diagrams to show what excellent long-term prospects they were.
‘Not now,’ Nicholas waved it away. ‘Leave it with us. We’ll have a read of it when there’s nothing good on telly.’
‘Now we have you to ourselves, we want to know something about you.’
Jojo sighed theatrically. ‘You want me to prove I’m a real red-head. The number of times…’
That made them laugh. Luckily.
‘Tell us about you being a policewoman. Did you ever have sex in uniform? With a male colleague?’
‘Oh Caaam,’ Nicholas berated. ‘You can’t ask the girl that.’
‘Sure he can!’
‘So did you?’
‘’Fraid not. I’m sorry, Cam. But I did have sex with a firefighter – he was my first real boyfriend – and sometimes he was in uniform, well kinda, as much as he could be. And sometimes I wore his helmet.’
‘Tell me more!’
‘But I want to know about chasing the bad guys,’ Nicholas said.
‘I can multi-task.’
It wasn’t quite what she’d expected from the meeting but if this was what it took to get her a partnership, then this was what she’d do. So she told them about the man who pulled a gun on his neighbour for having his TV on too loud, about finding a suicide victim hanging in a closet and about her dad’s corrupt phase when he used to come home with household appliances that he insisted he’d paid for. She worked hard at making her stories dramatic and scary, and when it was time for Nicholas and Cam to leave for their lunch meeting, Nicholas said, ‘Jojo, you’re a tonic!’
‘I know we joshed you a bit but we do appreciate you coming to see us,’ Cam said. ‘You’re a good sport, not like that cry-baby Aurora Hall.’
‘She’s been too?’
‘Her and that other Sloane, Lobelia French, and the chin-less wonder, they’ve all been. We were wondering what was taking you so long. We thought we might have offainded you.’ They leant into each other and shared yet another in-joke chuckle.
She stood up, extended her hand, said, ‘Thank you for your time,’ and turned to go.
Nicholas and Cam looked at each other – startled. ‘No presents?’
Shit, Jojo thought. Richie Gant probably brought bottles of booze, cigars… dancing girls. And the Sloanes would have been able to bring ancient bottles of wine from Dad’s cellar. She should have thought of this.
‘No gifts,’ she said sorrowfully. ‘I didn’t think of it.’
‘We like gifts.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘But we respect you for coming empty-handed.’
‘You do? So am I in?’ She grinned.
‘We’ll have to look at the records of all the candidates – Goad, how tedious – but we like you. Don’t we?’ He turned to Cam.
‘Oh aye, we like you well enough.’
‘I’m not heinous?’
‘No. Or odious, atrocious or monstrous. In fact you’re quite aromaatic.’
‘And picturesque.’
‘Exaactly. An area of outstanding natural beauty. Have a lovely, saixy weekend with the lovely, saixy Mark Avery.’
On Sunday night, when Jo touched down at Heathrow, she was happy. All in all, after a ropey start, her meeting with the Edinburgh partners could not have gone better.
* * *
Monday morning, early November
TO:
[email protected] HAIGH.co
FROM:
[email protected] HAIGH.co
SUBJECT: News. Possibly bad
Jocelyn’s changed his leaving date to January. He started with Lipman Haigh in January thirty-seven years ago and, ever the traditionalist, he wants a nice round sum.
TO:
[email protected] HAIGH.co
FROM:
[email protected] HAIGH.co
SUBJECT: Thirty-seven isn’t a nice round sum
!
J xxx
Brits, Jojo thought. Mad as cut snakes.
TO:
[email protected] HAIGH.co
FROM:
[email protected] HAIGH.co
SUBJECT: News. Possibly bad
This means the partnership decision won’t be until January either.
Jojo stared at her screen. ‘Shit.’ She’d been totally geared for the end of November. Her life, while it hadn’t exactly been on hold, had been way, way focused.
Monday night, Jojo’s flat
‘What do we do now?’ Mark asked.
‘About what?’
‘About us.’
Jojo lapsed into thought. ‘We said we’d wait until after the partnership decision. Nothing has changed. We just push it back a couple of months.’
‘What’s the point in waiting? Everyone in work knows anyway, thanks to Richie Bigmouth.’
‘I thought we were on the same page here.’
‘I’m tired of waiting and everyone knows.’
‘But like you said in the summer, everyone knowing we’re having an affair isn’t as bad as you leaving your wife and setting up home with me. C’mon,’ she cajoled Mark. ‘There’s not that much longer to wait.’
But he wouldn’t be persuaded. He was pissed off with her and didn’t even try to hide it.
‘You were the one who wanted to wait until after the partnership decision!’ she said.
‘But now that everyone knows, it’s kind of moot. I’m going home.’
She heard the door close behind him. Oi, she thought. This didn’t feel so good. And there was something else on her mind…
Wednesday morning
Jojo switched on her computer. She was anxious. The new best-seller list appeared at nine o’clock, every Wednesday morning and she was a little spooked about how Lily Wright’s new hardback was doing. After the runaway success of Mimi’s Remedies, everyone had blithely expected it to fly and in some of Dalkin Emery’s more upbeat marketin
g meetings there had been talk of a Christmas number one. But, initially at least, Jojo had had slight, niggly doubts; Crystal Clear was a very different book to Mimi’s Remedies. (Actually, it was excellent; an intelligent, compassionate slice of social commentary. But extreme realism, as opposed to Mimi’s Remedies, which was uber–escapism.)
Tania had got Lily to send Crystal Clear to her without Jojo having seen it and by the time they’d involved Jojo it was a done deal – a little bit naughty of Tania. If Jojo had seen it she might have advised against publishing it, she might have suggested it would be better for Lily to take a year out and write another book. But she wasn’t given the chance.
And it had to be said, Tania raved about Crystal Clear– and Tania knew her stuff. More importantly, she’d secured a massive advertising and marketing budget; clearly all of Dalkin Emery were on board. In May, just after Tania had accepted the book, Jojo had attended a preliminary marketing meeting and they were all so wildly gung-ho that even she was genuinely convinced. They were spending shedloads, everyone – booksellers, readers – loved Lily and Crystal Clear was a great book. This would work.
But there had been late-in-the-day wobbles. In August two supermarket chains halved their orders after their buyers read a proof copy and discovered how different Crystal Clear was to Mimi’s Remedies. Then Dalkin Emery lost their nerve with the jacket – which was very similar to Mimi’s Remedies – yanked it and replaced it with a more serious one.
Publication date had been the twenty-fifth of October. Early, but unscientific, reports from shop floors indicated that sales were slow but this list was the acid test.
Jojo scrolled down through the top ten: nothing. The top twenty: nothing. There was Eamonn Farrell, at 44, and Marjorie Franks, one of her thriller writers, holding steady at 61. But where was Lily? On she scrolled, down, down, down. I must have missed it, she thought – and then she spotted it, buried deep at number 168. In its first week on sale it had sold a pitiful 347 copies. Shit. Crystal Clear had been expected to debut in the top ten but it looked like it was sticking to the shelves.
‘Mimi’s Remedies was a slow starter,’ Manoj reminded her.
‘Mimi’s Remedies didn’t have a two hundred k campaign behind it.’
Right away, she got onto Patrick Pilkington-Smythe, Dalkin Emery’s Head of Marketing, pushing for a bigger spend. ‘We need more print ads, especially in Sunday papers, coming up to Christmas. And the cover price needs to come down.’
‘Steady. Let’s not do our headless-chicken act just yet,’ Patrick drawled. ‘Early days. Lot of big books out at the moment.’ OK, maybe he had a point. From September onwards there was always a glut of hardbacks, published just in time to be considered for the Booker. Not to mention biographies from every F-list celeb in the country hoping to be bought as Christmas gifts. ‘It’ll pick up nearer to Christmas.’
Jojo’s gameplan had been to open negotiations for Lily’s new contract the week after Crystal Clear came out – like, today – when, if everything had gone as it should, Lily’s star would be at its zenith. Jojo had hoped she could do the negotiations in her sleep; that all she would have to agree with Dalkin Emery was whether they’d like to give Lily an obscene amount of money, or simply a disgusting quantity. Now she wasn’t so sure.
On the plus side, Lily was about to start a three-week promotional tour. Perhaps that would kick-start sales.
She rang Tania Teal. Making sure she sounded upbeat and confident, she sang, ‘Time to talk turkey. Lily Wright’s new deal. We’re ready for our close-up.’
‘Close-up of what?’
Shit. Jojo kept it steady. ‘Of her new contract.’
‘Rii-iight. I see. You said she was working on something new? It would probably be best if I took a look at it. Like, before we settle on a figure.’
This was not the enthusiastic response Jojo had hoped for. Was this the same woman who had bugged her day and night last May, to sign a new deal?
But staying cheery, she said, ‘Seven chapters of Lily Wright’s FABULOUS new book being biked over to you right now. Get your cheque book ready!’
Wednesday evening
She met Becky after work for a quick pizza.
Once they were settled Jojo said, ‘Guess what? My period’s late.’
Becky became very still. ‘How late?’
‘Three days. I know it’s nothing, but I’m always way regular. And I feel weird.’
‘How?’
‘Sort of… dizzy. And I sort of don’t want to smoke.’
‘Christ. Oh my God.’ Becky bit her knuckles. ‘Have you done a test?’
‘This morning. Negative. But it’s early, like, too early?’
‘Could it have happened?’
‘Mmmm, we use condoms but… accidents happen. And we did it right in the middle of the month. Easy to remember exactly when, when you’re seeing a married man.’
‘Less of the violins,’ Becky said. ‘Andy and I haven’t had sex at all in the past month.’
‘Are you two OK?’
‘Never better. You just wait until you and Mark stop having sex, then you’ll really be together. How d’you think Mark will take it?’ Becky chose her words carefully. ‘Is there a chance he might not be happy?’
Jojo considered. ‘Sure.’ She half-laughed. ‘But he might be psyched. But what about me? Am I happy?’
‘Are you?’
‘It’s not the right time to have a baby.’
‘But it’s never the right time – for anyone, not just you. By the time it’s the right time, it’s often too late.’
‘You’re right. A baby isn’t the end of the world. It’s just… I feel so bad for Cassie and the kids. This will make things far worse.’
‘Maybe this is no accident,’ Becky suggested. ‘Perhaps he’s trapping you. Or perhaps you’re trapping yourself.’ She sighed. ‘Lucky you, I’d love to get up the duff but we can’t afford to have a baby yet.’
‘If I become a partner my income is actually going to drop over the next three years.’
‘You what?’
‘Partners have to invest money. Now that Jocelyn is leaving – if he EVER does – he’s taking his moolah with him. The new partner will have to replace it.’
‘How much?’
‘Fifty grand.’
‘Fifty grand? Where are you going to get that sort of money?’
‘I’m not. So how they do it is they deduct it from future earnings and pay me fifty grand less over the next three years.’
Thursday evening, Becky and Andy’s
Andy answered the door. ‘Well?’
‘Test is still negative. But…’
Andy shook his head, ruefully. ‘My advice? Don’t tell him. Just go away and quietly have a termination.’
‘No way,’ Jojo scorned. ‘This is his problem too.’
‘Oh-ho!’ Andy clapped his hands together. ‘This will separate the men from the boys.’
‘Get over yourself.’ But Jojo couldn’t help wondering if Mark would run for the hills? Try to insist she had an abortion and hot-foot it back to the haven of his marriage? ‘I’m going to tell him. And you know what? If he tries to dick me around, I’ll laugh in his face.’
Friday evening Jojo’s flat
‘Guess what?’ Jojo said.
Mark looked at her, did a once-over and something changed in his eyes, as if he’d retreated. ‘You’re pregnant.’
She paused, startled. ‘Damn, you’re good. Well, my period is five days late, but the test is negative.’
‘Doesn’t mean a thing. Same with Cassie. Test kept showing up negative but she was pregnant alright.’
They stared at each other, taking in that statement, then both dissolved into horrified giggles.
‘Fuck!’Jojo breathed. ‘Well, we all know what happens next. This is the part where everything falls apart for me. You bail on me and you fix it so I get sacked.’
‘Then you find out Cassie is also pregnant, slightly ahead of y
ou and we’re having a big party to renew our wedding vows.’
‘I only find out when I get sent the invite by mistake.’
This was familiar stuff and it made them laugh.
‘You should know this: my dad will go apeshit and want to kill you. He’ll call on you late some night with my three brothers and a shotgun.’
‘I’d better make an honest woman of you, in that case.’
Then the news seemed to hit him and he lapsed into silence. He wiped his hand across his mouth once, then again. ‘Um, this kind of focuses the mind.’
‘Are you going to run out on me?’
His hand froze and he looked up at her, horrified. ‘No.’
‘Correct answer.’
‘But this is big stuff, Jojo. Big, unplanned stuff.’
‘Duh! I had noticed.’
‘I reckon I always assumed this would happen sometime. Us. Babies.’ He paused and added dismally, ‘But not this soon.’
‘How bad do you feel?’
‘Quite honestly, Jojo,’ he met her eyes and she could tell he was wavering between fobbing her off and producing an answer that came from some very honest, deep-buried part of him, ‘quite honestly, I would have preferred us to have some time together on our own, before children came along. Starting our life together already sharing it with someone else, I suppose I…’ he sought the right word ‘… I resent it.’ He sighed heavily. ‘You know how much I love my kids. And I’ll love ours too. But after the months of hole-and-corner stuff, I wanted us to have some – ‘he half-laughed at himself – ‘uncomplicated time together.’ He furrowed his brow. ‘How did this happen?’
Jojo eyed him. ‘The man agent went to bed with the lady agent and stuck his –’
‘No, I mean, we’ve been careful, haven’t we?’
‘Accidents happen.’
He acknowledged that. Yes, I suppose they do. But this is not a good time, financially. I’ll have to take care of Cassie and the kids. But you and I will have to get a place. We can’t stay in your apartment for ever, especially with a baby. Then if you stop working, we lose your income.’
‘But why would I stop working? I’m pregnant – if I even am – not ill. You’re afraid I’m going to turn into Louisa.’