A Year of Taking Chances Page 6

  ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me what you’d done? Or at the very least organise a new set to be printed out?’

  Tina, knowing that screaming at Leah for being an idiot wasn’t an option, glared at her before pulling the coffee-stained papers out of the basket. Illegible. Strangely, though, nothing else in the bin appeared to have any coffee stains on it.

  Leah had simply looked at her and shrugged again before turning away. Not even attempting to mumble a ‘sorry’ in her direction.

  Tina was convinced Leah had spilt the coffee deliberately. A blatant attempt to try and sabotage her discussion seminar. Well, it hadn’t worked if that had been her plan. Tina smiled as she remembered how well the seminar had gone. All the congratulations heaped on her, with people asking if she could handle their foreign rights for them. Of course, she’d told them to write in to the agency in the usual way if they wanted to become clients.

  Tina sighed as she sank down on to the settee and kicked her shoes off. A work-free evening and weekend beckoned. The flat door opened and Maisie appeared. A different, happier Maisie to the one she’d met only a week or so ago. Because of the hours they’d both been working, Tina hadn’t yet had an opportunity to ask Maisie how things were working out.

  ‘You look shattered,’ Maisie said, joining Tina on the settee.

  Tina nodded. ‘Totally. You? How are the jobs going?’

  ‘Love the coffee shop – Guy’s a great boss. The boutique is OK.’

  Tina raised her eyebrows. ‘Just OK?’

  ‘Oh, it’s fine really. One of the girls is a bit difficult to get along with but, hey, there’s always one, isn’t there?’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ Tina said. ‘I think we both deserve a treat tonight. Fancy a takeaway pizza and some Prosecco?’

  An hour later, sitting on the sofa letting the latest episode of some reality show wash over her, Tina remembered how, earlier in the year, she’d been determined to change her life, get out of the rut she was in. Yet months later nothing had changed. Her life was still following the same old pattern. ‘Start your own agency,’ a little voice niggled in her head. ‘Do things your way.’

  She sighed. Was she experienced enough? Eight years in the publishing industry had to count for something. Surely, once it was known she was setting up on her own, authors would approach her and she’d soon build a client list. Maybe a couple of her current authors would follow her, although she knew Kirsty would do her best to stop that happening.

  Was she brave enough to go it alone though? It would mean doing literally everything herself in the beginning without the support or backup of colleagues. Her confidence had taken a bit of a bashing in the last few months, thanks in the main to Leah, and the thought of taking sole responsibility was terrifying. Maisie’s remark about there always being one difficult person to work with had touched a nerve. If she ran her own agency she’d make sure everyone worked well together – there wouldn’t be any people like Leah in her team, upsetting things.

  Her laptop on the small table in front of her was open on the time-slip manuscript. Being so busy at the Fair, she’d only managed to read half of it so far, but what she had read, she’d loved. She longed to work with Lucinda Penwood, editing and making her debut novel the best it could possibly be. If she left the agency she would be morally bound to leave behind the best story she’d received in ages. There was no way she could poach Lucinda from Kirsty. Leaving her other authors behind would be a wrench too. Tina sighed and Maisie glanced across at her.

  ‘Problems?’

  ‘Just working some things out in my head,’ Tina said, thinking that maybe talking about it with Maisie would help her clarify things in her own mind. ‘Basically, I’m wondering if I’m brave enough to leave the agency and start my own.’

  ‘It’s a big step,’ Maisie said. ‘But you must have lots of contacts in the business.’

  Tina nodded. ‘I do. But cashflow would be a problem until I had a decent client list. I’ve got some savings but not enough to last me more than, oh, six months, I suppose, and it would take longer than that to get established.’

  ‘Can’t help you there,’ Maisie said. ‘Although I can start paying you rent soon if that helps?’

  ‘We’ll stick to our original arrangement and work out something you can afford at the end of the month, if you decide to stay,’ Tina said. ‘No, what I really need is a business loan and I can’t see the bank giving me that.’ But Jodie would, a little voice in her head said.

  Could she ask Jodie, though? What was that old saying about never mixing friends and business?

  ‘Jodie as in your old flatmate?’

  Startled, Tina looked at Maisie, before realising she must have spoken her last thought out loud. She nodded. ‘My best friend as well as flatmate. She’s offered me a loan once or twice before to start my own agency but I’ve never taken her up on it. Only last week she offered again and I turned her down.’

  ‘Well, there’s your answer then,’ Maisie said. ‘Go for it. Ring her and arrange it. Then you can give Kirsty notice first thing Monday morning.’

  Tina laughed. ‘I love your optimism. I’ll think about it a bit more and maybe ring Jodie later and talk to her. See what she thinks.’

  When there was no reply from Jodie’s mobile that evening she wasn’t sure whether to be disappointed or to take it as a sign not to do anything impetuous.

  Over the weekend, in between trying to speak to Jodie, she mapped out a business plan, sketched out a trade announcement, started to design a website and doodled on pages and pages of her notebook, trying to come up with a catchy name for the agency before settling on the simple, obvious one. Tina Matthews Literary Agency All this before she’d taken a definite decision to go it alone – and before she’d asked Jodie about a loan. But she was certain Jodie, having offered it more than once, would lend her the money without question. And the more she sketched out an agency plan, the more convinced she became that it would work.

  Which was why, among all the scheming and planning, she’d also written her letter of resignation from Kirsty’s agency. At first she’d kidded herself, pretending she was just writing a draft – practising the phrasing for when she wrote the real thing. But as she rewrote the letter for the umpteenth time, deleting certain words, adding others, she realised she truly didn’t want to continue working with Kirsty and Leah. She wanted out, come what may. After reading her latest draft Tina decided it was word perfect, switched on the printer and pressed print. First thing Monday morning she’d hand it to Kirsty and begin working the month’s notice she’d given her.

  If Jodie couldn’t lend her the money to help kick-start her business, she’d be in trouble, but at least she’d have a month to find a stopgap job. Whatever happened, in a month’s time she’d be free of Kirsty and Leah. And starting to climb out of her rut.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Jodie smiled happily as she placed the tray of almond cantuccini biscuits, fresh from the oven, alongside the madeleine cakes already cooling on the rack. Annette had rung earlier and asked if she could come over for coffee – if she wasn’t too busy?

  ‘I’m having a morning in the kitchen,’ Jodie had said. ‘I thought I’d have a go at making some madeleines – Ben seems rather fond of them.’

  She hadn’t added that baking had currently become her favourite occupation as a means of passing the time. ‘You can test them for me.’

  ‘See you about eleven then,’ Annette said.

  While the biscuits were cooling Jodie tidied the kitchen – a tidy cook she was not – and set the dishwasher. Annette was her mother-in-law, after all. She’d hate her to see the kitchen in its current state.

  When Annette arrived twenty minutes later, Jodie took her straight through to the small veranda where she’d set up the coffee.

  ‘Ben is working, I’m afraid,’ she said, handing Annette a cup. ‘So he won’t be joining us.’

  ‘I’ve come to see you rather than Ben,’ Annette said
. ‘I’m worried about you.’

  Jodie looked at her, surprised. ‘Why?’

  ‘I know what my son is like when he is working on a book. Everything else – and everyone – gets shut out.’

  ‘The edits will soon be finished,’ Jodie said. ‘And Ben has promised to take a break before he starts his next book.’

  She held out a plate of madeleines. Had Annette guessed how difficult she was finding it adapting to this new life of hers, without a definite role in it for herself?

  ‘Good,’ Annette said. ‘I would hate to think you were unhappy and he was neglecting you. Days can go very slowly when you have nothing much to do.’

  ‘I’m having a French lesson every week with Madame Colbert and…’ Jodie hesitated. ‘I haven’t mentioned it to Ben yet but I’m thinking of trying to do some freelance PR work over the internet. I know I have to do something for me. But first I’m looking forward to spending more time with Ben in the next couple of weeks.’

  ‘You have to find your own interests here and have a life independent of Ben,’ Annette said. ‘For when he is away in his other world.’ Annette gave Jodie a searching look. ‘Do not make the same mistake I made in my marriage.’ She shrugged when Jodie looked at her questioningly.

  ‘Different times but the little-woman syndrome in marriage still exists here and is difficult to break. Although I hope I brought Ben up believing in equality,’ Annette said.

  ‘You sound like Tina – she’s afraid I’m going to turn into a Stepford wife,’ Jodie said, laughing. ‘Which I have no intention of doing.’

  Annette took a bite of madeleine and ate it thoughtfully.

  ‘These are good, well done. It is a shame you did not go to London in the end.’

  ‘I left it too late,’ Jodie said, shrugging. ‘Besides, my flatmate has rented my old room.’

  ‘Next time, you do not dither. Now, there was another reason I came.’ Annette hesitated before saying, ‘I want to talk to you about my friend Thierry – you like him?’

  ‘Yes. He seems nice,’ Jodie said, wondering where the conversation was headed now.

  Annette beamed. ‘He is, but I know Ben is not happy about our friendship. I need you to put in a good word for him whenever you can. I am too old for conflict in my life. My son and my friends have to get on. And Thierry and I have been friends forever. Which, of course, is a big part of the problem,’ she added under her breath.

  Jodie looked at Annette. It sounded as though Thierry was more than a friend. ‘I’d noticed Ben is very abrasive whenever he sees Thierry or even when his name is mentioned.’

  ‘I have to tell you there is a reason Ben doesn’t like Thierry,’ Annette said quietly, looking at Jodie and taking a deep breath. ‘It’s because he knows I was his “cinq à sept” secret for a long time, when I was married to André.’

  Jodie looked at her, puzzled. ‘What on earth is that? I’ve never heard the expression before.’

  ‘It’s the traditional time lovers in France meet secretly – between five and seven o’clock in the evening, hence “cinq à sept”.’ Annette looked at Jodie silently, waiting for her reaction.

  Jodie stared at her in astonishment, reeling from the revelation Annette had just made and not knowing how to respond. No wonder Ben was somewhat anti-Thierry.

  ‘Is it a bit like the modern-day “friends with benefits” that became fashionable after the film?’ she said finally.

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ Annette said, shrugging. ‘It’s a French thing. It doesn’t happen so much now – at least I don’t think it does. People are so busy, but maybe it’s even more secret. Romantic trysts are a bit frowned upon these days. Since a certain president got caught out.’ Looking at Jodie’s shocked face, she added, ‘It does sound far seedier than it was in reality. At the time, thirty years ago, it was accepted. You could be in a loving relationship with your partner and be “emotionally fidèle” but still enjoy sex without any commitment in a cinq à sept relationship.’ Annette shook her head sadly. ‘The problem comes when you’re not in a loving relationship with your partner and love enters the equation of those two hours.’

  ‘But if it happened all those years ago, how does Ben know about it? He must have been very young at the time?’ Jodie struggled to get her head round Annette having secret liaisons with Thierry while she was still married to Ben’s father.

  ‘André found out about Thierry and me and one day, some years ago, when he was being particularly spiteful, he told Ben,’ Annette said. ‘Of course, he didn’t bother to mention that he himself had had several of these arrangements during our marriage. Or that Thierry comforting me, when he found me in floods of tears after I discovered for about the sixth time that André was unfaithful, was how it all began between us.’

  ‘Ben did say they had a major falling out. Was that what it was about?’

  Annette nodded. ‘Yes. To this day I’ve never told Ben that André had several cinq à sept trysts during our marriage. I have no intention of doing so either. And I’d like you to promise me you won’t tell him.’

  ‘Not my secret to tell,’ Jodie said. ‘But it might change his view of Thierry if he knew the truth.’

  ‘Maybe one day I’ll tell him. He’s accused Thierry to his face of being after all he can get. He’s not, but will Ben listen?’ Annette gave a deep sigh. ‘Sometimes his imagination… it goes into overdrive in real life. I’m rather hoping you’ll put in a good word for Thierry and me.’

  ‘I’m not sure he’ll listen to me either, but I’ll certainly try,’ Jodie said.

  ‘Thank you. Now, let us forget our men and talk about something else.’

  Half an hour later, as Annette stood up to leave, having refused an offer to stay for lunch, Ben came onto the veranda.

  ‘Mama. I thought I heard your voice. How are you?’ he asked, kissing his mother on both cheeks.

  ‘Ça va. I’ve been keeping your wife, whom you’ve been neglecting for the last few weeks, company.’

  ‘Unavoidable,’ Ben said, turning to Jodie and smiling. ‘But it is finished. The final manuscript has been sent on its way to my editor. I’ve awarded myself a fortnight off before I start the next book. So have you organised lunch?’

  Jodie shook her head. ‘No. I was…’

  ‘In that case we’ll walk down and eat in the village,’ Ben interrupted. ‘Celebrate writing The End. Mama, you will join us?’

  Annette shook her head. ‘You two go alone. I have things to do before I see Thierry this evening.’ A defiant look in Ben’s direction and then, with a flurry of cheek kisses, she was gone.

  To Jodie’s surprise, when they reached the village, Ben strolled past the small restaurant on the square where they normally ate and made for the large hotel tucked away down a side street.

  ‘I thought we’d celebrate in style,’ he said, ushering her up the small flight of curved steps into the hotel’s foyer.

  The restaurant was busy but not overly crowded and Jodie and Ben were shown to a table in the orangery overlooking the rear garden with its palm trees and lake. Ducks waddled about near the shoreline, before upending themselves in the water with only their wagging tail feathers visible as they busily searched for food. Further out, two swans were gliding gracefully around, ignoring the shoreline commotion.

  Jodie sighed happily, looking at the view. Once they’d ordered their meal and the celebratory champagne Ben insisted on had been opened and two glasses poured, she raised her glass in a toast.

  ‘Here’s to your book. I’m so looking forward to reading it.’ Smiling at each other, they clinked glasses.

  ‘I’m looking forward to two weeks of freedom,’ Ben said. ‘To spending the time with you. We must make a list of the things we want to do together before I start again.’

  ‘A fortnight won’t be long enough for everything,’ Jodie teased. ‘But it’s a start.’ She glanced at Ben. ‘Nicola has suggested that an hour’s French conversation with you every day would really help
to improve my French. I haven’t liked to suggest it before, but maybe over breakfast?’

  ‘Good idea,’ Ben said. ‘We’ll start tomorrow morning. We need to think about finding a house too.’

  ‘Is Grumpy Villager the only estate agent here?’ Jodie said.

  ‘There’s another branch of the same firm in the next town,’ Ben said. ‘But Herve isn’t that bad once he gets to know you. I went to school with him so I’m used to him.’

  ‘Well, I’ll let you deal with him then,’ Jodie said. ‘I’m not sure I’d manage to speak to him without being really rude. Ben?’ She hesitated but at that moment the waiter arrived with their meal – a large dish of a mouthwatering daube to share between them, some early asparagus and creamed potatoes – and the moment was lost.

  Several minutes passed while they both tucked into the delicious food before Jodie looked across at Ben.

  ‘There is something I need to tell you. I’m thinking about finding some work to do while you’re busy writing. I miss the buzz of having lots to do. I’ve still got contacts in PR so I thought I’d see if I could find some freelance work via the internet.’

  Ben looked at her. ‘You couldn’t wait to get off the treadmill when we got married. You were stressed out. I wouldn’t want you to get like that again.’

  Jodie shook her head. ‘Don’t worry – neither do I. I’ll pick and choose my clients. Three or four at the most. I just need something to do while you’re busy writing.’

  Ben reached out for her hand across the table. ‘Leave it for the next week or so. Let’s enjoy our time together. I was planning to take you down to the Riviera for a few days. I’ll show you around the local sights up here too, introduce you to a few more people. We’ll do some serious house-hunting as well. Who knows, you might get so involved and busy you won’t have time to think about extra work.’

  ‘OK.’ Jodie smiled at him. She’d put her freelance ideas on hold while they spent some precious time together. Kickstarting her working life might have to wait another couple of weeks, but whatever Ben said, it was something she was determined to do, for her own sake.