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A Year of Taking Chances Page 8


  ‘Umm, like, as of now. I was hoping to do things slowly. I haven’t even got an office set up yet, but when I gave Kirsty a month’s notice she threw me out with immediate effect.’

  ‘Why on earth did she do that?’ Jodie said.

  Tina sighed. ‘It’s a long story – I’ll tell you later but first I have to ask you something. That loan you’ve offered me several times – may I take you up on it? Provided, of course, Ben doesn’t mind. Not a large amount, just enough to help kickstart things and get me through the first year. I’ve got a bit saved but need a top-up for cashflow and in case of emergencies.’

  ‘Oh, Ben won’t mind. He’s already told me it’s my money,’ Jodie said, remembering the earlier conversation about mortgages. ‘Of course I’ll lend you some money to help start up the agency but…’ Jodie hesitated. ‘There is one condition.’

  Tina felt her heart sink. Why had she rushed to give Kirsty her notice? She should have started organising things quietly, secretly, while she still had a job. But Jodie had never mentioned a condition before when she’d made the offer. So why now?

  Tina could barely get the words out. ‘And the condition is?’

  Jodie heard Tina’s involuntary intake of breath when she heard there would be an unexpected condition attached to the loan. She bit her lip in apprehension.

  The idea had only come to her as she listened to Tina talking so she hadn’t had time to think it through. Weigh up the pros and cons. What if Tina didn’t agree? What if it spoilt their friendship? Maybe she should backtrack a little.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s not a condition set in stone – you can always say no and I’ll lend you the money anyway. It’s just…’ Jodie paused. ‘Could I be involved with the agency? Rather than simply loan you money could I be your business partner? Organise the PR and publicity among other things?’

  ‘Are you serious?’ Tina said.

  ‘Very. When Ben’s working all hours on his book I need something to do other than just housework and walking Tess. So I’ve started looking for part-time freelance work on the internet but I haven’t managed to find anything yet. Helping you with the agency would be perfect.’

  ‘It would be brilliant from my point of view too,’ Tina said.

  Jodie let out a huge sigh of relief. ‘We’ll have to draw up a proper legal agreement as well as a business plan.’

  ‘Oh, we don’t need to do that,’ Tina said. ‘We’re best friends.’

  ‘All the more reason to do it legally. We have to be professional about it. Too many businesses fail because friends think they don’t need to get things in writing.’

  ‘OK. I’ll draw up the business plan for the agency, you work out a basic legal contract and we’re in business. Just have to start signing up some clients,’ Tina said. ‘Hopefully Kirsty won’t have bad-mouthed me to all and sundry.’

  ‘Talking of Kirsty, what happened there?’ Jodie said.

  Tina sighed. ‘Well, you know things have been strained in the office for months now. I should have realised I was being slowly edged out. I should also have realised Leah was manipulating things behind my back. So when I blithely gave Kirsty my notice, I played right into her hands.’ Tina was silent for a few seconds before continuing.

  ‘Apparently, between me handing my notice in to Kirsty and her storming out to tell me to leave straight away, Leah went into her office and told her I intended to poach several authors, including the one I’d hoped to sign this week. As much as I would love my clients to follow me, I would never ever do anything as unprofessional as that. But Kirsty believed Leah and saw red. Hence the “get out now” ultimatum and the ripple effect it’s having through the agency.’

  ‘What d’you mean?’ Jodie asked.

  ‘Remember how Margaret was upset at Leah organising things at the London Book Fair instead of her? She rang me yesterday, very upset that I’ve left. Says she’s going to hand in her notice too as soon as she finds something else. Doesn’t want to risk getting the same reaction I got from Kirsty.’

  ‘Sensible lady,’ Jodie said. ‘So who is going to handle your client list now?’

  ‘According to Margaret, Kirsty is taking the majority and handing the rest over to Leah,’ Tina said, sighing. ‘I just wish I didn’t feel so guilty. Kirsty, I know, will do her usual professional job at looking after my ex-clients, but Leah? Who knows? I feel I’ve let them down.’

  ‘Nonsense. Kirsty is at fault here, not you.’

  ‘I know you’re right but…’ Tina sighed.

  ‘Anyway, once I get some press releases about the agency winging their way out to the book trade you’re bound to get lots of enquiries,’ Jodie said. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if some of your clients want to sign with you when their contracts with Kirsty finish. Right, I’ve got to go. Friends coming to supper tonight. Talk to you tomorrow.’

  Back in her London flat, Tina switched off her phone and settled down on the settee with her laptop, a happy smile on her face. Tina Matthews Literary Agency was one step nearer to being operational.

  Opening the laptop, Tina came to a decision. Kirsty would be informing clients that she, Tina, was no longer at the agency, but there was a possibility that Lucinda Penwood, the author of the time-slip novel, hadn’t yet signed for representation and wouldn’t receive a letter. Tina took a deep breath.

  She’d take a chance and write to Lucinda Penwood herself and explain the situation. No way would she offer representation. She’d word the email carefully, explaining she was no longer with Kirsty, wouldn’t even mention the fact she was starting her own agency. It was just a way of wishing her luck and telling her the book was good – good enough, in Tina’s opinion, to be a runaway bestseller.

  Leaving the agency and missing out on the chance of representing Lucinda Penwood was currently her only real regret.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Guy’s Italian Coffee Bar, where Maisie worked part-time, was always busy. Situated at the entrance to the local shopping mall, it was popular with the young mums who came in after the school run for their lattes and a gossip before rushing off to their various gyms, hairdressers and pilates classes. They were followed by the shoppers, intent on filling up with caffeine before indulging in a mammoth retail-therapy session, and then, at lunchtime, the office workers swarmed in. Maisie loved it all – until the day John appeared and saw her.

  Busy preparing four coffees while she waited for the cheese paninis ordered to accompany them, she had her back to the café when she heard his voice and froze, not believing her ears. Surely it couldn’t be? She risked a quick look and saw him sitting at a table with two other men she recognised as regular customers. They worked in a nearby office and came in for lunch at least three times a week. What was John doing with them?

  Thankfully they were sitting at a table the other waitress served and not one of hers. But of course it was too much to hope that John wouldn’t see her as she made her way through the café with the ordered coffees and lunches. Carefully watching where she was going and avoiding looking in his direction she still couldn’t help but hear his shocked, ‘Maisie!’

  As she turned to return to the kitchen, John had left his table and was standing in front of her. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Um, working?’ Maisie said.

  ‘Yes, I can see that, but… I thought… you’d go home after…’ He stammered broken sentences at her.

  ‘After you dumped me, you mean?’

  John had the grace to look ashamed. ‘I’m sorry about that. Where are you living? How are you coping?’

  Maisie glared at him. ‘What do you care?’

  She saw Guy jerk his head at her, indicating a customer who was waiting to be served. ‘Sorry, I’ve got work to do.’ And she turned and made her way over to the customer. For the next half hour the café was busy and Maisie studiously avoided looking in John’s direction although she could sense him watching her moving around serving customers. She was relieved when he and his companions
stood up to leave without him attempting to speak to her again. Her relief was short-lived, though, when Guy told her that, while paying his bill, John had asked what time she finished.

  ‘Said he was an old friend of yours – I hope he was telling the truth?’ Guy said, looking at her. ‘You do know him?’

  ‘Oh yes, I know him,’ Maisie said wearily, realising John would now be waiting for her when she finished work.

  As she left the café later there was no sign of him and she breathed a sigh of relief which quickly turned to one of annoyance as John fell into step beside her. He’d clearly been waiting out of sight for her to appear.

  ‘It’s good to see you,’ he said. When she didn’t respond he said, ‘So, how are you enjoying life down here?’ He was acting for all the world as though the two of them were still good friends.

  ‘It’s great,’ Maisie said. ‘You? What are you doing over this side of town?’

  ‘New job. The guys I was with at lunchtime? They’re my new office buddies. See the building over there? Tenth floor, window on the corner, my new office as of tomorrow.’

  Maisie’s heart sank. She could do without him working in the same area and coming into the café on a regular basis. ‘What happened to the other job? The one that was going to earn lots of money for your future?’

  John shook his head. ‘Didn’t work out but this one feels good.’ He glanced at her. ‘I’m really sorry for the way I treated you, but at the time it seemed the right thing to do.’

  Maisie stopped dead. ‘The right thing? For whom? You maybe, but not me. Not only was it wrong, it was cruel.’ She glared at him. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever forgive you for dumping me like that. Still with her?’

  John shook his head. ‘No. That didn’t work out either. After a month she decided I was too boring for words and went off with a DJ. So you can see my life down here hasn’t been easy either,’ John protested. ‘Nothing worked out as I planned. Before I got this new job I was beginning to think I’d made a big mistake moving down here.’

  ‘Join the club,’ Maisie said, starting to walk away. ‘Bet you didn’t end up on the streets, though,’ she muttered under her breath.

  ‘No, I managed to find a bedsit to rent,’ John said. ‘Hey, what’s that about streets? You didn’t…?’ His voice trailed away as Maisie nodded. ‘I didn’t mean for that to happen. I can only say I’m sorry again.’

  ‘But it did happen. So a simple “sorry” from you doesn’t really do it for me.’

  ‘But you’re all right now, aren’t you? You’ve got somewhere to live and a job.’ He caught hold of Maisie’s arm and pulled her to a halt. ‘I’m really, truly sorry that I treated you so badly – at least let me try now and make it up to you. If you need some money, I’ve got a bit of cash left – not a lot but if you need some, it’s yours. You can repay me when you’re back on your feet.’

  Furious, Maisie pulled her arm away and started walking again. ‘I don’t need your money. And to be honest I don’t want you in my life either.’

  ‘Hell, Maisie, we go back a long way. Can’t we at least be friends again? Think of the aggro we’ll get from the parents – from everybody back home actually – if we’re not.’

  Maisie glanced at him. Was that all he was worried about? Their families learning the truth about how they’d fallen out? About how badly he’d treated her. Maisie knew her mum and dad had been furious with him when Maisie had finally told them the truth about her early life in London. Presumably John’s own family would be cross with him too.

  They walked in silence for a minute or two before Maisie broke the silence. ‘You planning on lunching at Guy’s very often?’

  ‘Seems to be the place everyone likes.’ John shrugged. ‘Shouldn’t be a problem if we’re friends, should it?’

  Maisie sighed. ‘I suppose not.’

  ‘Good. In that case – I’ll see you tomorrow, we’ll talk more then. Bye for now. I need to catch that bus.’

  Before Maisie could say it was her day off tomorrow, John had gone. Oh well, at least she could put him out of her mind again for thirty-six hours.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ‘So, is this definitely the house for us?’ Ben said, taking hold of Jodie’s hand. ‘Shall we put in an offer?’

  The two of them were standing in the sitting room of the house they’d both loved when they’d viewed it earlier in the week. As the house was empty, Herve had given them the keys to take their time looking around on their own and they’d explored everywhere. Even the old stone hut at the bottom of the garden had been inspected thoroughly.

  ‘Can you see us living here?’ Jodie said. ‘I can. I love it. The views of the mountains from this room are wonderful. And…’ She hesitated, not sure whether Ben would laugh at her. ‘The house has a nice feeling about it. A welcoming, happy feeling.’

  Ben didn’t laugh. ‘I feel that too. When we take the keys back we’ll tell Herve our offer and hope it’s accepted.’

  Half an hour later they handed the keys back to Herve and Ben told him their offer.

  ‘D’accord. I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘How soon do you think we’ll hear?’ Jodie said as they made their way home.

  Ben shrugged. ‘A day or two maybe.’

  Back home, Ben disappeared into his study with a coffee while Jodie took hers out onto the veranda and began to compile a to-do list:

  write a couple of press releases; notify publishers; update computer address files; contact a couple of journalist friends; get the business loan organised; get dates for conferences where Tina could meet potential clients; find Filofax

  Over the years Jodie had adapted to working and keeping essential information on a computer, but as a backup she also kept a diary, addresses and contact phone numbers in her treasured Filofax.

  Jacqueline had given her the leather-bound organiser for her twenty-first birthday and she’d used it every day of her working life since. No way could she even contemplate working on agency business without it.

  Packing up her things before marrying Ben and moving to France, Jodie had hesitated before putting the Filofax in a box which contained some of her mum’s unsorted photos and other things. If she wasn’t working, she didn’t need to carry it around. All these months later the box remained unpacked with other boxes at the bottom of the old armoire in the spare bedroom.

  Finishing her coffee, Jodie went up to the bedroom and pulled out the first box. Full of paperbacks and nothing else she pushed it back into place. No point in unpacking it now – with luck, she and Ben would be moving in a couple of months. She’d unpack the paperbacks then and put them straight on the shelves in the sitting room of their new home.

  Opening the next box, Jodie found the personal paperwork she’d unearthed when clearing out her mum’s flat after she died. An envelope full of papers – birth certificates, the faded marriage certificates of her grandparents, lots of old official documents. Sealed envelopes she’d never opened and whose contents remained a mystery. Other envelopes were full of things she hadn’t been able to bear the thought of throwing out – letters from grandparents, childish birthday cards, old school reports. The flotsam and jetsam of an older generation – little family mementoes she might one day pass on to her own children. At the time she’d packed everything up, she’d promised herself she’d go through it all and sort it when she was feeling stronger and wasn’t liable to burst into tears every five minutes, remembering her mum. Another box to sort when they were in the new house.

  Rummaging through things in the hope that her Filofax would prove to be in this particular box, she smiled as a photo fell out of an unsealed envelope. A photo she didn’t remember seeing before of herself as a three-or four-year-old, wearing her favourite winter coat with its velvet collar and sleeve cuffs. The coat formed part of her earliest memories; she’d loved it and insisted on wearing it until it was threadbare and too small for her. The day Jacqueline had thrown it in the rubbish, she’d screamed and cried. />
  Jodie could see she’d already outgrown it on the day of this photo but had probably created such a fuss when told she couldn’t wear it that Jacqueline had given in for a quiet life.

  It took Jodie only a few seconds to recognise where the photo had been taken. It was the station from where, years later, between the ages of eleven and seventeen, she’d caught the 8.15 to school. The old-fashioned station clock and the chocolate-vending machine had still been in situ and were instantly recognisable. Alongside the No.1 platform she was standing on – well back from the edge, she noted – there was a train pulling out and a man leaning out of a carriage window, waving. He looked like… It was. It was the man in the pendant photo. Her father.

  Something shifted in her head. This had to be the last time she’d seen him before he died. Brief, forgotten snapshots of the final meeting filtered into her mind.

  ‘Daddy is going away on an important job,’ Jacqueline had told her. ‘He’ll be away a long time so we’re going to see him off.’

  ‘Can we go to the park afterwards?’ Jodie had said.

  ‘We’ll see. Come on. Get in the car, otherwise we’ll miss saying goodbye.’

  Jodie remembered finding it odd that her mum was driving. Dad was the one who always drove. When they got to the station she’d seen him standing there, a suitcase at his feet, and went running towards him. He’d bent down with his arms outstretched and she’d run straight into them for her usual hug and swing. She remembered struggling to be released afterwards, he was holding her so tight.

  ‘You be a good girl for your mummy now and I’ll see you soon,’ he said, giving her another, gentler hug before letting her go and boarding the train. She’d stood there holding Jacqueline’s hand and waving goodbye until the train disappeared around a bend in the track.

  Weeks later, with tears streaming down her face, Jacqueline had gently told her that there had been an accident and that Daddy had gone to heaven.

  Jodie sighed. So many memories were going to be stirred up by these boxes – some sad, some happy. It would all have to keep until she and Ben had moved. Once they were in their new home she’d definitely do a final sorting of these few family heirlooms. Right now, she just needed her Filofax. She pushed the box to one side and opened another one and found it sitting on top of a jumble of papers and more photos.