Page 138 of The Honeymoon Affair

I can see now why she and Ariel didn’t get along.

I wonder will I fare any better.

Ariel

Penny Blackwater, my Northern Irish author, has been shortlisted for another literary prize, and we celebrate by meeting up in Belfast and having lunch in the Titanic Quarter. She tells me she’s thinking of writing about a fictional descendant of one of the world’s most famous shipping disasters, and we chat about how that might work. By the time I’m getting the Enterprise train back to Dublin later that evening, I’m quite excited about the idea. I’m also excited that Avery Marshall has sent me what he’s calling ‘a very, very rough first draft’ of his next comedy, and that Shelley has called to say that the new contract has come through for Cosmo Penhaligon. Given that I negotiated a steep increase in his advance, I’m very happy about that, and happy that my fifteen per cent will soon be nestling in the agency’s account, which will look good on the monthly figures.

The train is crossing the Malahide estuary when my phone buzzes with a call from Josh.

‘I was just thinking about you,’ I say, and let him know about the Cosmo deal.

‘Excellent.’ And yet I can hear from his voice that that’s not the most important thing for him. I wonder if he and Paula have got back together. There’s a lightness to his tone that hasn’t been there in weeks. ‘There’s something I wanted to put to you,’ he says. ‘Would you like to drop by the office tomorrow?’

‘I have online meetings scheduled throughout the day,’ I say. ‘Why can’t you tell me now?’

‘Not over the phone,’ he says.

‘Curiouser and curiouser. Can you come to my office instead? Say two thirty?’

‘I’ll be there. Don’t worry,’ he adds, clearly picking up on the hint of anxiety in my tone. ‘It’s a positive thing.’

It must be that Paula’s coming back, I decide when he ends the call. But then I remember that he said he wanted to ‘put something’ to me, and that would hardly be anything to do with Paula. I’m intrigued, but I decide to let it go until tomorrow.

I’m having a coffee break when he turns up, looking very smart in a navy suit and crisp white shirt.

‘I’ve another meeting after yours,’ he replies when I remark on how snappily dressed he is. ‘I’ve found a shirt-laundering app and the service is great. Paula always hated ironing.’

‘Not that there was anything stopping you from ironing your own shirts,’ I point out, and he gives me a chastened look.

‘D’you think that’s what went wrong?’ he asks.

‘Did you share things at home?’ I ask in reply. ‘Did you do more than put out the bins?’

‘Of course!’ He looks affronted.

‘It wasn’t the lack of ironing skills so.’ I smile at him. ‘Trade secret, I use a laundry service too.’

We go upstairs to my library area and I make us both Americanos. Then I look expectantly at him.

‘I’ve had an approach on your behalf,’ he begins, and my heart sinks. These approaches are usually by friends, or friends of friends, who want me to critique a manuscript. Well, they say critique, but on the rare occasions I do, they nearly always get upset when I suggest changes.

But the approach Josh is talking about isn’t a novel by a friend. It’s a business proposal. A bigger agency is looking to buy me out and has made an extraordinarily high opening offer.

‘You have a great list of authors,’ Josh points out when I say this. ‘Why shouldn’t they pony up for them?’

‘They absolutely should,’ I agree. ‘But this is an offer way above any I’ve ever had before.’

There have been a few over the years but none that have piqued my interest enough to sell. And of course, I haven’t wanted to let myself be brought into the fold of somewhere bigger where my business relationship with Charles might have changed. That’s not an issue now, though. As for the money, it’s a massive step up.

‘And me?’ I ask. ‘Do they want me to stay on?’

‘Of course.’ He looks shocked. ‘That’s why they’re making such a great offer. They want you and your authors and your potential authors too.’

The agency is an international one that manages some very well-known actors and celebrities both in the UK and Ireland and globally. They have an office in Dublin where they mainly look after TV celebrities, and now want to increase their presence in the literary market. From what Josh is telling me, they have a lot of money to splash around. It’s all very exciting, except for the fact that the ABA agency wouldn’t be mine any more.

‘No,’ concedes Josh. ‘But the proposal would have you as a management consultant with them. If you didn’t want to do that, you could move somewhere else. There’s a non-compete clause, of course, so you wouldn’t be able to do it immediately, but you’d have the option eventually.’

The offer is very tempting. I need to think seriously about it.