The Other Side of the Story (40 page)

The groovy hairdresser in Soho volumized my hair beautifully, Anton did a wonderful job on my nails and my new clothes and boots were perfect.

I only discovered at the last minute that the reason I was on
Elevenses
was because they were doing a feature on mugging. They had zero interest in me or my books, they just wanted to know how bad my mugging had been.

Were you hospitalized?' one of the 'sympathetic interviewers asked in an exaggerated 'caring' tone.

'No.'

'No? Oh dear.' She was so disappointed that I told her how I had feared I might miscarry, and that cheered her up.

Afterwards I had phone messages from Viv, Baz and Jez saying how proud they were of me, and from Debs saying, 'I know you're short of money, but surely you didn't have to wear rags.' A reference to my fabulous new top. 'Hahaha,' she tinkled.

28

September saw both advances and reverses in our fortunes.

Anton and Mikey had spent much of the summer pulling together a big, glitzy deal — a hot edgy script, finance from three dependable sources and commitments from young, hot actress Chloe Drew and up-and-coming director Sureta Pavel. This was the deal that would make EyeKon; it was all gelling satisfactorily and contracts were ready to be signed when the script attracted sudden Hollywood interest. Before you could say 'knife' the script was withdrawn and the whole deal collapsed like a house of cards. It plunged Anton into a black depression.

Witnessing his despair was truly frightening because his default state was irrepressible optimism. But too many deals had gone wrong for him to bounce back this time. He talked about what a failure he was, how he had let me and Ema down, and he began making noises about seeking out an alternative career. 'Bartending, perhaps,' he said, prone in bed. 'Or beekeeping.'

On the plus side, something about his dark, brooding despair affected the builders. Without us even having to chivvy them, they quietly installed three out of four of the new lintels and even began to replaster the main bedroom.

For a whole week Anton stayed away from work. 'I've no stomach for it,' he said. 'It's so hard to get good material, this was our big chance. I feel it'll never come right for us.'

He spent a lot of time with Ema. He had somehow managed to shake Zulema for the week. I suspected — but did not ask — that he had had to pay her to stay away.

Anton stood at the door of my study and watched me typing. Several emotions fought on his face. 'You work so hard,' he said, then called, 'Ema, where are you?'

Ema marched in, wearing a red and blue horizontal-striped all-in-one vest and shorts. Anton watched her tenderly.

'You look like a Hungarian weightlifter,' he said, then after further scrutiny, '
circa
1953.'

I knew then he was getting better.

However, he never fully returned to his old self. He made countless references to how hard I worked, to the fact that any money coming in was generated by me and that if it wasn't for me, we would have nothing.

It frightened me because even though at that precise time, all of our income was being produced by me, I had not considered that situation to be a permanent one. In fact, I was poised constantly for Anton, with all his ideas and energy, to suddenly start generating enough money to keep us safe. I did not enjoy the feeling that everything — from our home to our food - depended on me.

On the last day of September, my first royalty cheque for
Mimi's Remedies
arrived. It was for such a ridiculously large sum - one hundred and fifty thousand pounds — that it seemed like a joke cheque. I wept with pride. From the dusty shelf I took down a
Mimi's Remedies
, gazed at all the little words and marvelled at how they had resulted in this money, which was guaranteeing our home… The whole thing was a miracle, from the book's unhappy genesis to unlikely success.

Anton took a photo of me holding the cheque, like a pools' winner — then I kissed it goodbye because almost all of it was committed elsewhere. To the bank, the builders, the credit card people…

'Only you and I could get a cheque for a hundred and fifty grand and two days later be left with almost nothing!' I said to Anton.

'But we've spent it on good stuff,' he said. 'Look at us — responsible adults. We've paid the first instalment on the house to the bank, now they won't repossess.'

I winced. I was the wrong person to appreciate repossession jokes.

'Sorry.' He noticed. 'Youthful high spirits.'

'And our next instalment is due —'

'On the thirtieth of November, when you've signed your new contract with Dalkin Emery.' He paused and I felt one of his declines coming on. Not today. Not when we had reason to be cheerful! 'I hate that all the burden is on you,' he said, miserably.

'Don't,' I begged. 'At least don't hate it today. Take a day off.'

'I'm depressed!'

Miranda England was on the phone.

'Hormones,' I said. 'It happens when you're pregnant.'

'It's not hormones. It's fucking Amazon. I just went online — I don't know why I do this to myself - and my latest book is only averaging three and a half stars. The previous one has five.

And the reviews from readers are so fucking mean!'

'Oh dear,' I said, ineffectually. 'They really can be horrible.'

'You've nothing to worry about,' she said gloomily. 'I looked up
Mimi's Remedies
. They love you. Nearly every review gives it five stars. They'd give it six if they could.'

I should not have done it.

After she hung up, I went to Amazon and looked up
Mimi's Remedies
and spent some happy minutes scrolling through page after page of glowing five-star praise for
Mimi's Remedies
.

But pride comes before a fall because then — and this is where I should have stopped — I wondered if anyone had written anything about
Crystal Clear
. Although it was not due out until the end of October, early copies had gone on sale in the airports.

I typed in 'Crystal Clear' and was excited to discover that there were reviews already! Only three, but a start.

Then I saw the header from the first review and felt a little sick. 'Piss Poor' it said. 'Piss Poor from a reader in Darlington.'

Of the star rating, she had given me one out of five. At least she had given me one, I thought, clutching at straws. Then I began to read.

The only reason I gave this book one star is because it's not possible to give none

Oh.

I
pissed myself laughing at
Mimi's Remedies,
but there is not one good laugh in this bag of shite, I bought it in the airport on the way to a week in the sun and I wish I'd saved my money and bought myself an extra Sex on the Beach instead

Oh dear. Oh God. With a thumping heart, I rushed onto the next one, hoping it would be nicer. It was a two-star score.

Back on the SSRIs from a reader in Norfolk

I had been depressed and not left the house for almost six months when I read
Mimi's Remedies
It cheered me up so much I was able to go back to Weight Watchers. Imagine my delight when I discovered that Lily Wright had a new book out, I asked my neighbour to bring me one from the airport when she was visiting her mum in Jersey I hoped I would feel well enough to start looking for a part-time job after reading it But have you read it. It's so depressing It has set me back terribly I have given two stars because even though I did not enjoy this book at all, I regard myself as a nice person

The next one was also a two-star.

Extremely disappointed from an avid reader in the northwest.

I
very much enjoyed
Mimi's Remedies
even though it is not what I would normally read. (I am a great fan of Joanne Harris, Sebastian Faulks and Louis de Bemieres.) I must admit I was looking forward to reading Lily Wright's new book, as I felt she showed a good deal of promise in
Mimi's Remedies,
When I saw it in the airport (en route to an art appreciation weekend in Florence), I bought it. However, my hopes were stillborn
. Crystal Clear
is not a good book and I'm at a loss as to what to compare it to. It is almost (although obviously not quite!) as bad as chick-lit. It deserves only one star but I have decided to give it two simply for not being chick-lit
!

'An-TON,' I yelped. 'ANTONNNN!'

Skidding — almost surfing - on sugar, he arrived at speed and I showed him the reviews.

'What if everyone hates
Crystal Clear
? I said. 'What if no one buys it? Dalkin Emery won't give me a new contract and we'll be buggered. It's not like my new book is any good!'

'Easy, now,' he said. '
Mimi's Remedies
got bad reviews too.'

'But only from smelly old reviewers. Not from real people, not from readers!'

Now I understood why Tania had been so high-pitched and peculiar about the cover change. They were worried that readers would expect a second
Mimi's Remedies
— as the three here had obviously done. Flooded with fear, my mouth tasted metallic.

This hellish mess could not be Gemma's doing - unless she had written all three reviews herself — but I decided to blame her anyway.

'
Crystal Clear
has to do fantastically well,' I gabbled at Anton, 'because if it doesn't, Dalkin Emery won't give me a new contract. And without a new contract, we won't have enough money to pay the next instalment on this house.'

Losing this house! My scalp crawled with terror. I could not imagine anything worse.

Calmly, Anton began to intone, '
Crystal Clear
is a great book. Dalkin Emery are doing a massive campaign for it. It will be a great success. Dalkin Emery have talked about it being a Christmas number one. In a month's time Jojo will go to them and they will offer you a new contract with a huge advance. Everything will be fine. Everything
is
fine.'

PART THREE

Jojo

Since the day Olga and Richie busted Jojo and Mark having lunch in Antonio's, Jojo was anxious about everyone at work knowing. But apart from Skanky Boy frequently calling her 'Hojo', then denying it, no one else treated her differently.

In fact, without her even asking, both Dan Swann and Jocelyn Forsyth assured Jojo that when the time came in November to decide on the new partner, she'd be getting their vote. Considering Mark was already in the bag, she only needed one more and wondered who she should lobby. Jim Sweetman? Why bother even trying? Things had been gnarly between them for months, since the day Cassie Avery came into the office.
And
he'd gotten into bed with Richie Gant a long time ago. But the smart girl didn't hold grudges and Jojo saw nothing wrong with being nice to Jim. But not too nice because it was tacky to look needy, right?

Olga Fisher? Despite having busted her having lunch with Richie Gant, Jojo decided there was nothing to lose fighting back there either. So she bought her a video on the mating habits of Emperor Penguins and skipped any remarks about female solidarity. Olga was not one of those women.

And Nicholas and Cam in Edinburgh? Obviously, she'd met them lots but they'd never really bonded. They didn't come to London often and when they did they stayed just long enough to let everyone know how much they hated the place. 'Why,' they always groused, 'can't these bloody meetings take place in Edinburgh?'

They were a tricky pair. Nicholas was a fierce, beardy forty-something and Cam a super-pale Celt with pastel blue eyes, mid-brown hair and a fine line in bitchy comments.

Jojo tried corralling them one Friday after a meeting. 'Hey, Nicholas, I -'

'I hate this London place,' Nicholas moaned. 'Full of traffic -'

'- and English people,' he and Cam chanted together. 'C'mon, Cam, let's get the flock out of here.'

'Yes, but -'Jojo said, anxious to talk to them.

Nicholas turned a furious glare on her and Cam fixed her with his baby blues. We have a
flight
to catch.'

'Hey, sorry, I… Yeah, safe trip.'

Before their next visit to the London office, Jojo emailed them to suggest a lunch — nothing doing. Unless there were compelling reasons not to, Nicholas said, they liked to catch the three-thirty shuttle back to Edinburgh. Obviously Jojo didn't count as a compelling reason.

Damn, she thought. This pair were as hard to nail down as mercury and she could see only one other option. A little extreme, maybe, but it looked like the only way to have a proper conversation would be to go visit them.

Hey, not such a problem. She'd heard Edinburgh was beautiful and maybe Mark could also discover a reason to visit…

But it was hard to get a window. Cam went on holiday for three whole weeks in September, then Jojo had to attend the Frankfurt book fair, then Nicholas disappeared for a fortnight. They finally agreed to a meeting at the end of October, less than four weeks before Jocelyn left. Jojo was not happy about leaving it so late, but could be late was good. She'd be in their minds at the time of the vote.

She flew with Mark to Edinburgh obscenely early one Friday morning; she was seeing the guys in the a.m., Mark was meeting with them in the afternoon, then… weekend at leisure in a nice hotel. Yay!

On the plane she asked Mark, 'Any advice?'

'Whatever you do, don't patronize them. They're a little… shall we say…
touchy
about their satellite status. Especially because they do an astonishing amount of business. Scotland seems to have a disproportionate number of saleable writers. Think R-E-S-P-E-C-T.'

'Gotcha.'

Mark went to check into the hotel and Jojo got a cab to Lipman Haigh's Edinburgh HQ which was in a four-storeyed, grey-stone house in an ancient-looking crescent. Jojo loved it. Nicholas and Cam greeted her with polite, though not effusive, welcomes. But she was beaming. She was really happy to be here; it was all so
old
.

She was introduced to the seven other members of staff and showed around the offices, the mini-boardroom, even the kitchenette. 'This is where Nicholas and I microwave our lunchtime pot noodles.'

'Aye,' Nicholas growled, 'or our lean cuisines.' Jojo didn't know if she should laugh. Safer not to, she thought.

Back in Nicholas's office, he said, 'But you've not come all this way just to admire our premises. What can we do for you, Jojo?' Pretending this was just a social call felt dishonest; she was happier at the idea of it all being upfront. '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 Bal
morrr
al?'

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 odious.'

'At
rro
cious.'

'M
onns
trous.'

'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 chinless wonder, they've all been. We were wondering what was taking you so long. We thought we might have off
ain
ded 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 aro
maa
tic.

'And pictur
esque
.'

'Ex
aact
ly. 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:
Jojo.harvey@LIPMAN HAIGH.co

FROM:
Mark.avery@LIPMAN 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:
Mark.avery@LIPMAN HAIGH.co

FROM:
Jojo.harvey@LIPMAN HAIGH.co

SUBJECT: Thirty-seven isn't a nice round sum

!

J xxx

Brits, Jojo thought. Mad as cut snakes.

TO:
Jojo.harvey@LIPMAN HAIGH.co

FROM:
Mark.avery@LIPMAN 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 marketing 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.