by Jane Fallon
She drifts back a little. Still within sight but not so intimidatingly close.
The TV personality has got the alligator out now, one hand up its back end making it gurn. There are four more categories to go, according to the programme. And Georgia’s is next.
‘And here …’ he says, alligator looking up at him, big-eyed, ‘… are the nominations for “Best Illustrated Book for Age Six and Under” …’
Pause for dramatic effect.
‘… Sian Hepburn for Why? Said the Pig, Georgia Shepherd for Wilbur’s Christmas, Jan and Peter Seymore for Ferdinand the Flea Joins the Circus and Ian Tranter for Digby the Digger.’
There’s a small round of applause after each name. Lydia feels her heart in her throat. She can’t bear it. Much as she wants things to be back to normal with Georgia, for them to be friends again, the idea of her winning is too painful. Is there any dream of Lydia’s that Georgia is not going to achieve first? Is the seesaw always going to be so loaded on one side?
‘And the winner is …’
Even longer pause for even more ominous dramatic effect. Lydia holds her breath.
The presenter and the alligator wrestle with the envelope for comic effect. There are weak titters. She has to restrain herself from shouting ‘Get on with it!’ and she’s pretty sure she’s not the only one.
‘… Georgia Shepherd for Wilbur’s Christmas.’
Lydia’s heart shrivels. She actually thinks she can feel it contract. A group of people nearby cheer and whoop. They must be from Phoenix, Georgia’s ‘team’. Nick swoops Georgia up in a hug and lifts her off the floor. Harry and Anne Marie jump up and down. Georgia herself just looks shell-shocked. Stunned. Lydia fakes happiness with as much enthusiasm as she can muster.
Which isn’t much.
CHAPTER 46
My first reaction is that I’ve misheard. That, for some reason, they’re reading out the list of nominees again but in a different order. Then I hear Anne Marie shriek and Nick whirls me round. Bibi and Kate scream. As it sinks in, my first thought is maybe Bibi will stop trying to make me reinvent Wilbur now. And then I think, Fucking hell, I’ve actually won!
I’ve barely been concentrating on what’s been going on. The sight of Lydia unsettled me to say the least. There’s no way she’s come for any legitimate reason. She’s here because she knew she’d see me. Or Nick. Nick, Anne Marie and Harry stand round me like a human shield. I was so looking forward to this evening and now all I want to do is to go home. Except that I seem to have won.
‘The judges felt Wilbur has an instant appeal to a young audience, Georgia’s illustrations perfectly convey his character and the book is a useful tool for widening vocabulary and inviting discussion,’ Bobbi the host reads from a card that his alligator puppet is holding in its mouth. I have a sudden sad thought about how much Lydia and I would have laughed about that later. The desperation.
I somehow find myself on the stage. A couple of people snap pictures. In the sea of faces I pick out Nick; Anne Marie and Harry; Bibi and Kate, along with the rest of the Phoenix gang; Jan and Peter, sour-faced; Lydia. I know I need to be quick – Don’t be one of those arseholes that drones on about herself, the voice in my head says. Everyone’s just waiting for the next category. For the awards to be over and the celebrating and commiserating to begin.
I clear my throat. ‘Wow,’ I say. ‘I was so convinced I wouldn’t win that I didn’t write anything down and now I can’t remember my own name, let alone anyone I need to thank …’ There’s a ripple of laughter and I relax. ‘I feel like a bit of a fraud. All the other nominated books are beautiful. Works of art. Wilbur is … well, he’s Wilbur …’
‘We love Wilbur,’ someone, a girl I recognize from Phoenix – Marketing, I think – shouts. I’d already noticed she was looking a bit tipsy. Several other people cheer.
‘Thanks. I love him too.’ I realize as I say it that I do. He might be simplistic but he has character. He’s alive. He’s just not necessarily what I want to spend the rest of my life drawing. ‘I mean, I wish he’d get help for his shopping addiction but otherwise …’ More laughs. I rattle through some thank yous while I have their attention. Everyone I can think of at Phoenix. My agents. I’ve never been a fan of those people who credit God and their children at awards ceremonies but then I see Nick standing there, beaming with pride, and I can’t help myself. ‘I want to thank my husband, Nick. Not because I think he deserves any credit for my work’ – yet more titters – ‘but for putting up with me. We’ve been through some … stuff … lately and it can’t have been easy, but he’s my rock. I don’t know what I’d do without him.’
I turn and look straight at Lydia then, give a huge ‘look how happy I am’ smile. Fuck her.
Afterwards I am whisked off for a photo clutching my stack of gold books, my award. It’s surprisingly heavy. My name is engraved on one of the spines, the title of the book and the category and year on the others. I’m trying to enjoy the moment but I’m distracted wondering what’s going on in the other room. We should, I decide, cut our losses and leave. Go and celebrate somewhere else, the four of us.
I get back out there as soon as I’m able. My little group is intact. Unassailed. The three of them look as happy as if they’d just won something themselves. I can’t see where Lydia is. But then, just as I’m about to rejoin them, she steps out in front of me.
‘George! Congratulations!’
I have nowhere to go. Plus we’re in public and surrounded by my peers so I have to be polite. ‘Hi, Lydia,’ I say through gritted teeth. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you here.’
Someone walks past and pats me on the back. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Thanks,’ I say, without even looking to see who it is.
‘I managed to blag a ticket. You know, because I’d bought the dress and everything when I thought—’
‘Great,’ I interrupt. ‘Well, I should go and join the others …’
She reaches out and puts a hand on my arm. Perfect deep blue nails. Gels. I know where she will have gone to get them done. I know the name of her favourite technician. I know everything about her.
‘I want to talk to you. Please …’
‘Fucking hell, not now.’
‘When then? You don’t answer the phone. I know you were in when I came round the other day …’
‘We really don’t have anything left to talk about.’
Her eyes fill with tears. ‘Please, Georgia.’ But, of course, I’ve seen this party piece before.
‘I’m going. You shouldn’t have come.’
‘Please, George. Please. I know you think I’ve done something awful, but I haven’t. I can explain everything. You know I’d never set out to hurt you …’
I turn to walk away but just as I do Bibi appears out of the crowd.
‘Georgia, darling!’ She grabs me up in a hug. Now I’m an award-winner she loves me suddenly. ‘I knew you’d win!’
I have to stop myself saying, ‘But isn’t Wilbur the Boomer of the children’s book world? Doesn’t he need to be dragged kicking and screaming into the 2020s?’ It’s nice that she’s so pleased for me, even if it’s only because she thinks she’s somehow responsible. ‘I didn’t,’ I say, just as Bibi sticks out a hand to Lydia.
‘Hi. I’m Bibi Welbeck, Georgia’s editor. Isn’t it fantastic?’ Behind her the alligator is ripping open another envelope.
‘Lydia Somers.’ Lydia shakes her hand with a professional smile.
‘Lydia Somers!’ Bibi says, eyes wide.
Shit. No. This can’t be happening.
CHAPTER 47
‘Lydia of the wonderful trolls?’ Bibi gushes. Lydia looks at her, confused. Fuck. I want to walk away but I can’t just leave them to it. I have to derail this train somehow.
‘What happens after the awards?’ I say slightly desperately. ‘Is there a party?’
Someone in the crowd shushes me. Bibi is not to be put off. ‘I’m not going to lie, I was gutted when
I heard you were going to self-publish. They’re pretty special.’
Lydia looks between me and her. I look away. I have no idea what to say to end this. ‘You’ve seen my work?’
The author on the stage wraps up his speech. I need to get out of here but I can’t leave Bibi and Lydia talking. ‘Bibi, shall we go somewhere and celebrate? Everyone from Phoenix, I mean …’
‘Yes, let’s,’ she says and I breathe again. She turns back to Lydia. ‘I told Georgia I really thought we could have made something of them. So marketable. But, good for you. Self-publishing can work if you’ve got a large social media presence. Of course you don’t have the marketing or distribution back-up that you’d get going the traditional route …’
I practically take her arm to drag her away. We need to leave. Go somewhere else. Somewhere Lydia is not. I reckon I have seconds to pull that off.
‘I’m a bit …’ Lydia says. ‘Maybe you’ve mixed me up with someone else. I mean, I do draw trolls …’
I look over at Nick, Harry and Anne Marie as if they might save me. They’re laughing at something. They haven’t noticed that I’m right here, juggling with an unexploded grenade.
‘Lydia Somers? The book with the faeries and trolls? The black and white ink illustrations?’
‘Yes,’ Lydia says with a question in her voice. ‘That’s me. But …’
I am fucked.
‘Georgia gave it to me. I thought she told you.’
They both look at me. The only thing I can think to do is fake a heart attack but I’m not sure I could pull it off. Out of the corner of my eye I see that Anne Marie has noticed me. Noticed Lydia. I raise my eyebrows at her. Help me.
‘Um. No … Did you?’ Lydia fixes her stare on me. Behind her Bobbi the host is wrapping up. Telling us all to go and enjoy ourselves.
‘Ages ago,’ I mutter. ‘I really should get back to my friends. Are you coming, Bibi?’
‘So,’ Bibi says, not allowing me to steer her away. ‘How are you getting on with the self-publishing? I know it can be a minefield.’
‘I’m not … Did Georgia tell you I was self-publishing?’ Lydia asks as the penny finally drops.
‘I was very disappointed, I can tell you. It’s not often a book really grabs me like that. Seven-, eight-year-olds, I thought?’
‘You really liked it?’ Lydia says.
‘Loved it. I’m actively looking for something for that age group now. But edgy, you know …’
‘Game of Gnomes,’ Lydia says.
‘Ha!’ Bibi shrieks. ‘Game of Gnomes! Perfect. Is that what you’re calling it?’
‘Yes. I mean … I’m not sure why Georgia gave you the impression I was self-publishing—’
‘I thought you said that …’ I butt in.
She flares her nostrils at me. ‘I think you know I didn’t.’
‘You’re not?’ Bibi says. I don’t know how to stop where this is going. I notice Anne Marie weaving through the crowd of people, Harry and Nick following. The cavalry.
‘No,’ Lydia says. ‘I’m looking for a publisher, actually.’
‘Congratulations!’ Anne Marie says loudly, getting between Lydia and me. I don’t know how to communicate with her that it’s actually Bibi she needs to keep Lyds away from. ‘Oh, hello, Lydia, I didn’t know you were coming.’
‘This is Bibi, my editor,’ I say. If I can just keep Bibi talking to someone other than Lydia until I can get her away. ‘Anne Marie, Harry, Nick, my husband …’ They all say polite hellos. Lydia shows no sign of moving on. I see her look at Nick. He looks away. ‘I was just saying to Bibi we should go on somewhere and celebrate with all the people from Phoenix.’ I raise my eyebrows at the others for them to pick up the baton on this.
‘Great idea,’ Anne Marie says. ‘We should go now. Otherwise everyone’ll be leaving at once and there’ll be no taxis.’
‘I’ll get the coats,’ Nick offers. I imagine he’s a bit confused about why I’d want to go anywhere with Bibi but he knows me well enough to understand I must have my reasons. He grabs all our tickets.
‘Shall we gather up all the others?’ I say to Bibi. She’s looking a bit bemused by the urgency.
‘Sure,’ she says. ‘We’ll meet you at the front door. Nice to meet you, Lydia.’
I breathe a sigh of relief. But then Bibi roots around in her miniature gold bag and hands Lydia a card. ‘I’d love for you to call me.’
‘I definitely will,’ she says. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’
‘Right,’ Anne Marie says decisively once she’s gone. ‘Let’s go. Bye, Lydia.’
Lydia ignores her. Fixes her stare on me. ‘What the fuck was that all about?’
I shrug. ‘She must have got her wires crossed.’
‘You told her I wasn’t interested in talking to her because I was going to self-publish?’
‘Of course I didn’t,’ I say. But Lydia has always been able to tell when I’m lying.
‘You tried to sabotage my shot at a publishing deal? When you know that’s been my dream all my life?’
‘Steady on,’ Harry says. ‘I don’t think Georgia would ever—’
‘Oh, shut up, Harry. You know nothing about this.’
He stands there open-mouthed, not used to such rudeness.
‘Of course I didn’t. She would never even have seen your book if it wasn’t for me.’
‘My book that she loves,’ Lydia spits.
Nick appears with a heap of coats. ‘Come on, they’re all waiting for you.’ Neither Lydia nor I look at him. We’re locked in our battle, swords drawn. I don’t want her to cause a scene here of all places but I also have to stand my ground.
‘Well, that’s good then, isn’t it?’ I say. ‘You’ve managed to ingratiate yourself with my editor.’ I don’t know why I say that last bit. I should just leave it. She’s right, after all: I did try to sabotage her. But she deserved it. And it was self-preservation as much as anything else.
‘Managed to ingratiate myself with her? You heard her. She approached me. She loves my work. Are you jealous? Weren’t you worried that she didn’t really rate you? That she thought Wilbur was outdated and simplistic? A bit Middle England, isn’t that what you told me?’
‘OK, that’s enough.’ Anne Marie takes her arm. Lydia shakes her off. People are starting to listen in. Pausing their conversations to better hear what’s going on.
‘Let’s just go,’ I say.
‘Are you worried she’s found something she can be much more passionate about? Wait … are you worried she thinks I’m more talented than you are? You couldn’t bear that, could you? For me to become the successful one. That’s not how it’s supposed to be, is it? Not in your world.’
‘Lydia, that’s enough,’ Anne Marie says in the voice I imagine she uses for her year sevens. ‘This isn’t the time or the place—’
‘Sorry, is this anything to do with you?’ Lydia spits.
‘Stop being such a bitch,’ Anne Marie says. I turn away. There’s no point in allowing this to escalate. And the truth is that what Lydia said stings. I am worried about exactly those things.
‘That’s good coming from you,’ I hear Lydia say. I turn back. Harry puffs up like an angry cat.
‘OK, that’s enough,’ he says. ‘Leave Anne Marie out of this.’
‘Aah, how gallant, coming to her rescue. I hope she appreciates it.’
‘You’re pathetic,’ Anne Marie says. ‘Trying to ruin Georgia’s big night like this.’
‘Come on, let’s go. I don’t know what you were hoping for coming here tonight, Lydia, but if it was for us to forget everything and move on then I wouldn’t say it’s been a great success,’ I say. I put my hand on Anne Marie’s back.
‘I might have come away with a book deal, though, so I’d say it was worth it.’
‘Someone giving you their card and saying they like your work is hardly the same as them offering you a contract.’ Anne Marie is refusing to budge. My lanky Rottweiler. ‘I bet she�
�s given twenty people her card tonight.’
‘Sorry, I’m going to ask again … what exactly does any of this have to do with you?’ Lydia snaps.
‘They really are all waiting,’ Nick says to no one in particular. There’s actually a small crowd gathered round us now, all pretending they’re not listening, but you could hear a pin drop.
‘I’m being a good friend,’ Anne Marie says. ‘But I guess you wouldn’t know about loyalty …’
‘Oh, and you do? That’s rich.’
An alarm bell rings in my head. Suddenly I know what she’s about to say and I’m powerless to stop it.
‘We really are leaving now,’ I say, yanking Anne Marie’s top.
But it’s too late.
CHAPTER 48
It’s as if it happens in slow motion.
Anne Marie is actually turning to go, Harry and Nick along with her. We’re so close to it being over. A little uncomfortable; a few curious looks from my peers. Nothing I can’t get over. I didn’t embarrass myself. Lydia is the one who looks like the crazed, bitter troublemaker. I’ll almost certainly be the object of sympathy in the story. Did you see poor Georgia Shepherd having to deal with that madwoman? I can live with that.
