Daisy Does it Herself

by Gracie Player

  ‘Tony, be a love and do something about this,’ he said, gesturing at the cat. Tony, who had positioned himself by the door like a bouncer at a nightclub, unfolded his arms and scratched his chin.

  ‘Mr Benchley,’ the massive man said, ‘I’m afraid I’m not insured for that.’

  ‘Fine,’ Tom said. ‘I’ll just sit here and die the death of a thousand cuts, shall I?’

  ‘Yes sir,’ Tony said. ‘As you wish.’

  Having been defeated by his own snark, Dottie remained in Tom’s lap, purring victoriously.

  ‘So explain to me again why you saw fit to break into my home and accost me unannounced,’ Tom said. I paused and examined his face, but I had a hard time reading it.

  ‘Go on. I’m listening.’

  ‘The bookshop is in financial trouble. It’s going to be repossessed unless we can come up with the funds to pay the bank off. We’ve exhausted every avenue. We just don’t have the money.’

  ‘But I don’t see how I can help,’ Tom said. ‘Are you looking for a handout? Because, well, my assets aren’t very…liquid at the moment I’m afraid.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Alex said. He was looking increasingly uncomfortable and I realised how difficult this whole conversation was for him.

  ‘Not money,’ I said. ‘Just your help.’

  ‘Go on.’

  I took a deep breath. It was all on the line. I’d better not mess it up this time.

  ‘A reading,’ I said. ‘For one night only. That way I can stream it to your worldwide following and make enough to save the bookshop from closure.’

  ‘I don’t do readings,’ Tom said firmly, ‘or signings, or any other kind of public appearance. Not anymore.’

  ‘But why? Your books are so popular. People love them,’ I said.

  Noah nodded enthusiastically.

  ‘Not that I blame you, of course,’ I continued. ‘I expect you’re a bit sick of all the adulation.’

  Tom laughed unhappily. ‘Adulation I’m perfectly fine with, my dear.’

  I took a guess. ‘Is it the writing? Is it not going so well?’

  ‘This is all rather embarrassing,’ Tom said, his shoulders up around his ears.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said sympathetically. ‘You can tell us.’

  ‘I’m afraid while I was writing The Dominion of Gyrth I was going through a stage of taking some rather strong hallucinogenics,’ he said.

  ‘Righto,’ I replied, for lack of a better response.

  ‘I thought it made me interesting, I suppose. You know, the tortured artist. The truth is, I don’t even remember writing the darned things. I mean what the hell are the Children of Punga when they’re at home?’

  Noah clutched his chest.

  ‘You wrote their entire history,’ he said, ‘from the dawning of the golden age to the massacre at Mythering. The rise and fall of an ancient underwater civilisation all in one thousand perfectly formed words.’

  Tom shrugged.

  ‘Not a scooby,’ he said. ‘Now here I am. Stuck. I can’t make head nor tail of it all. I can’t bear to read them back, it’s like hearing your voice on the answerphone. It doesn’t sound like me. That’s why I came back here three years ago. To get away from all the distraction. Finish the darn books and move on. But I just can’t. That’s the real reason I’ve been holed up here.

  ‘Daisy, I’d love nothing more than to do your reading, but the truth is, I’ve got nothing to read.

  ‘That whole fictional world was created by an out of control youth with a Tolkien fetish and a drug problem. I can’t get back into that same headspace.

  ‘I even tried acid again. It did not go well.’

  Tony shook his head.

  ‘We will not be repeating that experiment, sir,’ he said.

  ‘So you can see my issue. All these endless characters, and royal bloodlines, and what have you, it has so little to do with me. Just today I was reviewing a past scene in which a minor character impales his half-brother or possibly his uncle with a spiked halberd, and I was thinking, who the hell is that?’

  ‘He’s the third cousin removed of Wyner Rookstaff,’ said Noah, without missing a beat.

  Despite himself, Tom Benchley laughed, impressed by Noah’s powers of recollection. ‘A fan of the series, I take it?’

  Noah nodded and gave a nervous cough.

  ‘I loved the books as a kid. I know them like the back of my own hand.’

  Listening to Tom recount his troubles, an idea suddenly came to me. ‘I might be speaking out of turn here,’ I said, ‘but maybe Noah could help you find your way back into the storyline? I daresay the whole process would go a lot quicker and smoother if you had a guide.’

  Noah nodded. Nodded again. And kept on nodding at the suggestion.

  ‘And maybe in turn you could do a reading. If Noah can help you whip it into shape.’

  A little glimmer of mischief lit up Tom’s face.

  ‘After what your father did for me, Alex, I feel I have to repay the favour. Besides, it’ll drive my publicist mad.’ He grinned. ‘He’s been on my case daily for the last three years. Irritating little twerp.

  ‘Sod it. I’ll do your reading. Now hold your horses,’ he said when he saw my excited expression, ‘I said I’d do a reading of some sort, but I really need to think about whether I’m ready to reveal the new content to the world. When would you need to know by?’

  I laughed nervously. ‘By Monday.’

  ‘Monday!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘We’re up against the clock,’ I said. ‘To stave off disaster, we’re talking days, not weeks.’

  ‘Okay,’ Tom said. ‘I’ll let you know on Monday. But I can’t promise you anything – you need to realise that.’

  ‘Either way,’ Noah said, ‘I’ll be here first thing tomorrow.’

  ‘No, no,’ Tom said. ‘That’s not nearly enough time. Noah, my love, I’m afraid we are going to have to start right away.’

  ‘Sure,’ Noah said, playing it cool. ‘I guess I could re-jig my schedule a bit.’

  ‘Now then, if the rest of you are done invading my privacy, it appears to be cocktail hour.’ It was ten-thirty. ‘Noah, would you care to join me?’

  Noah looked like he was about to spontaneously combust with joy.

  As Alex and I traipsed out of Tom’s study, I was glowing.

  ‘I can’t believe we pulled that off.’

  ‘You did,’ Alex said as I bounced along beside him. ‘I just sat there like a rabbit caught in the headlights.’

  ‘The bookshop means everything to you,’ I said. ‘It’s no wonder things have gotten a bit too much. You know, Alex, you don’t always have to do everything by yourself.’

  Alex took a deep breath. ‘I couldn’t believe it when he said he knew my father. Dad never mentioned it.’

  ‘I suppose he was just some kid your dad helped back then. Not the hotshot author he is now.’

  ‘My dad was always helping people,’ Alex said.

  ‘Sounds familiar,’ I said, linking my arm through his. ‘I’m not saying this is in the bag. Not by any means. But you know, I definitely think we’re in with a chance.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Alex said, looking positive for the first time in days.

  We approached Liam who was hacking at the hydrangea bush with a pair of wicked looking shears, his face like thunder.

  ‘Well, you didn’t get me sacked then with this little stunt. That’s something.’

  ‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘No harm done. So can we have a lift back now?’

  Liam tossed his head back and laughed. ‘You must be bloody joking! You’ve signed on as gardeners for the day. The least you can do is pitch in.’

  He pointed at several large bags marked manure.

  ‘You can start by spreading that lot on the roses.’<
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  Thirty-Six

  The next morning, I sprang into action. I’d pencilled in the following Friday for Tom Benchley’s reading. That gave me a total of seven days to make this event a reality, raise the money, and have the necessary funds clear. It was going to be tight.

  After breakfast, I turned the stock room into a makeshift base of operations, having already cleared the desk of clutter and made room for an office chair. Janice popped in every half hour or so for an update, and to ply me with endless cups of tea and biscuits.

  To begin with, I studied the various live streaming platforms, looking for the one that promised the greatest reliability, swift and secure payment, and which could handle the kind of bandwidth that was needed. I winnowed the options down to three, then two, then made my pick.

  ‘Found one?’ Janice asked, bringing me another refill.

  ‘Wondercast. They’ll live stream the event, we’ll sell tickets through their platform, and best of all they come in and do all the filming, production, etcetera, for you. They charge ten percent of the profit, but there are no upfront costs.

  ‘We don’t even need any equipment; they provide all that. The only snag is the deposit. It’s not much, but it’s non-refundable if this all falls through.’

  Janice snorted. ‘If it means saving the bookshop, I’ll pay it.’ I leapt up and enveloped her in a hug.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Anything for Alex,’ she said. I knew how she felt.

  That was two major issues taken care of, not bad for a single morning’s work. But there was no way I could rest on my laurels. The amount still left to do was intimidating. Every second counted.

  Next up, it was social media. I set up new accounts on Twitter, Facebook, Reddit, and all the unofficial Dominion of Gyrth forums; everywhere that Gyrthsters congregated online to pore over their obsession.

  With Noah’s help, some nifty software, and my own intuition, I started to identify the biggest champions and key influencers. Things picked up a notch when Noah sheepishly admitted he was head of his local chapter of Benchley’s Berserkers, the unofficial fan club for all things Tom Benchley. The first tendrils of excitement were already reaching out to the fandom. I checked Wondercast. Ten sales so far. Okay, not great, but I had only just gotten started.

  I also started tracking down traditional journalists who might be interested in this sort of thing. I collected all this info in a massive spreadsheet, ready to begin my outreach in earnest.

  At five-thirty the next morning, I started contacting all the people on my list. At five-forty-five I started fielding irate phone calls from Tom Benchley’s publicist. To say that Alan Richards of Alan Richards Inc. was not pleased was a bit of an understatement. But seeing as Tom had repeatedly sacked him over the last few years, he could bluster as much as he liked. I was doing this with Tom’s blessing, it was happening. When I remarked that it could only be to his benefit that Tom was actually doing promo again, even though it had come about in a way he didn’t agree with, Alan mulled it over for a moment then said begrudgingly, ‘You’re certainly a pushy young thing. But really you need an expert on the case.’

  ‘Sure,’ I said, gritting my teeth. I was willing to take whatever help I could get. Within the hour, Alan had arranged a phone interview with the Guardian’s entertainment journalist. True to form, Tom was refusing to do interviews; not wanting to dilute the impact, he’d said grandly. So it was down to me. I couldn’t give the journalist much, but she seemed interested enough in the fact that Tom was giving a reading at all after so many years. She especially liked the saving the local bookshop angle, which I cunningly managed to shoehorn into the conversation. An article appeared on the website that afternoon. Within a few hours, the post had been shared thousands of times. All right Alan, I thought begrudgingly, you know your shit. Up went the ticket count yet again.

  By the end of the day, my wrists ached from typing and my jaw from talking. There was still so much to do, but one glance at the ticket sales steadily ticking upwards was enough to reassure me I was on the right track.

  Just as I was considering a loo break and maybe a quick breath of fresh air, Cece and Noah poked their heads around the door.

  Cece laughed when she saw me behind the desk surrounded by dozens of hand-written notes and print-outs. ‘You look like a five star general – as if you’re waging a war!’

  I smiled wearily. ‘Well, Sergeant Cece, what news have you got for me from the front line?’

  ‘We spent the day with Tom. I only went for a nose really, but Tom seemed rather keen for me to stay and he’s got a pool on the grounds. So…’

  ‘Cece just happened to have her swimsuit with her,’ Noah said.

  Cece shrugged. ‘It’s best to be prepared, I always say.’

  ‘And the fact that you haven’t read any of his books? I take it that wasn’t a big issue?’

  Cece pursed her lips and thought it over. ‘No. It was fine. I think Tom just liked me being there.’

  ‘Yes for some strange reason he didn’t seem too put off by the sight of you swanning around in a skimpy bikini,’ Noah said.

  Cece pouted.

  ‘It was hot out,’ she said. ‘You joke, but he is enormously lonely, locked away in that big old mansion.’

  ‘My heart bleeds,’ I said dryly.

  ‘Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Noah, how did it go with Tom? What do you think? Are we still on for next Friday?’

  ‘The reading’s definitely still on. He’s actually quite excited about it. He’s got a special piece all picked out. Says it’s a surprise for Alex. But he’s still anxious about revealing any of his new material. I think deep down he wants to, but it’s not easy for him. Honestly right now, I think he could go either way,’ Noah said.

  ‘Well, I guess we take what we can get,’ I said, trying not to feel too discouraged. ‘It’s really very generous of him to be doing this at all.’

  ‘I think it’s good for him,’ Cece said. ‘Noah says the writing is really very good. He just needs a push, a bit of confidence. I think all the success and expectation got a bit much for him. He acts confident, but I don’t think he is, not deep down.’

  ‘When are you going back?’ I asked.

  ‘Tom asked us to come in tomorrow,’ Cece said. ‘If we can make it.’

  ‘Can you make it?’ I asked anxiously.

  ‘Of course,’ Noah said. ‘If it means saving the bookshop, it’s the least we can do.’

  It was the second time I’d heard that kind of pledge today. It was lucky that Alex had such great friends, although lord knows he deserved them.

  Right, back to work. Things were starting to gather steam, ticket sales creeping ever upwards. We’d had some interest from the local press, and another national newspaper was running a story. They’d even had a lively debate about Tom Benchley on the chat show, Loose Women.

  The problem was, all anyone seemed to care about was whether there would be an announcement about the new book.

  I thought it likely that Tom wouldn’t be ready, and the thought was a tight knot in my belly that wouldn’t go away. I realised that anything else would be a massive anti-climax. Sure, we might make some money, but I had talked Tom into this, and I felt responsible for any backlash he might face. Even if it was his decision.

  On the Monday, I was a bit of a wreck as we waited on the author’s decision. Bristling with nervous energy, I went upstairs to see how Alex was doing. We would be hosting the reading in the big room upstairs and Alex had been working on it for the last few days.

  When I poked my head through the door, I saw that he’d created something special. The room was not only clean and tidy, with rows of neatly laid out chairs but had a warm and intimate ambience as well. The lighting was just right, dim enough so that everyone would look attractive, bright enough so that we wouldn’t have to squint to see th
em. The walls were lined with quirky paintings from local artists, and the shelves along the edges of the room were bursting with books. Everywhere mahogany gleamed.

  Alex was waxing one of the chairs, bringing its sheen out, but stopped when he saw me. He nodded at the room in general.

  ‘What do you think?’

  ‘It’s perfect,’ I said.

  ‘How are things going your end?’

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘A few loose ends, but I should be able to sort those out tomorrow. Now all we need is for Tom Benchley to come through.’

  ‘About that…’ Alex said, even now not sounding all that hopeful.

  ‘Still not ready to take a leap of faith?’

  Alex smiled. ‘I am trying, Daisy.’ He put down the waxing cloth and took a few steps towards me. ‘To be honest, what I fear as much as anything is that all of this will be a huge disappointment for you.’

  Studying his face, I could see that he meant it. Even now, Alex was thinking about me, worried about my feelings.

  ‘It’s fine,’ I said, trying to speak breezily. ‘It’s not like I have much of a professional reputation to squander.’

  ‘Still, you are going out on a limb here,’ he said.

  I shrugged. ‘Maybe a little bit.’

  ‘And you’re doing it for me,’ he said with emotion.

  I tried shrugging this off too, without much success.

  ‘That’s what friends are for.’

  Alex’s face ticked. I realised that word – friend – was like a dagger in his heart. But what could I do? I’d made my decision. I certainly wasn’t going to keep leading him on. I was busy trying to think of something to say to break the tension when I was saved by the pounding of feet running up the stairs.

  Cece and Noah burst in.

  ‘It’s on!’ Noah said. ‘He’s going to read from the first chapter of the new book.’

  The blood rushed out of my head. Holy shit. The fandom was going to go mental.

  I rushed forwards and swept them up into a fierce hug while Alex watched on, laughing. ‘You two are bloody marvellous!’