‘I’ve really ignored my birthday for the last couple of years. I couldn’t bear to celebrate it without Mum. It didn’t seem right somehow when I missed her so much. She always went to town for my birthday. Made it a special day – just like you have.’
Ben reached across and held her hand. ‘I wish I’d met your mother.’
‘I wish you had too,’ Jodie said. ‘She’d have loved you as much as I do.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘I felt so guilty after she died. Oh, I know it wasn’t me that knocked her off her bike,’ she said as Ben went to protest. ‘But I did grow up and leave home without a single thought as to how she felt.’
‘It is the natural order of things – children do grow up and leave home,’ Ben said gently.
‘It was only after she died that I realised she’d kept herself busy, busy, busy to stop herself being lonely.’ Jodie bit her lip. ‘That’s when my guilt really hit me. I should have known and included her in my life more.’ She finished her coffee and replaced the cup carefully on its saucer.
‘Tina and I tried to set her up once with a professor from college. We were convinced they’d be perfect for each other. Mum didn’t agree and told me to stop meddling. Said she was happy doing her own thing and didn’t need a man in her life. And if she did, she’d find him herself, thank you very much!’ Jodie gave a rueful laugh.
‘From what you’ve told me before about your mother, I think she told you the truth.’
Jodie nodded. ‘I can’t help wondering sometimes, though, what life would have been like if my father hadn’t died. She normally refused to talk about him but told me once, when I was being a typical difficult teenager and causing her grief, that my father might have been the love of her life but she wished I hadn’t inherited his stubborn genes.’
Ben laughed. ‘I’m learning to live with that stubborn streak of yours. Come on. I think it’s time you drove us home.’ Standing up, he held out his hand.
As Jodie took it he pulled her gently towards him and kissed her. ‘Happy Birthday, Mrs Delahaye – and many, many more to come.’
Two hours later, as Jodie drove them down the lane towards home, she knew her driving mojo had returned and she absolutely loved the little car.
‘Brigitte and I are going to have such fun together,’ she said, parking in front of the cottage and patting the steering wheel.
‘Who?’ Ben asked, startled.
‘My car. She’s so pretty, she deserves a nice name.’
Ben laughed. ‘Brigitte she is.’
‘Thank you again for making the day so special,’ Jodie said as they went into the cottage.
‘Hey, the day’s not over yet,’ Ben said. ‘There’s still champagne in the fridge. And cake.’
His mobile rang at that moment and he glanced at the caller ID. ‘I think I’d better answer this,’ he said. ‘Could be important.’
‘OK,’ Jodie said. ‘I’ll be in the kitchen when you’ve finished.’ Her own phone and laptop were on the kitchen table where she’d left them earlier that morning, the phone’s blue light flashing, indicating a missed call. Tina.
Quickly Jodie pressed the button and waited for Tina to pick up.
‘Happy Birthday. I hope you’ve been having a great day. Ben been spoiling you?’ Tina said.
‘I’ve had a truly lovely day,’ Jodie said. ‘I’ve never been so spoilt. Haven’t got time right now to tell you everything,’ she said, as Ben came into the kitchen looking serious. ‘I’ll email you later and tell you all about it.’
Switching off her phone she turned to Ben.
‘Was it important?’
Ben nodded. ‘Yes. It was Herve with news about the house.’
Jodie held her breath as she waited for Ben to continue. Was the news about the house going to make her birthday complete – or ruin it?
Chapter Twenty-One
The night before she officially opened the agency for business, Tina slept fitfully. Worries about whether she was doing the right thing kept her awake for hours. Was she a good enough agent – and well-known enough – to attract writers? Would she be able to sell their work?
With her own savings, plus her last wages and holiday pay, and Jodie’s investment, there was enough money in the bank to survive for a year, possibly even eighteen months. Provided, of course, there were no expensive emergencies. She’d know by then whether the agency was going to work or not. She only needed a couple of successful authors to start the ball rolling. One mega-bestselling title would, of course, be even better, but Tina knew better than to wish for the impossible.
Her mind was also busy going over and over the things Jodie had said were in place to kickstart things as from today. Tina Matthews Literary Agency would make her appearance on several well-known writers’ forums and bloggers’ sites, alerting writers to the fact she was looking to expand her list.
Tina grinned at the thought. Expand? More a question of getting a list at the moment. But they weren’t to know that, were they? The information Jodie had put together for these announcements was carefully worded and simply said Tina had represented several well-known authors during her career and was delighted to be opening her own agency.
A couple of the interviews Jodie had organised were also due out today. ‘Basically, we need to flood the internet with your name for at least forty-eight hours,’ Jodie had said to her. And that was what the publicity she’d created was about to do.
The Bookseller had picked up Jodie’s press release and today’s issue would tell the publishing world that Tina Matthews Literary Agency was looking for clients. The website, Twitter and Facebook pages were all up and running.
After her disturbed night, Tina was awake for once and in the shower before the alarm went off. She mightn’t have any actual clients yet but there was still a lot of behind-the-scenes work she had to do.
A quick breakfast with Maisie and she was sitting at her desk by 8.30, ready to begin work – and the rest of her life.
Opening her email programme, she found nine emails from authors asking her to read their work. A couple of queries were from new authors but there were also three queries from established writers, anxious to either change or find an agent. Tina took a sharp intake of breath as she saw the name on one of the emails. Lucinda Penwood.
Tina read it through carefully, twice, before sitting back thoughtfully. Lucinda said she hadn’t yet received an official offer for representation from Kirsty and wrote: ‘Now that you’re opening your own agency, if you’re interested in representing me, could we meet to discuss things? You’ve been highly recommended and I’d really like you to be my agent.’
If Kirsty or Leah hadn’t made Lucinda an offer, then she, Tina, was within her rights to sign her up. She wouldn’t be poaching her or acting unprofessionally. Clicking the reply button before she could change her mind, Tina typed quickly.
Would be delighted to meet and talk. Not sure where you are in London but would somewhere central like Covent Garden suit you? I’m free this Thursday afternoon at three, if that’s good for you. Let me know and I’ll book a table at one of the cafés.
She pressed send and tried to curb the excitement she felt at the thought of finding a publisher for Lucinda’s time-slip novel. If the book was as big a bestseller as she was convinced it could be, the agency would be off to a brilliant start. Best not to place too many hopes on that, though.
It was an hour before Lucinda’s reply pinged into her box. Thank you. Let me know which café and I’ll see you then.
Tina booked a table for afternoon tea at her favourite café, emailed the details to Lucinda, and tried to put the meeting out of her mind.
She was reading the first chapter of a promising manuscript at midday when the flat doorbell rang. Opening the door she was greeted with a huge basket of flowers with a red helium balloon wishing her ‘Good Luck’ tied to the handle. The card read ‘Here’s to the Tina Matthews Literary Agency. Love Jodie and Ben.’
When Ben had said, ‘It w
as Herve with news about the house,’ Jodie had known it was not the news she wanted to hear.
‘The owners have finally got back to him. As the house has only been on the market a short time – we were actually the first to view it – they want to wait to see if anyone else offers the full asking price, so they’ve turned our offer down for the moment.’
Jodie’s heart sank. ‘Did Herve say how long they intended to wait?’
Ben shook his head. ‘No. But he did say he was taking another couple to see the house at the weekend.’
‘Our offer wasn’t that much lower than the asking price,’ Jodie said. ‘Could we increase it?’
Ben sighed. ‘The problem is I don’t have a regular income. Half-yearly royalties go up and down. The bank have agreed to give me a mortgage but they’ve also told me they’re not prepared to go any higher. Paying the asking price would take me above the figure they will give me. I suppose I could ask Mama for help if I have to.’
Jodie bit her lip. ‘I guess then we’ve no option but to hope no one makes a better offer. Unless…’ She hesitated. ‘Rather than asking Annette for help, there’s always my mum’s insurance money as well as my savings? I know you’ve said no once to that but I do really love the house. It just feels so right for us.’
‘You’ve just agreed to use the money for Tina’s agency,’ Ben said.
‘Only a bit of it. There’s still a fair amount left.’
‘How much?’
When Jodie named the figure, he whistled under his breath.
‘Mum took out an insurance policy years ago,’ Jodie said. ‘I think she worried about how I’d manage if anything happened to her. No benign aunts or other relatives hiding in the background ready to take me under their wing. When we met, I was thinking of using the money as a deposit on a property of my own. So why can’t we use it towards a house for us? A larger deposit could mean having a smaller mortgage even if we pay the full asking price.’
Jodie went to Ben and put her arms around him. ‘We are married and that old adage I mentioned before, “what’s mine is yours”, definitely applies in this case.’
Ben hugged her.
‘Mum would be so thrilled to know she was helping us buy our dream home,’ Jodie said quietly.
Ben kissed the top of her head gently. ‘D’accord. I’ll phone Herve and tell him we’ll give the full offer price. And we’ll be in to sign the papers tomorrow, so he can cancel any more viewings.’
The next morning Jodie insisted they went down to the estate agent’s first thing. They were so early that Herve had yet to unlock the door. Before they signed, Herve explained the legalities of what they were doing and the fact that they, and the owners, had a cooling-off period of seven days before the notaries would start processing things.
‘We can’t be gazumped now, can we?’ Jodie said as she signed her name to several forms, desperately trying to stop her right foot tapping nervously at the mention of a seven-day delay.
‘Gazumping is something that happens in England, Madame. Here in France we don’t understand the word.’ The disdain in his voice as Herve looked at her was evident and Jodie had to bite her lip to stop herself from pulling a face and poking her tongue out at him.
Back in the cottage Jodie spent the rest of the day busily networking online and spreading the word about the Tina Matthews Literary Agency. Late afternoon she Skyped Tina to hear how things had gone at her end.
‘Thanks for the flowers,’ Tina said. ‘It’s me who should be sending you flowers really. You aced the publicity for me today.’
‘Publicity is my business!’ Jodie laughed. ‘Too early to see any results but…’
‘Actually, it’s not,’ Tina interrupted. ‘Lucinda Penwood has been in touch and we’re having a meeting soon. And several authors have already emailed me manuscripts wanting me to sign them up.’
‘Brilliant,’ Jodie said. ‘We’ll soon have some names on the “authors represented” page of the website. Don’t forget to celebrate tonight.’
‘I’m going to treat Maisie and me to a Chinese,’ Tina said.
‘How are things with Maisie?’
‘She’s doing great. Has decided to stay and give living down here a real go. Her parents are coming to see her soon. John, her ex, has turned up though, making things a bit difficult. She seems to be coping with that quite well, I think.’
‘I’m sure things will work out,’ Jodie said diplomatically. ‘Right. I’d better go and rattle a few pots and pans and get our supper going. Ooh, I nearly forgot to tell you my news. Our offer on the house we love has been accepted and we’ve signed the contract.’
‘Exciting. Hope it’s big enough for visitors,’ Tina said.
‘Always room for you,’ Jodie said.
‘Send me the photo you promised me – and if you have a housewarming party, don’t forget to invite me,’ Tina said. ‘Talk tomorrow.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jumping off the bus and making her way down the Strand towards the café where she was meeting Lucinda Penwood, Tina smiled happily. It was good to be back. She hadn’t anticipated how much she’d miss the hustle and bustle of central London when she was no longer working there.
The short time since leaving Kirsty’s and starting to work from the flat had made her appreciate how lucky she was to have the chance to give up commuting every day on overcrowded public transport. The downside of working from home, though, was the solitude and lack of office stimulation. Not to mention the buzz London itself generated. She’d definitely have to make sure she met up here with clients as often as possible – if only for the personal high it gave her.
The café she’d chosen was close to her old office. It was one she’d always liked using, and the staff knew her there. Kirsty took her clients to a modern, arty one nearer to the centre of Covent Garden so there was little chance of them bumping into each other.
A family with several children, a couple of tourists, and a single man with an empty coffee cup and a newspaper were occupying the tables and chairs on the pavement as she walked past into the café itself.
Nigel, the manager, greeted her like an old friend, saying how nice it was to see her again and how was she?
‘Your table for two – inside or out this afternoon?’
‘Inside, please,’ Tina said. It was easier to hold a private conversation in the large room that ran the length of the building, where the tables were spaced well apart and without the noise of traffic.
Nigel showed her to a table set back by the long wooden counter and with a good view of the door. Tina took out her iPad. With ten minutes still to spare before Lucinda arrived she had time to read a couple of pages of something. If she could concentrate.
Tina glanced up as an elegant woman entered. Lucinda? No, Nigel was showing her to a table by the window. What would Lucinda be like? Her initial letter with the manuscript had given few personal details: she’d written a couple of features for a national magazine, and a trade magazine had published three of her articles on finance – how to budget and manage your credit cards, that kind of thing – but this was her first novel. She’d said something about a big birthday coming up and wanting to have a novel published by the time that landmark happened. Maybe Lucinda was facing the big three-oh like her.
A tall, dark-haired man with olive skin entered and, to her surprise, Nigel pointed him in her direction.
‘Tina Matthews?’
‘Yes. Do I know you?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘May I sit down?’
Tina looked at him. He had the most amazing blue eyes. Mesmerising. She shook herself. ‘I’m sorry but I’m waiting for someone.’
‘I know. Lucinda Penwood.’
‘Yes. Oh, please don’t tell me she’s sent you to tell me she can’t make it. I was really looking forward to meeting her.’ Tina sighed.
‘No. She’s here.’
‘Where?’ Tina said, looking around.
‘In front of you.�
� There was a short silence before he continued. ‘I’m Lucinda.’
Tina burst out laughing. ‘Really? You don’t look like a Lucinda to me.’ She kept the thought that he was far too handsome to herself.
‘Honestly. I am she,’ the man said, his eyes twinkling. ‘Otherwise known as Lucien Eldrich. You may call me Luc.’
‘OK… Luc. I’ll ask Nigel to bring tea over and then you can explain yourself.’
Tina waited while Nigel placed the sandwiches, cakes and finally teacups, teapot and milk on the table, before leaving them with a cheerful ‘Enjoy’.
‘So why the pen name?’ Tina asked as she poured the tea.
‘I simply thought a female name would work better for a romantic time-slip,’ Luc said, politely offering her the plate of mixed sandwiches before taking a couple for himself. ‘As for the surname, I thought it went well with Lucinda. I know men do write romance but it’s not usual – it seems to be a genre more for women writers. What do you think?’
‘I think it could be a very shrewd move on your part,’ Tina said. ‘Although the men who do write romance well tend to be very successful.’ Thoughtfully, she sipped her tea. ‘Maybe even just an initial followed by the surname would work. No…’ She shook her head. ‘We’ll go with the full name from the beginning but create a mystery about who exactly Lucinda Penwood is, get the book flying before we reveal the name Lucinda to be the pen name of a man.’
Deep in thought, she helped herself to a chocolate brownie. ‘That way we’d generate a second lot of extra publicity when we do reveal you to the world. Women would be falling over themselves to buy this exciting book written for them by a sexy, handsome man. That’s my professional opinion, of course,’ she added hastily, realising what she’d said. No way did she want Luc to get the wrong impression. ‘Or we could keep up the pretence for several books. So there would be no photos, no personal details, no publicised meetings with publishers, no interviews with the media, etc.,’ Tina added. ‘You’d have to keep a low profile and trust me to do the deals. You also have to write a second book as quickly as possible.’
A Year of Taking Chances Page 10
