‘Promise?’
‘I promise.’ Smiling, I added, ‘You do know that you and mydad are my most faithful fans?’
She shrugged. ‘Pleased to be of service. Just make sure youremember us when you’re rich and famous.’
‘Don’t worry, I will.’
‘And I want to be your guest on the red carpet whenHollywood makes your book into a movie.’
I laughed, excitement bubbling inside. ‘It’s a deal.’
I submitted my entry, not really expecting to hear anything.So when, two months later, an email plopped into my inbox congratulating me andtelling me I’d made the final shortlist of five, I was so shocked, I just satthere for ages with my mouth open, reading the missive over and over again. Ithink I doubted the evidence of my own eyes. But when it finally processed inmy mind that I was actually a regional finalist, I started to laugh and cry atthe same time.
The email mentioned the Swan Hotel in Sunnybrook – just atwenty-minute drive from where we lived, in Compton Mills – and a date at whichthe regional winner would be announced. How I got through those three weekswithout exploding with excitement, I really don’t know.
But finally, today, I’m in Sunnybrook at the Swan Hotel, andthe announcement is about to be made...
CHAPTER THREE
The awards ceremony is terrifying, thrilling and yet surprisinglysociable, all at the same time.
When I go into the room – which is arranged with red seatscinema-style – around thirty people are milling around or standing at the sidesin little groups, chatting. Some have taken their seats and lots of eyes swivelin my direction when I enter.
A tall woman in a fitted green dress notices me, apologisesto the woman she’s talking to and walks over. She introduces herself as Pamelaand says she’s the organiser of the event, and after chatting to me for a fewminutes about my book – it’s clear she’s read all five entries – I’m feeling alittle more relaxed. She explains what’s going to happen and then sheintroduces me to the other shortlisters, who are all really nice and chatty,and confess to being as nervous as I am, which instantly makes me feel better.And once I have a strong coffee and a shortbread biscuit in hand, I’m startingto feel ready for anything.
Along with the shortlist finalists and the panel of judges,there’s a team representing the publishing house who will be bringing out thewinning novel, as well as a gathering of literary agents. When we’re allseated, Pamela introduces the publishing team, and one of the women stands upand talks about what an exciting opportunity this is, for author and publisheralike, and how proud we should be to have got this far in the competition.
‘We can’t wait to work with the eventual winner.’ She smilesat the five of us, sitting in the front row. ‘Although in my eyes, you’realready winners.’
After that, we hear from an agent, who explains what shelooks for when reading a manuscript submitted by an unknown writer. Afterwishing us luck, she smiles over at her fellow literary agents, sitting in agroup in the back row. ‘Please make sure you remember us when your magnificentmanuscripts are polished and ready to send out.’
And then it’s time to announce the regional winner.
I feel quite light-headed by this time, and my stomach isprotesting so much, I keep having to swallow hard. And when the name of thewinner is finally announced, I start clapping in a daze along with everyoneelse.
The girl next to me turns and looks at my name badge and hereyebrows rise. She nudges me and grins. ‘It’s you!’ she hisses, and I suddenlyrealise everyone is looking at me and smiling.
The applause is all for me?
Pamela stands up and congratulates me. ‘How are youfeeling?’ she asks, adding that it would be lovely if I said a few words – butonly if I want to.
I’ve never had a problem with speaking in public so I smileand stand up, trembling and still rather light-headed, and I manage to thankPamela and the publishers for the fantastic opportunity. I smile shyly aroundat everyone. ‘I can’t wait to get to work on finishing my novel. And I want towish my fellow writers here all the very best in their writing journey. I hopetheir books find publishers and fly up the charts!’
Everyone applauds enthusiastically, and I sit down in ahappy daze. Turning round to thank everyone, I glimpse Logan Mackay standing atthe back of the room, grinning and clapping as hard as everyone else. Weexchange a secret smile and my heart does a funny little dance in my chest.
There’s a glass of fizz afterwards and we all mill around,chatting for a while, and so many people come over to congratulate me, I feelquite overwhelmed.
At last, people start to leave. I stay chatting to one ofthe other shortlisters, a girl called Jenny who writes thrillers, and when shesays her lift is waiting, I leave at the same time.
My heart leaps to see Logan in reception.
‘Congratulations! How are you feeling?’ he asks, walkingstraight over.
‘Incredible. I have to do a radio interview.’
‘I know. Are you nervous?’
I grin. ‘About the interview? Amazingly not. Just reallyexcited.’
