Amy and Philippa agreed to share a bottle of rosé and some fizzy water, settling into a comfortable conversation as they waited for the first of their seven mini dishes to appear.
Having finishedAnd So We Meet Againlast night, Amy had already started another of Philippa’s books– a contemporary romcom this time,Katie McGough Starts Over– and she was able to share her genuine enthusiasm for these novels, as well as chat with the author in depth about plotting, settings and characters.
As she tapped her Kindle screen yesterday evening to award Lady Sarah and Thomas’s tale a five-star rating, Amy had reconciled herself to her affection for Philippa’s novels on the basis that, if you were so minded, you could enjoy a J. R. R. Tolkien book without actuallybelievingin hobbits. Surely, she reasoned, the same could be said of true love.
‘So, tell me about you,’ Philippa said, during a lull between their menu’s savoury and sweet courses. ‘Carolyn’s sung your praises– probably louder than I’ve ever heard her crow. But she says you normally work on literary fiction.’
‘That’s right,’ Amy said. ‘This role is a bit of a departure for me, but it came along at an opportune time and I’m confident I have something unique to bring to it. I was very happy to be considered.’
‘Sounds like there’s a story there, chick,’ Philippa winked.
Amy grimaced, forgetting to keep her poker face in place.
‘It was something to do with a man, I assume. You needed to make a sharp exit?’ Philippa pressed on, her green, almost feline eyes narrowed inquisitively.
‘Something like that,’ Amy said, not too keen on elaborating. ‘It was rather awkward and Carolyn was excellent about it.’
Desperate to avoid any mention of the Hugh disaster, Amy proceeded to explain– without blowing her own trumpettooloudly– the work she’d done with a range of impressive authors Philippa had heard of. She confessed she was new to commercial fiction, but stressed her experience with positioning books so as to make their publication compelling news events that the media might pick up.
‘She knows a bright spark when she sees one, does Carolyn. Always did,’ Philippa smiled. ‘I hear she’s left organising some big launch event for the imprint in your capable hands.’
Amy stifled a moan at this. She had a few potential sponsors, and speakers, but still no venue– and she and Carolyn had a catch-up call scheduled for next Thursday, during which her boss would surely demand a progress report.
‘Thank you, that’s kind of you to say,’ Amy said to Philippa, trying to shrug off the dread that descended on her each time she thought about the party she was supposed to be hosting. ‘I’m intrigued, though … How is it that you and Carolyn know one another?’
‘Oh,’ Philippa laughed, ‘has she not told you? Bless her, she’s probably trying to spare my blushes.’
‘No …?’ Amy said, sensing she might soon regret having asked this question.
‘We have an ex-husband in common,’ Philippa said mildly. Amy almost choked on a mouthful of sparkling Acqua Panna.
‘I married her first husband after she split up with him. It was aslightlymessy business, but not too acrimonious– Carolyn had met someone else anyway when I took up with Harry. Our paths crossed a few times afterwards because we moved in similar circles … We were both young and working in PR in London back then. Once I got to know her, it wasn’t too long before I realised I liked Carolyn more than the bloke I’d married, ha ha!’
Amy could feel that her eyes had grown cartoonishly round, but she said nothing and nodded sagely– as if what Philippa was describing was a perfectly standard situation.
‘He and I were divorced within the year,’ Philippa went on. She said ‘year’ to rhyme with ‘her’.
‘When I told Carolyn I’d left him, she said she wasn’t surprised. She said, “Philippa– he thought he was getting a sweet young Stepford wife with you because he didn’t reckon on the brains beneath the blonde hair, boobs and Brummie accent.” She was absolutely right.Anyway, we’ve been good friends ever since. She’s been on at me for a few years to come on board at H-K– ever since my books really started selling. I told her she had to find me the right editor first.’
Amy gulped now, fully realising the pressure Carolyn had put her under.
‘Don’t look so worried, bab,’ Philippa said as two portions of strawberry mousse with freshly made shortbread appeared on the table. ‘I think you and I are going to get on famously. Anything you don’t know about romance, I can teach you … Though for what it’s worth, I can spot a tender heart at fifty paces– and you, my dear, are the proud owner of one.’
Amy shook her head as they tucked into their tiny ramekins.
‘Honestly,’ she said, ‘it would be a thrill to work with you if you do choose to sign with us– but in my personal life, I’m …’ She thought back to what Kit had said in his kitchen on the afternoon of what she privately called The Balloon Disaster. ‘Well. I’m known as a bit of an ice queen.’
‘Nonsense,’ Philippa said with authority. ‘You just haven’t found the right man to thaw you out.’
Philippa winked at her again, and Amy’s inability to find an appropriate response was conveniently covered by the arrival of a waitress bearing a silver tray with coffee, petits fours and the lunch bill, which she discreetly handed to Amy.
‘Trust me,’ Philippa said, smiling confidently as she took a cocoa-dusted truffle from the plate before them. ‘The ending to your love story’s nowhere near written yet.’
Chapter 12
On Sunday morning Amy made her way to the village cafe for brunch with Nisha. She felt weirdly jumpy– a little as though she were going on a first date and wanted to make a good impression.
She needn’t have worried. Nisha sauntered in a moment after Amy had arrived, waving as she approached the table. She was wearing a wide, sincere smile, bright pink lipstick and a rainbow cardigan so twee it made Amy’s teeth hurt. This woman was so unabashedlyherselfthat it was almost intimidating– or it would have been if she weren’t so sunny and unassuming.
