A Ladder to the Sky(64)

There was a knock on the door and you poked your head in. This was only the second time you’d visited my office since our arrival in Norwich and you looked ridiculously cheerful as you glanced from me to George and back again.

‘Not interrupting, am I?’ you asked, stepping inside. ‘Hello, George, how’s things?’

‘Maurice,’ he said, standing up and shaking your hand furiously. ‘No, we were just finishing up. I was telling Edith that, even if she does have to apply for the job, I think I could say, without prejudice, that her application will be favourably received.’

I saw the expression on your face harden as you digested this piece of information. Of course, I hadn’t yet spoken to you about staying on at UEA and had no idea how you might feel about it. But you didn’t pursue the conversation and, when George finally let go of your hand, you leaned down to kiss me on the cheek with a ‘Hello, gorgeous’ that was completely out of character for you.

‘Hello yourself,’ I said. ‘What brings you here?’

‘Some good news,’ you replied.

‘Perhaps I should leave you both to it,’ said George, edging towards the door.

‘No, stay,’ I said, for in that moment I felt as if I didn’t want to be left alone with you, when you might ask me what we had been discussing before you arrived. ‘There were a couple of other things I wanted to talk to you about.’

‘All right,’ he replied, sitting down again, and I could see that you looked as irritated by his continued presence as he was made uncomfortable by it.

‘So what’s the good news?’ I asked, looking in your direction and trying to ease whatever tension lay between us.

‘It’s about my novel,’ you said.

‘You haven’t finished it!’

‘No, not quite. But I wanted to be certain that I was on the right track so I sent the opening few chapters to someone in the industry.’

‘Who?’ I asked.

‘Peter Wills-Bouche,’ you replied.

‘The agent?’ said George, looking up, clearly impressed. Everyone knew who Peter Wills-Bouche was. To be represented by him was to be considered part of literature’s elite, whether you were a Nobel Prize-winner – he represented three – or a debut writer.

‘I’m glad you sent it, Maurice,’ I said. ‘He’s exactly the sort of agent you deserve. But I imagine it will be a while before you hear back from him so let’s not get too excited just yet.’

‘But that’s the thing,’ you replied. ‘He phoned this morning, just after I got back from the gym. He wants to meet me.’

‘You mean he’s read it already?’

‘He said that he took it home with him last night, only intending to read a few pages, but ended up showing up two hours late for his daughter-in-law’s birthday party because he couldn’t put it down.’

‘You’re kidding!’ I said, opening my eyes wide in a mixture of astonishment and delight.

‘He said that these were the best opening chapters of any novel that he’d read in the last ten years.’

‘But Maurice, that’s wonderful,’ I said, jumping up to embrace you, feeling genuinely thrilled on your behalf. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

‘Thank you,’ you replied, grinning from ear to ear.

‘Yes, well done, you,’ said George, standing up and shaking your hand again. ‘You must be thrilled.’

‘I knew that one day you’d find your way back,’ I said. ‘I’ve always believed in you, you know that, don’t you?’

‘I do, Edith,’ you said, and the warmth in your expression made me recall the happiest times of our years together. ‘And I appreciate it, I really do. You’ve been the one person who’s always believed in me. Even when I haven’t always believed in myself.’

I smiled. When you shone your light on me, it was still impossible not to feel the wonderful glow. ‘So presumably he’s going to take you on, then?’

‘Well, I assume so, yes, but let’s not count our chickens just yet. That’s why I called in here. I’m taking the train up to London in about an hour to meet with him. He said he’d like to meet today, before I show it to anyone else. I’ll know more after that.’

‘Gosh, he is keen!’ I said.

‘Seems like it.’

‘Maybe we’ll even end up publishing our books around the same time,’ I said. ‘That would be fun, wouldn’t it?’

‘Oh God, let’s not,’ you said, rolling your eyes. ‘No, we should wait to see what’s happening with my book first and then you can have a word with your publisher to ensure that our dates don’t clash. Makes more sense that way, don’t you think?’

‘Well,’ I replied, feeling my heart sink a little. I’d been working on my novel for three years, after all, and didn’t want to delay its publication for any reason. Also, I didn’t see why your work should suddenly take priority over mine. ‘I’m not sure, but we can always—’

‘I’d better go,’ you said, glancing at your watch. ‘I don’t want to miss my train. I just wanted to see the expression on your face when I told you!’

‘Maybe we should be asking you to apply for a job here,’ said George, and I glared at him in disappointment. ‘It’s a real asset to the university when we have up-and-coming writers in our faculty.’