SIXTEEN

Dani

I can't help but watch him carefully when the acquisitions meeting resumes.

Yet if I hadn’t heard the words myself, I wouldn’t have thought anything wrong with him.

Father is dying.

He sits in the same chair he had before our break, and his shoulders are relaxed and his posture effortless. His face is sombre, though that is not too different from usual.

He seems well and truly… disinterested.

But I do not think that I imagined the way his entire body seemed to hunch together when those words were shouted out across the foyer. As though all his muscles had tensed together in order to keep himself from falling apart.

‘We have discussed your pitches and, well, it’s a rare case of jackpot because we want to go ahead with all three,’ I tilt my head to the side, how long has Christine been speaking? ‘Congratulations Dani and Malcolm, you’ve just expanded your lists.’

All thoughts of Mr. King evaporate from my mind, and suddenly I’m flooded with relief.

I have six authors now…. Six. It’s practically a list! And three of them are names I know are going to be big hits. I’ll look at gaining others once I have six completed manuscripts ready to go to print.

I’m back on the ladder, and I’m going to climb as far as I can.

The meeting wraps up quickly after that, with lots of smiles and congratulations and well-dones.

As we all file out of the meeting room, I find my eyes wandering once more to Mr. King.

He and Christine and Mark remain seated. His eyes meet mine ever-so-briefly.

Then he nods at me and says – so quietly that I don’t hear the words so much as recognize the shape of them – good job.

Life develops a strange kind of rhythm after that.

I begin to flourish at Lonely Fox, I’m attentive and meticulous and committed. I arrive every morning, earlier than everyone except Samwell himself, and he always brings me a coffee now, placing it on the table without saying a single word. I consider it his way of saying – thank you for working so early without receiving any overtime.

And I’m grateful.

In the evenings, I go home where Mae and – more often than not – Toby are waiting.

At home, my father has grown less volatile in recent days, and I wonder whether it’s because of the amount of people in the house. Whether the presence of everyone makes it feel like a family again for him – like it’s a home.

Mae for her part, stays close to Toby at all times. Accompanying him to the music store and sitting close to him at dinner.

Yet for all of the routine that we’re falling into, there are still moments where I find myself dazed and confused. My eyes go out of focus and the world around me becomes distant and hazy. I temporarily forget where I am, and occasionally I see flashes of another place in my mind.

Toby mentions that there are moments in the record store where Mae seems to vanish completely – not disappear exactly, her body remains solid and visible, but it’s as though her mind has floated away, leaving her body and expression vacant.

Then she’d blink and be returned to herself.

‘I’m not sure how long we can keep this up, Dan,’ Toby says to me one evening. ‘Mae’s no closer to going back to where she came from, that old crone witchy-lady hasn’t turned up since being all cryptic with her, and as much as I love having Mae with me, if she’s going to be here, she needs to have her own life, her own money –’

‘- Her own identification, backstory, social security number…’ I groan. ‘It’s just not that easy, Toby.’

‘Well, we have to think of something or do something differently,’ Toby says. ‘She can’t just stay here without laying down any kind of roots.’

I have to bite back a snort. ‘Yeah, cos we know so much about making roots.’

Toby frowns. ‘Don’t do that. We’re each other’s roots. You me, your dad and Elle. Who, by the way, has noticed how AWOL we are.’

I run a hand through my hair. ‘I don’t know how to send her back.’

‘How about spending time with her first?’ Toby whispers.

I can’t say anything to that, people aren’t something I have much experience with. At heart, I’m an orphan, I understand best how to be alone.

There was a time when I’d had parents – and for a brief moment, they had been my people.

At one point, I’d thought I’d had Henry. I thought – naively – that he loved me. That he was going to be my person.

How can you love me? You’ve never known love.

But there has always been Toby. Toby who knew me better than anyone. Toby who knew exactly what it was to be abandoned. I have Toby and Elle, and I have books.

Books are always there to comfort me and provide me with escape and love no matter where in the world I am.

And so, the next day I go to work as usual, doing my best to shove Toby’s words to the back of my mind.

---

Samwell places the takeaway cup in front of me.

It’s not quite 8:00 am, and I’m almost expectant of both him and the coffee’s arrival.

Normally, Samwell doesn’t acknowledge me much except to share the briefest of nods. Yet this morning, he lingers.

‘Dani, can I have a moment?’

Perplexed, I follow him into his office, making sure to leave the door open.

‘As I’m sure you are aware, the Lambert Book Fair is coming up in two weeks.’

I’m aware. Every editor, agent and rights manager in every publishing house with a fantasy imprint knows about it. I had gone every year when I worked at Magpie. I had figured that what with Lonely Fox being a smaller company, that only the three heads of department would be going. I had made my peace with it, mostly.

‘We want you to come and promote Thor’s Legacy at Lambert. We’d like you to bring the author if possible. Shake hands with as many TV rights, movie agents and booksellers as possible, see if we can get some proper shelf space in big bookstores,’ he pauses. ‘I know it’s short notice, but do you think you can come?’

Everything in my mind screams NO.

No, because Mae would have to come with me, and realistically, I can’t sneak her into the same hotel, and I sure as hell can’t afford for her to stay somewhere else.

No, because my father shouldn’t be left alone, and I can’t afford to pay for overnight nursing.

And yet, what comes out of my mouth is; ‘Yes, yes of course.’

Samwell lets out a breath and smiles.

I’m not sure I have ever seen him smile before. It’s the kind of smile that transforms a face. His eyes seem softer, less sharp, and there’s a dimple in his cheek that I would never have known was there. He looks younger… less severe.

He’s handsome, the thought races through my mind. I’d thought him handsome before, but in a scary-good-looking way that made him seem unapproachable and statue-like. Now though, he seems warm… maybe even charming.

For a moment, we simply look at each other, and I feel my skin tingle with heat.

Then his smile slips from his face – as though he’s catching himself.

‘Good,’ he says. ‘That’s very good.’

I nod in agreement. ‘Yes, very good.’

Samwell nods brusquely and then, clears his throat awkwardly. I understand that I am dismissed and haphazardly excuse myself from the room, blushing at the absurdness of whatever… this is.  

I sit down and place my cheek on the desk… letting the cool wood calm my face. Inwardly, I curse Samwell for his bone structure and then myself for having the misfortune to notice.