Jill Mansell - Chapter 1

Oh God.

Lola said helpfully, ‘You’ll have to lift her in and out of the bath.’

Fat chance of that.

‘No you won’t,’ Sally hurriedly chipped in before he could say anything about cranes. ‘I can still manage a shower.’

‘So long as you don’t fall over.’ Lola winked as she held open the door for Sally to go through.

Gabe winced as one of the aluminium crutches clunked against the door frame. ‘Look, wouldn’t it be easier to go and stay with your mother? Then she could look after you.’

Crash went the other crutch against the skirting board as Sally lurched inside. ‘Whoops, these are tricky things to get the hang of.’

Gabe took a deep breath. ‘The thing is, I’m going to be out working a lot of the time.’

‘But if I went to my mother’s house I’d be on my own all the time.’ Over her shoulder Sally said,

‘Because she and Philip are off on holiday tomorrow. So that wouldn’t be very good, would it?’

There was a crash as she stumbled into the coffee table, sending flying the cups and plates she hadn’t cleared away earlier. With a sigh of relief she lowered herself onto the sofa and stretched out across it, propping her leg up on a couple of cushions. ‘There, that’s better. All comfy now.

Ooh, I’d love a cup of tea.’

Chapter 32.

Sometimes a name simply didn’t register on your personal radar but it turned out that everyone else knew at once who it belonged to. Such was the case with EJ Mack, whom Lola had never heard of. But when his publishers had announced that he’d be available during the third week of January for signing sessions, everyone else at Kingsley’s had got as over-excited as if Al Pacino had offered to turn up.

‘But how can you know who he is?’ Bemused, Lola had studied the publisher’s press release.

‘He’s only a music producer.’

Cheryl,Tim and Darren had exchanged despairing looks. ‘He’s huge: said Darren. ‘He’s worked with everyone who’s anyone.’

‘And he’s so brilliant, all his female artists get crushes on him,’ Cheryl chimed in with relish.

‘He’s very discreet but I bet he’s slept with loads of them.’

‘Fine, we’ll let him come here then.’ Still unconvinced, Lola said, ‘But it’ll still be your fault if nobody turns up.’

It was always embarrassing when that happened. Watching the poor authors’ faces fall as they sat there behind their teetering piles of books, gradually realising that not one single person was going to come along and buy one. Their smiles faltered;sometimes they pretended they’d never wanted to sell any copies of their book anyway. Other times they feigned illness and escaped early. On one memorable occasion an author had reacted particularly badly, launching into a major temper tantrum and flinging his greatest rival’s books all across the shop.

Anyhow, it didn’t seem as if this was a problem they were likely to encounter tonight with EJ

Mack. Loads of customers had been thrilled to discover he was coming to Kingsley’s. As Lola unloaded boxes of his books and arranged them in spiral towers around the signing table, people were already starting to gather in the shop. Too cool to form an orderly queue but not cool enough to turn up at seven thirty, which was when EJ Mack was scheduled to arrive.

And he wasn’t even good-looking, according to Cheryl. Turning over one of the hardbacks, Lola scrutinised the arty, grainy black and white portrait that gave away hardly anything at all.The face was averted from the camera and further obscured by the brim of some weird trilby-style hat.

Oh well, he’d be here soon. Hopefully to sign two hundred copies of his book in double-quick time so they could all be home by nine thirty. OK, maybe not home by nine thirty on a Friday night if you were a super-successful uber-cool cutting-edge music producer, but definitely if you were a knackered bookshop manager with a drastically empty stomach and hot achy feet.

‘He’s here!’ squealed Cheryl twenty minutes later.

Lola scanned the crowded shop, absolutely none the wiser. ‘Where?’

‘That’s him, the one in the blue anorak.’

Oh good grief, how could anyone be cutting-edge in a turquoise anorak?

Then her gaze stuttered to a halt and her eyes locked with those of EJ Mack.

‘God, man, this is wicked,’ gushed Darren, appearing out of nowhere. ‘Look at him, he’s so brilliant.’

Tim, next to him, breathed enviously, ‘And he’s slept with some of the most beautiful women on the planet.’

Lola opened her mouth but no sound came out. Flanked by his publisher’s balding rep and blonde PR girl, EJ Mack approached them.

‘Well, this is a coincidence.’ Smiling, he stuck out his hand. ‘Who’d have thought we’d be bumping into each other again? How’s your partner?’

Lola tried her best to come up with an answer. Tim, keen to bridge a potentially awkward silence, leapt in with, ‘Hi, I’m Tim! She doesn’t have a partner.’

‘God, sorry.You mean you broke up? What’s going to happen with the baby?’

Funny how someone could look like a geeky speccy accountant-type one minute and not quite so geeky and accountanty the next, even if he was still wearing spectacles and that bizarre anorak.

Although now that she knew who he was, Lola could see that the silver-rimmed rectangular spectacles were probably trendy in an ironic postmodern kind of way.

‘It’s all going to be fine,’ she told EJ Mack.

‘Baby?’ Cheryl stared in disbelief at Lola’s stomach. ‘What baby?’

EJ Mack gave her a speculative look.

Right,’ Lola said hurriedly. ‘Let’s get this show on the road, shall we? Can I take your coat? And welcome to Kingsley’s! You’ve got lots of fans queuing up to meet you! And can I just say how much I enjoyed your book ...’

‘That’s very kind.’ EJ Mack slowly removed his anorak and passed it over to her. ‘Which chapter did you like best?’

‘Oh, um ... all of them.’

‘So that means you haven’t read it.’

‘Sorry, no, but I definitely will.’ Lola blinked as someone took a photograph. ‘Can I get you a drink? Coffee, water, anything else?’

Did my publisher not send you my list of needs? Bourbon biscuits,’ E J Mack said gravely.

‘Peeled grapes. And a bottle of Jack Daniels.’

Cheryl was still frowning. ‘What baby?’

The signing session had been a great success. In the music world EJ was a 31-year-old legend and devotees of his work were thrilled to have this chance to meet him. EJ in turn didn’t disappoint them, he was charming, witty and interested in talking about music. He had worked with everyone who was anyone and plenty of tonight’s book-buyers were keen for him to work with them too. By the time they’d finished, EJ had been saddled with a stack of CDs pressed upon him by starry-eyed wannabes.

‘Occupational hazard,’ he said good-naturedly

‘I’ll get you a carrier bag,’ Lola offered.

‘I’d rather have a private word, if that’s all right. In your office?’

Bum, so he hadn’t forgotten. Lola felt herself go pink, glanced awkwardly at her watch. ‘Um .. ‘

‘Just for a couple of minutes.’ Turning to the rep and the PR girl, EJ said, ‘That’s OK, isn’t it?’

‘Of course it’s OK,’ the PR girl exclaimed. ‘Take as long as you like! Take a couple of hours if you want to!’ Because being lovely to her company’s authors was her job.

The light glinted off EJ’s steel-rimmed spectacles as he smiled briefly at the enthusiastic blonde.

‘Don’t worry, a couple of minutes will be fine.’

Once inside the office Lola said, ‘OK, I’m sorry, I told a fib.’

‘More than one, at a guess.’ He leaned against the chaotic desk, counting off on his fingers. ‘The pregnant woman isn’t – never was – your partner. Was she even pregnant?’ Shamefaced, Lola said, ‘No’