Page 4 of One Last Thing
Like a fool.
Michael, however, isn’t wordless. He feels the need to speak once more.
‘I don’t know if this helps,’ he begins cautiously, his bright eyes gleaming at me, ‘but my mum wanted me to tell you that shelovesyou. She read all your books at my age.’
***
There’s something incredibly satisfying about exhaling a plume of smoke. I don’t like smoking –I can’tstandthe smell –and I really shouldn’t be going near a cigarette but there are times in one’s life when it’s necessary to forget about health for a moment.
This is one of those times.
‘This isn’t the end, you know,’ Brandon says, putting his hands in his pockets as he waits with me on the pavement.
‘Oh, fuck off, Brandon,’ I say wearily, taking another drag.
My hand is shaking. I lower it quickly, hit by a wave of frustration and fear.
‘I’m only trying to help,’ he mumbles.
‘Then don’t be twat about it.’
He can’t fight a smile. ‘All right, then.’ He allows a dramatic pause. ‘It’s bullshit.’
‘To put it plainly.’
‘Are you upset about it?’
‘Do I look upset about it?’
‘You’re smoking again.’ He shrugs. ‘So, yes.’
‘I’m not smokingagain,’ I protest, seeing fit to glare at him. ‘That makes it sound like I quit and then took it back up.’
‘Haven’t you?’
I tip my head back and marvel at the smoke drifting from my mouth.
‘No,’ I tell him curtly. ‘And I’m not upset.’ I point my cigarette in the direction of the restaurant in which we were just sitting before I stormed out. ‘I’ve made that publisher an awful lot of money over the years.’
‘I know.’
‘Maybe not in recent years. But theHeartlodgetrilogy practically saved them when it was first published! All threebestsellers, then a film. I mean for Christ’s sake, I know it was a while ago, but—’ I quickly take a drag so I can blink back the tears. ‘Oh, fuck it. What did he mean by a shift in market trend?’
Brandon shrugs.
‘Romance is huge.Huge. I see it everywhere. And yes, it looks a little different now, but it’s still romance. Mystylewas the problem, he said. What does that mean? I know you know. You spoke to him before you came to join me out here. Come on, what did he say?’
‘Nothing remotely of interest.’
I flick the ash onto the street. ‘Tell me, Brandon.’
‘You met him. He doesn’t know much and he conveys even less.’
‘What did he say?’
Brandon looks me dead in the eye and, heaving a sigh, reluctantly answers. ‘He said that it might be worth you considering a genre more suitable for your . . . target audience.’
My mouth has gone dry. ‘He was saying that I . . . shouldn’t write romance at all? What, because I’m in myfifties. . . and so are my readers? Isthatwhat he was saying?’
