[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
these are her spare keys.
I ll see what I can do, Josh, but don t expect miracles. There s just one
thing I d like from you.
Anything.
Lay off the NCD, hey?
I ll give DI Copperfield my full support.
That wasn tprecisely what Jack had in mind, but to say so would have sounded
disloyal, so he gave Josh a half smile, passed him his empty glass and went to
find Madeleine. He caught her eye across the crowded room, and she beckoned
him to her.
I want you to meet Mr. Attery-Squash, my publisher. He s on our side, so
play nice, sweetheart.
She steered him toward a large, friendly-looking man who seemed to be trying
to avoid the many unpublished writers who milled around him like bees to a
honeypot, hoping to be discovered. Attery-Squash was a sprightly octogenarian
Page 58
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
with a center part in his white hair and a matching beard decorated with a
single red ribbon. He wore a suit in large checks of decidedly dubious taste
and had a jolly red face that reminded Jack of Santa Claus. He had run
Crumpetty Tree Publishing since he bought it from QuangTech in the sixties,
and was reputed to be one of the few people who knew the Quangle-Wangle
personally.
Hello, Mr. Spratt, said Attery-Squash kindly, good to finally meet you. We
were just discussingReading by Night . Do you like it?
I love all Madeleine s work, but no one seems to want to buy photographic
books these days.
Mr. Attery-Squash took a sip from his champagne.
Publishing photography is a tricky game, Mr. Spratt. Much as I love
Madeleine s work, I d be a whole lot happier if she d start concentrating on
the bread and butter of the photography world celebrities misbehaving
themselves and kittens in beer mugs.
Kittens in beer mugs? echoed Jack.
Yes, continued Attery-Squash, eager to get Jack on board and somehow sway
Madeleine away from her doubtlessly artistic but wholly unprofitable images,
babies with spaghetti on their heads, ducklings snuggling up to kittens.
That s where thereal money is that and puppies, lambs and calves shot with a
wide-angle lens to give them big noses and make them look cuter, and
chimpanzees dressed up as humans sitting on the toilet.
Babies with spaghetti on their heads? said Jack, thinking of a typical
mealtime with Stevie. Sounds like you might have something there.
He nudged Madeleine, who said, Yes, I ve often considered spreading my
creative wings. I thought swans during sunset might be a good idea, too.
Mr. Ottery-Squish? inquired a young man dressed in a faded sports jacket
and a necktie that looked as though it would have been better tied by his
mother.
Attery-Squash smiled politely, despite the interruption.
Yes?
My name s Klopotnik. Wendell Klopotnik. I have a novel that I ve just
written, and I ve chosenyou to publish it for me.
That s very kind of you, replied Attery-Squash, winking at Madeleine.
I have a résumé somewhere, Klopotnik muttered, rummaging through his
pockets. It s calledProving a Point a psychological thriller set in an
all-night bakery.
Jack and Madeleine excused themselves and walked off to find their table.
What did Hatchett want? whispered Madeleine as they threaded their way
through the crowded ballroom.
Help. His sister s gone AWOL.
I hope you told him to get lost.
Page 59
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
On the contrary. Politically it could be a good move. I ll make a few
inquiries and see what I can dig up metaphorically speaking, of course.
She shook her head and smiled at him. Jack rarely bore a grudge. It was one
of his better features.
They sat down at their table, and Jack introduced himself to his neighbor, a
shabby-looking individual named Nigel Huxtable. He was, it transpired, another
Armitage Shanks finalist, and he jumped when Jack spoke, as he had been trying
to hide two bread rolls in his jacket pocket.
So what s your book about? asked Jack brightly.
It s calledRegrets Out of Oswestry , he said, fixing Jack with an
intelligent gaze that was marred only by a slight squint. It traces one
woman s odyssey as she returns to the place of her childhood in order to
reappraise the relationship with her father and perhaps reconcile herself with
him before he dies of cancer.
Jack frowned. Didn t you submit that book to the competition last year?
Huxtable looked hurt. No.
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]