Lexington: Anatomy of a Novel Ch 62-63

 

 

Chapter 62

Boston, Massachusetts

February

“I DON’T BELIEVE it,” Florence DuBois said to Daphne Andrews. They were talking on Facebook Messenger. Daphne sat at her dressing table/desk. Her bed was covered with completed artwork for the comic book. It had been printed double size for easier final editing.

Florence had left the pages yesterday. “It may be useless, and we’ll have to publish them ourselves. I thought Jason might be interested, but we haven’t heard a peep from him, and he hasn’t answered my e-mails or taken my phone calls. And the marketing meeting he talked about has never happened.” She sighed, “I thought we were better friends than that. At least he could have had the guts to tell me our work sucks.”

Daphne couldn’t help but smile at her friend’s combination of American slang mixed with her slight French accent. “From everything I’ve heard,” she’d said, “getting published is harder than creating the book.”

Although she tried to imagine Gareth coughing up the money for self-publishing, she couldn’t. He absolutely refused to even discuss the project.

In one fight that they had had, he had forbidden her to work on it and to even see Florence unless it was an official diplomatic event. Gareth and Yves DuBois had played squash twice and both times he’d come home furious. Yves had bragged about his wife’s work and how lucky she was to find a partner like Daphne.

Gareth had taken her laptop and locked it in the storeroom closet. Daphne found it necessary to finally tell Florence about Gareth’s attitude.

“Con, prick,” Florence had said. She had told Yves, who after hearing the problems Daphne was having, had other commitments when Gareth tried to make a squash date. Since Gareth had little free time, he wasn’t all that upset.

What Gareth didn’t know, there were duplicate keys to the storeroom. Each day when Daphne was sure he was safely from the house, she would retrieve her laptop. Her alternative was to use Boston Public Library computers which needed a reservation and there was a 90-minute limit. However, she had made friends with two of the staff, who let her extend the period if no one else needed the computer.

“I’m trying to be a 1950s wife and have everything perfect when my husband comes home,” she’d said to Gareth’s secretary one day when she’d gone to the embassy to have lunch with him. He’d gone to the men’s room. “Maybe you might tell me when he leaves?”

“I usually leave first, but I will when I can.” She flashed a conspiratorial smile.

“Thanks, it’s a newlywed thing, too,” Daphne had winked.

Daphne didn’t feel like a romantic newlywed. She felt like a woman who made a huge mistake in marrying.

When he had locked up her laptop, she had suggested counselling. He said that if she were more obedient, there wouldn’t be a problem.

The word “obedient” had been the proverbial broken-backed camel from the one straw too many. Instead of continuing the fight, Daphne had said, “I’ll try harder.” What she didn’t say was, “I’ll try harder, until I find my way out of this mess.”

One of the mistakes that Daphne realized that she had made, was that she really hadn’t known that much about his childhood other than he was unhappy at boarding school. When she’d met his mother, she felt the need to put on a coat, hat and gloves to survive the cold.

Her childhood overall had been happy. Her parents were contentedly married, if not happily. They supported whatever she wanted to do or didn’t want. They were in the habit of giving the pros and cons of any of her ideas, then let her decide. She suspected sometimes their tongues might have been shortened rather than say, “I told you so.” She still had not indicated to them that anything was wrong.

Where she had rejected showing up on their doorstep earlier, she now thought that would be the best way. Gareth had canceled her credit cards. At the time, it bothered her, but she hadn’t said anything. She’d had three. She gave him the two he knew about. She wasn’t about to comply and leave herself stranded financially.

The bank account was in his name only. He had upped her allowance to $100 a week. It had made her feel like a child. Still, much to her annoyance at herself, she said nothing. It was a good thing that local merchants still accepted cash.

Over the last few months, she had managed to save close to $1,500. The idea of arriving at her parents without any money bothered her. Already she’d begun looking for jobs in Edinburgh.

Academia, such as the Universities of Edinburgh, Glasgow or St. Andrews had openings, but she wasn’t sure if her experience would qualify her to look up crime statistics in different countries or women’s laws in China. Perhaps she could combine it with more study. Dr. Daphne … she liked the sound of that.

She had started to mail her CV to anything and everything with a cover letter using her parents’ address. At some point, she had better warn her parents.

She had quickly discovered when she checked flight schedules and prices, when she went back a second time to book, the prices had gone up. Shit!

“Are you still there?” Florence’s voice brought Daphne back to her bedroom on Comm Ave. in Boston.

“I’m here. What can’t you believe?”

“Jason FINALLY got back to me. And it’s good.”

“What did he say.”

“It took him a while to convince senior management, but they will publish us.”

“You’re joking.”

“I am not. They want it to be the beginning of a series, all with twins who participate in different historic events. You will write it. I will do the graphics.”

Daphne was unable to respond for a full minute before gasping out, “How many? For what events? How much will they pay?

“At first he wanted to bring us on staff. The problem is visas, but they are willing to try. If that does not work, we will be freelancers.”

Daphne took a deep breath. “I’m going back to Scotland.”

“Merde!” There was silence. “We can still do it. You can research and write from Scotland. I can work from here. Maybe we can get them to give you a travel budget if we have to visit the places, but with the internet …”

Daphne wasn’t sure that the money would be equivalent to a full-time post, but it would be something. Florence was gushing about the libraries and schools that already were customers of the publisher, that would guarantee certain sales. “We need to negotiate a lot of things. Yves already has spoken to a lawyer for us. Or maybe we need an agent. The thing is they could be used for years to come.”

Maybe they could make it work, Daphne thought.

“I’m sorry. You said you were going to go back to Scotland?”

“Yes, I’m leaving Gareth.”

“Good. If you need to stay here temporarily, you are welcome to.”

Her first impulse was to say, “That would be too much of an imposition,” but what she said was, “If you’re sure, when?”

“Anytime.”

“You may want to check with Yves.”

“I’ll message you back.”

Daphne sat, not sure what to do. She got up and went to the toilet. Her period had started. Well at least she didn’t have to worry about being pregnant. When she returned to her laptop there was a message, “Yves says welcome as long as you need to. He also said congratulations on writing the comic book. Now when?”

“If you really mean it, Gareth has to go to D.C. Tuesday next.”

“As soon as he’s gone, I’ll come over, help you pack.” 

Chapter 63

Geneva, Switzerland

Whew! I’ve wound up Daphne and Florence. Their success in finding a publisher was much easier than reality, although it does happen as it did for Robert B. Parker and Ian Rankin whose first novels were snapped up. Mary Higgins Clark’s daughter probably didn’t have any problems getting published. Florence had an industry contact which made it possible.

Just because they have a publisher doesn’t mean instant success. Both women would have visa problems if they went to work for the publisher full time. Educational publishing is not a lucrative field for the writers. The credential of the comic book, maybe, would help Daphne to find a job back in Scotland, but I won’t follow her that far. I just want to leave the possibility that things might work out for her.

My husband has started reading the manuscript. He is in Dallas visiting his daughter and family. I hadn’t told him about the Anatomy part of the novel, he just knew about the historic and current plots. At first he was confused, but then decided he liked it.

I also heard back from Ranger Jim with dates of arrival in Boston for James’ ship. The name of the ship is still missing. I think I’ve enough information about the type of ship he would have been on and combined with the dates of arrival, it will ring true.

I am coming to the final part of the novel, the actual battle.

My husband is worried that to write about it will leave me too sad. We already know what will happen to James. He would prefer I wait for his return in eight days. He knows how real my characters become to me.