‘M-my first byline might be a cover?’ I literally freeze, my eyes widening as I stare at her in disbelief. A surge of energy courses through my veins.
‘Yes. And as it’s a double, it’s the year’s biggest selling issue,’ Amanda adds, surreptitiously glancing down at her own bare hand.
This is huge. This is an opportunity of a lifetime. Way bigger than I had ever imagined. With a cover, I can approach any magazine in the city. In the world. Even Eliza still hasn’t had a cover byline. But that voice in my head speaks up. Ireland is a very long way away. Travelling by myself, can I honestly do this?
‘There is a formula that all our location writers use, if you read the magazine as you should be doing every month you will see it. Ain’t rocket science.’ Amanda is slightly condescending now.
‘No. I want to write my own way.’ At last, I sound assertive. Iamassertive. I won’t be following any guidelines, I will be writing from the heart. Truthfully and romantically. Maybe I can ask if one of the interns can accompany me? I know I’d have jumped at the chance when I was an intern.
‘Might there be an intern available to come with me?’ I have to ask.
‘No. It’s just you. Budget is tight for June as you know with the double edition. Is this a problem for you, Maggie? You can stay in the proofreading room if you’d rather. Don’t waste any more of my time.’
‘N-no.’ I shake my head. My curls tumble across my face, I pull them back behind my ears. ‘I’m in!’ False positivity rings through my voice.
‘Good. The manager at Castlemoon will be informed that you are arriving, they already know we will be featuring the castle in the magazine. But like I say, Frederick is relying on you too, it’spart of your job brief. He just wants you to keep an ear to the ground and report back if you come across anything strange or startling? It’s a huge deal! I’m super excited for him.’ Amanda is walking towards me now. She squeezes her index finger into her inflated lips again, and in a moment of unusual honesty adds, ‘Perhaps Castlemoon is the place where one day we’ll say our own I do’s.’
‘Maybe.’ I smile at her as I repeat, just to be sure, ‘So just a report of how I find the hotel?’
‘Exactly. Frederick will call you himself.’ Amanda answers with a big smile now, it’s so bright it could probably have lit up the dark room.
‘Thank you so much for trusting me with this job, Amanda.’ I step in, extend my hand to my boss. When is it? When do I have to go? It would take me many more years to work up to this; it truly is a Christmas miracle! I may not believe in fate, but that red cardinal I saw earlier did exactly as it was supposed to do if I can just hold my nerve.
‘Great! I should have added it’s a quick turnaround. I need you to produce an exceptional piece of writing, the castle photographed beautifully and it all filed on or before December twenty-fourth? The double edition goes to print in February. I need my mock-ups finalised by then.’ Amanda bends almost in half to untie her yellow sneakers.
Christmas Eve!My brain runs the dates. That’s like, less than a week away!
‘No problem!’ is what I say to my boss, though my feet are literally shaking in my ankle boots.
I’ll have to get creative. It will not leave me much time to research, write, interview, edit, get release forms signed and collect all my images. I need to start a mood board asap. My mouth goes bone dry now, but still, I cannot stop gaping at the projected castle with the huge red door.
‘Plus, I’m handing you the angle on a silver platter.’ Amanda kicks off her sneakers, holds up her phone in the gold designer branded case that probably cost more than my monthly salary, slides her finger across the screen and reads:
‘“Legend has it that marriages celebrated at Castlemoon last a lifetime. The divorce rate is practically zero. The village of Heartwell is full of happily married couples.There is a magic within the walls of Castlemoon.” Give us a sense of some of the locals who married there and have been together for fifty years or whatnot. What do they think is the secret to these marriages at the castle? Dig around. Find the magic. Do young people believe in the folklore? Then report to Frederick on all the other stuff.’ Amanda pulls open her desk drawer and hands me a large brown envelope. With a slightly shaking hand, I lean across and take it, grip it tightly.
‘How long will I be there?’ I ask keeping my tone light.
‘Five days,’ she says.
‘Okay!’ I smile brightly at her.
‘I figured you’d say yes and HR have your passport on file so Ben dropped these up from Frederick a little while ago – your travel documents, flight details, booking, hire car rental, directions and insurance. You will have to drive yourself from Dublin to Galway, Sat Nav has the Eircode. Accommodation is at the castle. Your per diem is listed there too. Here are hard copies and Phoebe will email everything to your inbox. As you leave for Ireland in less than two days, you have my permission to take the rest of the day off. Good luck. Enjoy. See you after the holidays.’ Amanda waves, glances at her vibrating Fitbit.
Less than two days? Less than two days! Tell her you’ve changed your mind, you can’t travel to Ireland and drive to Galway on your own, my brain screams. You haven’t even been outside the States since you were thirteen years old for crying out loud! My lips have gone so dry I search in my coat pocketfor my balm. My fingers find the heavy chain; I caress the sharp edge of the silver half-moon. Somehow, it soothes me.
But as terrified as I am, I still can’t take my eyes off Castlemoon.
‘I .?.?. I, okay.’ Momentarily blinded as Amanda flicks the bright office lights back up to full, I blink several times.
‘Just don’t let me down. Don’t let Frederick down either.’ Amanda sticks an earbud in and hits a button on her phone.
It appears my meeting is over.
But I have a byline, not to mention the chance of a cover story! In Ireland. In a magnificent castle. I cannot believe my luck, even if this is as far out of my comfort zone as I could ever imagine.
‘Thank you, Amanda, I won’t let you down,’ is what I hear myself say as I gather up my lookbook, but she’s already talking to someone else about her editorial calendar as I slip out of her office. Outside, Salma perches on the leather two-seater sofa beside the Nespresso coffee machine and I now know for a fact she is here in case I said no.
‘What was that about?’ She points to Amanda’s door, almost scowling.
