‘Well, that and the subject matter. I mean, it wouldn’t be great for work, for instance, if everyone knew I was writing that stuff. It’s not the sort of thing you’d want your boss to know about. I also thought it would be best if people couldn’t trace me. You come across some very strange people on the internet, especially with the sort of stuff I write about.’
‘Yeah, I can imagine.’ He nodded. ‘You probably get some real weirdos.’
She laughed. ‘Half of them think I should be consigned to Hell, and the other half want a bunk-up.’
Mark frowned. ‘Well, I suppose that would be a consideration, too, in deciding if you want to be identified as the author.’
They were interrupted by the arrival of their starters.
‘You must’ve told some people about the blog,’ Mark said, as they began eating.
‘Only one – a friend. None of my family know about it.’
‘They don’t know about your blog or about your, er… personal life?’
‘They don’t know any of it. I’m not sure how I’d feel about them finding out.’
‘Do you think they’d be shocked?’
‘Well… yes, probably.’ She was actually less worried that they’d be horrified than that they’d die laughing and call her on it. They could even expose her as a fraud if they wanted to. Her mother would probably love the whole thing, and be enormously proud. But Michelle would be livid – and jealous. Like Claire, she was a writer who dreamt of being a published author, and she always had something snide to say when someone else got a book deal. She would hate Claire getting there before her, and Claire wouldn’t put it past her to blow the whistle out of spite. She could be pretty poisonous. Of course, none of the family could know for sure that she wasn’t living a double life as a sex bomb with a string of secret lovers. It wasn’t as if she would share it with them if it were true. But somehow she thought they’d have a damn good idea that she’d made it all up. And how pathetic would she look then?
‘Do you think it would be possible to keep it a secret?’ she asked.
‘Well, obviously some people would have to know. But we could keep the circle as small as possible, and get everyone to sign non-disclosure agreements. What about the men?’ he asked.
‘The men?’
‘The men you write about – Mr Bump and Grind, Mr Curious, Mr Fussy, all that lot.’
‘Oh, them.’
‘I know you use fake names, but is there a chance that any of them would recognise themselves?’
‘I really don’t think they’d cause problems.’ Mainly because they don’t exist.
‘Still, if you go public and you’re on television or in the newspapers, it wouldn’t be hard for someone you’d been with to put two and two together.’
‘True,’ she said, deciding it would be as good an excuse as any if she decided she wanted to remain anonymous.
‘It’s something to think about anyway. You don’t have to decide anything right now. And if we do publish anonymously, you can always decide to go public further down the line, if you want. It could even give the book a second bite of the cherry when the initial publicity has died down.’
By the time their starters were cleared, the champagne bottle was empty, and they ordered some red wine.
‘So, tell me a bit about yourself, Claire,’ Mark said, when their main courses had been served.
‘Like what?’
‘Anything. I know absolutely nothing about you – except for the explicit details of your sex life, of course.’ He grinned.
She smiled ruefully, the champagne buzz overriding her shyness. ‘Well, let’s see. I’m twenty-eight, the youngest in my family. I have two older brothers, both married with kids. I have a degree in English literature. I work in a bookshop – an independent.’
‘But you’d like to write full-time?’
‘I’d love to.’
‘Well, hopefully we can make that happen.’ He smiled. ‘Do you write other stuff?’
‘Yes, I write fiction. I’m working on a young adult novel at the moment.’
