‘Make it two,’ Matilda said to the spiky-haired man.
‘Please,’ Liv added on her behalf.
They sat down on low pink stools that had cow udders underneath.
‘So, what’s this about?’ Matilda said.
Liv sipped the khaki concoction and picked out something stringy from between her teeth. ‘Essie wants me to do some of her admin work, and I don’t know where to start,’ she said vaguely.
Matilda tossed her hair. ‘Well, hello, can’tMedusatell you that?’
Liv wished she wouldn’t use that name for Essie. ‘She’s working away,’ she said, thinking the excuse sounded more plausible each time she used it.
‘Really?She hardly ever leaves that flat. When she does, it’s like some kind of top-secret mission. Have you noticed she vanishes? It’s pretty obvious why.’ Matilda tipped a pretend glass to her lips.
Redness mottled Liv’s cheeks. ‘Do you know where she goes to?’
‘I didn’t have the chance to find out before…’ Matilda sliced a finger across her own neck. ‘If you want my advice, make sure you leave work on time, before she hits the gin. I stayed late one night andMedusastarted droning on about the only man she ever loved. She claimed she couldn’t finish writing her book without him. Totally pitiful.’
‘Who is he?’ Liv said, intrigued.
‘Don’t know, don’t care.’ Matilda performed a fake yawn and fanned her mouth. ‘Have you seen those huge bouquets of white roses she gets? What man would be crazy enough to send them to her?’
‘Did she ever mention the name Anthony?’
‘No.’ Matilda frowned. ‘Who?’
Liv pursed her lips, not wanting to mention Essie had a solicitor. It would be nice to think she had someone special in her life, to hold her hand in her final hours.
‘Did you knowMedusawouldn’t read my boyfriend’s manuscript and give him feedback?’ Matilda carried on. ‘He worked on it for two whole years.’
‘Reading a book takes me around eight hours,’ Liv said, her mind still on Essie’s mystery man. ‘It’s a big commitment.’
Matilda gave her a withering look. ‘She owns all these gorgeous designer clothes, yet wouldn’t lend me anything to wear to a wedding. And sherefusedto give me a reference when I left.’
‘What kind of things did you do for her?’ Liv prompted.
Matilda eyed her for a while. ‘Promise me a reference from her, if I tell you.’
‘Ican’tdo that…’
Matilda tossed her head and folded her arms.
Liv’s temples began to pound. She was sure yesterday’s champagne was still running in her bloodstream. ‘Okay, okay,’ she relented.
Setting down her smoothie glass, Matilda counted on her fingers. ‘I dideverything. I answered her fan correspondence, and fought off all the requests for free books. Most readers are darlings, so sweet, but there’s always some scroungers…’ She sighed dramatically. ‘And there’s this guy who mails her weird things. Watch out for him.’
Liv shivered. ‘What things?’
‘Strange poems, and he once made her a blanket out of his cat’s hair.’
‘That sounds… warm.’
Matilda continued. ‘I handled her Facebook, Twitter and Insta. She actually made mewritethe instructions down in a file. Totally Neanderthal.
‘Then, there’s all the stuff she gets asked to do. Can she open a school fete, or run a writing workshop, or present certificates to students, or sit on a literature festival writing panel? All in exchange for a cup of tea and a Kit Kat.
‘Publishers and other authors always want her to read their books and write blurbs. You know,This is masterful storytellingkind of stuff, and I ended up doing it. I handled some of her financial admin, too, like trade subscriptions and expenses. And I sometimes wrote her answers to interview questions. It was so embarrassing to keep making excuses when she refused to do them.’
