‘We have!’ said the art director. ‘Bastian actually had the original idea for this. He sent us the birthday card you did for him. We were very impressed.’
‘And of course we know all about the drawings you did of the petroglyph,’ went on Michael Masters.
‘We felt that the drawings really added something, and as you can add a bit of colour, we think the end result would be delightful,’ the art director said. ‘It would be almost a coffee-table book, something you’d flick through and think, I’ll go there!’
Cass cleared her throat. ‘Well, I have images of what I’ve been doing lately. Mostly it’s been paintings of bunches of flowers – not really bouquets – as presents. My mother picks the flowers and makes them look gift-worthy and then I paint them. The picture is a permanent version of the flowers which by their nature are transient.’
She was quite proud of this phrase. She opened the document and handed her laptop across the table.
‘These are charming!’ said Michael Masters.
‘Just the sort of thing we’d be looking for,’ said the art director. ‘You might need a bit of landscape to go behind the pictures of the flowers—’
Cass retrieved her laptop. ‘Here are some landscapes I painted from photographs, of where my father lives. And I’ve worked up some of my sketches of Dominica into paintings. They should give you an idea—’
‘These are perfect,’ said the art director. ‘We’d loveto take you on as our illustrator. Don’t you think, Michael?
‘We’ll pay for your fare to Dominica – of course you’ll have to go. And we’ll pay you a fee, of course. It won’t be huge but—’
Cass interrupted. ‘It sounds wonderful, I must admit. But – sorry to lower the tone – will these books sell enough to make you money?’
‘We think so,’ said Michael. ‘The thing is, the same trust who donated the money for the prize that Bastian won wants to promote tourism in Dominica and thinks a book like this will help. They will also help with costs, publicity, distribution, all the expensive stuff.’
‘That’s brilliant!’ said Cass. ‘Even if the fee isn’t huge, I get a trip to Dominica out of it.’
‘Bastian is very much looking forward to working with you on this,’ said Michael. ‘In fact, he was so determined he told us it had to be you or no one.’
Cass bit her lip. ‘What would you have done if you’d hated my work?’
‘We already knew we weren’t going to,’ said the art director. ‘Now, shall we go to lunch? There’s a delightful little Greek restaurant just nearby.’
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Cass left Hennings in an Uber that was paid for by the company. Cass was aware she’d had a little bit too much to drink but didn’t care. It had all gone brilliantly, and for a few hours, Ranulph had only popped into her mind a few times. Maybe she was getting over him? Maybe the trip to Dominica would finish the job?
She called in at a little Waitrose in Paddington for Cava and snacks. She knew Rosa and Susie would want to celebrate.
And they did! They opened the Cava immediately and in spite of Cass’s insistence that she’d had at least two large glasses of wine at lunch, poured her another one.
‘And you’ve got my favourite crisps!’ said Rosa. ‘How did you know I loved these?’
‘Because I’ve known you since we were ten?’ said Cass, with an upward inflection.
‘Oh, OK. I suppose we do know those things about each other,’ Rosa conceded.
‘We’ve booked somewhere lovely for supper,’ said Susie. ‘Just us. It’s a bar really, but the food is great.’
‘I’ve been there with Susie before,’ said Rosa. ‘It’squite edgy. The sort of place our mothers would think we shouldn’t go to.’
‘Sounds perfect,’ said Cass.
‘Our table’s not until later,’ said Susie. ‘Now, tell us again what went on with your publishers?’
‘My publishers! I can’t believe it!’ said Cass.
‘So grown up,’ said Rosa.
‘How much are they paying you and have you got an agent?’ asked Susie, suddenly businesslike.
