April? Well, this is January, and February and March are still to pass. I’m pretty sure I can write a seven-hundred-word article by then without giving myself carpal tunnel syndrome orRSI.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she continues as if she’s reading my mind. ‘April is ages away. Except in magazine land, it’s not. We bring our April edition out mid-to-late March. And yes, I know you think that mid-to-late March is, what, nine weeks away?’
I nod.
‘You’d be right on one level, but the thing is, we like to get the magazine planned and the freelance features all to bed around six weeks before publication. We keep certain pages for closer to deadline, obviously, but your copy? We’d need that sooner rather than later.’
‘That won’t be a problem,’ I tell her, knowing that I have several sample columns already drafted beyond those I’ve sent to her already. There’s bound to be something among that which will be suitable.
‘Great!’ Grace claps her hands together. ‘That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Now, before we get down to talking money and the like, I want to run one more thing past you. I think it could be right up your street, but it is a bit out there.’
12
GIRLS’ TRIP
Becca
Girls, would you both be free to pop round to mine tonight? Or even on your way home from work? Or we could meet at Caffè Nero for a quick coffee and chat? I have news! And a favour to ask.
Niamh
An excuse to stay away from home for an extra hour and possibly avoid having to make three different dinners to appease my ungrateful brood? Sounds like heaven to me!
Laura
What time? I’m at the dentist with Robyn and then I’ve to meet Conal at Mum’s to sign yet more paperwork. *sad face*
Becca
What time works for you, L?
Laura
Six gives me time to drop Robyn home first. Does that work?
Niamh
It’s good for me. But I’m going to tell Paul that we’re meeting at five. I’ll treat myself to a hot chocolate and an hour reading my book in peace before you get there.
Becca
Perfect! I’ll see you all at six.
Laura
Is everything okay? The meeting with Grace?
Becca
Well, that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.
Parking close to Caffè Nero, I really hope I can get the girls on board with what Grace and I discussed. I think it could really be good for them. I know it could be good for me. Or at least I think it would be. And if not, then at least we’ll be able to tell ourselves that at least we stepped – nay, jumped – outside of our collective comfort zone.
It’s not often an opportunity like this comes along and I can’t help but feel that this is fate in some way. Perhaps Kitty O’Hagan weaving her magical spell from the afterlife and looking after us in the way she always had. Maybe I can pitch it to them that way?
Pushing open the door, I’m greeted with a rush of coffee-scented warm air and the chatter of customers catching up with friends. It’s surprisingly busy for six o’clock on a Tuesday night in January and it takes me a moment to spot Niamh, curled onto a soft armchair, looking down at her book. She looks completely at ease – amid the hissing of the coffee machine, clatter of cups on saucers and hubbub of conversation. Then again, I suppose she is used to the non-stop noise of a school environment. Silence might be a bit overwhelming. I’m just about to start walking across the café to her when the door opens behind me, bringing with it a rush of cold and a semi-frozen Laura.
‘That is not a nice evening,’ she says, shivering before pulling me into a quick hug. Niamh has spotted us and is waving for us to join her. I mime bringing a cup to my mouth and raise an eyebrow in the universal sign language for ‘Do you want another drink?’ and she mouths ‘Hot chocolate’ in an exaggerated fashion. It’s probably a good thing. My increasingly shoddy eyesight means I need everything to be large and in my face. How I wish for the days I could take my glasses off long enough to lose them – and not have to panic about it.
