All we have, p.19
All We Have, page 19
“But Meg,” I cut into her explanation, hoping my voice didn’t reflect the turmoil of my thoughts. “I thought you’d already committed all your time to your own writing this summer? Won’t diverting onto working on Tamara put you behind schedule on that front?”
“Yes, it would impact quite a lot.” Meg looked torn. “I’d really have to keep my nose to the grindstone to meet my publisher’s deadline for it. But Bill’s publisher is really keen for Tamara to be the jewel in the crown of their re-issue of all his novels. If I say I won’t do this, I think Bill is likely to pull the plug on Tamara altogether.”
“But surely the re-issue will go ahead regardless?” I persisted. Dan was looking from one to the other of us like he was watching a nail-biting Wimbledon final. I wished he’d stop. It was kind of distracting.
“Well, I assume so,” Meg said, “but I know from experience that Bill stands to get a lot more publicity out of the whole thing if he has a new novel to release at the same time, especially an early novel like Tamara. His readers are very loyal, they’ll snap up anything with his name on it as soon as it hits the shelf. And if he wants to attract new readers then an entirely new novel by him is the way to do it. It’s bound to get reviewed by all the big publications that way. A straight re-issue won’t attract anything like the same critical attention from the literary press.”
I knew I had to think fast to convince Meg the re-write was not going to be a good idea, for her or for Bill. I tried to come up with some convincing negative outcomes that would put her off the idea for good, but my brain seemed to have switched to slug mode, which for me is often a precursor to panic mode, which was now becoming fully engaged as well. She’d already said she could manage the extra workload. What else could I throw at her? I could try spinning her the old neglecting-your-niece-whose-come-all-this-way-to-spend-time-with-you line, but somehow now she’d seen me with Dan I didn’t think that was going to fly. Maybe if I could come up with a selection of some other artistic collaborations that had failed miserably? I wracked my brains trying to think of even one.
“But it won’t be,” Dan said slowly, bringing my thought processes skidding to a halt. Could he be any more ambiguous if he tried? I looked at him in exasperation.
“Won’t be what?” Meg asked, looking as confused as I felt.
“Won’t be a new Bill Mawson novel,” he explained. “Your name will have to be on it, if you’ve re-written it to any extent.”
“Yes, that’s right,” I chimed in now, seeing where Dan was going with this. Why hadn’t I thought of that? “Otherwise it would be plagiarism. My English teacher told me about this guy that chopped big bits out of other people’s work and put them straight into his new novel without any acknowledgement. His publisher ended up having to recall all the books from every bookshop everywhere in the world. It completely ruined his literary reputation.” I added, in case Meg was missing that vital point.
“I recall the case,” Meg said with a smile. “I must admit it’s reassuring to hear you are listening in English class, at least some of the time Paige.” She grinned at me and I realized my parents must have shared with her the unnecessarily acerbic comment about my listening skills, or lack thereof, my snarky English teacher had written in my latest school report. Entirely without cause, I might add. “Of course my name would need to be on any re-write. And you’re right, Bill and I have not discussed that aspect in any detail. But that doesn’t worry me at all, Bill would have no problem acknowledging someone else’s work.” She said this last bit firmly, as if she would entertain no argument on this aspect of Bill’s personality.
“Sounds like you’re leaning towards doing the re-write,” I said.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Meg prevaricated. “As you point out, it’s not something I can decide without thinking through all possible impacts, including the ones you’ve raised.” I wondered what other impacts she’d thought of.
“Well, I’d be interested to know what you decide to do, Meg,” Dan said quietly. He got up, putting his coffee mug down on the table. “I’ll have to get going now, I’ve got some chores waiting for me that I can’t put off any longer.”
“Do you?” I asked. What chores, I wondered. He hadn’t said anything earlier.
“Yeah, I do,” he said firmly. “Walk me out to the road?”
“Sure,” I said, getting up and putting my mug down next to his.
“I’ll probably head back to my study now, Paige.” Meg looked at me guiltily. “I hope you don’t mind spending a couple of hours on your own? See you around dinner time?”
“That’s fine, Aunt,” I said, recognizing her distracted look as the one she always wore when she was desperate to get back to her writing. “I’ll catch up on some more study, then I can sort dinner for us – for say around 7:30?”
“Perfect!” Meg smiled her gratitude at me, and waggled her fingers at Dan. “See you again soon Dan, I hope.”
“Sure,” he said in the direction of her retreating back.
I laughed. “When she’s in the mood to write, there’s not much gets in her way,” I said ruefully.
“I can see that,” Dan agreed. “I just hope she means it when she says she’s undecided on what to do about Bill’s request.” His tone was deadly serious. “She can’t be allowed to even start on that re-write. Not now, not ever.”
I knew why I didn’t want Tamara’s character re-written, and acknowledged freely, at least to myself, it was purely for selfish reasons. I didn’t want Dan suddenly confronted with a new, improved Tamara. I was hoping for a repeat of the kiss we’d shared at the river. The last thing I wanted was Tamara messing things up for us. But what was Dan so worked up about? He didn’t leave me wondering for long.
“We have to work out a way to convince Meg to give up on the idea,” he said determinedly as we walked towards the road. “She can’t be allowed to change Tamara.”
“The whole idea really upsets you, doesn’t it?”
“Of course it upsets me,” he said incredulously, rounding on me. “I suppose you wouldn’t you be upset if it were happening to one of your friends?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm.
“Ok, whoa now. You need to back this truck up a-ways, buster,” I returned, feeling my own temper starting to rise. A great kisser he might be, but that didn’t give him the right to start using anything like that tone with me. “This book character stuff is all new to me, you know that. If you want to take the time to explain to me what’s going on, and what exactly it is that you’re so worried about happening, and can keep a civil tongue in your head while you do so, then I’m willing to listen. If not,” I shrugged. “Well, you can walk your own damn self to the road.” I stopped dead at this point, looking at him challengingly.
For a split second, Dan looked taken aback. At first I thought he was going to stalk off and leave me standing there alone but he surprised me by grabbing my hand. He pulled me into a bear hug, pressing his hands against my back as he held me tightly against him. “God, Paige, I’m so sorry. You’re right, I sounded like a jerk.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, my voice muffled against his shirt. “You did.” He let me go then, his hands clamped on my upper arms as he held me away from him, his eyes filling up with pain.
“I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I can’t expect you to understand, I mean why would you?” He asked thin air, releasing me and twisting away from, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
Feeling ever so slightly patronized by this last comment, I managed to let it go on the grounds he was obviously stressed out about something in this situation. “You could try explaining it to me,” I replied evenly, putting my hand on his arm. He looked down at it, then up at me again.
He sighed. “Ok, you’re right. Explaining to you how it all works might help me to see a way out of this....this mess.” He waved his hand about wildly as if the mess encompassed the whole world, and I wondered if he included me in that definition of his current situation. My thoughts must have shown on my face, because he immediately took my hand. “Oh, hey, I don’t mean you and me. No way. That’s not even close to a mess....I mean,” he stumbled on his words then stopped, taking a deep breath. His eyes were serious as they looked into mine “I mean you’re amazing and wonderful and I want to be with you all the time and that is definitely NOT part of any kind of mess, unless you consider any of that messy?”
“Not messy, no,” I laughed in relief, and was rewarded when I saw some of the tension drain from his face. “Confusing sometimes, yes,” I said. “Exciting, definitely,” I added softly, feeling the blush rise in my face as I spoke. I’d never been this bold about my feelings with anyone before. Or since, I might add. It felt scary and liberating at the same time. I smiled at him and was rewarded when some of the worry receded from his eyes.
“I’d rather be spending my time getting to know you better,” he said quietly, “than worrying about Tamara.”
“That’s okay then,” I replied, grinning inanely at him in delight. “But you sound really worried. Please, just tell me what the problem is with Meg’s rewrite plans.”
“Okay, well, I’ve already explained how characters are created, right?”
“Umm yeah,” I said, “something along the lines of when they are read for the first time they come to life?”
“Right,” he nodded. “So Tamara the character came into existence at the same time I did, when Bill wrote his first novel and submitted it to a publisher for consideration. That publisher was our first reader.”
“So you’re worried if Meg re-writes Tamara’s character,” I began slowly, “she’ll change and become someone different. Different from the character Bill originally created, and that has since evolved into the Tamara we know.”
“Oh no, although that would be bad enough but no, it’s worse than that. Much worse,” Dan said grimly. “If Meg agrees to re-write Tamara’s character, then the Tamara we know won’t change a bit. Because as soon as someone reads Meg’s new version, the Tamara we know will be superseded.”
“You can’t mean...” I was aghast as what he was saying. “She’s not going to die? You said that only happened if a book ceased to exist.”
“No, she won’t die.” He shook his head. “But another Tamara will be created. A Tamara Mark II if you will,” Dan looked sick at the thought. “It doesn’t happen often, usually all major re-writes are done before the author gives their manuscript to anyone else to read. And then sometimes minor characters, like Edward Darcy, get taken out altogether. Effectively they’re made redundant from their own story. Which is pretty tough, because they never quite fit in with the other characters from that narrative again after that,” Dan added sadly. “But for characters like me and Tamara and Ferg,” he continued, “although our story was never published, we are all still central characters within the narrative.”
“But a re-write would mean a new Tamara, as well as an old one,” I breathed as what he was saying became all too dreadfully clear to me. “But that’s.....awful!” I tried to imagine what it would feel like to have a clone of yourself turn up or worse, someone who was a close copy of you but who was actually designed to be better than you. More compassionate, more likeable. More loveable.
I couldn’t help thinking what this might mean for my barely-off-the-ground relationship with Dan. It was worse than I’d thought. Not only would I have to contend with a more loveable Tamara, one Dan was thus more likely to develop romantic feelings towards but I’d still have to put up with the old Tamara as well. And she really didn’t like me. I was convinced of that much.
“I’ve only seen it happen once before.” Dan continued on, shuddering at the remembrance. “It was devastating for all the characters in the story, but the effects on the character who was re-created like that were...” he paused, his eyes blank with remembered pain. “Well, ultimately he was driven mad.” He stared at the ground, his eyes screwed up as if searching for something there that was small and difficult to see.
“But....that’s awful!” I felt immediately ashamed of myself. My first concern had been about how a new Tamara might affect my relationship with Dan. I hadn’t liked the way Tamara had acted towards me since I’d met her. But, if I was fair about it, wouldn’t I have felt just as threatened by me, if I’d been in her situation? And no matter how chilly her attitude towards me, no-one deserved to be driven mad by some uber-clone sent to out do you in you-ness. It was utterly obscene. “We can’t let that happen to Tamara!”
“If Meg decides she’s going to go ahead with the re-write, we might not be able to stop it,” Dan said bleakly. He looked back at me then. “Listen, I know you and Tamara haven’t exactly hit it off, but do you think you might be able to help? Can you influence Meg’s decision on this?” There was a note of desperation in his voice.
“I can try,” I said, laying my hand flat against his cheek. “I’ll do anything I can to stop her doing this thing, I promise.”
“Thanks” He swallowed hard, struggling to summon a semblance of a smile. “Hey, have I told you lately you’re amazing?”
“No, I don’t believe you have,” I returned, smiling up at him. “Will it take long to tell me?”
“Probably longer than I’ve got right now.” He flashed me a slightly more well-formed shadow of his usual wide grin. “I need to get home. There are some people I need to talk to, people who hopefully might just be able to help.” Placing his hand over mine he lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss into my palm before pulling me into a hug that nearly squeezed all the air out of my lungs. “I might not be back for a while. There may be quite a bit of travel required to try and sort this out.” His voice was muffled in my hair.
My heart plummeted at high velocity towards my feet at the thought of not seeing him. “How long do you think you might need to be away?” I pulled away a little to look at his face. He looked worried.
“A few days,” he guessed, “maybe a week.”
“Ok, well at least that gives me plenty of time to concentrate on getting Meg to shelve the whole idea,” I said brightly, exhibiting more confidence in my influence with Meg than was strictly warranted. I knew from past experience that, once Meg decided to do something, it was nigh on impossible to dissuade her from her chosen path. But I’d have to try.
“I guess this is where we say goodbye for a bit, then,” I added, trying to sound okay with that idea and failing dismally. I tried to look everywhere but at Dan then, feeling so stupid that tears were welling at the backs of my eyes. For crying out loud, the guy was only going to be away for a few days! And, I told myself, we’d only kissed for the first time that day, it wasn’t like we’d been seeing each other for weeks or anything. With a jolt I realized that, for me at least, it felt like we’d been friends for a lot longer than that. When Helen left on vacation, to go spend time with her dad, I never felt like this. I knew I’d miss her, but I didn’t ever feel like she was taking a part of me with her. That was how I felt now. As if, when Dan left, a part of me would go with him, or at least would be incapacitated in some way, until he came back. Which was utterly ridiculous, I told myself, and the way silly girls in romance novels acted and not at all the way I’d ever act. I sniffed, fighting to hold back the tears so they didn’t spill down my cheeks. I look awful when I cry, which made me even more determined not to break.
Dan hadn’t said anything. Then his hands were on my shoulders, and I allowed him to turn me to face him, although I couldn’t bring myself to look at him as I was petrified I’d burst into tears. When I continued to avoid his gaze, he gently lifted my chin with one hand until he could see my eyes. “I’ll miss you too,” he said simply. And then he was kissing me, and I wrapped my arms around him and held him tight, not wanting to let him go.
Eventually, though, I allowed my arms to loosen and Dan pulled back. He grinned at me that same wide, wicked grin he’d had on his face the day we’d met outside the schoolhouse. And then he turned and walked away from me. I stood watching him until he disappeared around the bend heading for the schoolhouse, then turned and ran back up the driveway to the house. As I ran everything I’d learned about the characters and their world played through my mind, and as I reached the house I realized that there was another outcome of the publication of Tamara that hadn’t occurred to me until this moment. One that was every bit as much of a threat to my newly flourishing relationship with Dan as any new improved Tamara would be.
Chapter fifteen
Reaching the house, I collapsed onto one of the chairs on the veranda in a panting mess. Resting my forehead on the table I waited for my breathing to slow to normal again, trying to recall everything Dan had ever said to me about best sellers, the books that were reprinted over and over and then read by thousands or even millions. At the party, when I’d met Edward Darcy, I remembered Dan had said something about him having nothing much to do, that his removal from Austen’s classic tale of misperception meant he had acres of time on his hands to play baccarat, or partake of any other time-wasting occupation his little heart desired. The glimpse I’d had of Harry Potter wolfing down hot dogs at the party and then disappearing had seemed bizarre at the time, but later when Dan had explained how the character’s in popular books had to spend more time engaged in…what had he called it? I tried to remember how he had explained. It had sounded a bit like a job, one where the hours of work were determined by the popularity of your text. How odd that the best-known characters in my world were the least seen ones in Dan’s.
