Page 16 of The Plot Twist

And what an amazing meet-cute that would have been if Allie had been even remotely attracted to Tom. But she wasn’t. And the feeling was mutual. Which was fine because it turned out that when Allie introduced them to each other in a pub a few nights later, Tom and Jess couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Allie had left them to it after the second drink, preferring to go home and watch Netflix, rather than the sex show that was unfolding in front of her eyes. And now here they were, six years later and married for the past three.

Allie had been both bridesmaid and best man at their wedding, which had confused Tom’s terribly traditional parents, but as his brother couldn’t set foot in the country at that time due to some legal mix-up, which Tom didn’t want to go into and Allie was happy not to explore as it brought up memories of traumatic childhood incidents, there wasn’t an obvious alternative to best man. And so Allie had stood in on the understanding that she have complete creative control over what she wore. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jess’s taste, which was usually impeccable. But Allie knew what happened to women when they planned a wedding and quite often taste and perspective were thrown to the winds.

‘Will he be here later?’ Allie asked.

Jess shrugged. ‘Not sure. Last night he didn’t get home till after nine and I don’t know about the night before because I was already asleep.’

Allie looked at her watch again and thought that the chances of her still standing in three hours’ time were pretty slim if Jess was going to keep topping her glass up.

‘So what’s the goss with Verity then? Have you met Richard yet?’ Jess didn’t really know Verity, but Allie talked about her editor a lot and Jess had become strangely invested in this new relationship of hers.

‘Nope, not yet. She’s stopped suggesting it. Probably because I haven’t sent her a book yet.’

‘Ha! So she’s mad at you then?’

‘No.’ Allie paused. ‘It’s not that exactly, although she’d have every right to be mad. She seemed quite hyper last night to be honest. Desperate to read anything I could send her and terrified of her new boss.’

‘Sounds like an excellent combination.’ Jess grinned. ‘Big question being, have you gotanythingat all you can send her?’

Allie shook her head. ‘Nope, nada.’

‘Not a rehash of an earlier idea? Not something you can find in the back of that distressingly tatty notebook you still use?’

Allie shook her head again. She paused and then said, her voice wobbling slightly, ‘Jess, what if I can’t write anymore?’

Jess looked surprised. ‘Come on, of course you’ll write again,’ she said encouragingly, reaching out and rubbing Allie’s arm. ‘Remember with your second book where you didn’t write anything for two whole months?’

‘Yes, but then it all came pouring out and I wrote the whole first draft in a few weeks. And it’s different, then I had the plot, I just didn’t know how to write it. Now I have no plot and I haven’t written anything in months.’ Allie took a long swig of her wine.

Jess grimaced. ‘OK, not good, I get it. So let’s make a plan? I really think you should tell Verity. It’s no good hiding from her and secretly panicking.’ Jess had a worried expression on her face.

‘I did promise that I would email her with my plot outline this week.’

Jess looked confused. ‘I thought you said…’

‘Exactly, no plot to send!’ Allie spread her empty hands out in front of her. She groaned. ‘I know, you’re right. I will tell her. I’ll do it at our meeting, face to face.’ She looked at Jess for reassurance.

‘That’s good! Definitely talk to her, face to face. She’s on your side, remember, we all are.’ Jess looked pleased to have solved the crisis. ‘Shall we get another one?’ She waved the now empty bottle at Allie who grimaced slightly, feeling the sour wine settling hard in her stomach.

‘Can we get some food first?’

‘Do we have to?’ Jess looked reluctantly round at the fast-filling pub. ‘We have a table here, and seats?’ She looked imploringly at Allie. ‘Aren’t those better than food?’

Allie rolled her eyes. ‘And not having a hangover is better than having one. Especially when I need to write tomorrow.’

Jess pouted. ‘But how will Tom know where to find us?’

‘Jess’ snapped Allie, ‘we have these things called mobile phones.’ She picked hers up off the table and waggled it in Jess’s face. ‘And anyway, you said yourself he probably won’t make it. Come on, please?’ Allie’s voice took on a plaintive tone. ‘I need to write tomorrow, I can’t do that with a hangover.’

‘It sounds like you can’t write at all at the moment, hungover or not.’

‘Hey! Not fair.’ Allie was genuinely hurt and Jess, clearly realising she had probably overplayed her hand and admitting defeat, sighed and picked her coat up from the back of her chair, huffing and puffing as she did so.

‘You’ll thank me tomorrow,’ Allie said smugly as they made their way to the door. Jess didn’t look convinced as she glanced sadly back over her shoulder to see their table immediately swarmed by drinkers in desperate need of a seat.

ChapterFour

Allie sat nervously in the glass-roofed atrium of the Brinkman’s building and tried not to bite her nails. She’d been here before, of course, but not without a book in her metaphorical back pocket. For several days Allie had been dutifully getting up at the crack of dawn, turning her phone off, disconnecting the wifi and trying to write.

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