Page 22 of Coming Home to Roseford Villas
‘I can’t believe she’s here!’ Rory whispered to Leo as they took their seats once again. ‘All these years I’ve so desperately wanted to hear her speak, and she’s right in front of me.’
Leo smiled down at her, and Rory’s heart did a little flip in her chest. He looked, in his white T-shirt and dark shorts, like the perfect hero of a summer romance, and she felt the attraction growing stronger, the more time she spent with him. Wrenching her gaze from Leo’s eyes back to Shona, who was about to begin her talk, Rory glanced at Stella, who was as excited as she was to be in the presence of such greatness. She was sure she didn’t miss the crooked eyebrow and the glance in Leo’s direction that Stella made, as well. Perhaps Rory’s attraction to Leo wasn’t quite as well disguised as she’d hoped.
‘It’s so wonderful to be here,’ Shona Simmonds began, in that precise, clipped King’s English voice that Rory had heard so many times in interviews. ‘I can’t tell you how delighted I am that so many of you have made the journey to see me today.’
A flutter of spontaneous applause greeted this opener, and Shona looked around and gave an all-encompassing smile to her audience. Then, she consulted the iPad she’d brought with her. ‘As you know, I don’t often give interviews, or do events any more, but when my old friend Margaret Treloar asked me to be here to celebrate the second year of the Roseford Literary and Arts Festival, I couldn’t refuse. Margaret and I go back years, you see, and while she ended up bagging the lord of the manor, I was fortunate enough to marry his best friend, my dear, much missed Laurence.’
‘I never knew Simon’s mum was friendly with Shona Simmonds!’ Stella whispered. ‘He kept that one under his hat.’
‘Oh, you know Simon,’ Lizzie Warner whispered back from Stella’s other side. Rory hadn’t noticed her arrive, but she’dtaken a seat just after Simon had started his introduction. ‘He’s got zero idea about popular culture, or at least, he hadn’t until he set up RoseFest. He mentioned “Aunt Shona” to me a while back and then the penny dropped.’
Rory had one ear on Shona’s talk and one ear on the conversation happening by her side.
‘Rory, Lizzie, Lizzie, Rory,’ Stella said quickly. ‘Proper intros later, after Shona.’
‘It’s OK, we met in the archives!’ Lizzie grinned. ‘Nice to see you again, Rory.’
Rory smiled at Lizzie, and they both turned back to the armchair where Shona was sitting.
‘After fifty novels and numerous short stories, you’d think I’d be more than happy to offer you the benefit of my so-called expertise,’ Shona was saying, ‘but, to be honest, when I started out it was as a way of paying the bills. I was rather broke, you see, and when someone, the editor for the local newspaper, in fact, told me I could write, then I just decided I would.’
Oh, how times had changed, Rory thought. But she appreciated Shona’s lack of pretension. In fact, as the interviewer probed a little deeper, it became clear that Shona was a mine of information, and, sometimes, barely concealed frustration about how women writers were often seen as lesser to their male counterparts. In a wide-ranging discussion over the next hour that covered her ‘bonkbuster’ years in the 1980s to the rather more sedate output of the turn of the twenty-first century and beyond, Rory found herself hanging on every last word.
An hour flew by, and then it was time to open questions to the floor. Did she dare ask her question, Rory thought, or should she just stay quiet? Suddenly, all the imposter syndrome she’d been feeling since she’d arrived in Roseford came rushing back to her, pouring over her like molten lava. Weirdly, asLeo sat quietly beside her, she realised she didn’t just feel like an imposter because she was calling herself a writer: she was beginning to feel like a stranger to her own life, too. Everything she thought she’d known two weeks ago had changed, and she felt swept up by it all. A new ‘identity’ as an author, a fledgling relationship with Leo and a whole new set of emotions about both of those things seemed to have taken her a long way away from the person she’d been before the holiday started.
‘Yes? The woman in the third row in the striped top?’
Rory flushed as she realised she still had her hand up. The interviewer looked quizzically at her. ‘Did you have a question for Shona?’
Rory opened her mouth and then shut it again. ‘Sorry,’ she said swiftly. ‘I’ve completely forgotten what I was going to ask.’ Mortified, she sank down in her seat. She felt the comforting presence of Leo’s hand squeezing her own as her heart thudded uncomfortably in her chest, but it didn’t quite assuage the embarrassment.
As she listened carefully to the questions that followed, and tried her best to take in the answers Shona was giving, she realised that Leo’s hand was still holding hers. She relished its warmth for a while longer, until, finally, and with a trace of regret, she moved it to give Shona a last round of applause.
‘Well,’ Stella said as the audience stopped clapping and some of them began to move out of their seats, ‘I never thought I’d learn so much in an hour. Shona Simmonds is truly one of the greats, isn’t she?’
Rory nodded. ‘I just wish I hadn’t looked like such an idiot when I forgot my question.’
Stella gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘It happens to the best of us. You should have heard my first words to Finn Sanderson when Lucy introduced me to him!’ She stood up, and, obviously noticing that Rory was still downcast, added, ‘Look, Simon’sinvited me to have some tea and cake with Shona now she’s done her talk. Why don’t you join us? I’m sure she’d be delighted to speak to you.’ She glanced over at Leo. ‘And I’m sure she’d be more than happy if your, er, friend came along, too.’
Rory felt a surge of excitement. A personal audience with Shona – that was beyond her wildest dreams! Rapidly, she agreed, before turning to Leo. ‘Are you OK coming with me?’ She felt as though she needed the moral support.
‘Sure.’ Leo smiled, and Rory felt a tingle of a different kind as he did. ‘I’d be intrigued to hear a little more from her, too. Maybe I’ll get to ask her aboutBoundaries of Desire!’
They got up from their seats and followed Lizzie through the archway that led to Simon’s private rooms in Roseford Hall. Rory couldn’t wait to see what else Shona might reveal over a cup of tea.
25
Shona Simmonds did not disappoint. As Rory sipped tea from an exquisite bone china cup and tucked into a delectable slice of carrot cake, baked by Simon’s mother Margaret, who also now graced the gathering with her presence, Shona continued to talk as though she had an audience, albeit a far smaller one. She’d had a long and fascinating career as a novelist and regaled them with off-the-record tales of the rich and libidinous, some of which had made it, heavily disguised of course, into her novels. A writer of the romantic old school, she’d made her living and then some selling romantic ideals to readers, and now lived comfortably off the proceeds of her labours. As Rory listened, enraptured, she finally plucked up the courage to ask Shona what her best piece of advice would be for a novelist starting out.
‘Darling,’ Shona replied in the genteel tones that were almost as much of a trademark as the novels themselves, ‘you must set out to give the reader what they want. But remember, if you don’t want it, the reader won’t either. So, make it matter.’
Rory nodded. The good, but vague advice made sense. ‘Thank you,’ she stammered. ‘I’ll try.’
‘Make the reader a part of your world,’ Shona continued. ‘Don’t try to speak in anyone else’s voice. If you love your characters, readers will love them, too.’ She paused mischievously. ‘Except for the ones who don’t, and never will, of course, but there’s always five or six of them!’ Laughing quietly, she sipped her tea.
‘To be honest, I’m not sure this idea will even get off the drawing board,’ Rory admitted, ‘but I’m having fun finding out.’
‘That’s half the battle,’ Shona replied. ‘My first novel was an act of pure self-indulgence and was rejected by sixteen publishers before it found its rightful home.’ She raised an eyebrow speculatively at Rory. ‘And the other half of the battle is learning to live with rejection!’
