Page 65 of The Midnight Book Club
Aurelia followed him.She watched absentmindedly as he walked out of the shop, crossed the street, and turned to wave at her before continuing through the square.It’s possible she waved back, but she couldn’t be sure.She locked the door and walked back to her desk, eyeing the battered manuscript before piling a few papers and books on top.It was still under there, but somehow, she felt better having it out of sight.
Walking toward the spiral staircase to head upstairs for her nap, she paused with her foot on the first step before looking back at her desk with a sigh.There was no way she’d be able to sleep without seeing the full extent of his notes.She turned back and excavated the manuscript, then went upstairs to start sorting through them.
38
“So,youandOlivermet to discuss your book.How goes it?”James asked her over lunch the next day.
Aurelia had woken up that morning with a headache and the idea that it might be worth checking in with James to get his take on Oliver and his many notes.
She’d eventually read through all his suggestions and had to admit that most of them were pretty good.Even so, she couldn’t decide if he just wanted something he could put his name to, whether or not it would be anything like her writing style.She’d decided to wait before diving into the edits with Vronsky so that she could feel James out on what to do next.
“Um, it’s going,” Aurelia said uncertainly.
“Lots of edits?”he asked wickedly.
“Yes!”she exclaimed.
“Annoyingly excited about tearing apart your work?”
“Yes!”
“That’s Oliver to a T,” James laughed.“How are you holding up?”
“Just alright, honestly.Some of his edits are really good.But the quantity is… a lot.And some of the notes…”
“He’s very enthusiastic about his work, especially when he sees something he likes,” James explained.“This is just his process.But you should speak up if—when—you disagree,” he added with a laugh.“I’m not worried about you speaking your mind, it’s more whether Oliver gives you a chance to get a word in before you run screaming from the room.”
“I have no problem pushing back, especially now that I’ve gotten over the shock of his delivery.”She paused.“But he’s good, James?He’ll make the book better?Not just… something that will sell?”
“He’s great, Aurelia,” James said soberly.“I’ve seen him do fantastic work.Actually, you should read some of the things he’s edited.Have you heard of Marie Hanson?He worked on her latest book and it’s been very well-received.”
“Her name’s familiar, but no—I haven’t read anything of hers.”
“Well, you should take a look.It still has Marie’s distinctive style, but I recognize Oliver’s hand and know he helped make it better.”
They finished their lunch and, after thanking James for the pep talk, Aurelia stopped by a small bookshop on the way back to her own.She’d been a regular there since her university days, picking up newer books that weren’t stocked in her shop.The owner, an older man, had become a friend since she took over from Marigold and had helped her find her footing as a business owner.His shop was newer than hers but still had the aura of an independent bookseller’s that made Aurelia feel as though she were home.After catching up with the owner, she found and bought the book James had mentioned, then went back to her own shop.
She’d hoped for a quiet afternoon to get through it, but customers kept her busy.When five o’clock rolled around, she closed up and went to her flat to make a quick dinner and read a chapter or two before her nap.
James was right—the bookwasgood.Aurelia became so absorbed in the story that she got through dinner and two cups of tea before realizing it was nearly ten o’clock and she’d missed her window for a long nap.With a sigh, she looked from her book to the stairs that led to the shop.She wanted to finish the book and give herself time to think about whether she should move forward with Oliver or look for someone new.And maybe, she thought guiltily, it might even be nice to get a normal night’s sleep.The characters would wonder where she was but they’d agreed a few weeks ago, after she’d missed her alarm two nights in a row, not to worry if she didn’t come down.
Aurelia put her nose back in the book and fell asleep just before midnight, waking up at eight o’clock the next morning with the book spread open next to her and the bedside lamp still on.As she shook off sleep, she realized she must have drifted off while reading.It used to be a fairly common thing, but she hadn’t had much time to read for fun lately.
Turning out the light, she wandered into the kitchen to make tea and finish the last few pages of the book.It held up; from start to finish, it was a wonderful read.When she reached the end, she re-read the last paragraph, not quite ready to put it down just yet.
Just as James had predicted, Aurelia now felt better about letting Oliver take on her own book, even with his exuberant edits and notes.She also had to remind herself that, while she wanted to feel some ownership over the novel since it would be the first book of hers to be published, the goal was to have something to put on the table so that Vronsky’s future would no longer be an endless train ride of grief.Writing the story had been a group effort, she reasoned, so why should editing it be any different?
39
Vronskydidn’tseemtoappreciate that finding a willing publisher was a stroke of luck.When Aurelia told him about Oliver later that night, he took it as a matter of course that someone wanted to publish his life story.
After reading through Oliver’s notes on her own, Aurelia had made a plan to tell Vronsky about him and to introduce his notes one at a time.She would get a read on Vronsky’s reaction to each one before she moved on to the next.Then, if he approved of Oliver’s major suggestions, they could start flipping through the manuscript to review his other notes.Aurelia almost laughed when she realized she’d landed on the same approach Oliver had used with her.
Once she and Vronsky were sitting at her desk, she shared Oliver’s first note, about how long it took to get him from Russia, to Italy, and then to France.
Vronsky listened carefully, then said, “It may have been important for you and I to understand exactly what happened, but readers may prefer a condensed account of my travels.The real focus, as we know now, will be my life in France, therefore I agree with this Oliver.Let us cut to the chase, as they say.”
“I guess that’s true.Readers don’t necessarily need to know every step you took to get to France.”
