and going over it won’t change anything. I’m so glad to be away for a while. Except it travels with you, that sort of thing, doesn’t it? I guess it’s just good to know that he won’t be dropping in whenever he feels like it.’
‘Does he do that a lot?’
‘Less now – and goddamn him, I’m starting to miss it.’ She sighed and took another sip of wine. ‘He came yesterday, actually. I told him I’m going to change the locks and I think I should.’
Andee sat quietly watching her, and Joely felt her cheeks start to glow in the warmth of the fire. She couldn’t put into words how much she missed Callum, how wrong this break-up felt, but she was sure being left never felt right for the person it had happened to. And it would serve no purpose to talk about it, other than to keep him there in her mind, and what was the good of that?
In the end, clearly picking up on Joely’s thoughts, Andee steered them away from the subject, and said, ‘You asked if I miss being a detective. Now it’s my turn to ask if you miss being a journalist?’
Joely’s eyebrows arched as she looked down at her wine. Everything always came back to Callum, for he’d been a journalist too. Still was, in fact, although he was the co-owner these days of a highly regarded independent production company. However, he’d been a reporter once, on a paper, like her. ‘Not really,’ she replied, mentally shaking herself. ‘The job changed and not in good ways. Everything happens online now, almost no human interaction, and the paper’s new owner is much more interested in snappy celebrity chitchat or scandal than in-depth investigative reports.’ She smiled wryly. ‘I’m not into soaps, I’m afraid, and as for delving about in social media looking for stories … It wasn’t what I wanted to do.’
‘So you became a ghostwriter and you already have quite a few successes under your belt. Sportsmen, a celebrity cook, a national treasure, and now this intriguing new project.’
Enjoying the prompt, Joely stretched out her legs and let her head sink against the side wing of the sofa. It was so cosy here, felt so like home that she already wished she was staying longer. ‘And now you’re going to ask me who it is,’ she smiled.
Andee waited, her eyes filled with teasing expectation.
Joely said, ‘Please tell me you’ve heard of F.M. Donahoe.’
Andee looked impressed. ‘The writer? I have to admit I haven’t read much of his work, but there was a TV adaptation of one, wasn’t there? I remember finding that, dare I say easier than the book?’
Joely had to laugh. ‘I agree, the books are definitely cultist – and actually he’s a she, but don’t worry I wasn’t sure myself until her publisher called to sound me out about the job.’ She took another sip of wine. ‘Turns out her name is Freda, she’s a very private person and she lives just outside of Lynton and Lynmouth, so not a million miles from here. It’s actually one of the reasons I took the job, knowing it would give me the chance to see you, but I have to confess I’m curious to find out why Ms Donahoe wants a ghostwriter, given that she’s never used one before. It could be what she’s really after is some help with research. We’ll see.’
‘So is it another novel? A biography, maybe?’
‘Her publisher, Sully – Sullivan Thorpe – says she wants to write a memoir focusing on a certain period of her life. I don’t know any more than that at the moment, although it seems her aim is to right a wrong, set the record straight, reveal the truth about something that happened when she was younger. She’s invited me to stay at the house, which, to quote Sully, is amazing – better not give him a job as an estate agent – and I’ll have the use of a car, which is why I came by train.’
‘So how long will you be there?’
‘About a month, Sully thinks, maybe longer depending on how many hours my client wants to work in a day. I’m not sure how old she is, Sully isn’t certain either, but somewhere in her sixties, possibly seventy. There’s surprisingly little about her personal life online. I had to dig pretty deep for an entry that gives her full name and confirms she’s female.’