the all-time
greats. Gone With The Wind, Forever Amber, Valley of The Dolls, Dr Zhivago, Airport, The
Carpetbaggers. You'd make the Reader's Digest Almanac.'
'The Reader's Digest Almanac? said Hutchmeyer in an awed voice. 'You really think I could make
that?'
'Think? I know. This is a prestige book about life's potentialities. No kitsch. Message like
Mary Baker Eddy. A symphony of words. Look who's bought it in London. No fly-by-night firm.'
'Who?' said Hutchmeyer suspiciously.
'Corkadales.'
'Corkadales bought it? The oldest publishing '
'Not the oldest. Murrays are older,' said Sonia.
'So, old. How much?'
'Fifty thousand pounds,' said Sonia glibly.
Hutchmeyer stared at her. 'Corkadales paid fifty thousand pounds for this book? Fifty
grand?'
'Fifty grand. First time off. No hassle.'
'I heard they were in trouble,' said Hutchmeyer. 'Some Arab bought them?'
'No Arab. It's a family firm. So Geoffrey Corkadale paid fifty grand. He knows this book is
going to get them out of hock. You think they'd risk that sort of money if they were going to
fold?'
'Shit,' said Hutchmeyer, 'somebody's got to have faith in this fucking book...but two million!
No one's ever paid two million for a novel. Robbins a million but...'
'That's the whole point, Hutch. You think I ask two million for nothing? Am I so dumb? It's
the two million makes the book. You pay two million and people know, they've got to read the book
to find out what you paid for. You know that. You're in a class on your own. Way out in front.
And then with the film...'
'I'd want a cut of the film. No single-figure percentage. Fifty-fifty.'
'Done,' said Sonia. 'You've got yourself a deal. Fifty-fifty on the film it is.'
'The author...this Piper guy, I'd want him too,' said Hutchmeyer.
'Want him?' said Sonia, sobering. 'Want him for what?'
'To market the product. He's going to be out there up front where the public can see him. The
guy who fucks the geriatrics. Public appearances across the States, signings, TV talk shows,
interviews, the whole razzamattaz. We'll build him up like he's a genius.'
'I don't think he's going to like that,' said Sonia nervously, 'he's shy and reserved.'
'Shy? He washes his jock in public and he's shy?' said Hutchmeyer. 'For two million he'll chew
asses if I tell him.'
'I doubt if he'd agree '
'Agree he will or there's no deal,' said Hutchmeyer. 'I'm throwing my weight behind his book,
he has to too. That's final.'
'OK, if that's the way you want it,' said Sonia.
'That's the way I want it,' said Hutchmeyer. 'Like the way I want you...'
Sonia made her escape and hurried back to Lanyard Lane with the contract.
She found Frensic looking decidedly edgy. 'Home and dry,' she said, dancing heavily round the
room.
'Marvellous,' said Frensic. 'You are brilliant.'
Sonia stopped cavorting. 'With a proviso.'
'Proviso? What proviso?'
'First the good news. He loves the book. He's just wild about it.'
Frensic regarded her cautiously. 'Isn't he being a bit premature? He hasn't had a chance to
read the bloody thing yet.'
'I told him about it...a synopsis and he loved it. He sees it as filling a much-needed
gap.'
'A much-needed gap?'
'The generation gap. He feels '
'Spare me his feelings,' said Frensic. 'A man who can talk about filling much-needed gaps is
deficient in ordinary human emotions.'
'He thinks Pause will do for youth and age what Lolita did for...'
'Parental responsibility?' suggested Frensic.
'For the middle-aged man,' said Sonia.
'For God's sake, if this is the good news can leprosy be far behind.'
Sonia sank into a chair and smiled. 'Wait till you hear the price.'
Frensic waited. 'Well?'
'Two million.'
'Two million?' said Frensic trying to keep the quaver out of his voice. 'Pounds or
dollars?'
Sonia looked at him reproachfully. 'Frenzy, you are a bastard, an ungrateful bastard. I pull
off '
'My dear, I was merely trying to ascertain the likely extent of the horrors you are