Chapter 74: Chapter 74 – Change of jobs

The address Mr. Simmons gave him at the time was that of an old building situated in one of the busiest neighborhoods in London. To be precise, it was a ground floor where the King & Meadows publishing house was located, which although it did not exist in the world from which Oscar came, it was a company well known to everyone in the universe of Dianne's original manuscript. And it is that, despite the fact that none of her characters took to dedicate to publishing, it had been mentioned that some of the novels that both the Cornells and the Seymours owned had been edited by these people.

Knowing that this publishing house was trustworthy —not only because of what his former boss said, who was not impartial about it, but because he himself had realized that the books published there were sold even in towns as remote as Snodland—, gave him more confidence to go inside the establishment.

After just two days in the capital, he had convinced himself and the others that he could do this alone. That feeling was still there, although he could not help wishing that someone had accompanied him at least to the entrance of the establishment: That building, inside, was so majestic...! It had nothing to do with the local newspaper office where he had been working for so many months, eternally fighting for no one to occupy the small desk that was supposed to be his property while he was away.

Not only was the place spacious and well cared for, with dozens of tables, shelves and armchairs on which to work or meet with clients and suppliers, it was also full of staff! And on top of that, it was staff who were already accustomed to visits. In the sense that, if Oscar appeared for the local newspaper in town everyone would have stared at him for a moment, when he entered. But here however hardly anyone even noticed how the front door opened to admit him.

The only one who noticed he had entered or, rather, who wanted to act accordingly when seeing a stranger enter the premises, was a suited individual who from behind a counter who was introduced as one of the secretaries of the place.

It was this same person who, after Oscar explained who he was and on whose recommendation came, ushered him into an adjoining room. In which he told him to sit and wait for Mr. Meadows, who at that time was meeting with one of his employees, to call him.

And what could Oscar do but wait for the inevitable moment of confrontation to arrive? He was grateful to have a chair to settle into, but he would almost have preferred to be made to wait in the first room he entered. Because, nervous as he felt, and since it had been a long time since he had put everything on the line in a job interview, he wished he had something to distract himself with. Even if it were just watching the building staff come and go as they pleased, having conversations that as someone outside the company they would not be able to understand, or simply writing and filling out sales reports.

In this empty room in which he found himself, now that the secretary had returned to his post after alerting Mr. Meadows to his presence, it only helped his mind wander to unfounded speculation and questions like: What would he do if he didn't succeed? that these people gave him a job?

But no, he wasn't going to let panic get to him. As nervous as he felt, Oscar knew how to control himself.

He soon dismissed those negative thoughts and began to ruminate on tasks that, perhaps, would be less harmful to his spirit. Things like, for example, what would Albert be doing at that moment?

As they agreed, since Theresa hadn't been to London more than a couple of times in her life, and only in passing, the Northrops could serve as her guides, taking her on visits to various points of interest they were familiar with. Starting from the day before, then, the girls had dedicated themselves to showing up at every museum, park, or well-known establishment that caught their eye.

Of course, not that it was necessary for the villain to accompany them, since the Northrop household had more than capable employees to carry out this task, making sure the girls arrived safely at each destination. But, after having made an appointment with one of his father's workers and receiving a response indicating a date and place to meet for the second time, in order to evaluate him as just another worker, the truth is that Albert had nothing better to do until then.

In short, not until Oscar was free and they could start looking for a place to live. Being that, although Albert already had a couple of places in mind to try his luck, he did not plan to visit them alone.

And, with the panorama being like this, why not take the opportunity to spend more time with his family?

That morning, therefore, they all left in a carriage. They left Oscar a couple of blocks from the publishing house, while Albert and the others continued their journey to another unspecified part of the capital. The idea was that they would meet at noon, to eat at a restaurant that they had previously agreed on. After that, and even if the girls decided to continue with their planned tour of the city, he and Albert would separate from them to begin their precious apartment search.

In short, that was the plan.

Returning to the present, less than ten minutes passed until an office door opened, snapping him out of his thoughts. An individual, who must have been the clerk the editor-in-chief had been talking to, came out, barely pausing to indicate to Oscar he could come in now. And yes, he did, surprising himself to find that his anxiety had diminished considerably by worrying about others and not paying attention to his own mental dramas.

Of course, that wasn't the only surprise the day had in store for him. Mr. Meadows, friendly as anyone else, spoke to him with total familiarity when expressing:

"Simmons has told me a lot about you," he began, once the introductions were over and they had settled face to face at a desk. “But that's not a new thing: Before you were offered the idea of ​​writing a novel, he had already told me about a talented author that he had managed to capture for his newsletter.”

"Maybe he exaggerated a bit," Oscar had commented, embarrassed.

He wasn't considered a bad writer, but he wasn't a portent either. And, truthfully, the level of literary quality that Snodland readers demanded should not be very high if the only one who could give it some competition was Dianne with her pornographic texts. Well, although that wasn't allowed to be published in any decent newspaper, Oscar had heard rumors that there were a few who paid the author, from time to time, to write them a story or two with a sinful theme.

 "It's possible he did. I know him well and I know that he has a certain tendency to exaggerate when he finds something to his liking… Which doesn't mean he's wrong,” Mr. Meadows went on. “You know? We two studied together, although in the end we chose different paths; I stayed living in the city and, after a decade, I was able to start this publishing company in the company of my brother-in-law. While he, on the contrary, despite having the opportunity to stay in the capital, decided to return to his native town. A waste, if I may say so! But hey, the thing is that this way the joys are greater, if he finds someone who writes moderately well.”

“Does that mean that there´s a lot of traffic in authors around here?”

"Someone new shows up almost every month," he stated vehemently. “Some come with their false humility to offer their new five-hundred-page novel (who the hell reads such a Bible coming from a newbie, by the way?) and others, usually those who come from better-off families, plant their manuscripts under your nose like if they were offering you the play of the century. And the funny thing here is that everything is just as mediocre! In a town like Snodland, those things don't happen that often. That is why finding talent is more complicated, there is less to choose from.”

That was believable, since Oscar knew well how Mr. Simmons' newspaper worked. Other than himself, there was only one other fictional author publishing his texts. And, in his case, he had been there for about four years.

In other words, it took four years for Mr. Simmons to decide to hire another writer who lived up to his expectations.

"Now, despite the fact that I think Simmons was exaggerating about you, I still have a proposition to make: You're not bad at writing (although you're no wonder, as far as I'm concerned), so if you want to being one of the authors who publish under our seal, I would be willing to endorse it” As if the matter was already settled, Mr. Meadows began to search his files for some documents, immediately depositing them, page by page, on his table “Of course, this is not definitive. You do not have to sign or accept anything right now. I just thought that, since you were going to come, I could take the opportunity to explain the terms of a possible contract, as well as give you a detailed summary of how we do things in these parts...”

"Wait, wait, I think there's been a mistake," Oscar stopped him.

Meadows seemed thrown, taking on too much in less than five minutes. They had barely introduced themselves and he was already telling him that he could join his company as just another writer! Even the letter of recommendation that Mr. Simmons wrote, he had barely glanced at before setting it aside, as if he had no relevance to what they were discussing.

"How could there be a mistake? Haven't you come to try your luck with your writing?"

“Yes, but as an editor. I was looking for a long-term job, if possible. That is why I went to Mr. Simmons, in case he could help me and intercede with you.”

This is not to mention that Oscar never had much luck with publishers, being in his day. So he didn't have too many expectations about it; Being suddenly told that he could publish in one was not something he could believe or for which he had the ability to easily delude himself.

“Simmons mentioned some of that earlier, yes. But then wouldn´t you be interested in publishing with us? We haven't gone over the conditions yet, and anyway, I was going to give you some time to think about it and figure it all out on your own.”

“Oh, it's not that. Of course, if accepted, I'd be happy to publish,” Oscar said quickly, fearing that he was going to miss an opportunity by starting to latch on to the wrong target. “I only said that, at first, I came with the intention of applying as editor. If you think I have potential as a writer, and you want to give my manuscript a chance, I'm fine with that, too. I am open to suggestions.”

But how could Mr. Meadows agree to having him as the author so simply? Oscar intended to bring him his manuscript one day, for his appraisal, only if he got the editor's job. However, this man acted as if he already knew his narration well. Could it be that old Simmos had gotten excited and sent him the copy of his manuscript without saying anything...?

Oscar guessed this a few seconds before Meadows confirmed it:

“Simmons sent me your novel about a month ago and, I have to say, it has been an entertaining read. It needs to be polished a bit, but how could it not be so, if it has not been edited yet? That's why I wanted to ask you to publish it with us as soon as you showed up, I apologize if I was too abrupt.”

“No, it´s an honor that you liked the novel. It's just that I didn't come prepared.”

And it was true that Oscar still had a hard time believing it, but the fact that there was already an offer for which he could make a profit was a big step. Then everything would depend on the conditions of that contract, although in the first instance it was nice to know that at least in that time and city, there could be readers interested in reading what he wrote.

"If you're also interested in a job as an editor, I don't mind testing you for it."

"Please, I'd like to do it."

“Now?” Having received a quiet confirmation, he continued. “Okay, okay. I'm not going to deny that either, if there's anything left over here, it's the disastrous texts, because there are some high-status authors to whom it is not possible to say no, since they are regular benefactors.”

After confirming this, Meadows went to another door and, from there, he was heard exchanging a few words with someone. When he returned to his seat, having re-closed that entrance which he was to lead to another office, he returned with a fine stack of papers which he deposited before Oscar saying:

"So let's save all the legal paraphernalia for later. Take a look at this first, read it carefully and tell me what you would change. Oh wait, I'll leave you a pencil so you can mark what you think.”

And so, the test began.

Perhaps Oscar had been nervous when he arrived, not knowing what he was going to find inside that office. But, once he managed to concentrate on the papers that were offered to him, all that restlessness diminished until it completely vanished.

The reason was not just because Mr. Meadows was friendly, welcoming him into his office like an old employee, but because he ended up getting into his work mode himself. And, when Oscar got into the task of editing a manuscript, his concentration reached such a point that he forgot his surroundings.

So he spent that morning in the company of the editor-in-chief. At first, telling him what he saw that could be improved in that story and, later, talking in a very informal way about the terms and conditions that had to be met to be one more in that company.

As the text to be corrected was extensive, and adding to this that Mr. Meadows was one of those who extended himself talking about topics that were of interest to him —despite the fact that they were irrelevant—, Oscar did not finish his business in the editorial until late afternoon.

And yes, on the one hand he was sorry that he hadn't been able to make it in time to join the others for a stroll through the streets, but on the other he was glad that his mission had been a success. That day he would return to the Northrop home with a contract under his arm: Meadows would still have to think about whether he would require him as another editor on his staff, based on the results of the test he had done, but at least an offer of publication with the publisher was already assured.

Oscar hired a carriage to return, his calm restored.

Although he had agreed to eat at a certain restaurant, he had missed the hour by far. Which, on the other hand, was not surprising. Both he and Albert were aware that these job-hunting matters and, in general, any long-term business they might have in the capital, could take a long time to rig. That morning could even be considered unusual! Perhaps, if Mr. Simmons had not sent any manuscript to his friend, Oscar would have received nothing more than a few friendly words and a request that he come back another day, after his abilities were evaluated.

But anyway, the point was that, even though they had arranged to eat, there was always the possibility that Oscar would not arrive on time as it ended up happening.

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This being the case, he and Albert previously agreed to meet at the Northrop mansion after a certain time. Once there, Oscar could have lunch—if he hadn't been able to before—and when it was over, if he still had the energy, they could both resume the chores that had brought them to London, beginning to make occasional visits to certain neighborhoods and people who could help them in their apartment search.

Oscar was in no hurry. Not now.

Even if the costs of the small hotel where he now spent the nights were slowly eating into his savings, it was nice not to have to worry about spending too much time in a house where he wouldn't be welcome once the deadline passed. Anxiety wasn't good in and of itself, but if there was continued and overt pressure, his mood could only get worse.

He knew it and that is why he tried to see the positive side of the matter.

Saving time and money to the best of his ability, he took a carriage to Northrop Manor, where the butler received him with the usual cordiality. To his surprise, before he could inquire about Albert and company, he was told that a letter addressed to his person arrived along with the morning mail. Which, by the way, was quite strange. No one except Mr. Northrop knew that he was stopping by that week.

Or well, none of those who were not friends. For example, he had said something to Sayer and Kenneth. He even mentioned it to Mallory the last time he saw her. But he had specified to all of them that it would be temporary, that he´d be writing to them once settled in his new apartment so that, when it was their turn to respond, they could use the new address.

On the other hand, what would any of them have to say to him after only a couple of weeks apart? Perhaps the only one who could be anxious to get in touch with him again would be Kenneth, because before Oscar left, he excitedly told him that he had witnessed the best photo shoot of his life. And that, sharing his joy, he wanted to show those photos to him.

The idea was good, although the photographs would take a while to be developed - not even the young gardener would take care of it. For this reason, despite the fact that he would have liked it, Oscar did not get to see them before leaving. Now, weeks after the failed ceremony, it was clear that these would be ready...

But no, there couldn't be that much luck in one day. The sender of the letter was none other than Dianne.

Oscar sighed out of sheer boredom as he took the envelope and, even before opening it, noticed that it was heavy. That woman had stuffed a bigger handful of pages in there than Mr. Meadows had him go through hours ago! What the hell was wrong with her?

Before deciding whether he would read or throw the papers into the nearest fireplace, Oscar counted the pages. There were a total of sixteen, That is, he didn't even know what black magic the author had used to make it all fit in the wrapper! Then, going back to the first of the pages, it could be seen that in the greeting part the words “esteemed” and “dear” were written, and crossed out, before his name.

The first paragraph went like this:

“How dare you put such absurd ideas into Madeleine's head? That's why women ignore you, now I understand! Not only do you have no fucking idea how romance works, but on top of that you're a coward who has to run into the villain's arms every time things go wrong! Do you even love him? You can't fool me anymore, you're just using him as a shield!

“And I'm going to tell you one thing, now you can say goodbye to those supposed favors that I owe you. I've gone out of my way long enough to lend a hand to Albert Northrop, despite your eternal eagerness to destroy all my work, and put the rumors of his amoral affair to death. But hey, he's not to blame for what his useless lover does!

“But you… I'm not going to help you! In fact, if you and I meet again in person…”

Oscar stopped reading here, thinking it wasn't worth it. And instead he just skimmed through the rest of the pages, just in case she said something more relevant that he might want to know. But no, fourteen of the sixteen pages were pure insults the likes of which only a teenager without much of a vocabulary in theur repertoire could spit out.

“This woman doesn't learn”, he thought as he remembered that, the days before his departure, she was also trying to contact him for that fight that she couldn't finish. Which, if she couldn't pull it off, was because Oscar made sure to avoid it as much as he could. When he wasn't far enough from the inn, he met the villain. And, obviously, there was no way Dianne would bring herself to get close like that. The most she could do was glare at him from afar.

Now, in the last few pages, something caught Oscar's interest:

“Just so you know, thanks to your actions, Madeleine has disappeared.

“After a few days of arguing, both with her family and friends (who tried to advise her as best we could), she threatened to leave Snodland and go 'to see the world'. That was literally what she told me, in her own words, when I insisted that she explain to me what was going through her mind.

“They think she meant to imply that she would take a ship and go abroad, but I know her well. She may be able to outwit her parents, her sisters and even Patrick himself, but I know perfectly well that she is London!

“That is, it is something that is understood. She spent the whole week talking about going to a more spacious and classy place, where she could make use of her talents and have large numbers of people around her that she did appreciate. Where could she go if she is not London? There's her sister, and although it's wrong for me to mention it, she doesn't have the money to go any further!

“Oh, and this is not all. Patrick, who of course would not give up on her after having come so far, tried to talk to her and offer her some gifts so that she would forgive him… He even promised her that he would reach an agreement with the new owners of Rose Cottage to get the mansion back! But of course, now that idea has gone to hell, because Madeleine has left, rejecting him again. And that woman you lured into town with vile intentions, that Hendricks, has decided to stay. No, not just stay. She's stalking Patrick, going after him every time she goes out and invading Lilac Hall every time the front gate is left open!

"I hope you're happy given all you've caused!"

“Yes, I'm very happy, thanks for your prosperity wishes”, thought Oscar, now visibly amused. He didn't think that his words in the sacristy would cause such a powerful effect on Madeleine, but if the protagonist wanted to get away from all the toxicity that invaded her, he was fine with it.

“For my part, I have to state that I am very worried about Madeleine. They say she took an errand yesterday morning and she hasn't been seen since. What will she do when she gets to London, huh? I don't think she has the money to stay in a hotel for many days. What if she tries to find the Northrops' home for shelter? But she doesn't even have their address because you had the indecency to refuse giving it to her...! I cannot, nor do I want to imagine my protagonist alone and helpless in the streets, spending the night in the open. It's just awful!

“You have to find her, it is your moral duty to bring her back to Snodland!

“If you don't, I don't know how badly this novel can end. For now, although it's very clear to me that Patrick doesn't want anything with Hendricks, rumors are already beginning to spread that if the damned one doesn't leave it's because she's gotten pregnant from chasing Patrick so much and is looking to take advantage of it. that fact to tie an innocent to a commitment, forcing him to forget Madeleine forever.

“And the Cornells… those people haven't been able to hold their heads since the wedding! They are so embarrassed and short of cash, because they spent what they had left on that ceremony, that they are considering firing their servant and moving to another town where no one knows them. It's amazing how this story is going to hell...! If you hadn't intervened so rudely earlier, Madeleine and Patrick would be happily married by now, Rose Cottage would still be in Cornell's possession, and more importantly, my female lead would have no need to go off to work, she'd be here! well cared for by her beloved!”

Oscar stopped here again, tired of reading nonsense. He would be lying if he said that, knowing how impulsive and idiotic Madeleine was, he didn't care that she was alone in the city. But, in any case, his concern was not enough to run to look for it. Much less having found her, dragging her to the same town he fled from.

That is why he told himself, as he arranged those papers with the intention of returning them to the envelope, that if he saw Madeleine in the city, the most he would do would be to check that she was okay and, immediately afterwards, ask her to write a letter to Dianne to see if this way she stopped bothering him with the same old song.

"Did that letter announce something good?" Albert had asked, having just arrived, he couldn't help noticing Oscar's expression.

“Nah.  What could perhaps be good comes in this other folder," he pointed out, handing her some documents that he still hadn't parted with. “This is just a thesis about a lost animal.”

"An animal, you say?"

“A very annoying one who walks on two legs, but with enough capacity to take a car and prowl around the city after hours. We don´t have to worry about it, in any case. I might reply to this letter later, if only to reassure the owner.”

Albert nodded, approving and not wanting to delve further into the matter. Perhaps because he had noticed that Dianne's name was on the envelope. And with that over, he turned all of his attention to the papers Oscar had given him.

Not that he needed to read them right now, it wasn't urgent. Meadows gave Oscar a couple of weeks to make up his mind. And, during this period, he was free to return to the publishing house whenever he wanted. Or, failing that, send a note arranging an appointment if he wanted to make sure he was seen right away at a prearranged time. Anyway, Oscar was tempted to mention this to Albert but, in the end, he didn't.

The villain had begun to review that contract and, as he advanced paragraph by paragraph until he reached the end of the five pages, his expression was transforming into a slightly more relaxed and smiling one, as if what he had before him was the official communication of news that had been waiting for centuries. Well, Oscar noticed him so enthusiastic, even before opening his mouth to say anything, that he didn't want to interrupt him and just stayed enjoying the show until Albert finally decided to speak:

“You should review this with a lawyer, but after a first glance, things look good.”

Of course, that was something Oscar already knew. Despite the fact that this was his first publishing contract, by his time he had gathered some experience in the matter of legal agreements. Not only based on doing different jobs in different companies, but because, through his blog, he was in contact with several authors who told him about the process.

It wasn't as if things hadn't been different a couple of centuries ago, and he obviously wouldn't go without the help of a lawyer, either. But he considered it good to have some basic knowledge on his own.

"How has it been for you?" he inquired, deciding to ignore his own achievement for a while.

“Fairly good. We have traversed Trafalgar so thoroughly that I think to such an extent we could establish a map of the area including every stone in the road.”

“Sounds fun but tiring at the same time.”

“It was both. It was worth it, although I wish I could find a place to sit sooner rather than later. For the girls, on the other hand, time flew by.”

"I wish I could have gone." Oscar smiled imagining what Albert had had to endure that morning; It was quite true that he enjoyed those walks... as long as they didn't last forever and his companions tried to drag him to the local shops. “Although I was in London a couple of times, I never really had time to stop and see the sights.”

Not even at the beginning of that adventure, when he had to take the protagonist and her sister to the Summerfield ball and it made sense that he had the opportunity to wander the streets, was he able to waste his time sightseeing. Whenever he set foot in the capital, and despite allowing himself a few minutes of contemplation to admire the buildings around him, he had one goal in mind. And he couldn't get sidetracked from such a goal as easily as he would have liked.

"From now on we can take all the walks we want," After a few seconds of consideration, the villain hastened to add. “But today I'd rather not, I've had enough.”

“Something happened?”

The villain couldn't be said to be a talkative person per se, but he was suddenly too quiet. As if he was still brooding over something he wasn't quite ready to state out loud yet. Although, he was so subtle in all that, that it was quite likely that if it hadn't been for Oscar already knowing him well, he wouldn't have noticed that something else was bothering him.

"Nothing," Albert ended up answering, but seeing that it was impossible to pass off that lie as the truth, he conceded. “I'll tell you after lunch, because it's going to be a bit long.”

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