Chapter 80: Chapter 80 – What´s with this plot

"Let's see if I've got it right," the individual sitting in front of his desk began, "do you want me to change the whole ending? Are you telling me this one is useless?”

“No, of course not. As much as it doesn't work…” Oscar replied, while he considered how he could make himself understood without sounding rude.

It had been more than a month since he started working as an editor at King & Meadows, and although moving away from Snodland did reduce his problems, another thing that was also minimized was his patience. And it is that there was a big difference between being a literary critic for works belonging to free platforms and being a professional editor.

Although, with his usual seriousness, the way in which he valued the works was more or less the same, he could not treat the authors in the same way. To those of the network, after giving him his advice, he did not care if they accepted it or not. It wasn't his problem, so he just ignored them. It made no difference to him whether they thanked or lashed out at him.

Here, on the contrary, the writers who came to him had already signed a contract. It wasn't just that you couldn't get rid of them anymore, it was that you didn't want them to leave unhappy! Therefore, Oscar had to keep his sharp tongue at bay, lest it cause a greater disaster. And, as he had been taught, he always tried to maintain a peaceful debate, explaining his point well so that the author could understand the reason for the changes.

"It´s not that the ending needs to be changed," he had continued, therefore. “As I explained to you, there are a couple of lines that don't make much sense, given the development of the main character up to this point. Perhaps, if you do not consider it appropriate for the novel to end accordingly, you can add some other scene or conversation to justify the decision made by that protagonist.”

“Should I…? But this novel is already getting too long, longer than the ones I usually write,” answered the author, and although he was hesitant, Oscar was already getting the impression he had made up his mind about what to do. “Wouldn't readers get tired if I added another chapter in between? Because, let's see, my protagonist was always somewhat impulsive. He's not one to think about it too much, so it would make some sense if he just jumped into action. Even more so considering that, in the final arc, he has already been through enough traumas to think coldly.”

“Here's the thing; if his character is impulsive, it's only natural for him to make mistakes. But in its final chapter it is as if all those calculation errors went unnoticed by the rest of the antagonists and secondary characters that appear, as if the plot was already heading towards a specific ending and, to achieve it, one had to skip certain plot gaps.”

“What gaps? Are you going to talk to me again about the personality of my protagonist?”

The writer seemed as fed up as Oscar, or more, but, in any case, the latter answered him with the usual kindness:

“No, I'm talking about the setting and the moment this character chose to commit his crime. I mean, it's pretty unlikely that someone would kill his neighbor in his yard. Being in a residential neighborhood, in broad daylight… And that nobody discovers him, much less suspects, even if the murderer and the victim did not get along badly in the eyes of external spectators.”

“It could have been a coincidence, how many murderers have not committed their crimes in the gardens of some house and have gotten away with it...!”

"Well, yes, but that's assuming the victim wasn't capable of defending himself or screaming. That he had some impediment in that sense or, what does not happen here, that there really was no one in the neighborhood who could listen.”

“Is that all the trouble? Very well! I can delete the part where a neighbor talks to my protagonist three days before the murder, about his victim, and also add a couple of lines saying that the whole neighborhood has gone to an event or something.”

"But the part that comes after, the one about framing another person, doesn't either..."

"I'll change what I mentioned, thank you very much for your help," the writer said curtly, getting to his feet. “It has been very interesting to have this opinion, in the absence of Mr. Williams. I'll think about what you said, and when I meet him again, I'll let him know of my decision.”

With that, the author politely said goodbye and left, giving Oscar no time to react.

But what the hell was that? In order for him to practice dealing with authors, Oscar had been assigned a couple of authors on a temporary basis. In this case, he was working under the direction of a certain Mr. Williams, who had taken a vacation on a family matter.

Oscar was to listen to his authors, read the last part of their manuscript, and advise what should be changed. Although, as his official editor, it would be this Williams who, upon returning, would have the last word on the edition and make his own correction accordingly.

Now what good had that been? Almost two hours of talk and that damn guy had hardly agreed on anything!

"You've done well," Clemons, the other employee he shared an office with, who had stayed at his own desk, listening in while he worked on his own documents, told him reassuringly. “The important thing is always not to lose the affability, without completely denying what the authors consider to be the best, which you have done better than the novices that we usually have.”

"Yes, yes, I know," recalling one of the first pieces of advice someone gave him when he went to work there, he pointed out. “I must be gentle and, in case I run into an unexpected debate, give in something. In this way, the author will think that I valued the stupidities he brings to the plot and will also be encouraged to give in. I still have to perfect my technique a bit, but…”

“Who told you that?”

“What?”

"That advice." Clemons couldn't help but laugh.

“Fulton, the editor in chief of the fantasy and science fiction section. And he told me so very convinced, pointing out that his twenty years of experience guarantee it!” Pausing for a moment, he interjected. “Why? Do you think it's wrong?”

“No, the key is more or less that. It's just that the way to say it...”

"Too abrupt, isn't it?" Oscar sighed, leaning back in his seat, still holding the manuscript he'd been working on for the past few hours. “Although it also seems to me to be correct advice, I would be lying if I told you that I was not worried. After all, I am also an author. Now how am I going to know if they accept the chapters because they are decently written or out of Christian charity, knowing that they have the power to do some other fixing?”

“The reason is the least of it, what matters is they accept your manuscript for printing. From then on it is up to the editor and writer to reach a consensus, regardless of the reason, what counts is the final result and that the readers like it.”

"I don't know, but every morning I wake up wondering why the hell I got into this mess," Making sure he could be misunderstood, he hastened to add. “Ah, it's not that I don't like the job, quite the opposite. It is that with this effort with my own writings and with those of others, sometimes I no longer know what I have to give in and what I have to stand firm on.”

“Often happens. But hey, think about the royalties and the salary you will be earning. If you put together a good amount, soon you will be able to invite your girlfriend to a good restaurant.”

Oscar was puzzled for a few seconds, until his brain processed what he had just heard. Girlfriend, right! When he and Clemons first got to know each other, they talked about their respective family situations very casually. Nothing to go into details, just to know the basics of their partners.

And just as Clemons had claimed that he had a fiancée waiting for him in his hometown to be married in less than a year, Oscar had been forced to tell a half-truth. Saying that he had moved to the city with his current partner, omitting the gender of that person and letting the other assume what he thought appropriate.

"The way things are now, I don't know if I could invite anyone to a fancy place," Oscar confessed, unable to help but laugh.

With his novel in the process of being published, and being a newcomer in that company, his salary was not far from what he earned at the local newspaper. It wasn't bad in the sense that he could indulge himself from time to time, but it wasn't anything to write home about either.

Now, the idea of ​​inviting Albert to dinner was tempting. Well, with all that saving for rent, settling down in the flat and trying to adapt as quickly as possible to life in the city, they had barely had the chance to go out to eat. Only on some weekends, when they didn't feel like cooking. And, if so, they always went to some modest establishment, not at all fancy.

"On the other hand," Oscar mused aloud, "I wonder if I'd enjoy dinner in a place like this more than one prepared at home, or going to the usual places."

“Because of what you said?”

“Oh, I was just thinking that maybe my partner has gone already those over-the-top fancy places a lot of times and is bored of it. But then again, knowing that person,  probably won´t complain and be happy to come with me anywhere.”

Although Oscar sentenced this last in good humor, without a hint of doubt, it was not what Clemons noticed:

“So it's true you're dating a lady of status?” He laughed. “I thought it was a lie when you told me! Sorry, but don't take this the wrong way, there are a lot of newbies here pretending to have contacts to make a good impression.”

“I guess I'm lucky I'm not one of them then.”

“And how is she, if I may ask? Damn, how lucky are the authors! It's not hard for you to find people like that, I'll never understand how you do it.”

"I doubt very much that my profession as a writer had anything to do with my attracting this person. And as for how it is… Aren't you being a bit indiscreet? Also, don't you have work to do?”

"Okay, okay, I know how to take hints! You don't need to tell me.” Turning back to his papers, he murmured. “But, in any case, it´s not like I was going to steal her from you.”

The way Clemons said it amused Oscar, but he didn't want to comment further on the subject. To those few people who knew Albert and that they were dating, he had no problem telling them about the aforementioned. But when it came to people like Clemons who, however unintentionally, wanted to inquire into his private life, he preferred to set certain limits. And just as he didn't tell his friends everything, the acquaintances weren't even able to find out the name of his partner.

He had been living like this for over a month, and he would continue.

A month that had turned out to be the most peaceful, since he had more than fulfilled his goal of getting away from both Madeleine and the rest of the characters that made his existence in Snodland difficult.

And no, it is not that the protagonist or the rest of the nuisances that one day swarmed through London had left. On the contrary, as he had been able to find out, they were still there. Only, limiting himself to his little routine of going from home to work, from work to home, and interacting with a narrow circle of humans who were related to him, he had no occasion to run into the aforementioned.

Well, neither he had time nor inclination. Albert, on the other hand, was forced to attend to their miseries from time to time—and this is where Oscar got most of the information about how these people were doing—. Since, although he didn't want to get involved either, he did have to show up at his father's home from time to time. And there, apart from meeting the same, he could also learn the news about those they were both so determined to get away from.

Which, on the other hand, was not an incommensurable problem. Unusual as it seemed, things were pretty quiet after Oscar had disregarded Dianne and the rest.

In the end, neither Theresa nor Madeleine had returned to Snodland. The first because, determined as she was to want to join the same boarding school that Letitia attended, had managed to convince her father to let her stay in the capital for a while longer, until they solved the paperwork and so on. Of course, Mr. Cornell still had no money for tuition, but that didn't necessarily mean Theresa was going to stay out of school.

Peter Northrop, just as he had repudiated the fact that Oscar was dating his son, willingly accepted being the benefactor of this young woman.

Perhaps it was because she and Letitia had become good friends over the past year, or because Theresa had the gray cells that the rest of her sisters lacked, and therefore she always saw herself as someone serious and responsible. Perhaps it was a mixture of these two things that Mr. Northrop did not take long to accept when his daughter suggested that he bear the costs.

In a normal situation, Edmund Cornell would not have accepted someone else taking over what should be his responsibility. But this was not a normal situation at all, and Theresa's father had enough with all the problems that had fallen on him and that, still to this day, he had not been able to solve. If anyone wanted to take a load off him, it would be welcome. He wouldn't dwell on it too much.

Now, it's not like Theresa had any intention of taking advantage of the Northrops, either. She had ruled, after getting her father's lukewarm approval, that she would return what was invested in her to that family. And although it could not be with money, she would do it with shares. Hence, from the time this matter was settled, and until she began her new year at the Cotswolds, she resolved to help in whatever way she could in the service of the home. She was either cleaning the corridors or lending a hand in the kitchen.

She had been told that it was not necessary, since she had not ceased to be a guest, but Theresa insisted to the point that there was no one to stop her. She was not only grateful she had been given a place in Cheltenham, but because she had been allowed to stay with them in the city, even when her sister turned up.

And it is that, speaking of Madeleine, and as miraculous as it seemed, she did manage to keep her job.

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It would be undeniable, in terms of this task, to admit that the protagonist went to her first day with great enthusiasm only to be disappointed, barely twenty minutes after she arrived. It would also be misleading to state that she adapted right away or that she was not bothered by the little scam she was subjected to. In fact, the first two times the villain came to visit the house where his sister — and now her father — still resided, he had to make an effort to avoid Madeleine. Precisely because she was here, she was pissed off and, not being able to see Oscar, she wanted to get the new address out of Albert so that she would have a place and someone to tell him off.

Fortunately, Albert never revealed this information and Madeleine had to settle for sending a note to Oscar through him.

Oscar did not respond to that letter that, given the style of the protagonist, was full of insults and curses. Which wasn't really a problem because, with no time or opportunity to continue searching all over the capital for revenge, Madeleine couldn't do much more than continue writing on her own, relaying all her complaints to Albert.

This went on for several weeks but, either because her pride prevented her or because she truly believed she could achieve a greater good by staying there, Madeleine did not give up the job.

Those two or three scurrilous notes she sent eventually turned into peaceful attempts at civil conversation. Something that seemed suspicious at first but that, as the days passed, became more and more certain. Well, there came a point where Madeleine had stopped blaming Oscar for getting her into this mess, and although she didn't rave about her job either, her complaints weren't as ardent as in the lines of the first letter that she sent.

Albert himself confirmed it, after a couple of visits to the mansion where Madeleine continued to stay; she was a little calmer and willing to let go of her old habits, apologizing for her impulsive acts even, as if all it had taken for her to be completely brainwashed was to get away from Snodland.

It was truly incredible the power that could have within that novel to move so far from the original focus of the plot! Not only the protagonist, but Oscar himself seemed to have better luck since he left town.

And perhaps it was because of the relaxed atmosphere that the city provided, or because its protagonist was a little less annoying than when she arrived, that Oscar finally agreed to meet her one of those days when he didn't have much to do.

Of course, his opinion of this person had not changed much. Despite the fact that Madeleine was in the process of reforming —which would have been tested by both the villain and those who lived with her in London—, this did not make her his friend. He had no intention of visiting her on the Northrop estate, much less granting her permission to set foot in his home. That didn't change, not even after meeting her on the street and discovering that she, in fact, no longer seemed angry with him.

Now having an isolated chat with her over coffee in a public establishment didn't sound so terrible. There would always be time to send her to hell anyway.

And it was thus, therefore, how Oscar found out the details of what happened in those weeks in which he was missing for the protagonists, immersed as he was in his own affairs.

"I have to say that Letitia is quite nice, which I didn't expect at all, considering her brother is so wizened," Madeleine had commented to him, once they were settled at a little table next to one of the windows of the place. “If it hadn't been for her, I would have had to stay with Theresa in some seedy hotel.”

"But weren't you finally making money? I don't think it's such a big deal to move to a hostel or rent a small apartment. And besides, doesn't Theresa have the protection of the Northrops? I doubt very much they would leave you helpless in case you decided to live on your own… At least because of her.”

“No, wait, I plan to do that as soon as the summer is over! First I wanted to save something… I have to take advantage of the fact these people are willing to let us stay, until Theresa starts classes at that boarding school that she wants to go to.”

“Are you okay?” Oscar asked this with some distrust, still unable to believe that they had been talking for more than fifteen minutes and the protagonist's childish fury had not yet been unleashed.

"Why shouldn't I be?"

“I never thought that you could talk about “saving” and “working” as if it were something usual, without making a drama out of it” Lowering his voice, so that the latter couldn't be heard, he added. “It even creeps me out, I feel like I'm in the wrong novel all of a sudden.”

"Stop being stupid! For your information, I am as capable as any other person… Or even better! If you didn't know yet, it's only because I didn't want you to. All this time I have needed to keep a low profile, so as not to stand out and remain humble in the eyes of others in order to get into a good marriage. But, since that doesn't matter anymore, now I can once again show how extraordinary I am." Without giving Oscar time to say anything about it, she blurted out. “What happens is that men are so goofy, you don't know when one is acting and when not!”

No, Madeleine, it's just your character that's hard to discern because your author epically screwed up giving her characters a personality, he thought, but chose not to say anything.

Be that as it may, despite the fact that Madeleine had taken that course so unknown to her, in essence she remained the same as always. And this was made evident when she uttered the following words:

"But that job you put me in... It's detestable! though now I'm starting to get along better, because I found a way to delegate responsibilities to other unwary people. And I also know my bosses' way of reviewing, which is damn simple; they do not check anything, unless there is a very visible stain! So the only thing I have to take care of is the old magpie that supervises me when I wash, the visitors and the rest of the workers I have no problem with.”

"Oh, so you managed to fit in?"

Oscar chose to be happy for her, instead of delving further into what she meant by "delegating responsibilities." He wasn't in the mood to lecture people, much less people who probably wouldn't listen.

"Something like that," Madeleine admitted. “Although at first I really wanted to leave! That old magpie, Mrs. Wheeler, had the nerve to ask me to get down on my knees as soon as I got there, to scrub the floor! Who does she think she is? No, who does she think I am?”

"But Madeleine, that is how you normally clean the floor."

When were mops invented? He wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he read that it was sometime in the middle of the 20th century.

“How am I going to start cleaning up in front of that supervisor with such bad viciousness? No, don't begin with that it was her job to check that I did my chores, I already know that! But please, on my first day, who would think of lowering me to such a degree? She was even criticizing me for being slow and not passing the brush as I should!”

"Well, that´s normal when starting any job, right?"

"No, I did well! What happens is that the old woman is half blind, and she was unable to see him. So I had to stay to show her that, in that building, the only useless one was her. That's why she spent her time giving orders to those of us who work there, but she doesn't lift a finger for the cause.”

"And what did you do, cause a rebellion?" Oscar laughed, having a good time imagining this.

"I wish I could but... But the other employees there didn't want to follow me! They said it was better for me to shut up and get down to business, the stupid ones. There I understood that they came from a poor family, otherwise I do not understand why so much resignation would come.”

“Lucky that you came, to be the beacon of light that guides them along the path of progress and takes them out of the ignorance typical of the middle class worker.”

"Look, I'm only staying at this horrible job for two reasons," Madeleine continued, ignoring the sarcasm. “To begin with, I want to show that magpie that I'm worth as much or more than the other girls she has cleaning up after those men who don't even know where they put their feet. And second, and more importantly, it is because I know that interacting with people from that lyceum will open doors to a better job for me. Can you imagine they can finally hire me as a governess or, better yet, as a companion? That's why I'm also saving to buy a nice dress, as soon as the next ball is organized nearby, I plan to sneak in. This is how you climb in society!”

"I don't know if that method of climbing will work for you, but if it makes you work hard to fulfill your obligations, then welcome."

"Don't pretend you don't know, that's just how you climbed!" Madeleine reminded him accusingly. “How else did you get Letitia to let you into her house to seduce her brother?”

“Without getting into debates about what she was proposing to me or what she stopped proposing to me when I entered Thornfield, I seem to remember that if I snuck into that ball it was because you asked me to.”

"And I asked you to do that too?"

Oscar did not understand this last question, but Madeleine had made it by pointing to some place on his cheek, with a fork that she had been using to eat her piece of cake, and which a little more inadvertently may stab into the cheek.

"Put that down, it's dangerous," Oscar asked, calming down instantly when he saw how the protagonist obeyed. “I do not know what you mean.”

"That scratch," she specified. “I already imagined that you and Albert Northrop were in quite a hurry to prefer each other to a woman, but I didn't take it too seriously, thinking it was a passing delusion. Or so I thought until now, at least. Are you so violent in the bedroom or what? Oh, not that I care though. Those perversions don't go with me. I can respect it, but I don't share them.”

"That's good, because I was just thinking of telling you that it was none of your business."

Although that wound to which Madeleine referred, had more to do with a mangy cat than with a villain who had nothing malevolent. And the truth was, even before he'd done anything, it was hard to think of Albert as terribly gruff in the bedroom.

But, obviously, those kinds of details weren't the kind that Oscar would go around telling. Therefore, he interjected:

"What happened to Dianne, by the way?"

Since the day he accidentally bumped into the writer on the street, Oscar hadn't heard from her again. And although it was true that she had gone to the Northrop home, he did not know the details of that meeting. He only knew that, just as she visited them one day in May in the company of Patrick, she never returned there. Not that he knew, at least.

“That traitor…! Better not talk to me about her because look, I dedicated a few lines to her when I wrote to my parents, telling her not to worry about but not to expect me to come back with that hake Patrick Seymour either. And what does she do? She shows up at Northrop house with that asshole, like offering me crap on a silver platter! Who comes up with her?”

"I'm afraid some people lack imagination," Oscar pointed out, thinking that Dianne's idea of ​​forcing Madeleine to see her ex in such a crude way was one of the worst ideas she had ever had.

“I don't know who's worse at this point, her or Patrick. Because, as far as he is concerned, he is not sorry at all! And, even if he says otherwise, I know perfectly well he just wants to get back with me to get rid of that Hendricks woman who won't stop harassing him. But you know what? I'm not anyone's second course, I made it very clear to both of them!”

"Did you ask them to leave, then?"

“W-well… I was quite persuasive. Then I had to apologize to Mr. Northrop for breaking a couple of pieces of china and trying to ram a chair into Patrick's head. But the usual thing. I don't know what happened to those two, but since that incident they never showed up at the house again.”

Hearing this, Oscar couldn't help but wonder; Would that persuasion so that the protagonist did not approach it would have been exercised by Madeleine with that outburst or by Peter Northrop himself by forbidding them entry?

Albert had told him the male lead wasn't the last one his father didn't want to see setting foot on his property. And while Patrick's parents were good friends with Mr. Northrop, there was a limit to everything. As long as Madeleine continued to reside in that mansion, Patrick would not be allowed to enter even to the gardens. If he wanted something, he would have no choice but to send a note and wait patiently for the appropriate response.

Peter Northrop must have had enough of all the skirt fuss going on around and he really wasn't interested in anything. He just wanted to keep his house quiet and scandal-free as a priority, just as it had been for decades. It must have been a real nuisance for him to have taken into his home a woman who was on the run from her ex-fiancé and, furthermore, his own son had eloped with a same-sex lover. Now, what could he do but resign himself and bear it all with fortitude?

None of this seemed to bother Letitia. On the contrary, she was delighted that these two people whom she considered friends had stayed in the city. And, perhaps, it was just because of that that her father was trying to contain himself so as not to start an unnecessary fight.

After all, and despite the fact that Albert had gone his own way, in those months he had never tried to stir up a possible brawl. He hadn't made any demands on his either, or thrown anything in his face. Hoping that one day he would accept what was his, the villain continued behaving like the good son he had always been. Perhaps with the novelty that, being motivated, he tried to make an effort more than in the past.

Taking nothing for granted and acting more discreetly than he had at Snodland, it was clear that Albert did not wish to give his father reason to disapprove of his course of action.

In the end, Oscar realized, it seemed that everyone was cooperating for a common goal; maintaining peace in their lives and moving forward, avoiding possible threats or people who could delay their goals.

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