Oxford Knot

Kate followed Devlin’s tall figure into the bookshop. He raised his arms, knocking over a display of cookery books as he did so, and called out, ‘Aisling!  Darling!  How wonderful to see you!’

‘Oh, Devlin!’ gushed Aisling [the publisher’s Publicity Officer], scarlet to her hairline.

‘Where are my books?’ asked Devlin, releasing her and looking around the shop.  ‘You have got my new hardback, haven’t you?’ he accused a young salesgirl.

‘Of course,’ she said.

‘Too far back,’ said Devlin.  ‘Take those cookery books away and put mine here, in the front.  And one of each title in the window, please.  Put one of the showcards in the window display, too.  Now, show me where the drinks are, and where I’ll be sitting for the signing.’

As Devlin moved further into the shop, Kate approached Aisling, who was standing looking dazed.

‘Hallo, I’m Kate Ivory,’ she said.  It seemed a terrible anti-climax after Devlin Hayle.

‘Who?’

‘Kate Ivory.  I write historical novels.  I’m your other author on the tour.’

‘But of course!  Kate!  How lovely to meet you at last!’

‘Do you think they have a few copies of my books, too?’ asked Kate.

She and Aisling walked to the back of the shop. Although it was mid-afternoon, Devlin had acquired a tumbler of what looked like whisky.

‘Here we are.  Don’t you look lovely?’  said Aisling, producing Kate’s showcards.

Kate had to agree that the showcards were very good.  Her photo smiled at the public.  It was her own face that she saw, but younger, brighter, smarter than her everyday self.