Jo thought the feeling of him so close to her was something else that was also burned into her mind. And that, she knew, was potentially a very bad thing.
Jo couldn’t quite believe that Ewan had booked them accommodation in the luxurious Harvey’s Point Hotel. She’d have been happy with a B&B, but she couldn’t deny she was blown away with the Lakeshore Suite Ewan had arranged. She snapped some pictures of it on her phone, already wishing she had a proper camera like Ewan’s. She took pictures of the balcony overlooking Lough Eske, and the claw-footed bath she was planning to take full advantage of later. She typed three smiley-faced emojis and sent the pictures to her mum, Erin, Noah and Libby. Thankfully she stopped before she sent the same picture to Lorcan, knowing that he wouldn’t appreciate it. She didn’t have to wait long until she got a series of messages back, exclaiming how impressed they were, and how jealous. Noah added a quick ‘Be careful!’ which Jo tried to take in the spirit in which it was offered.
She was replying to him that she was always, always careful when a new message notification landed in her phone from Lorcan. Her stomach tightened, and not in a good way. She didn’t want to read it, afraid he would call her out on something else. But she also knew she wouldn’t be able to ignore it. It would niggle and gnaw at her until she dealt with whatever it contained. Jo Campbell had never been the kind of person to confidently delete people, and their messages, from her life.
She checked the time and saw she was meant to meet Ewan in the bar in five minutes. If she read the message straight away, she thought, she wouldn’t have time to stew over what he had written. She’d be consumed in her work and also, she realised, in trying to get a proper read of Ewan.
One minute, he seemed like a very decent, helpful person keen to give a new writer a leg-up. The next, she could feel something more from him. A presence or intensity. Maybe it was just those lustful feelings again – feelings that she knew she shouldn’t act on.
She opened the message from Lorcan and read.
Jo, I wanted to apologise for last night. I really was just there with Grandad. I’m not a stalker. I’m also not an asshole, even if I seem to have a habit of portraying myself that way. It’s important to me, and I’m not entirely sure why, that you know the real me. And the reasons why I didn’t come to Derry last year, and the reason I was cautious about Ewan’s offer. Clearly he has proved me wrong and you’re getting a lot from the experience. I’m genuinely really glad about that. If you would be willing to let me explain when you get back, that would be cool. If not, then all I can say is I’m sorry.
Jo slumped onto the bed and read the message again. She tried to absorb what he had said and figure out how she felt about it. Did she feel he was being genuine? Had she seen the real him? She thought of his smile. The easy way they had chatted. The way he had taken to Paddy and Paddy had taken to him. Everything she had come to know of him in the time they spent together had made her feel comfortable in his company. It had made her feel safe. He had made her feel safe.
‘Gah!!!’ she said, before she threw her phone on the bed and made a very conscious decision not to bring it down to the bar where she was meeting Ewan. She would leave it, and all thoughts of Lorcan, in her room and come back to them later.
With her notebook and pen, and her battered laptop under her arm, she left her room and attempted to switch to business mode. However, as soon as she walked into the bar, she saw that Ewan had ordered drinks for them and two glasses of red wine sat on the table, the rest of the bottle beside them. So much for trying to be entirely professional, she thought wryly.
Ewan did have his laptop open, though. And was wearing his glasses, his brow furrowed in concentration as he stared at the screen for a moment before typing furiously. She watched him from the door. It was almost as if she could see the cogs whirring and clicking in his brain, the story travelling from his head to his fingers. Jo couldn’t help but smile, but just as she prepared to cross the room and take her seat, she saw him sit back, shake his head and sigh loudly before slamming the lid of his laptop down. He looked wretched as he lifted his wine glass and took a long drink before taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose.
That was the moment when Jo felt it again. Those strange feelings she couldn’t quite put a label on. There was more to Ewan than he was prepared to show her.
‘Feel the fear and do it anyway,’ she whispered to herself before she decided just to go to the table and take what she had seen at face value.
When he saw her, Ewan smiled that same, soft, seductive smile he always did. All traces of wretchedness were gone.
‘Tough day?’ she asked.
She couldn’t be completely sure, but she definitely thought she saw him bristle and she wondered if she had somehow said the wrong thing.
‘No,’ he replied. ‘Why do you ask?’
Having decided not to mention the way he had slammed closed his laptop, she nodded to the wine glasses on the table. ‘You’ve made a start on the wine,’ she said, styling it out with a smile.
‘Ah!’ Ewan said as relief flooded his face. ‘You caught me. Well, it is a Saturday and I think we earned it. Also, I often find a glass or two helps oil the creative cogs.’
‘I’m up for giving it a go,’ Jo said and Ewan handed her the second glass before he lifted his own.
‘Here’s to a productive day all round. Your work and great collaborations.’
‘To great collaborations!’ Jo replied as they clinked their glasses together.
‘Right,’ Ewan said. ‘I suppose we better get started on your great novel. Today, let’s have a chat about character. I want to know all about your characters. Their backstories. Their motivations. Their favourite drinks or favourite TV shows. I want to know everything,’ he said. ‘Whether you think it’s relevant to the story or not. The more you know about your characters, the fuller they are, the more real they will feel. At the minute, Kate feels a little one-dimensional at times.’
Jo felt herself colour. It was as if she had just been given her homework back with red pen all over it. She tried to arrange her expression so that she didn’t look as if she was cringing so tightly internally that she feared she might pop a blood vessel.
Clearly she failed.
‘Don’t look so horrified,’ Ewan said. ‘Remember, you’re learning. We’re all learning. It’s very, very easy to write a character as one-dimensional. If you saw the first draft of McCreadie book one, you would see that I was a master of the art.’
She felt marginally better.
‘Remember this is all about making sure your story is the very best it can be. Get the character right and everything will fall into place. That’s my thinking anyway.’
‘Okay,’ Jo nodded, ‘so how do I go about this?’
‘Over more wine, and dinner later,’ Ewan said. ‘Let’s tease it all out, so when we leave the bar tonight, we feel as if Kate is walking alongside us. A fully-fledged, real, possibly little bit crazy, person.’
‘She’s not crazy,’ Jo protested. ‘Just a little misunderstood.’
‘That,’ Ewan said, with a smile, ‘is what they all say. So explain it to me. Tell me her true herself. Why is she so painfully shy? I mean, it’s a whole new level of shy, so much so that she can’t function outside of her very tiny bubble. We need to see more of how she deals with this. I feel we need examples, you know. It’s that old show don’t tell rule in writing.’