Freda gestured for her to take a refill and said, ‘Now will you have some more toast? Half a slice doesn’t seem very much.’
‘Thank you,’ Joely replied, and helping herself to another half from the basket she set it down on her plate and bit into the first one to experience yet another heavenly assault on her taste buds. ‘This jelly is delicious,’ she told Brenda, dabbing crumbs from the corner of her mouth. ‘Is it your own recipe?’
Brenda beamed as she passed Freda a large pill organizer with a different colour for each day of the week. ‘My grandmother’s,’ she confided. ‘We’ve got a secret ingredient that stays in the family, but it makes all the difference.’
‘We’re very lucky to have some,’ Freda declared. ‘Brenda’s jelly sells out before she’s even made it, so I feel very fortunate that she keeps a jar or two back for me.’
‘Course I do,’ Brenda smiled fondly. ‘Can’t have you going without, can we? Now make sure you get it right, taking these pills can be a complicated business.’
Freda’s expression was droll as she obediently popped the medication and washed it all down with a mouthful of juice. ‘Do either of your parents suffer with the same affliction?’ she asked Joely. ‘It’s very common amongst us older people.’
Surprised by the question, Joely said, ‘I’m pretty sure my mother’s blood pressure is OK, and my father’s no longer with us.’
Freda immediately looked sad. ‘I’m so sorry to hear that,’ she said. ‘Was it recent?’
‘About eighteen months ago, but we still miss him.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you do. It’s never easy when a loved one passes. Do you have brothers or sisters?’
‘A brother, Jamie. He lives in Dublin with his wife and two children, so we don’t get to see him as often as we’d like.’
‘Dublin?’ She sat with the word or notion of it for some time, before suddenly continuing. ‘That’s a shame, although I’m sure it’s a perfectly nice place. Is he older or younger than you?’
‘Older.’
Freda nodded and fell silent again as though this was information that needed deeper consideration, or perhaps her mind had moved to other things. Whatever, she seemed not to hear when Brenda said,
‘Mrs D is always interested in people’s families, aren’t you, dear?’
When Freda didn’t respond Brenda put a finger to her lips as if to say they wouldn’t go any further with the subject for now. ‘All right, so I’ve got a lovely leek and potato soup going here for your lunch,’ she announced, turning back to the bubbling pot on the Aga. ‘There’s plenty of crusty bread in the box and a nice chunk of local cheddar if you want it. Mrs D isn’t vegan, but she’s very strict about where the dairy products come from. We don’t look much further than North Devon for supplies and always from farms we know treats their livestock well.’
‘You haven’t asked Joely if she’d prefer to have meat,’ Freda pointed out. ‘If you do,’ she said to Joely, ‘I have no objection, but …’
‘No, really, I’m vegetarian,’ Joely assured her. ‘I care about animals too, and the planet.’
Freda smiled. ‘Of course, the planet,’ she echoed and seemed to sink into the timeliness of the reminder. Then suddenly banging her hands on the table, she said, ‘I think we’re going to get along well. I told Brenda we would. Didn’t I say that, Brenda?’
‘It’s exactly what you said,’ Brenda confirmed. ‘Mrs D and Edward carried out a careful search before settling on you,’ she informed Joely. ‘They had to be sure it was the right person or it wasn’t going to work.’
Joely said, ‘Edward?’
‘My nephew,’ Freda explained. ‘He did most of the liaising with my publisher, and when they presented me with a shortlist I had a feeling right away about you. Naturally, I had to read some of your work first, and I’m delighted to say I was most impressed, particularly by the fiction you’ve helped to produce. It wasn’t possible to tell how much of the books were ghosted – my guess is quite a lot – and if I’m right about that it means your talent for capturing your client’s style is exceptional. Not once did I feel a stranger’s presence creeping into the prose, something that always makes me shudder, nor were there excessive amounts of sentiment in the autobiographies. In fact, in my opinion, they were far better served by the kind of subtlety and restraint that I’m certain was your careful hand, because the official authors I’m thinking of are not known for those qualities.’ Her smile was roguish and infectious. ‘So my dear,’ she continued, ‘I say that you have precisely the right sort of skill to undertake a memoir such as mine.’
Pleased by the praise, and even faintly embarrassed, Joely said, ‘I’m glad you think so, and I’m looking forward to starting—’
‘But you’ve already started,’ Freda interrupted in confusion. ‘I take it you read what I left for you yesterday?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Joely assured her, not wanting to think of how this might now go if she hadn’t, ‘and I was left wondering why you need me when you’re writing it so well …’
‘It’s only the beginning. There’s a long way to go, and beginnings are always easy. You are to be my objectivity. I want you to tell me what you thought of those first pages, but not in the way you’ve just tried, using flattery and self-modesty, and not now. I’m tired after my early start this morning so I’m going to lie down for a while.’
Joely watched her get up from the table and hold her coffee mug out for Brenda to refill. In a softer tone she said,
‘I have some documents I’d like you to look through and sign if you’re willing. You’re probably familiar with NDAs – non-disclosure agreements?’
Though Joely certainly knew what they were this was the first time she’d been asked to sign one. ‘I’ll be happy to,’ she replied, thinking of what she’d already discussed with Andee and though it wasn’t much at least Andee was someone she could trust to keep things to herself.
‘The forms are there,’ Freda said, nodding towards a buff file at the end of the table. ‘When you’re done, give them to Brenda and she’ll send them off to the lawyer.’ She checked the time. ‘Let’s say we meet back here at one-thirty for some soup before we get started. Now, if you’ll excuse me …’
After she’d disappeared through a door in the corner Joely looked over at Brenda who was once again busying herself at the Aga as if nothing unusual had happened – and in truth Joely couldn’t say that it had. What was more unusual, now she came to think of it, was the fact that she hadn’t been asked to sign an NDA before. It would make sense if the client was anxious to stop her going to the press before he or she was ready to reveal all they had to tell.
Maybe they’d instinctively trusted her, and with good reason, for it had never occurred to her to try to make money out of selling someone’s secrets.
‘Can I get you more coffee?’ Brenda asked, coming to clear Freda’s side of the table. ‘It’s still hot.’