I'm Normally Perfect (re-upload)

Chapter Forty-Seven

The week preceding my first signing was spent converting nervous energy into arranging things and unpacking and receiving calls from Simon what felt like every five seconds. Apparently the man knew every book reviewer in the United Kingdom and had been talking to the lot. Thus far the reviews were shining. Oh God. The better the reviews and the more good reviews came in the chirpier Simon got on the phone. By the Thursday before I was to go down to London he was practically singing my name when I picked up the handset. Of course, by that point there had already been raves in various papers and a bit of one of the stories had been read by Josie Lawrence on Radio Four as book of the week. Alex and I had listened to it in her room, me with my head under a pillow and Alex laughing at me and saying it was quite good.

Once it was over Alex patted me on the bottom, 'I don't think you're going to get your wish for no one to show up at your signing, sweetheart.'

I groaned, 'That's why you must be there. You must.' I replaced the pillow on the bed and threw myself on Alex.

She chuckled, 'I promise I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it for the world.' She kissed me on the top of the head, 'Now you need to get plenty of rest tonight so you'll be fresh and lovely for all of those autographs you'll be giving out tomorrow.'

The thought made me want to weep. Alex gave me a sleeping pill. I stared at it in my palm and she said, 'I know you don't like them, but I think this once will help.'

I took it and curled up in her bed, there was no way I was sleeping alone that night. That pill worked well. In no time I couldn't keep my eyes open and found myself being pulled down into the mattress before I could even snuggle with Alex.

Next morning I awoke and in a muzzy-headed way made my way downstairs to find that Alex had already gone to work, though she'd left a note on the kitchen table saying when she'd be back and ordering me to eat something. I couldn't get comfortable anywhere and wandered round the house aimlessly for a few hours, played with the dogs, bowled a few sets (I was really bad), played half of a game of billiards, found two secret passages, fiddled with the train set (it won't tug three of my books up the stairs, but it can handle two) and waited for Alex to come home and tell me everything would be all right. I was standing by the door when she arrived home just after one. She seemed surprised to see me planted there, 'Anything the matter?'

'Nope. Ready to go?'

She chuckled, 'Let me freshen up. Take the girls out, will you?'

As Alex made her way upstairs I herded the dogs outside and made sure they did their business, as we wouldn't be back from London until late. I drove to the station in Banbury and we began our journey. I kept a death grip on Alex's hand the entire time on the train. Alex tried to get me to look out the window at the autumnal colours, but I couldn't think about anything except the fact that in a couple of hours I was going to be the centre of attention and if Simon was to be believed it was going to be an absolute herd of people. When I'd asked him about it he said I probably should read something of my book before signing copies, but I had no idea what to read. I'd looked to Alex to pick out something that would go well and she'd chosen several passages and had me read them to her. That had made me feel a bit better, though I was still nervous about reading to people who didn't know me. What if they hated it? Would they boo? Did people actually do that? It seemed terribly uncouth. By the time the train pulled into Paddington I was in a right state. We hired a cab to the bookshop, and stepped out of it about half an hour before the reading was to begin. Simon was already there, making certain everything was in order. When he'd told me he was going to be attending the signing I asked if it was typical of editors to go to these things and he said he simply wanted to be certain everything ran smoothly. I think he wanted to be sure I didn't mess up of all of the good press we'd received. My success was his success, after all. He beamed when we walked in and crossed to us, arms wide,