METAFICTION

Chapter 4. MADDIE: THE SHARPEST SHARPE?

THE RAIN HAD cleared by the time Eddie Sharpe got back to his North Cambridge, Richmond Road semi-detached three-bedroom house. He lived alone, but his extremely bright 12-year-old granddaughter often popped in after school to visit him. And he had only been home half an hour when he heard the familiar slam of the front door, and seconds later witnessed his granddaughter charging enthusiastically into his living room ...

"Granddad, you look very tired," said Eddie's twelve-year-old granddaughter, Maddie Sharpe. "Would you like a cup of tea?" Maddie gave Eddie a short comforting hug from behind his armchair where he was slumped to the point of almost dripping off it.

"Sure," murmured Eddie. "What brings you here this time?" he called out at Maddie's back as she headed briskly out of the living room door, her blonde shoulder-length ponytail swinging left to right.

"Need your internet connection, Gramps," she chirped without turning back. Eddie then just about made out Maddie's finishing words as they drifted away to the kitchen, "Ours is acting up again."

Eddie looked out of his living room windows. Though the late afternoon sun was making inroads against the slowly clearing grey clouds in the sky, nothing could make inroads into the burgeoning clouds crowding Eddie's mind. He opened a window to allow a bumblebee that had engaged in a head-butting competition with the impenetrable glass of the window, to escape its unwinnable match.

"Off you go! Taste the freedom! In the story of your life Bertie the Bumblebee, this is your deus ex machina moment. I am your saviour from the machine of this realm we call reality. I wonder if I will ever find a saviour. I have a particular dread that I might one day have need one."

Maddie soon returned with a tray carrying two cups of tea and a side plate piled with digestive biscuits, which she placed on a coffee table within reach of Eddie's armchair.

"Who were you talking to, Gramps?" Maddie looked over at Eddie who remained at the open window looking out forlornly at his small front garden, which was in need of some serious gardening.

"A poor miserable creature in need of help."

"Oh, Mrs Bailey. Is she still moaning about the traffic? There's hardly any traffic on your road. She's a loony if you ask me. She should try living on the Mill Road. Students, drug sellers and everything live on that street."

Eddie closed the window and slumped in a weary heap on his comfortable armchair, unwilling to correct Maddie's false supposition.

"Well, what's up, Gramps?" asked Maddie, carrying over her cup of tea and a couple of biscuits to the settee, where she sat and opened up her laptop.

"Oh, my meeting with my publisher didn't go down too well."

"By which you mean it went down badly, I take it." Maddie said all this without looking up from her laptop, as she was busy logging onto Eddie's home network.

"Yeah. The meeting went down as catastrophically as the Titanic, if truth be told." Eddie took a sorrowful sip of his tea.

Maddie looked up. She gave Eddie a comforting smile, but her eyes showed a measure of concern. "What happened then?"

"My latest manuscript? The one you told me was okay. Well, my main publishing agents agreed with you up to a point. They thought it was okay—for the wastepaper bin!"

"Oh dear. Sorry to hear that, Gramps. I thought the writing was excellent. Perfect sentences and all that. But I suppose if there's no actual story ..."

"Yes, well, anyway, they've given me one last chance. My next book has to be a winner, like my first. Or that's it." Eddie took another sip of his tea before adding, "I'm all washed up, Madds."