Nine Perfect Strangers

She picked up the empty KitKat wrapper and licked it, hoping for fragments of chocolate. How was she going to get through this setback without sugar?

‘Frances?’ said Alain.

‘My back hurts a great deal,’ said Frances. She blew her nose hard. ‘Also, I had to stop the car in the middle of the road to have a hot flush.’

‘That sounds truly awful,’ said Alain with feeling. ‘I can’t even imagine.’

‘No you can’t. A man stopped to see if I was alright because I was screaming.’

‘You were screaming?’ said Alain.

‘I felt like screaming,’ said Frances.

‘Of course, of course,’ said Alain hurriedly. ‘I understand. I often feel like screaming.’

This was rock-bottom. She’d just licked a KitKat wrapper.

‘Oh dear, Frances, I’m so sorry about this, especially after what happened with that horrendous man. Have the police had anything new to say?’

‘No,’ said Frances. ‘No news.’

‘Darling, I’m just bleeding for you here.’

‘That’s not necessary,’ sniffed Frances.

‘You’ve just had such a bad trot lately, darling – speaking of which, I want you to know that review had absolutely no impact on their decision.’

‘What review?’ said Frances.

There was silence. She knew Alain was smacking his forehead.

‘Alain?’

‘Oh God,’ he said. ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God.’

‘I haven’t read a review since 1998,’ said Frances. ‘Not a single review. You know that.’

‘I absolutely know that,’ said Alain. ‘I’m an idiot. I’m a fool.’

‘Why would there be a review when I don’t have a new book out?’ Frances wriggled upright in her seat. Her back hurt so much she thought she might be sick.

‘Some bitch picked up a copy of What the Heart Wants at the airport and did an opinion piece about, ah, your books in general, a mad diatribe. She kind of linked it to the Me Too movement, which gave it some clickbait traction. It was just ridiculous – as if romance books are to blame for sexual predators!’

‘What?’

‘Nobody even read the review. I don’t know why I mentioned it. I must have early onset dementia.’

‘You just said it got traction!’

Everyone had read the review. Everyone.

‘Send me the link,’ said Frances.

‘It’s not even that bad,’ said Alain. ‘It’s just this prejudice against your genre –’

‘Send it!’

‘No,’ said Alain. ‘I won’t. You’ve gone all these years without reading reviews. Don’t fall off the wagon!’