any more novels. Once that word gets round we are going to have what is euphemistically called a cash flow problem.'
'We're certainly going to have to find someone to replace James,' said Sonia. 'Bestsellers like that don't grow on trees.'
'Nor lupins,' said Frensic and retired to his office.
All in all it was a bad day. The phone rang almost incessantly. Authors demanded to know if they were likely to end up in the High Court of Justice, Queen's Bench Division, because they had used the names of people they were at school with, and publishers turned down novels they would previously have accepted. Frensic sat and took snuff and tried to remain civil. By five o'clock he was finding it increasingly difficult and when the Literary Editor of the Sunday Graphic phoned to ask if Frensic would contribute an article on the iniquities of the British libel laws he was downright rude.
'What do you want me to do?' he shouted. 'Stick my head in a bloody noose and get hauled up for contempt of court? For all I know that blithering idiot Jamesforth is going to appeal against the verdict.'
'On the grounds that you inserted the passage which libelled Mrs Humberson?' the editor asked. 'After all it was suggested by the defence counsel '
'By God, I'll have you for slander,' shouted Frensic. 'Galbanum had the gall to say that in court where he's protected but if you repeat that in public I'll institute proceedings myself.'
'You'd have a hard time,' said the editor. 'Jamesforth wouldn't make a good witness. He swears you advised him to jack Mrs Humberson up sexwise and when he wouldn't you altered the proofs.'
'That's a downright lie,' yelled Frensic. 'Anyone would think I wrote my authors' novels for them!'
'As a matter of fact a great many people do believe just that,' said the editor. Frensic hurled imprecations and went home with a headache.
If Wednesday was bad, Thursday was no better. Collins rejected William Lonroy's fifth novel Seventh Heaven as being too explicit sexually. Triad Press turned down Mary Gold's Final Fling for the opposite reason and Cassells even refused Sammy The Squirrel on the grounds that it was preoccupied with individual acquisition and lacked community concern. Cape rejected this, Seeker rejected that. There were no acceptances. Finally there was a moment of high drama when an elderly clergyman whose autobiography Frensic had repeatedly refused to handle, explaining each time that there wasn't a large reading public for a book that dealt exclusively with parish life in South Croydon, smashed a vase with his umbrella and only consented to leave with his manuscript when Sonia threatened to call the police. By lunchtime Frensic was bordering on hysteria.
'I can't stand it,' he whimpered. The phone rang and Frensic shied. 'If it's for me, tell them I'm not in. I'm having a breakdown. Tell them '
It was for him. Sonia put her hand over the mouthpiece. 'It's Margot Joseph. She says she's dried up and doesn't think she can finish '
Frensic fled to the safety of his own office and took his phone off the hook.
'For the rest of the day I'm not in,' he told Sonia when she came through a few minutes later. 'I shall sit here and think.'
'In that case you can read this,' said Sonia and put a parcel on his desk. 'It came this morning. I haven't had time to open it.'
'It's probably a bomb,' said Frensic gloomily and undid the string. But the package contained nothing more threatening than a neatly typed manuscript and an envelope addressed to Mr F. A. Frensic. Frensic glanced at the manuscript and noted with satisfaction that its pages were pristine and its corners unthumbed, a healthy sign which indicated that he was the first recipient and that it hadn't gone the rounds of other agents. Then he looked at the title page.
