The public nod in silence. Mumble.
‘I am sober,’ says Titus in a low voice but close to the microphone. ‘And I can work.’
The book-fair public has never encountered anything like this before. Is it an AA meeting?
Titus looks at Eddie dangling between the two policemen. His matted black hair hangs over his eyes and the blue and orange streaks look tired. He squirms like a worm.
‘I have written a book that will be published in the spring. It is going to go well. But best of all is that more books will follow. And it is Eddie X who has made it possible for me to look ahead again. Eddie, your methods were unorthodox but they worked in the end. I am not a mess any longer. I am free, I want to work and I am grateful.’
Titus looks at Astra, Evita, Lenny, Malin, Ralf Rolf and Christer Hermansson, who are standing below the stage. They are watching him expectantly. Then he looks Eddie in the eye and takes a deep breath.
‘Now I only want to say one thing to you…’
The public is extremely attentive. The air in the hall stands still. Eddie stares at Titus.
‘Eddie, I am going to do everything in my power to ensure you come through this in one piece. I promise you that.’
The public don’t know what it is about but they applaud cautiously because they think that what Titus is saying sounds good. Brotherly love, so to speak. Titus turns towards them and says in a serious tone:
‘Love, that is the most noble form of energy in the universe. Love is the only source of energy that grows the more it is used. So if you want this planet to survive – love each other! EXPLOIT LOVE!’
Cheers and laughter. Warmth returns to the Book Fair once again.
There is more whispering than ever at the get-together party on the Winchester Publishing stand. The rumour about what has happened spreads rapidly and a lot of people sneak a look at Titus Jensen. Today he feels comfortable with those glances. It doesn’t matter what they say. He knows who he is.
It is nice that it is all over. Sure, it is fun to be at the Book Fair, but most of all Titus longs to get home to his flat and his computer. His own computer, not the Winchester one with the breathalyser lock. He is looking forward to a long winter with hundreds of wonderful working days.
Evita puts her hand on Titus’ arm. She leaves it there quite a while. Titus gets a tickling feeling in his tummy.
‘Titus, I must tell you about a fantastic idea that the marketing department has come up with.’
‘About The Best Book in the World? That sounds exciting…’
‘We want the book to get on the bestseller lists in several categories, don’t we?’
‘Yeah, right… Fine by me…’
A waiter passes them and Evita snaps up a glass of champagne and a plate with cheese squares stuck on cocktail sticks. Titus takes a glass of juice.
‘The content is just fine,’ Evita goes on. She raises her glass in a sort of toast to the air and takes a sip of her bubbly. ‘You have covered everything in the manuscript. It is exciting, useful, helps the reader develop, and all of that. But now they have come up with a brilliant idea for the cover.’
‘Okay?’
Evita takes a bit of cheese and raises it to Titus’ mouth. His mouth opens like a reflex. Evita smiles, pleased.
‘Oh, it’s such a great idea! Listen! This is how it goes: we’re going to have two different covers. But on the same book. You see, the front and back covers are going to be upside down in relation to each other, so however you turn the book you will see a front cover. A stroke of genius, don’t you think?’
‘Err, yeah well,’ says Titus not really understanding, and takes a gulp of juice. ‘Tell me more.’
Evita takes a deep breath and adopts her sales-conference voice.
‘First we have the thriller cover. Imagine a mysterious little girl in a white dress in a nasty hospital setting. The era is unclear, but it’s in the past. Associations to ritual experiments, or possible trade in organs. And above the hospital scene hovers an unpleasant person in a gas mask, like an evil spirit. An all-seeing Dr Mabuse or Kaiszer Söze. In an old-fashioned mask against mustard gas.’
‘But why, why that? There isn’t any little girl or a gas mask mentioned in my book…’ Titus attempts.
‘That doesn’t make any difference,’ Evita interrupts him, irritated. ‘There is surely nothing more unpleasant than small innocent girls and anonymous men in gas masks? No, that really is the most unpleasant combination one could imagine. We’ve checked that with focus groups. So people are going to buy it.
And then perhaps we throw in a Gothic cross too, they can be really horrible.’
‘But…’
‘Ah-ah-ah! Sssh…’
Evita puts a finger over his mouth to silence Titus’ protest. With her other hand she strokes the top of his hand. She puts a couple of fingers under his shirt cuff. A long way in. Caresses his arm quickly but soft as silk. Titus gives a start. He tries to think clearly and is just about to fire off one of many questions whirling around inside his head when Evita goes on with the unofficial sales conference.
‘And then we have the other front cover. The self-help book. A beautiful couple running across a summer meadow. Slim, of course, thanks to your ABC Method. Perhaps we’ll have a raised title in silver or golden foil to create associations to major prizes. Dazzling, fertile smiles. They look horny in a sort of jolly Danish lightweight porno way, but above all they are happy and successful. What do you think?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t really understand. My covers don’t usually have a picture, but just the title clearly visible. Black, grey, white, small print. Perhaps an edging. Slightly French literary cool… sort of…’
‘Yes, exactly, that’s why! We are launching a new Titus Jensen.’
She takes a cocktail stick with cheese and puts it into Titus’ mouth.
‘Tasty?’
‘Mmmm…’
‘The best part of this is that the bookshops won’t know which cover to display on the shelves and in the window. That means they will place several copies side-by-side! So your book will get a lot of exposure. It will be the best visual effect in the world. The Best Book in the World plastered all over the bookshop. People will be falling over to buy it!’
‘The Best Book in the World after The Best Book in the World after The Best Book in the World…’ says Titus dreamily and paints the image before him with his hand.
‘But, best of all… we’re going to have some knockout blurbs.’
‘Blurbs?’
‘Yeah, you know, quotes from a celeb on the front cover. And you know what, I’ve got a really great hold on the permanent secretary of the Swedish Academy. And now it’s time to make use of that!’
‘You’re kidding… you don’t mean…?’
‘Yeah, it’s rather fun. But I’m not kidding. He’ll do it. He coiled himself around my little finger some years ago. And did it all by himself. And now, I’ve only got to ask him nicely, my little permanent secretary. Isn’t it wonderful?’
She puts another cube of cheese into Titus’ mouth. Nice taste. Very nice. It is working out okay, this.
Evita leans over towards him. She breathes her warm breath into his ear. Blows out air down his neck.
Her décolletage approaches his eyes. He thinks he recognises that bosom. Is it her? Yes, indeed, it is!
A tremor runs through him.
She whispers into his ear. Snarls.
‘You look good in white…’
The warm air from her nose is like a whirlpool inside his ear, like a fizzy tablet for his brain. Her hand rests on his arm. For a long time.
Snarl.
Growl.