Page 53 of Hate You to Love You

I nod and take a step forward towards her. The icy grass crunches under my feet.

‘You care, don’t you?’

‘This article matters as much to me as it does for you,’ I confirm.

Her eyes trail up slowly in my direction. ‘When I first met you, all you ever did was make mistakes and apologise for them. But seeing you on the floor of The National Gallery covered in hoisin sauce, trying to get my notebook back? Well, I’m starting to think I can trust you with my story.’

‘You can absolutely trust me.’

She gives me an appraising look. ‘So, where were we?’

‘The last time we spoke, you mentioned someone called Stephen. It sounded like he was important to your story.’

‘He is important to this story. If there’s anything I learned after all these years, it’s that you should never take the people you care about for granted,’ she replies.

‘Is that why you said this was more of a love story?’

‘Ah. But to understand that story you need to hear about Alastair first,’ she remarks. ‘The first time that I met him was in 2012, about a week after the second Golden Ruins book was released.’

I’m not sure whether she realises it, but she’s smiling.

‘Redhouse had invited me into the office to celebrate hitting number one both in Australia and the New York Times. Which I know sounds exciting, but do you want to know how I felt?

‘Overwhelmed?’

‘Terrified,’ she admits, nodding. ‘I had come to terms with the success of the first book – in many ways, it felt like lightning had struck. But the sequel took on a life of its own. I lost track of the devoted readers that I met lining up at festivals and bookshops. Suddenly the success seemed more tangible.

‘I walked out of that meeting with this sense of dread in my chest, worried that I’d never live up to the expectation of success that they were putting on me. I questioned whether book three would sell as many copies as the others. I worried if book two would be another flash in a pan, if readers would be disappointed with the story. And there, like a beacon of light as I tried to smile and be present, was Alastair O’Callahan.

‘He was waiting for the elevator. I’ll never forget the expression on his face as I approached him – he was smiling like he’d been waiting for me. He made some joke about being two books behind in the Golden Ruins series. I told him that I’d always wanted to read his books but I just didn’t have the time – which, in hindsight, was pretty rude of me. Then again, maybe he deserved it. He was always very assured about himself.’

I allow myself a little laugh. While he certainly didn’t reach the same heights as Claudia, Alastair O’Callahan was a force to be reckoned with. His debut literary novel about two brothers growing up in a poverty-stricken neighbourhood in Melbourne took the Australian book industry by storm.

‘In the elevator,’ Claudia goes on, ‘he asked me if I had big plans to celebrate. I confessed that all I wanted to do was sleep. We had three back-to-back Sydney events the following day alone, and with all the interviews I had lined up that week… well, I was overwhelmed. In that moment, I just wanted to slow down and do normal human things.

‘And Alastair understood that. He told me all he wanted to do was go get a bagel. So I turned off my phone, and we went to go get bagels. Don’t get me wrong,’ she says, pausing to reassure me, ‘I’ll forever be grateful for the life I have because of my fans, but for once it was nice to slow down and be normal.’

‘I thought you two were close because you bonded over writing?’ I say.

Claudia looks out across the park. ‘We did. While Stephen tried to understand my world as much as he could, Alastair knew everything I was feeling firsthand.’

‘Were you and Stephen still close in those first couple of years, after the series took off?’

‘Initially, yes. I’d never had someone celebrate and support me like he did. But when the second book came around, it was harder to make time to see each other. I had a gruelling publicity schedule and my deadline for book three was creeping up. I think we both accepted that we were growing apart.’

Her words make me think of my own friends, and my stomach churns. But I push the thought to the back of my mind. ‘I can understand why you connected with Alastair then,’ I say.

She nods. ‘Yes. We ended up going out for a drink that night, and it was the first time that I felt like I could talk about all the pressure I was feeling. Like someone truly understood exactly what was going on in my mind. Anyway, one drink turned into two, then three… we were there for hours.’

I should have been writing all this down, but I didn’t want to miss a word she said. The pieces were slotting into place.

‘He took me under his wing. Introduced me to other authors, made me feel like I was part of his community. It was addictive, intoxicating. And eventually, we started dating.’

I lean towards her. ‘Everyone always assumed you had a relationship with him because you were always spotted at events together. But this is the first time you’ve confirmed it.’

Claudia’s eyes are focused on the park below. ‘We loved each other, but we never had the urge to publicise it. These days, with everything that’s changed in my life, all I’ve been through and the people I’ve lost, it’s dawning on me that it’s not worth holding in how you feel about someone.’

Claudia’s tone has turned buttery and soft. It feels like a privilege to see this side of her.