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right author! I mean, both you and I know that you are the only person who can pull this off, quality -wise. But to get Winchester’s to publish this and to pay an advance, you must go along with some conditions.’
    â€˜Oh indeed…?’
    â€˜Number one: you must sober up.’
    â€˜What utter rubbish! As if I was some sort of wino. What the fuck? There’s a hell of a difference between having a really good time now and then, and being a down-and-out wino. I like partying, but I’m not a bloody drunkard.’
    â€˜No, of course. But either way, you’ve got to be sober. You mustn’t drink a drop of alcohol while you are writing this book.’
    â€˜That’s just sick…’ he protests lamely, but bides his time before mounting any more indignant protests.
    â€˜Number two: you must rein in your material. This book could run to three thousand pages, just like that. You’ve got to agree to condense the material into two hundred and fifty typed pages – max. The idea is based on gathering together many genres in a single book, and the only way to prove that you’ve really succeeded is to make the book slim.’
    Titus looks at Astra and nods slowly. She seems resolute. She’s thought it through. A short manuscript is a lot more difficult, he thinks. But the book is going to be a first-class product, a masterpiece. He wants that, Astra wants that, and so does Evita. They all want it. Condition number two is good, he realises. Damned good.
    â€˜A slim book. That’s okay,’ he says, with earnestness in his voice.
    â€˜The third condition is that your work process must be one hundred per cent professional. For example, there’s got to be total confidentiality. Only you, me and Evita are going to know about this. You’ll write the book this summer and autumn. You and I will meet at regular intervals so that I can see how your work is progressing. We’ll never use email. Never, ever. And if you are sober and keep working away at it, we will pay the advance a bit at a time.’
    â€˜A bit at a time! Then it isn’t an advance!’
    â€˜Yes, the book won’t be published until next spring. We’re keeping a spot for it in the spring catalogue and we’ll book the printers for the week after New Year.’
    â€˜That’s a bit tight…’ murmurs Titus.
    â€˜Not if you work eight hours a day, five days a week!’
    â€˜But I can relax at the weekends?’
    â€˜Go boozing, you mean?’
    â€˜Cut it out. But perhaps have a glass or two of wine on Friday and Saturday?’
    â€˜No. You must be completely teetotal. Are you up for that or not?’
    â€˜That condition is totally sick… how can you write a bestseller in six months if you can’t relax between working bouts?’
    â€˜It shouldn’t be difficult, should it? You say you aren’t an alcoholic.’
    â€˜No, I’m not!’ says Titus emphatically.
    â€˜Well then, then there are no problems, are there? Are we in agreement?’
    Titus sees from Astra’s demeanour that there is no room for negotiation. Besides, he knows Evita Winchester’s methods very well. She is the one who sets up the rules of the game. Astra is just a pawn, albeit one made from the hardest marble.
    â€˜Let’s go for it,’ says Titus quietly.
    â€˜Sign here!’ says Astra and hands over a contract. Titus sees both Evita’s and Astra’s signatures at the bottom of the paper. He signs his own name next to theirs.
    At last, Titus is writing again.

CHAPTER 6
Deadlock
    A stra has barely left the flat before the doorbell rings again. Titus has just opened the fridge to see if there is a very last beer to be found there. Cold and refreshing, a farewell that must quench his thirst for a long time to come. It would be a waste to pour it away. But the fridge is empty. Damn it! He slams the fridge door and goes and opens the