Interview with the Devil: Resurrection by Harbron Michael

Author:Harbron, Michael
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-05-12T00:00:00+00:00

The party was in full swing in the Grand Ballroom, a space that screamed opulence with its sleek, modern design and panoramic views of the city skyline. The irony of hosting the launch of a book that had sent ripples through religious communities in such a bastion of corporate wealth and excess wasn’t lost on Joseph.

“Eleanor Rigby” played somewhere in the distant corner of his mind as he looked around, taking stock of everyone he had ever known (and quite a lot of people he did not know) assembled in this majestic hall.

Joph stood with champagne in hand, his lithe body adorned by a silver suit. He wore silver spectacles to match. He nodded and raised his glass at Joe when he noticed that Joe was staring at him from afar. Joe raised his own glass and nodded back.

His heart stung with pain as he looked at the table where Lilly should have been. In her stead, there was Shaun with a girl on each arm. One of them was the under-the-desk intern. The other seemed to be his receptionist. He was laughing like a madman, his false teeth shining in the orange-yellow glow of the chandeliers, his spit flying from his mouth like acidic venom. The rest of the literary dignitaries from Brooke and Bower were not in the least amused by his show of boisterousness.

Writers wove in and out of the crowd, their strides confident, their chests broad. These were their people, people they knew and were on a first-name basis with. Famous writers, and not so famous writers. Then the in-betweens.

A lot, if not all, of them were writers on the roster of Brooke and Bower while others were invited or had been brought along as plus-ones. A real who’s who of men and women of the craft.

Packed though the ballroom was, Joe moved swiftly across it, shaking hands, kissing cheeks, exchanging pleasantries, trying to keep his face humble as people adorned him with praise.

“And I thought I knew how to write about God and the Devil. Bravo, Mr. Banbury. Bravo.” Dan Brown shook Joe’s hand with both his and gave them a warm squeeze. “This ought to keep the Vatican on their toes for a good decade or two.”

Joe had made sure to invite Bart and Tasha, just as he had invited Mike and Amy. As he would discover soon, it turned out that Amy, dressed in a sleek, red, backless dress, had the brilliant idea of inviting their parents.

They sat at the friends and family table, food laid out in front of them uneaten, their drinks untouched, his mother in a beige blouse and long skirt, and his father in his Sunday best. Joe knew where he had seen this suit before. In their wedding pictures.

His heart sinking at the sight of his parents, his brain fumbling as he thought of what to say to them, Joe slid out of view and hid behind Stephen King.

Luckily, this little distraction had helped him avoid the gazes of his parents.

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