When a publisher first wrote to me offering me a book deal after my first Sunday Times column, I assumed it was a vanity publisher, keen to make a fast buck. This morning I had an email that I read four times before I was convinced it wasn’t my best friend playing a trick on me.
I had mentioned in my column in yesterday’s Sunday Times that we might need a friendly sheikh to help with our housing problems. What do I wake up to? An email from the best friend of the property manager of the sheikh. Amazing. “Call him,” he said. “Tell him you’re a friend of mine.” I didn’t need telling twice.
I have called him, and he sounds totally charming. He runs all the properties on the Corniche which is exactly where we want to be. I am trying not to get too excited but he has asked me to call him at 9am tomorrow when he is in the office to let me know what he has available.
So tomorrow is a big day; the girls start school and we might, just might, finally have our happy ending, or even our happy beginning….
Copyright: Helena Frith Powell 2008