This chapter basically sets up Susan's life! Enjoy

-A Winter Chill


"Susan!" said a woman with light hair. She was carrying a folder of papers. Susan rolled her eyes, people should know better than to interrupt her when shes on the phone. She turned to the woman and put a finger to her lip, telling the girl to be quite. The girl was an intern at the office and didn't really understand most of the rules there.

"...thats just fine Mr. Baker... no, we withheld that story for a reason... if you want to talk to our chief editor why don't you phone him... well sir I am not here for that reason, again that is the chief editors job... alright... yeah... I understand your concern... good day Mr." Susan hung up the phone then turned to the intern. People were so crabby about what they read in the paper, it was almost to much for her sometimes.

"What is it," Susan asked the intern.

"Mr. Clawson said he wants to see you now," the intern said, "he sounded very upset." The phone rang.

"Tell him i'll be right over," she said, "Clawson times and publishers, this is Miss Pevensie speaking how can I help you..." The intern walked toward the main greeter in the office.

"Is she always so cold?" the intern asked the greeter who's name was Alison.

"Its a more recent thing," Alison said, "she use to be a very fun person to be around but lately she's very secluded." Alison had know Susan for two years, since she had started as an intern at the office. Susan had been quickly promoted, and though she was younger than most of the people working in the office, she was very well suited for the job. She had previously been a social light of London and had enjoyed her parties, but recently things were different.

"Why isn't she very nice anymore?" the intern asked.

"She lost her family in the big train wreck a couple of months ago," Alison said, "they had told her to go cover the story with another reporter and she broke down on the site of the wreckage when she realized what train it was. Since then she's just been very cold. Wouldn't we all be cold if we had lost that much?"

"I guess so," the intern said, "thats one of the saddest things I've ever heard."


"Miss Pevensie," Mr. Clawson said addressing Susan very firmly, "Clawson Times is doing very very well indeed since you arrived." Mr. Clawson was an older man in his 50s, who had been publishing books and newspapers for 20 years.

"Thank you sir," she said, wondering why she had been asked into his office just to hear about how well the company was doing.

"You are probably wondering why you were asked here," Mr. Clawson went on.

"I don't really have an idea sir," she said flatly.

"Well, you were asked here because our Clawson Publishers isn't doing so well." Susan was silent waiting for him to continue, "We lack good books coming to our presses. Our authors are all dry, our readers are tired of it! We need to appeal to the masses!"

"Where do I come in there," she asked quizzically.

"Do you know who we need to reach?"

"No sir."

"We need to reach young people and children at the same time," he said, "and you are just the person to help with that."

"How?" She asked.

"You are young yourself! Only you know what people your age like to read!" he said loudly, "I am making you one of our agents."

"What?" she said just as loudly, "I am an editor and reporter, not a book agent."

"Author agent to be exact," he said.

"But sir, I've never done that sort of thing before."

"Listen, Miss Pevensie," he said looking her in the eye, "I know you can do this! All the job is, is interviewing young authors and reading there works. Then once you find a good one you bring it here."

"I'll see what I can do sir," she said. Though she was not interested in the job, the money was worth her time.

"Thank you Miss Pevensie, I can always depend on you."


"...No sir... we are not interested in that type of story... you need to understand that is just not front page news... calm down sir... I am sure they would love to publish that story for you... yes call and tell me how many readers you get... good day sir." Susan hung up the phone, she was tired of hearing about people who claimed to have good stories. She was tired of smiling every time another reporter came in with something for her to approve. She could not wait for the clock to move so she could go home an sleep.

"Hey Susie," she heard a voice in front of her say. She had been staring down at an editorial she had been writing.

"James," she said looking up, a small half smile crept to her lips. He stood in front of her handsomely, like a knight in shining armor come to rescue her.

"I know, I am not sup-post to be here," he said, "but I wanted to ask you if you would like to come to the theater tonight with me." He smiled and held up two tickets.

"Not tonight James," she said apologetically, "I am so busy, I have so many papers to edit, and a new job and I just can't."

"Come on," he begged, "it will make you feel better." She looked back down at her papers. James had been trying to make her feel better since the accident, but none of it had worked so far. The theater reminded her of Lucy who had always enjoyed seeing the movies. Sports games reminded her of Edmund who had loved sports. Parties reminded her of when her parents use to leave her and Peter in charge of the two youngest. Everywhere in London gave her a painful memory.

"No James," she said softly, "it won't make me feel better. Nothing can do that now." She looked at him sadly.

"I understand," he said putting his hand with the tickets down, "but I'll be back!" She smiled slightly. Life was just getting so much harder to bear.