Chapter 130: Two Rooms, Eighty Seats
I could fill my launch table by emptying twelve other shops, which made the answer no.
On Monday, the distribution allocation filled Lantern & Tide's small office screen.
The event request remained four hundred copies.
Two hundred and forty were available from the south-west warehouse without disturbing confirmed regional orders.
The proposed solution recalled one hundred and sixty from twelve independent shops, reducing each allocation according to its current unsold quantity.
Each shop had accepted stock when the national chain withdrew.
Their allocations were not spare copies merely because Bristol had produced a longer queue. Each sat against a confirmed account commitment.
My distribution manager explained that a recall could complete within five working days.
The stock would arrive before the launch and simplify on-site sales.
The other shops would receive replacements after the next ordinary replenishment cycle, with no guaranteed date before their local promotions.
That meant their readers would finance my launch photograph with empty shelf space.
I rejected the recall in the allocation system.
The refusal protected all twelve confirmed shop quantities. Distribution recorded that no launch demand could override them without fresh shop consent.
It also left Lantern & Tide one hundred and sixty short.
The events manager placed a sample bookplate on the desk.
It carried my name, the Saltmere title and no Marian Crowe reference.
I could sign one hundred and sixty plates before the event.
Readers without an available launch copy could reserve a later warehouse copy with a signed plate inserted after quality checking.
Their books would be posted or collected after replenishment.
The reservation page would state clearly that delivery was not same-day.
No one would be charged event postage without seeing it before payment.
My publisher priced the extra fulfilment and tracked-post option. The estimate included packing, plate insertion and failed-delivery handling.
The cost was higher than moving existing stock.
I agreed to charge the author-events budget rather than deduct it from the twelve shops' accounts or old shared royalties.
The two hundred and forty physical copies were divided between both sessions, pre-existing shop orders and ordinary counter trade.
No session received a promise that every attendee could buy immediately.
The one hundred and sixty reservations would open only after the physical event allocation was recorded.
That prevented the same copy being sold twice.
The distribution manager created separate stock and reservation codes. A daily reconciliation would prevent reservations exceeding the fixed shortfall.
Neither code touched the old Marian Crowe account or either opponent's inventory.
Lantern & Tide tested the customer wording on its booking page.
It distinguished an event seat, an in-shop copy and a signed-plate reservation.
Cancelling one did not silently cancel or create another.
The events manager then confirmed staffing for the second eighty-seat session.
Both sessions received the same reading length and question time.
The waiting list offered places in timestamp order after accessibility needs already declared were preserved.
Readers who declined remained eligible for the streamed discussion and reservation route.
At 14.28, the shop approved the second event.
Distribution authorised two hundred and forty copies for Lantern & Tide.
I signed the first bookplate as the reservation form went live.
It was slower than pulling books from twelve shelves and more expensive than pretending stock was limitless.
It preserved the regional route that had made the launch possible.
The final event plan entered the publisher and bookshop records with the cost approval and delivery wording attached.
The recall rejection remained attached to the twelve protected allocations.
The bookplate queue stopped automatically at one hundred and sixty.
Before closing the meeting, the events manager opened the submitted reader questions.
The list had been deduplicated and stripped of contact details.
The highest-voted question was not about the seven calls, the coast or my new protagonist.
It was five words long.
“Who really wrote Marian Crowe?”