You may have read detective stories, but here’s your chance to meet a real detective. Daniel Hawthorne spent many years working at Scotland Yard in London before he became a private investigator. He works now as a special consultant on many high-level investigations, the most recent of which has been turned into a book (published later this year) by best-selling author Anthony Horowitz, who also wrote the Alex Rider series. The two of them will be interviewed by States member Colin Matheson and there will be plenty of opportunity for questions from audience members with a taste for true crime.

Maïssa Lamar

We are very pleased to welcome Maïssa Lamar from France, where she has won great acclaim as a performance poet. Born and educated in Rouen, she writes and performs in Cauchois, a dialect spoken in the east of Normandy, which has led Le Monde newspaper to describe her as ‘a leading light in the revival of Cauchois culture’. Maïssa is also an associate professor at the University of Caen and has published three collections of poetry. Her performance at the Alderney Summer Festival will be conducted partly in English and partly in French with English subtitles.

So that was it: an unhealthy chef, a blind psychic, a war historian, a children’s author, a French performance poet, Hawthorne and me. Not quite the magnificent seven, I couldn’t help thinking.

There were just three of them waiting for us at the Globe Bar and Kitchen when we finally arrived. George Elkin was presumably at his home in Crabby. Elizabeth Lovell and her husband, Sid, would be crossing by ferry from Jersey. But Marc Bellamy, Anne Cleary and Maïssa Lamar were already sitting round a table, chatting away as if they were old friends. It turned out that they had all come down on the train ahead of us, along with another young woman, Kathryn Harris, who introduced herself as Marc’s assistant.

It’s an incredible thought that there are more than three hundred and fifty literary festivals in the UK. I’ve been to many of them. Appledore, Birmingham, Canterbury, Durham . . . It wouldn’t be difficult to travel the entire country from north to south, working my way through the alphabet at the same time. I think there’s something wonderful and reassuring about the idea that in the rush of modern life people will still come together and sit for an hour in a theatre, a gymnasium or a giant tent simply out of a love of books and reading. There’s a sort of innocence about it. Everyone is so friendly and I’ve hardly ever met a writer – no matter how big a best-seller – who’s been difficult or stand-offish; on the contrary, many of them have become good friends. Somehow, when I think of literary festivals (even Hay-on-Wye, where this is very rarely the case), the sun is always shining.