Tara fiddled with her phone until Keith and the assistant had gone inside and then took several deep breaths, in through her nose, out through her mouth. She could smell her own perfume. Had she put on too much?

You can do this, she told herself. Just be cool.

Then she opened her door and crossed the car park on wobbly legs.

Inside the tiled foyer, under the scaffolding and plastic sheeting, it was a full turnout – Rob Lloyd, Catherine from the Citizens Advice, obstructive Peter from Planning, Alice from the parish council, and a few faces she hadn’t seen before, including a red-faced woman in a ceremonial chain who she assumed was the Mayor, though they hadn’t met before. Rob was already deep into introductions, working his way down the line as if it were a royal garden party, or a very strange wedding.

As Tara got nearer she could hear Rob’s enthusiasm, and the low tones of her dad being charming and modest. ‘… really exciting … everyone very keen to talk about plans … chance for real community interaction. Alice, you’ve already spoken to, of course …’

‘Alice! How nice to put a face to the voice at last. Thank you for emailing those plans so the team could get across this straight away – put our guys to shame with those notes!’ Keith shook Alice’s hand and Tara guessed he must have given her his full charm beam too, because a pink blush immediately spread across Alice’s open face and she glanced at the floor with a shy smile.

Oh, Alice, she thought, with a protective shudder. No, don’t, honestly.

Rob carried on introducing and Keith carried on shaking hands and chatting, and a similar effect spread from person to person – apart from Peter, who retained the supercilious semi-sneer he wore to make himself look like a proper politician, and not a retired electrician. There was a discernible air of excitement in the foyer, and Tara had to admit it came from her dad: Keith seemed to emit what Hero would probably call positive energy, reflected in the reactions he was getting.

But with each introduction, each smile, each handshake, Tara’s heartbeat quickened a little more. Don’t mess this up. Don’t let them down. Don’t let me down.

They’d reached the last person – ‘Sue Salter, our redoubtable Countryside Recreation Officer!’ – and Tara was about to make herself known when someone bustled in from the toilets, shaking the water off her hands, and joined the line with a meaningful sniff. Tara felt herself recoil: it was Diane.

When Keith reached Diane, she pre-empted the introduction and the offer of his hand with a brisk, ‘I already know Keith.’

‘Oh?’ said Rob, surprised.