The first step in that process, she realised at 3 a.m. on Sunday morning, while sitting in an empty bar drinking a bottle of beer with Noah and Libby, was to stop feeling weird about her aspirations. She had to own them, just like Auntie Mags had explained to her mum. She had to declare that she was a writer. She absolutely had to let other people read her work, even if it made her feel sick to contemplate it. She had to feel the fear, possibly even throw up, but do it anyway.

The soft fugue of intoxication – caused by both the cold beer she had been drinking and the feeling of sweet relief that washed over her when she took her shoes off and cooled her tired feet on the tiled floor – gave her the bravery she needed.

‘So,’ she said, interrupting a discussion about wedding favours, ‘I have something to tell you both.’

Libby looked at her, her soft blue eyes wide with concern.

Noah tilted his head. ‘Is this to do with you being so upset yesterday?’

‘Sort of, but not really,’ she said.

‘Are you sick? Please tell me you’re not sick?’ Libby blurted.

‘Oh God, no. I’m not sick,’ Jo said. ‘Noah said you had both been worried about me. There’s nothing to be worried about. But I’m going to put it out there now. I’m a writer. I’ve written a book. I think it’s good, but I’m not sure if anyone else will think it is. But the thing is, I want to have that book published. That’s my dream, just like the bar was your dream, Noah, and the bookshop was yours, Libby. So I’m going to do it. I’m not sure how, but I am going to do it. And, actually, Noah, you know how I’m owed about a million days off, I was thinking I could take the next ten days to work on that dream.’ Jo had no idea where that declaration had come from, and she most certainly hadn’t planned to say it before she did. But once the words were out there, she realised it wasn’t a bad idea at all.

There was a moment’s pause while Jo waited for their reaction. Even though she knew them both to be very supportive and lovely, she worried they’d laugh in her face, or tell her to calm down. It would be very unlike them, admittedly, but still she worried there’d be some manifestation of her inner demons.