Jo couldn’t help but smile too. Libby’s parents were lovely, lovely people. Although they didn’t live or work on the lane, they were very much considered honorary Lane residents. There was rarely a day when one or both of them wasn’t seen in the bookshop. They’d be the very best people to take over.

‘Anyway,’ Libby said. ‘Speaking of babies. I got your book last night. I’m surprised you can’t see the bags under my eyes.’

Jo swallowed down the wave of nausea that washed over her. With all the drama that morning, she had pushed all thoughts of her book to the back of her mind, but now here was Libby, standing in front of her, telling her she had read some of it.

‘Remember, be honest,’ Jo said, inwardly hoping that Libby wouldn’t be too honest.

A flush of colour started to rise up Libby’s neck to her face and Jo thought that the nausea might just soon turn into full on vomiting.

‘Oh God, you hated it,’ she muttered. ‘Look, forget I showed it to you. Say nothing. We’ll just move on and pretend it never happened.’

‘No!’ Libby protested. ‘It’s not that at all. I’ve not finished it, but that was only because I fell asleep. It’s good, Jo. I mean, really good. I don’t understand why you’ve been hiding your talent away.’

‘You don’t have to say that just because you know me,’ Jo blushed, sure Libby must have been trying extra hard to make her feel good about herself.

‘I’m not just saying that,’ Libby protested. ‘It’s a great read.’

Jo felt a strange mixture of pride and extreme embarrassment at the compliment. Irish people don’t take compliments well and this was especially true of Jo. She didn’t know what to say. Part of her wanted to run away. Part of her wanted to hug Libby. A really big part of her wanted to pump her friend for more information. Wanted to know what Libby liked about it. What she thought of her characters. And the setting. And the pacing. Was the pacing okay?

But Jo did none of those things, she just stood, mute, not sure whether she was going to laugh or cry. Before she did either though she noticed the look on Libby’s face and felt the nausea rise up once more. Libby was looking decidedly shifty.

‘Look, I did something,’ Libby said. ‘And I don’t want you to be mad, because I think it was the best thing to do and I’m not sure you’d ever do it yourself.’

Jo stood, scared to asked what Libby had done but knowing that she needed to know. And now.

‘Noah agreed it was a good idea,’ Libby said, her voice quiet and cautious.