‘Nonsense,’ Libby had said. ‘He just needs to meet the right person. He might have already met her, for all we know.’

Jo had shaken her head and laughed it off, but something inside had fluttered a little. Something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

As she checked her bag in the hallway before she left her house, she took a deep breath.

‘You’ve got this,’ her mother said, as she walked out of the living room and stood by her side. ‘I believe in you. Your dad believes in you. Your brothers even believe in you. And you know for a fact you have fans in Clara and Buttercup. Now we just have to get you to believe in yourself.’

Jo smiled. ‘I’m doing my best. This outfit helps.’

‘So it should. It’s stunning. You look amazing, love. I’m so very proud of you.’

Jo felt her mother take her hand and her heart contracted with love.

‘I love you, Mum,’ she said.

‘And I love you, Jo. But if you don’t get going soon, you’re going to be late.’

Jo looked at her watch. She had twenty minutes to get there in time to chat with Ewan McLachlan. The walk there normally took ten minutes, which, she figured, would give her ten minutes’ grace in case of last-minute hiccups. Her plan had been to get to the shop early enough to settle her nerves before she met Ewan. She would also need to have time for a wee as she was plagued with a nervous bladder.

‘Good luck, love,’ her mum whispered to her and pulled her into a tight hug as they stood in the hall together. ‘I’m sure he’ll love your work, but if he doesn’t, then just remember he’s just one person and that doesn’t mean that no one else will love it. We all like different things.’

Jo nodded. ‘I know, Mum. I’m not getting my hopes up. He’s probably only doing this because Libby asked him and it’s her shop after all. It might have been awkward if he’d said no.’

Her mother shook her head. ‘That’s not what I was inferring at all. People like him don’t give up their time unless they want to. It doesn’t matter whose shop it is or who asked him. Ewan McLachlan is in demand. I imagine he gets to pick and choose how he fills his diary. So have faith, young lady!’

‘I’ll try,’ Jo said. ‘But you’re right, I need to go or I’ll be a complete wreck by the time I get there and have no time to calm myself down enough to be able to form coherent sentences.’

She lifted her bag, kissed her mother on the cheek and ducked her head through the living room door to wave goodbye to Clara.