‘Yes! He’s amazing! I know he’s driving everyone mad by not allowing his name to be used as part of the publicity, but he’s really – nice.’ ‘Nice’ was such a woefully inadequate way of describing him, she had to smile.

Seeing the smile, Fenella regarded her friend doubtfully. ‘I know he’s awfully attractive and all that, although of course I haven’t met him. But are his books actually readable?’

Laura put her hand on Fenella’s arm to emphasise the strength of her feelings. ‘Do yourself a favour and read them. Really. They are truly wonderful.’

‘I’d better anyway, if he’s our star attraction.’ Laura was disappointed Fenella wasn’t enthusiastic about her task, but reading was so subjective, she reminded herself. ‘And it’s nice to be able to boast about difficult books you’ve read. Now, anything else you think you’ll need?’

When Laura had insisted that there was nothing, several times, Fenella said, ‘You do think Dermot will turn up, don’t you?’

‘Why? Why do you ask?’ Laura was suddenly worried. Dermot had said he’d come; she assumed he would.

‘It’s just something Eleanora said. She was on the phone the other day and warned me not to have all my eggs in one basket, festival-wise. She seemed to think he might let us down.’

Laura considered. Dermot could be very kind and she didn’t think he would say he’d come and then not turn up. But could she be sure? ‘I’m sure it will be all right.’

But although she reassured Fenella, she had doubt in her own mind now.

Slowly the literary side of the festival began to take shape. Eventually writers confirmed they could appear, and pre-festival events began. A local writers’ circle was writing short stories, the best to be read at the festival and put into a book. An art group was illustrating chosen works from some of the confirmed authors. There was going to be an exhibition and as many as possible would decorate the village hall that was going to host one of the events. A popular children’s poet was hosting a poetry slam, so poetry workshops were going on in all schools as well as energetic story writing. Most of the local schools had already submitted theirs and Laura’s retired teachers were making their first selection. The Knitters and Embroiderers’ Collective was making a bedspread out of knitted or embroidered squares that was going to be raffled one evening. Fenella was already determined to win this, even if it meant buying all the tickets herself.

But the publicity was severely hampered. The fact that Dermot still wouldn’t let it be announced that he was appearing meant that many people who might well have sponsored something weren’t taking the festival seriously enough. They’d been promised a big name and, so far, no big name had been given to them.