There was a moment’s silence and then Eleanora patted Laura on the shoulder. ‘Good for you! Now where’s the bar?’

At first the students were wary of sitting near Eleanora, but gradually they crept nearer and found she didn’t bite. By the end of the evening she’d bought them all drinks and, with a little prompting from Laura, offered to read anything they sent to her.

As Laura walked a rather intoxicated Eleanora back to the room where she was staying the night, she said to her, ‘I don’t know why I offered to do that. My slush pile is quite big enough already.’

‘But these will be quality slush! I hand-picked them myself and their books will be a lot better when they’ve done more work.’

‘All right, darling, I trust you. And Dermot trusts you too, which is very interesting.’

As Laura had always thought of herself as trustworthy, she didn’t think it was that strange. But Eleanora, given her slightly drunken state, possibly wasn’t thinking clearly.

The students all left immediately after breakfast, many of them saying they felt thoroughly inspired. Eleanora had left before breakfast, saying she was visiting an old friend on the way home, and so suddenly it was just Dermot and Laura.

‘Well, I don’t know what to say,’ said Dermot.

‘That must be a first!’ Laura teased him, trying to sound lighthearted, although that was the last thing she felt. She remained puzzled by his behaviour over the course. He seemed to genuinely enjoy having her there, but apart from the odd almost brotherly look, she couldn’t read him properly and felt completely confused by his attitude towards her. She was also sad because she hadn’t managed to make the most their time together. She suddenly felt less confident – so much for her wanting to seduce him. A university car park wasn’t the most romantic of settings. And he wasn’t striking the pose of someone about to make a move on her as he stood there with his hands in his pockets looking anxious to get away. She told herself she’d see him again at the festival, but would they ever have a minute alone? She couldn’t rely on it. And she had to face the possibility that he just didn’t see her in that way, if he ever had. She was good old helpful Laura.

‘Irishmen are famously loquacious,’ she added brightly.

‘Not this particular Irishman, at this particular time.’ Then he put his hand on her cheek. ‘You’re a very sweet girl.’

She blinked to disperse her sudden tears. He was being very kind and gentle but it was only affection that she detected in his voice. ‘Right then. See you in July at the festival.’

‘Oh God, the bloody festival! I’d forgotten all about that.’

‘Well, let me remind you!’ she said, with feigned strictness.