She laughed at him, sipping her tea. ‘Not now, no. I’ll go back to the shop for more supplies. Will it still be open?’ She wished she’d bought more last time, but she hadn’t realised just how hungry he’d be.

‘Oh yes, it’s open all hours in summer. Have you got money? My wallet must be somewhere.’ He got up and started staring around. ‘God, the place is clean!’

‘Yes. And don’t worry about money. Eleanora gave me lots of euros. It’ll all come out of your earnings eventually.’

He sat back down in his chair, genuinely horrified. ‘Don’t say that, for God’s sake. When did I last earn her a brass farthing?’

‘Don’t sound so melodramatic. Your first two books still sell very steadily, as you must know.’

He shook his head. ‘I always forget about that. I think in some ways I try to forget I ever wrote those damn books.’

Laura pursed her lips and put her head on one side. ‘I don’t think so.’

He regarded her for a long time and then sighed deeply. ‘God, I’d kill for a cigarette.’

‘And would it be me you’d kill?’

He narrowed his gaze. ‘Tell you what, if you don’t buy me some fags immediately, it definitely will be you I kill.’ Then he smiled.

‘Oh Dermot,’ she said, oozing sarcasm to cover up her melting stomach, ‘you surely must have kissed the Blarney Stone, coming out with such seductive phrases. Surely the birds would come down from the trees to do your bidding.’

‘Listen, if you don’t want to find out, with demonstrations, exactly what the Blarney Stone and meself have got up to, I’d go to the shop in double-quick time.’

If Laura hadn’t been so hungry, and so aware that her feelings for him must be so blatant, she might have been tempted to call his bluff. But she didn’t. She gave him a schoolmistress’s smile, picked up her bag and went shopping again. It was only when she was halfway down the overgrown path that she realised there was no earthly reason why he couldn’t have gone to the shop himself.

Her reappearance in the shop so soon caused an almighty stir; she had not been mistaken for a holidaymaker before, everyone had known exactly who she was and whom she was shopping for. It meant she had to tell everyone, several times, exactly how fine he was, and how hungry. She filled two wire baskets with supplies and then just in time remembered. ‘Oh, do you know what sort of cigarettes he smokes?’

The man behind the counter reached behind him. He produced a packet of tobacco and some papers. ‘He rolls his own but he gave them up in March.’

‘Well, he said he’d kill me unless I got him some cigarettes so maybe I won’t remind him.’