‘But there are free drinks, courtesy of the local micro-brewery – we’ve Rupert to thank for that – so no one will mind if it’s not amazing.’

Laura sighed agreement. ‘And then the big interview or the panel the day after tomorrow.’ She frowned. ‘I do see that with free beer Rupert might go down all right, but a panel of authors? Instead of the big star name? I’m really not sure.’

Sarah was firmly philosophical. ‘There’s no point in worrying about it. You’ve done everything you can and set up a good substitute event. If people want their money back, well, we’ll give it to them.’

‘I know, but—’

‘Relax, most people will just go to the events they’re going to, if you see what I mean. The ticket sales have been very good. Lots of the people on the database you provided from the shop have bought tickets. And the competitions have been very well supported. Trust me, it’ll be fine. And Fen says there’s a real buzz locally. People stop her in the street and ask about it every time she goes to town.’

Aware that as an events organiser who specialised in weddings, Sarah was a professional soother of ragged nerves, Laura smiled. But she was still worried.

Just then the door opened and Fenella came in with a thermos jug of coffee and a plate of biscuits.

‘How are you two getting on?’ she said, handing the plate to them. ‘These are home-made. The Catering Ladies made them.’

Laura crunched into a lemon-flavoured biscuit. ‘Delicious! Couldn’t we just have these for the dinner?’

Fenella was just about to tell Laura off when her phone rang. She pulled it out of her back pocket and then walked across the room to where there was better reception. Sarah poured the coffee and she and Laura sipped and ate until Fenella came back.

‘You look as if you’ve either won the lottery or failed your driving test,’ said Sarah. ‘Which is it?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Fenella, looking from one to the other. ‘Sort of both.’

‘Tell us then!’ urged Laura.

‘Well, you know the music festival hasn’t been able to get the same amount of publicity as the literary one? Monica’s worked really hard at getting it attention but no one seems that interested in giving it any airtime. Maybe it’s musicians being even more flaky than writers . . .’

‘Cut to the chase, honey,’ said Sarah.

‘Well, Ironstone – heard of them?’ Fenella addressed this to Laura.

‘I may be a bluestocking,’ she said crisply, ‘but I haven’t been living in a cave for the past year. They are pretty darn famous.’

‘Sorry. Well, they’re willing to do a spot—’

‘But that’s amazing!’ said Sarah.