‘Do you think we should start without him?’ said Sarah, who had an anxious-looking woman at her side.

‘Definitely. He doesn’t deserve to be waited for.’

For some reason, Fenella moved forward and kissed Laura’s cheek.

Laura was in two minds whether to wait for Dermot in the hall or to sit down and start eating. She felt fairly sure Dermot would need directions at least once more so she decided to eat. She was seated next to one of the romantic novelists, Anne Marsh.

‘I must say, I adore Dermot’s writing,’ she said.

‘I really liked it at university,’ said Laura, frightened that she’d shown her feelings for Dermot far too clearly. She quickly steered the conversation away from him. ‘But I really love your books. How do you find writing a book a year?’

‘Well,’ said Anne. ‘I’d like it a lot better if every year had fourteen months in it, but lots of writers write far more than I do.’

‘And lots write far less.’ Her phone went and Laura smiled. ‘Far less . . . Excuse me a moment,’ she said before connecting.

‘How the feck do you get into this place?’

He was downstairs. Barely excusing herself, Laura ran down the stairs and started wrestling with the huge key. ‘I can’t open it!’ she called to Dermot.

‘Try pulling it towards you,’ he called back.

Laura did, and eventually got the key to turn. Dermot was standing there, looking completely disreputable in an old leather jacket and blue jeans. Her heart clenched at the sight of him. He strode in, dropped a bag at her feet and looked at her. ‘Did you dress up as a leprechaun just for me?’

‘Don’t be silly!’ she said crossly, desperate to avoid sounding coy.

She saw him look at her mouth and she felt breathless.

‘Are you all right? That key can be quite tricky,’ said Rupert coming up behind Laura. Laura wasn’t sure if she was pleased to see him at that moment or not. Rupert smiled and held out his hand. ‘You must be the famous Dermot Flynn. Welcome!’

‘I think you must mean infamous,’ said Dermot.

‘Either way, it’s good to see you. We started dinner, I’m afraid.’

Dermot, who had picked up his bag halted. ‘Dinner. Ah. What I need is a shower and a shave.’ Then he looked wickedly at Laura and mouthed, ‘And a shag.’

She blushed and looked away. Just for a moment she wanted to go with him to where they could be alone for a very long time. Then she mentally shook herself. She wouldn’t let him weave his spell on her again. She mustn’t.

‘I don’t want to meet everyone in all my dirt,’ went on Dermot, possibly completely unaware of the effect he was having on Laura.

‘You don’t have to—’ Rupert began.