‘No,’ said Fenella firmly. ‘It has to be you. You know his work, you won’t take the limelight away from him, you are the one.’

‘You know, there are at least two song titles in that sentence,’ said Monica, appearing behind Laura. ‘But Dermot is utterly lovely.’

‘You know, you’re sounding very Irish these days,’ said Laura. ‘Maybe you’re spending too much time with Seamus.’

‘Well, you’re right there,’ she agreed happily, ‘but isn’t it just darling of Dermot to let Seamus play behind him?’ Monica seemed to have forgotten Dermot was the bad fairy who had broken her friend’s heart.

‘He doesn’t know how bad Seamus is, obviously,’ said Laura.

‘He can’t be that bad,’ said Fenella.

‘And he knows him,’ Monica said. ‘Anyway, Seamus isn’t bad, it’s the band that’s awful, and Dermot probably knows exactly how bad – or even good – he is. It’s a great chance for Seamus.’

‘If you ladies would either like to take up some jugs of coffee, or get out of the way, we’d be very grateful,’ said one of the Catering Ladies.

‘Oh, sorry,’ they said in unison, and moved out of the way.

What she needed, Laura decided in the shower the following morning, was time to go away by herself with Dermot’s books and think up some really insightful questions. But she had a busy day ahead of her and even her time alone in the shower was limited; Monica needed to get into it.

‘Do you want toast and stuff here, or to go across to the house for a cooked breakfast?’ she asked a still-damp Monica a short time later. ‘I wouldn’t mind checking in with Veronica and Anne. I’m taking them to their event later.’

‘Won’t Dermot be there?’ Monica put a large dollop of something smelly on to her hair.

‘I’m allowed to see him, just not alone,’ said Laura primly.

‘Are you all right about doing it, though?’ Monica said, sculpting her hair with the product.

‘I would be if I had time to think about it, but I won’t have a moment to think up anything until about ten minutes before it happens.’

‘It must be extra hard for you, seeing that you’re sleeping with him.’

‘I’m not! It was just that time!’ She sighed. ‘But of course it is harder. I can’t treat him just like any other writer.’ And I don’t want to treat him like the man who’s broken my heart.

‘What you need to do is to work up a good old grudge against him,’ said Monica, plugging in her hair-dryer, unaware of the depth of Laura’s anguish. ‘Think how badly he’s treated you and get your revenge.’