And then the tone quietened right down and the lead singer, the girl with the flower behind her ear, began to sing ‘Smoke Gets in Your Eyes’. She followed this with something equally sad and romantic, sending Laura into an unaccustomed mood of nostalgia. She began to think about her own love life, now long in the past. There had really only been one possible serious contender. Why hadn’t it ever got any further than a couple of drinks and a snog that didn’t go on long enough for him but was as much as Laura could stand? Either she was too young, or she just hadn’t loved him. She could barely remember his name.

While her mind was free-ranging she found herself thinking how one thing subtly changing, such as her getting notice from her job, could set in train other small changes. She still had her job, she wasn’t out on the street, but since hearing the news that she was going to lose it, she had spoken to Eleanora far more freely than she would have done normally, and she had been asked to help run a literary festival. Then, coming here with Grant, instead of just listening to the band, she had got up and danced and really enjoyed herself. There was probably a scientific name for it, like the theory that said a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil caused a hurricane somewhere else very far away. Perhaps she should just accept her fate and go with the flow, as Grant would say. Going to the festival meeting didn’t mean she actually had to agree to help run it, after all.

‘Are you all right, chook?’ asked Grant, when the band had gone back into a dance number and people took to the floor once more with abandon. She was still staring thoughtfully at the stage.

‘Oh yes. I’m fine.’

‘Another drink?’

‘Would you think I was awfully sad if I said I just wanted to go home?’

For once Grant accepted this without comment but in the cab back to her flat he said, ‘You’ve gone all thoughtful on me. Have you been thinking about the literary festival thing?’

‘Yes. Yes, I have.’

‘And?’

‘I think I’m going to go to the meeting, anyway.’

‘Good for you! You see? A bit of Lindy Hopping and you’re a changed woman!’

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Laura was wearing her interview suit, which was now a little tight over the hips. It was the day of the meeting. The entire bookshop was rooting for her, possibly anxious, she suspected, that she would back out. Henry had given her the afternoon off, ordering her to use it wisely, and Grant had offered her the use of his car. Now, Grant came round the back of the shop with her, to help her get it out.