Laura went back down. Only the hard-core coffee drinkers and smokers were left: Dermot, Eleanora and Rupert, who’d blagged a roll-up from Dermot and was looking guilty.

Feeling like a prefect disturbing a midnight feast Laura made her announcement. ‘But Sarah will send them away if you don’t want to speak to them, Dermot.’

‘I think you should see a select few,’ said Eleanora, ‘and then the story comes from you, instead of being a lot of invented rubbish.’

‘Should I send for Max Clifford?’ asked Rupert, only half joking. ‘Or don’t we need a publicity person? We have got Sarah, after all.’

‘So what shall I tell her?’ asked Laura, having turned from one person to another, no longer feeling like a prefect but like a child who isn’t really allowed to join the adults.

‘OK, I’ll see a few, until I get bored,’ said Dermot, getting up and giving Laura a wicked grin. ‘Don’t tell Fenella Rupert had a fag, will you?’

Laura tossed her head and tutted, reverting to prefecthood with gratitude. ‘I won’t need to tell her, she’ll smell it a mile off.’ Then she gathered up some dirty crockery, leaving Dermot to face the press.

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Laura didn’t have time to worry about how Dermot got on with the journalists. She had to take Veronica and Anne to their venue, where they were doing a joint talk, followed by a signing. Then the two authors were adjudicating a short-story competition that they had already judged, before going to a local café for a ‘Tea with Two Authors’ event. They were good sports and didn’t mind working so hard, but a great deal had been asked of them and Laura felt a bit guilty. When she’d suggested them as adjudicators for the competition, she hadn’t realised it would mean running from place to place in quite the way it had worked out. Fortunately the cakes at the café were extremely good and Laura insisted they be allowed to eat a couple before the questions began again.

She was just contemplating a Jap cake, a wonderful old-fashioned confection involving coffee icing and crushed meringue, when her phone rang. She went outside to take the call. It was Fenella.

‘Sorry to bother you, but Dermot asked me to call.’

‘That’s OK, but he could have phoned me himself. I know I said I didn’t want to speak to him, but I only meant—’

‘It’s not that. Dermot’s been giving interviews all day. Eleanora is thrilled! She doesn’t know why he’s being so obliging, but never mind that. He hasn’t got time to choose readings for his event tonight and wonders if you have any ideas?’