The question surprised him but after a few seconds he was off, describing how bad he was at so many subjects, how he read Proust under the desk and that the whole school thought he was a complete idiot until he won an essay competition. He captured their interest, he made people laugh, and everyone loved him.

‘And now, something I always want to know about writers, what’s your Desert Island book? If you could only have one book, for the rest of your life, which one would it be?’

His eyes smiled and for a moment she was transported back to the day on the headland when they first really talked. ‘God, that’s a hard one. Fortunately, I’ve been asked it before and so I know the answer.’

She nodded, smiling.

‘It’s Ulysses.’

‘But many people find James Joyce impenetrable.’

‘He is, but infinitely rewarding.’

He went on to talk about Joyce for a little longer and then turned to Laura expectantly.

Her next few questions were as insightful as cocktail party small talk, she knew, but fortunately Dermot answered them brilliantly. Whether this indicated that he had at one time gone to a lot of cocktail parties, or that the small talk down at the pub in Ballyfitzpatrick was very similar, Laura didn’t know. Either way, the audience was in turn laughing hysterically or leaning forward to pick up every nuance.

Having warmed him up she felt she had to ask her proper question now. It was a slightly risky one but any interviewer worth his or her salt would have asked it. Another sip of water, a deep breath and she launched in, ‘So, Dermot, it’s been a few years since there’s been any new work from you. Would you like to tell us why?’

She felt like Judas and couldn’t look at him, but she could imagine the flash of anger he must have been shooting at her.

‘Actually, Laura’ – it sounded very personal, although it was addressed to the audience too – ‘there has been some new work.’

As she expected this answer – it was his usual front – she decided to push on. She’d got this far, she couldn’t back out now. ‘Well, have you got it with you?’ she asked.

‘I have.’ He picked up his folder and put it on his lap.

‘Oh.’ She certainly hadn’t been expecting this answer, but now came the real challenge. She was curious as to how he’d respond. ‘So then would you like to read some of it? Or shall we go straight to questions from the floor?’ she said.

‘Read!’ came the reply from the audience.

Dermot smiled at them and then turned back to Laura. ‘It’s a short story.’