And then the great man himself arrived, flanked by admirers and press alike. Their eyes met briefly and Laura saw in his a tender concern that told her everything she felt she needed to know: the story was about her. The reason he’d wanted to talk to her in private was so that he could explain it to her and she hadn’t let him. He probably knew she was in love with him. She wouldn’t have been the first down that particularly rocky road, after all. And with her naivety, it was pretty inevitable, given what they’d shared. He, being basically kind, didn’t want her hurt. But her feelings were not returned. She just wished he hadn’t put it all into a story and read it out so publicly. He of all people should know the value of privacy. And if he felt that way why had he even joked about a ‘shag’? She was so confused.

But she smiled at him, every cell of her body trying to convey that it was all right, she wasn’t in love with him, didn’t think the story was about her. In fact, she wanted him to know that everything with her was fine and dandy. She was asking a lot from her smile, she was well aware, but she did her best.

Then, making a heroic effort, she moved her way through the crowd until she met him, halfway to his signing table. ‘Well done, Dermot!’ she said bravely. ‘That was fantastic! I hope you don’t mind if I go back now. I’ve got a splitting headache.’ The fact that this part was true lent veracity to the rest of it. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

He looked back up at her, frowning a little as his pen hovered over a book. ‘Will I not see you later?’

Laura shrugged. ‘Oh yes. When I’ve got rid of the headache I’ll come over. Probably.’

She didn’t wait to see if he’d accepted this, she just fought her way out of the room and then the cinema, hoping she’d come across someone who could take her home.

She spotted Reg, the driver who’d brought Dermot to the event. She knocked on the window. ‘Any chance of a lift back to Somerby? Dermot will be ages yet. I’ve got a frightful headache.’

He wound down the window. ‘Jump in. I’ll have you back in no time.’

So far so good. She’d take aspirin, drink hot milk and go to bed and worry about having to face Dermot, possibly over breakfast, in the morning. She’d cross that bridge when she came to it.