Laura felt sick. ‘No I didn’t know that. That’s brilliant news.’ It was but she couldn’t help feeling like a discarded shoe. She’d been useful and now she wasn’t needed any more. And why hadn’t he told her? The fact that he’d hardly had a chance to tell her and that that was mostly her fault was small consolation. Maybe that’s what he’d been trying to tell her on the phone. She’d deleted a couple of messages before she’d even read them. She asked herself now if she’d rather have Dermot, writing and happy but away from her, or with her and blocked. At first it seemed like a Faustian pact she was glad she didn’t have to make, but the more she thought about it, in the grand scheme of things his happiness seemed more important than her own. That was love for you.

‘We were saying – weren’t we, Rupert? – that we must have a party with everyone who’s been involved in the festival. Once we’re not doing back-to-back weddings. We could plan what we’re doing for the festival next year.’

Laura laughed, grateful for the diversion. ‘How you can even think of another festival? This one isn’t over yet.’

The last two events felt a bit anticlimactic to Laura. Everyone was very tired and although the Somerby hospitality flowed as ever, even Fenella was losing her enthusiasm for it a bit. But at last it was just Laura, Rupert and Fenella, back in the kitchen.

‘So, have you got any plans?’ asked Fenella.

‘What? After writing all the thank-you letters, you mean?’ Laura managed a cheery laugh. In fact she had no idea what she would do now. She thought she might go and stay with Grant and look for jobs and flats in his area.

‘Mm.’ Fenella was looking at her rather intensely and Laura felt it must be because she was yearning to have her house to herself again.

‘Well, I thought—’

‘Can I offer you a job? You can have your converted cow shed for as long as you need it.’

Laura got up and put her arm round Fenella’s shoulders. ‘You’ve been brilliant and are so kind, but . . .’

‘Books are your thing?’

‘Told you,’ said Rupert. He was doing the crossword as was his habit.

‘I thought it was worth a try,’ said Fenella, ‘but if you won’t work for me, you must ring Eleanora. She said you were to if you seemed jobless and at a loose end. Are you?’

Laura laughed. ‘I suppose I am, really.’

‘Then she’s got an idea.’ Fenella said this as if the idea might be on the wackier side of totally insane.

‘Oh, hasn’t she gone to the States with Dermot?’