‘I met that Grant? Lovely boy. He told me.’ She put down her fork. ‘I am a bit of a fag hag, I must admit. But I never know if it’s because I’m stylish or wear too much make-up!’ Eleanora was off on one of her tangents again.

Neither Gerald nor Laura felt able to help her here, so kept silent. ‘Anyway,’ Eleanora went on, ‘that’s neither here nor there. I’m determined to put you two together.’

The two in question exchanged glances, aware they lacked the moral fibre to withstand Eleanora once her heart was sent on something. ‘I don’t think—’

‘I don’t want . . . The thing is,’ Gerald went on more decisively, ‘I can’t afford to pay a full-time editor and I must have someone in Ireland.’

‘And I need full-time work and I don’t live in Ireland.’ Laura borrowed determination from Gerald with gratitude.

This time the glances they exchanged were almost triumphant.

Eleanora was having none of it. ‘Goodness me, how negative you both are! These are tiny details! You’re made for one another!’

When the waiter offered to refill her wine glass, Laura accepted gratefully.

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Eleanora didn’t give up. She told them both how good Laura would be. ‘Think about that writing course! You got through those manuscripts, knew what was wrong, how to put it right. You were brilliant. She was, Gerald, Dermot said so.’ She sipped her wine. ‘I even took on one of the poor dears, though in this market . . .’

‘Are you talking about “The” Dermot? Dermot Flynn?’ Gerald cut through what could have become a long lecture on ‘the State of Publishing Today’. He turned to Laura. ‘Did you work with him, then?’

‘Yes.’ She couldn’t think of much else to say on the subject. It was just as well she didn’t want the job, she was doing very badly in the interview. Of course, had the job been in England, she would have been much more enthusiastic.

‘And her organisational skills are second to none. The festival was fantastic! All down to Laura.’

‘And Fenella, and Sarah and Rupert and countless others,’ Laura said.

‘You got the star to appear.’

‘What star?’ asked Gerald politely.

‘Dermot, of course. She went to Ireland and brought him back, kicking and screaming. Didn’t you read about it in the trade press? Quite an amusing little article.’

This was news to Laura and not particularly welcome, but if Gerald hadn’t read about it, others might not either. He was now really interested. ‘Is he out of contract? He must be, surely, he hasn’t produced anything new for ages.’

Eleanora laughed. ‘Don’t even think about it. Way out of your league. Very, very expensive.’

‘But he’d turn my little Irish publishing house into a giant.’