‘Sarah Stratford,’ said the woman who’d produced the badges. ‘I’m here because Fen thought I’d be useful. Not sure if I will.’

‘You’ve been useful already,’ said Fenella. ‘Producing name badges.’

‘If we could press on,’ said Bill Edwards, sitting down hard on any inclination to chat.

‘Sorry,’ muttered Fenella. Laura felt the man was being officious. It was Fenella’s house, and her festival, she should be allowed to at least open her mouth.

‘I’m Dylan Jones, representative of Alcan Industries.’ He sounded as if giving presentations to hundreds of people was all in a day’s work for him and he made Laura feel she should have heard of Alcan Industries, although she hadn’t.

‘Monica Playfair,’ said the self-confessed ‘girly’. ‘Here to liven things up!’ She made it sound as if her role was vital. She raised her eyebrows conspiratorially towards Laura who allowed herself to smile back.

‘I’m Tricia Montgomery, I’m here on behalf of Eleanora Huckleby.’ Tricia sounded confident and smiled at the table full of people. ‘She couldn’t come.’

Laura couldn’t decide if she was glad Eleanora was involved or not. And why hadn’t Eleanora mentioned her assistant was coming? Still, if she didn’t have to work with her directly it might not be too bad. Tricia seemed a lot less daunting than her boss.

‘I’m Fenella Gainsborough. Eleanora Huckleby is my aunt, and this festival was my mad idea to begin with.’ Fenella said all this in a rush, as if confessing her sins at a self-help group.

‘Jacob Stone,’ said the man on Fenella’s right. He just stated his name and didn’t try and engage with his audience.

‘I’m Rupert Gainsborough – also responsible for the mad idea.’ Fenella smiled across at him, obviously grateful for his support.

It was her turn now. She cleared her throat and thought of Grant, egging her on. ‘I’m Laura Horsley and I’m not sure why I’m here, really, but I was asked to come, so I did.’ Although she knew that Grant would have been ashamed of her, she couldn’t really say that Eleanora Huckleby had felt she could make a contribution.

‘Johnny Animal. I’m in charge of the music side of it. Getting artists, stuff like that.’

‘Stage name,’ muttered Rupert.

Well, he may have a silly name and be very young but he had an air of huge confidence about him, thought Laura.

Now everyone had introduced themselves they began chatting again. Sarah dished out pads of paper; people who hadn’t done so before wrote on their nametags. Bill Edwards looked around, fearing he’d lost control already, coughed and tapped his water glass.

‘May I declare this meeting open?’ he said.

‘If you must,’ muttered Johnny to Laura and she smiled.