‘Now,’ he said, ‘we’re all here?’ He looked around eagerly. He obviously loved being in control of a room full of people.

Everyone nodded.

‘So, can we have a report on the music side?’

Several people began to speak. Bill held up his pad and waved it until they stopped. ‘Please, one at a time, and through the chair please!’

Johnny Animal looked confused for a moment and then said, ‘Do you want me to tell you about the music side?’

‘Yes please,’ said Bill, writing hard.

Laura wondered what on earth he could be jotting down and noticed similar wonder on Sarah’s face.

‘Not sure how to speak through a chair, but we’ve got some quite big names booked – or nearly booked. It’s always quite hard to get people to commit.’

‘Isn’t it just?’ muttered Monica, who received a frown from the chairman in reply.

‘So who have you got – Sorry . . .’ Rupert looked at the chairman. ‘Mr Chairman, may I ask which bands have actually agreed to come?’

‘The Caped Crusaders,’ said Johnny. There was silence when he obviously felt there should have been applause, or at least approving murmurs. ‘They appeared at Glastonbury last year?’

‘Oh yes,’ said a few people as their memories kicked in. Laura decided she was probably the only person there who had never been to Glastonbury. Well, her and Bill Edwards, anyway.

Johnny mentioned a few other bands and it transpired that the music side of the festival was beginning to take shape. Laura drew roses on her pad of paper, determined to apologise to Fenella as soon as possible, and say she couldn’t run the literary side of the festival, not if it involved speaking through the chair at meetings like this.

‘So,’ said Bill Edwards when he’d filled two sides of A4 with notes and Laura had quite a pretty pergola going, ‘what about the literary side?’

Fenella cleared her throat, looking anxiously at her blank pad and then at the chairman. Laura stopped doodling, feeling instantly nervous as if the question had been asked of her directly, even though she wasn’t involved yet and probably wouldn’t be.

‘Shall I do this bit?’ said Sarah, much to Laura’s relief.

‘Oh please do,’ said Fenella, subsiding into her chair, also with obvious relief.

‘As you all may or may not know, this was Fenella’s idea and it’s brilliant! So many people wouldn’t go near a music festival but add big literary names and they’ll come in droves. Think of Cheltenham, Edinburgh, Hay-on-Wye.’

‘I’d rather think of Glastonbury,’ muttered Johnny Animal, and received a dig in the ribs from Fenella.

‘It’s a huge potential market,’ went on Sarah, ‘but what we need is a sponsor.’ She looked round the room, smiling in a way that invited people to volunteer. ‘Bill?’ She looked expectantly at the chairman.