‘Eleanora was looking for something else and it came up on the Internet. It’s Irish music, poetry, food, stuff like that.’

‘It sounds great!’ said Monica, full of enthusiasm. ‘But who has a literary festival in winter?’

Fenella ignored her protest as she addressed Laura. ‘You’ll just have to go there and ask him to come here,’ she said. ‘If that’s the only way we’ll get him.’

‘Fab idea!’ said Monica. ‘I’ll come with you. We’ll have a great time!’

Just for a second, Laura was tempted. Monica was such fun, her confidence and zest for life were infectious. And it was her singing that had made Laura do some serious thinking. For whatever reason, she felt a bond. Then she got a grip on reality. ‘You don’t seem to understand—’

‘But you’ve arranged loads of literary events at your bookshop?’ said Fenella, sounding indignant.

‘Yes,’ Laura tried to explain, ‘but when I did that, I wrote polite letters via the publisher or agent. It was the publicity department who decided whether or not they came and when they came. It was all down to them. I didn’t have to visit the writers in person!’ She turned to Tricia for support, feeling things rapidly sliding out of her control again. ‘Who are his publishers? Get them to ask him.’

‘He’s been out of contract for years, and if he doesn’t respond to Eleanora, who’s a tough cookie, believe me, he wouldn’t take any notice of the publicity department.’

‘That’s my aunt you’re talking about,’ said Fenella, ‘but you’re right, she’s very tough.’

‘So you need to go to Ireland and bring him back,’ said Monica. ‘Like a Canadian Mountie who always gets his man.’

The ridiculousness of the situation got to Laura and she started to giggle. ‘I’m not a Mountie, or even a Labrador. I don’t do fetching.’

‘But it would be such fun!’ went on Monica, laughing too. ‘I’ll come with you! It’ll be a riot!’

Fenella seemed to sense Laura teetering; going anywhere with Monica would definitely be different. ‘Oh God, thank you so much!’ Shamelessly, she played the guilt card. ‘I can’t tell you how much this means to me. And we’ll obviously pay for you to get there . . .’

‘But supposing I go and he refuses to come?’ Although still chuckling, Laura was feeling the pressure badly.

‘At least you’ll have done your best,’ said Tricia.

Monica struck an attitude. ‘Good God, girl! Do you think he’ll be able to resist? Irish men are all awful womanisers. He’ll be made up to do anything for us!’

‘Just say you’ll give it a go,’ said Tricia. ‘Maybe Jacob Stone would still sponsor the festival if you’ve done your absolute best.’

Fenella shook her head. ‘Don’t think so. He’s a man who means what he says.’