‘Still, we’ve got our night out to look forward to,’ said Grant, who had once brought Laura home to meet his aunt so he could appear to have a girlfriend.

‘Yes, and my mother will send me home with a fruit cake because in her heart she thinks I’m still a student.’

‘Hmm. I might have overdosed on fruit cake over Christmas, but bring it anyway.’

Her parents greeted her in their usual understated way. They were pleased to see her, but her monthly visits did disrupt their routine rather.

‘Hello, dear,’ said her mother, kissing her. ‘Supper won’t be long. You go and watch the news with your father and I’ll call you when it’s ready.’

‘I’ll set the table for you, Mum,’ said Laura, feeling a wave of love for her mother. She might often feel like a cuckoo in the nest, but she knew her mother had done her absolute best for her. It wasn’t anyone’s fault that Laura had always been so different from her parents.

‘You don’t mind eating in the kitchen, do you?’

As she filled a glass jug with water Laura wondered why on earth her mother might think she’d mind. It was a ‘kitchen-diner’ and they always ate there.

‘I hope I’m not so much a guest as you feel we should eat in the dining room.’ Laura found the place mats in the drawer and distributed them.

‘Well, we don’t see you all that often.’

‘I know and I’m sorry, but it’s not always easy for me to get here.’

Her mother pursed her lips. ‘I’m sure you could get a job in a bookshop a bit nearer home.’

‘Well, yes. Actually I’ve got a bit of news. But I think I’ll wait until Dad’s here – save me going over it all twice.’

‘I can’t believe you’re gallivanting off to Ireland when you should be looking for another job!’ her father had declared a little later, putting down his knife and fork to lend emphasis to his words.

‘This literary festival could be a great opportunity,’ Laura said quietly. ‘You’ve always said I was wasted working in a bookshop. They were impressed by my knowledge of contemporary literature.’

This only set her father off on a familiar rant about English degrees and a ‘knowledge of contemporary literature’ being a complete waste of time. Her mother hadn’t been too thrilled by it all either. Laura had left as soon as she possibly could, glad she’d arranged to meet up with Grant later.

Grant loyally took the opportunity to reiterate what a chance this was for her.