‘Damn, I forgot the cake. Here.’ He handed her a plastic container that was full of wedges of fruit cake. ‘What time is your ferry again?’ he asked as she took one, and she knew her perfect day was over.

She told him.

‘I’ll get you back in plenty of time to leave. And I will come to your literary festival, without your sacrifice, if you don’t tell anyone about it – any press, I mean. Not until the last minute, anyway. I don’t want to have to battle with all the publicity.’

Laura found herself close to tears. ‘Thank you,’ she said huskily, hoping he would think it was the cold wind that was making her eyes water.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

‘Don’t mind the hounds, they get out of the way eventually,’ said Fenella, opening the door to Somerby wide.

‘Hello, hounds,’ said Laura, wondering why she was coping with Fen’s pack perfectly well, although they were completely blocking her way, when those on a certain farm in Ireland had seemed so threatening. (Possibly because none of this lot were snarling and curling their upper lips.) ‘Are there some new ones, or did I just not notice them when you let them out as I left last time?’

‘I’m looking after my sister’s two little Tibetan terriers while she’s on hols. Treacle and Toffee. I’m not going to want to give them back.’

‘They are very sweet,’ said Laura, putting out a hand to be sniffed and finding six noses eagerly searching for food traces. She stifled a sigh, remembering how Dermot had rescued her in Ireland. Ballyfitzpatrick seemed a world away. She had half hoped she might have heard from him – a friendly text at least – but then admonished herself. Why should he? And somehow she felt too shy to be the one to make contact first.

‘It wasn’t too hard getting the time off?’ asked Fenella, kissing Laura on the cheek and stirring the dogs away with her foot.

‘No, Henry’s been very understanding. So’s Grant. But Henry wants to supply the books and Grant wants to do something glamorous for the festival.’

‘We’ll be glad of all the help we can get.’

Laura indicated a cloth bag filled with files. ‘I’ve been quite busy since I got back from Ireland.’

‘Brilliant!’ Then Fenella gave a little jump and clapped her hands. ‘I can’t believe you got Dermot Flynn! Jacob Stone is thrilled. He’s going to give us lots of money and I’ve insisted we increase your fee. Five hundred pounds.’

‘Brilliant. Thank you.’ She had phoned Fenella the moment she got back from Ireland with the good news. She had followed it up with the bad – that Dermot didn’t want anyone to know he was appearing until the last moment – almost immediately. Fenella hadn’t seemed to take in what a drawback this might be.