‘I think they will,’ said Laura, pushing her plate away from her so she could really make her point. ‘Having Dermot will make it a big literary event, they’ll want to be there. Amazing publicity for them. Besides, most of them will get to stay in a lovely country house and there’s something special about the first year of a festival.’ Laura felt herself getting excited. She realised she was going to enjoy working on the festival with Fen, however much work it might involve.

‘It might be the first and last,’ said Rupert.

‘We might have to tell them he’s going to appear and they’ll get a chance to meet him. I wonder if he’d mind us doing that?’ said Laura, ignoring Rupert’s uncharacteristic pessimism.

‘Or would he hate that even more?’ asked Fenella. ‘You know him, Laura. What do you think?’

‘I don’t know! He may hate other authors. I’ve come across a few who do. It’s probably professional jealousy or something.’

‘Maybe we could arrange a discreet authors’ dinner before his event. He can choose which ones and we’ll make it really special.’

‘But would that be cost-effective?’ asked Laura. ‘A special dinner could cost loads.’

‘We don’t need to worry about that,’ said Rupert. ‘We have contacts.’

‘Breaking even is all we can hope to do this first year,’ said Fenella. ‘Although the bottom line is important, we have to speculate in order to accumulate.’

‘That sounds very businesslike,’ said Laura, impressed.

‘I read it somewhere,’ said Fenella, ‘but more to the point, do you think Dermot would agree to all this?’

‘If we’d cleared it with him first,’ said Laura. ‘He’s not easy. And a bit unpredictable,’ she added, thinking of him agreeing to do a course, apparently without even being asked, when everyone in Ireland had told her that he wouldn’t stir out of his village. ‘He may love the idea.’

‘On the other hand,’ put in Rupert, ‘maybe we shouldn’t give Dermot so much control? He may never be able to decide who he wants to come. I think we should just invite who we think we’d like.’

On Saturday morning their work began in earnest. Laura sat at the computer and, with Fenella’s help, typed up all the ideas that had flowed as freely as the wine had the night before.

‘OK, now we’ve got our definitive list of authors, we must check up on who their publishers are.’

‘How are we going to do that?’

‘I’ve bought some trade mags. That’ll help,’ said Laura. ‘But to be honest, I know lots of them. Now we’ve pruned it down a bit, it shouldn’t take long.’