‘Hello, Laura,’ said a voice that made her knees go weaker and her mouth become drier. She sank on to a little chair that was near a small desk.

‘Hello,’ she said again, wishing she had a glass of water.

‘It’s a great coincidence that you happened to be there, isn’t it?’

‘Maybe. Great for whom?’ she asked warily, wondering what he meant.

‘Great for me, anyway. The reason I need to speak to you is, I want you to do a job for me.’

‘What sort of job?’ Laura was a bit panicked. She was busy enough as it was with the festival and still working at the bookshop.

‘Did you hear about the writing course I’ve agreed to do?’

She turned away a little but was aware of Rupert and Fenella poring over the crossword as if it were an exam paper, they were working so hard at not eavesdropping. ‘Yes. I was a bit surprised. It was all I could do to get you to agree to speak at the festival, now here you are offering to run a writing course. I thought you weren’t keen on them.’ She tried to sound lighthearted, but she found speaking to him almost unbearably lovely.

He gave a short, dismissive laugh. ‘I’m not running anything, I’ll just teach.’

Laura tucked a strand of hair behind her ear to help her think. ‘But I thought people sent in their manuscripts and you decided who got on the course on the strength of them?’

‘Oh, so you know all about it, do you?’ He sounded amused.

‘Not at all. Just what Fenella told me. But that’s right, isn’t it?’ Now she pulled the scrunchy off her ponytail and shook out her curls as if doing so would settle her jumbled thoughts.

‘It is so, and that’s where you come in.’ He sounded a little triumphant as if he’d solved a problem.

‘Where? Where do I come in?’

‘My agent, Eleanora, the old dragon’ – his chuckle revealed he was fond her, old dragon or not – ‘told me that you have a very good eye when it comes to fiction. You didn’t tell me you knew her.’

‘Well, er, yes, I do. And yes, I suppose I have read a lot,’ said Laura tentatively.

‘So I want you to read all the scripts and pick out the ten best.’

She gulped. ‘What? But how would I know? When would I have time to do it? I’m organising a literary festival!’ A second later she remembered that literary festivals were often run by people with full-time jobs.

‘Not single-handed. Eleanora told me there’s a team, including her niece, or god-daughter, Fenella – whoever it was I spoke to.’

‘That’s true.’ Laura struggled to sound calm.

‘Well then, you can do my scripts for me. I’ll pay you,’ he added.