‘We do indeed,’ he said with a smile that suggested that not many people asked him for such items and it would be a librarian’s pleasure to dig them out for her. ‘Do you know which year you’re interested in?’

‘1983, please,’ she replied quickly. ‘From August to December.’

‘I imagine that’s before you were born,’ the librarian commented, and then immediately looked a little awkward, as if this were too personal a statement to have made, but Pip smiled broadly back at him and nodded.

‘Just give me one moment and I’ll locate them for you,’ he said, and disappeared towards the stairs.

Pip entertained herself by flicking through the tourist information leaflets that were sitting in a rack on the table. There were so many interesting-looking things to do nearby. It was funny, when you lived in a place, how few of them you ever thought about visiting. She checked herself. She didn’t live here. She was just passing through. She would be back in London before she knew it.

‘It’s Philippa, isn’t it?’ a voice said at her back. ‘Philippa Appleby. Please tell me that I’m right or I’m going to feel awfully foolish.’

Pip knew the voice at once. ‘Mr Lancaster!’ she said, spinning round to look at him.

The librarian had seemed ancient to her when she had been a girl, although she supposed he hadn’t been much over forty. He looked unchanged now except that his thick dark hair was grey. Even his glasses were the same: unflattering gold frames in a retro shape.

‘Well I never,’ he said, holding out a hand for her to shake. ‘How very lovely to see you. And you must call me Keith. You’re not a schoolgirl any more, you know.’

Pip thought there was more chance of hell freezing over than of her addressing Mr Lancaster by his first name, but she grinned at him.

‘How are you?’ she asked. ‘Are you still working here? I did wonder when I came in, but I thought that . . .’

‘I’d be far too decrepit to still be holding down a job?’ he finished for her.

‘No! Of course not,’ protested Pip, although that was precisely what she had thought. She felt her cheeks betray her.

‘I’m very well, thank you, my dear. And I just work part-time these days. Things are done differently but I try to keep up. Don’t want to be accused of being an old fuddy-duddy.’

He smiled, and Pip saw that his teeth were almost the same beige as his jumper. Then his expression changed, and he put a hand out to touch her gently on her arm.

‘And I was so sorry to hear of your trouble,’ he said.