‘I want to be a star,’ she said. ‘I want people to turn and look at me when I walk into a room. I want them to ask for my autograph. I want to have success in the UK, but then I want to go to Hollywood to do a big feature, work with some of the great directors, Scorsese, Spielberg, Altman.’ She suddenly panicked that she was suggesting television was somehow second-rate, but he was smiling at her and nodding encouragingly.

‘I love to see that kind of ambition in my actresses,’ he said, taking a large slurp from his glass. He belched lightly. ‘I want girls with fire in their belly.’

Evelyn was hardly a girl, but she didn’t feel she should correct him.

‘So, Evie,’ he said, patting the sofa next to him. ‘Why don’t you come over here and tell me just how you think I can help you get there.’

9

Pip watched the clock impatiently, the hours crawling by in a way they had never done when she had been working in her busy office in London, until it was finally time for Audrey to declare the day done, switch off all the lights and lock the door behind them.

‘See you on Monday,’ said Pip as they parted ways. ‘Are you doing anything nice this weekend?’ she added as an afterthought, although she really had no interest in the answer.

Audrey’s face set hard and she rolled her eyes heavenwards. ‘Bring-and-buy sale at the church hall,’ she said grimly. ‘No one else stepped up so it’s left to yours truly to organise. Could you tell your mother to bring the baking over by eight thirty? There’s bound to be a queue. It’s ridiculous, really. They’ll barge the doors down for a bring and buy, but not set foot in this shop.’

‘Well, I hope it goes well,’ Pip replied quickly, keen not to get volunteered into helping, and then sidled away to unlock her bike before the thought could occur to Audrey. Even though she wasn’t fit enough to be holding down her proper job in London, this parochial little life with its unimportant problems was driving her mad. How did all these people not die of boredom, tucked away out here in the middle of nowhere? A bring-and-buy sale, for God’s sake.

With the plastic bag containing the stolen diary wedged into the bicycle’s basket, Pip rode back to the farm down the narrow leafy lanes, planning out her evening as she went. She would escape from the kitchen as soon as she could after supper, run herself a deep, hot bath and then have an early night with the diary.

What was happening to her? Rose would be horrified at the prospect of such a dull evening. But Rose wasn’t here and Pip was doing her best to hold things together in whichever way she could. She could hear Dominic scoffing at her plan, too, but she didn’t care. She felt a weird connection between herself and the diary writer, and she needed to investigate it. The writer appeared to be stuck in the wrong place just like she was, although Pip hadn’t yet worked out why. She needed to read some more.