‘We’ve still got lunch to get through,’ Marnie reminded them. ‘I’m not sure who I’d back for the last word, but Bunty sure has staying power!’ She giggled. ‘Perhaps she should have kept the blue war paint on – that would have been a good puzzle for a mystery writer to solve.’ They told Morwenna about Bunty’s decorative efforts at deflecting ultra-violet rays.

‘I wouldn’t have thought the sun would have caused her a problem anyway,’ said Morwenna with uncharacteristic tartness as they made their way over to the house to meet Jonathan Mercer over lunch. ‘Bunty strikes me as amazingly thick-skinned. Everyone’s always snubbing her or laughing at her but whenever I start to feel agonised on her behalf I realise that she hasn’t even noticed. She goes crashing on completely unaware of the effect she has on everyone.’

‘Lucky her! I’ll bet she manages to sit next to Mr Mercer at lunch,’ said Marnie. ‘Just look.’ They looked and watched with amusement as Bunty tunnelled her way through the throng of the departing audience with a dedication that would have done credit to a mole bent on wrecking a grass tennis court. But if buttonholing the guest speaker was her intention, she was to be thwarted, because Isobel, a practised hostess, had done a careful placement for the dining room and put little name cards by each setting.

Christopher found himself next to the guest of honour and sent Isobel an appreciative smile. He also raised an eyebrow at Catherine who was sitting on the other side of the table, and she nodded at him encouragingly. She had obviously primed Jonathan beforehand, because immediately they were all seated he said: ‘Ah – my rival crime writer I believe? I hear I’ve got a treat in store and possibly some serious competition in the future. I’m usually very cautious about accepting requests to read the manuscripts of first novels, because it can be so awful dashing people’s hopes and yet it’s unforgivable to give false expectations. It’s a tough, over-subscribed and highly commercial market. However, Catherine is an old friend and colleague. We’ve taken creative writing courses together and know how each other’s minds work. I have a huge respect for her opinion.’ He shot Christopher a shrewd look through his thick spectacles. ‘In fact it’s rare for her to ask favours – so you must be exceptional. I’ll do what I can to help. If your book is as gripping as she says, I think my agent might be interested. I gather you’ve recently had some useful background experiences too,’ he added with a twinkle.

Christopher laughed, very much liking his neighbour. ‘You could say that. Not voluntary ones, as Catherine will have told you – a question of trying to put a bad time to some sort of use!’