It seemed impossible to say no. She’d have to pay Nicole for it later. ‘Certainly,’ she said. ‘Would you like me to sign it?’

‘Yes. Put “To Carl, from your fellow writer, Annabelle”. Like I did. OK?’

‘OK.’ She wrote the message, exactly as he’d said it. Something told her he would check. She handed the book to him. ‘Good luck with your poetry, Carl.’

‘Do you want to talk about it? Writing?’ he said.

‘I’d love to,’ Annabelle said. ‘But maybe another time.’ The lady in her fifties was still in her chair, holding the copy she’d brought in with her. ‘But I think I need to sign someone else’s book.’

His face flickered with disappointment. ‘Oh. All right. Another time, then.’

‘Yes. Another time.’ She looked past him at the woman. ‘Would you like me to sign that?’

The woman stood up and handed her the book.

‘I loved it,’ she said, in a soft voice. ‘I felt the pain. I thought to myself, here is someone who really understands pain. It helped me, at a difficult time in my life.’ She looked left and right, then lowered her voice. ‘I went through the same thing. I hope it’s over for you.’

‘Yes,’ Annabelle said, unsure what else to say. ‘It’s only a novel, obviously. A story.’

‘Nothing’s only a story,’ the woman whispered. ‘Especially not this.’

‘That’s so wonderful to hear,’ Annabelle said. ‘Thank you for saying that.’

‘It’s my pleasure.’ The woman smiled. ‘Would you sign it for me?’

‘I’d be delighted.’ Annabelle opened the book. It looked like it had been read more than once. ‘Who should I make it out to?’

‘Rachel,’ the woman said. ‘Make it out to Rachel.’

When Rachel had left, Annabelle looked at the table.

One fewer book on it than at the start. Nicole was putting away the chairs.

‘I’m sorry,’ Annabelle said. ‘That was a bit of a waste of your time.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Nicole said. ‘At least you had five show up. We’ve had worse.’

‘Really? I wouldn’t have thought it could be much worse.’

‘We had zero, once. No one came at all. And only one, another time. So five is pretty respectable.’

‘That makes me feel a little better, I suppose.’ Annabelle gestured at chairs. ‘Can Matt and I help tidy up?’

‘No, that’s fine. It won’t take me long. Thanks for offering, though. You two go off and enjoy the evening. Have a drink somewhere.’

‘By the way, I owe you for a book. That guy took one. He swapped it for his volume of poetry.’

Nicole laughed. ‘Was that what he was saying?’

‘Yes. One writer to another. He was very particular about the message I wrote in his book.’

‘You get all sorts,’ Nicole said. ‘Come to the till and I’ll ring it up.’

‘Drink?’ Matt said as they left.