“Can we get them in, please?” she said, as the camera operators were dismantling cameras and sound men were taking fuzzy things off mikes. She bustled to the doorway and started bringing people in two at a time, all of them hopeful and expectant, clutching copies of Blair’s books, most of which looked worn and well loved.

And he was distantly charming with everyone: didn’t rush, took his time, made sure he was spelling people’s names correctly and complimenting hats and brooches. He submitted merrily to photographs, flashing that brilliant grin, putting arms nearly around the women but not touching them, and when someone started to tell him a problem, he passed her on to Emily to take her details, promising that someone from his office would get back to her.

Finally, by noon, every adoring person had been swept from the shop; every last piece of cabling had been removed; the spare decorations had been packed away; every single book was sold, so the cashbox was overflowing; and the shop was temporarily quiet.

IT WAS LIKE watching the air go out of a balloon. He seemed to almost shrivel in front of Carmen’s eyes. The smile and the teeth vanished; his body slumped. He took off the Harris tweed jacket with the elbow patches and pulled on a gray hoodie Emily had stretched out for him, zipping it up to his chin and putting on his glasses. He laid his head down on the counter.

“We done?”

“Four local radio stations, two national, children’s hospital, BBC again.”

“We just did them.”

“This is the whole of the BBC. That was just local.”

A tearful noise came from under the hoodie. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“Let me get you a coffee.”

There was no answer from the large figure now prone upon the case.

“Um,” said Carmen. “We are, believe me, so appreciative.”

She really and truly was. They had taken money continuously; the old till had tinged and rang, and the stack of Blair Pfenning books had dwindled to nothing. She had never known anything like it, not even during one of the periodic bursts of craft in haberdashery that followed Kirstie Allsopp appearing on television.

“But would you mind moving so I can get to the till?”

He glanced up at her, his eyes hollow. “Whatever,” he said.

Emily had left to get coffee, and they were alone in the shop.

“Are you all right?” said Carmen wonderingly.

“Don’t I look all right?”

“You did two minutes ago,” said Carmen. “Now you’re lying down in a shop.”

“Uh, jet lag?”

“I’ve had jet lag,” said Carmen. “I could still lift my own head.”

He sighed. “Well, bully for you.” He looked up at her suddenly. “Is there anywhere really cozy and lovely to eat round here?”

“There are loads of places to eat around here,” said Carmen. “I’m sure Emily will know them.”