‘Hi, Hannah, take a seat,’ said a woman in front of her, pulling out one of the spindle-backed wooden chairs. ‘I’m Meredith.’ She grinned suddenly. ‘Merry to my friends. Would you like a cup of tea? Have you come far? And you must try some of the cake; it is to die for.’

Hannah sat down in the seat with a plop, realising that the journey had tired her. ‘I’d love a cup of tea. Thank you.’

Meredith picked up the pretty china teapot and poured the tea into a matching cup and saucer. Hannah couldn’t remember the last time she’d drunk from anything but a mug. The delicate porcelain made it all seem rather genteel and more of an occasion.

‘Here.’ Meredith pushed a fat slab of cake towards her. ‘I hope they’re going to teach us how to cook this cake. It’s blimmin’ delicious.’

‘Cake?’ the young man across the table echoed with a distinct sense of horror on his face. ‘If I’ve got to be here, I wanna learn to cook proper. Cakes is for mums and housewives.’

Meredith’s friendly smile disappeared. ‘And what’s wrong with being a mum or a housewife, young man? Who brought you up? A robot? A dog?’

‘Me mum. Sorry,’ he said hastily, with a sudden cheeky smile. He lifted the handle of his cup of tea between finger and thumb and toasted her in quick apology. He glanced at Hannah. ‘I’m Jason.’

‘Hi.’

‘And I’m Alan,’ said the middle-aged man next to him. He seemed to be the only Irish person among them. Meredith had a distinct Scouse accent and Jason sounded like he was from the East End of London.

‘Fliss,’ added the girl across from her in a bored, posh voice, barely looking up from her phone.

‘Hi, everyone.’

‘Have you come far?’ asked Meredith again.

‘Manchester, but I flew to Dublin yesterday and drove up today.’

‘I flew to Kerry. It’s the sweetest little airport you’ve ever seen. Adrienne’s son-in-law picked me up. He’s the bread expert. I’ve seen him on the television sometimes with James Martin and Jamie Oliver. But he was lovely, not at all stuck up. And there I go again, running my mouth off. My daughters are always telling me I talk too much. It’s nerves, that’s all. This is the scariest thing I’ve ever done.’

Hannah realised that she could see lines of strain around the other woman’s eyes.

‘Me, too,’ she volunteered, with a smile. ‘Right out of my comfort zone.’