‘That’s one of the things I’m really interested in,’ said Izzy with sudden enthusiasm. ‘You know you can have a go at making cheese here. We’ve got goats in Scotland; I’m wondering if making goat’s cheese would be a goer.’

Hannah was starting to think that maybe she’d also bitten off more than she could chew. When she’d signed up she’d liked the idea of being away from home and seeing her friends as much as learning to cook, but it hadn’t occurred to her that perhaps she needed a basic level of expertise to start with.

‘Dinner is served,’ called Bridget. ‘Come sit.’

Hannah was pleased to find herself between Meredith and Izzy who were both easy company but then she realised that there were a few extra place settings at the table, one bang opposite her.

Oh no, please don’t let Conor Byrne be coming for dinner.

To her relief, Fergus entered the room at that moment and slid his lanky form into the seat opposite and he was followed by the woman and man Hannah had seen harvesting the vegetables.

‘I’m famished. I could eat a small cow.’

‘Everyone, this is my youngest son, Fergus. He’s permanently hungry,’ Adrienne said with a fond smile at him. ‘And my father-in-law, Franklin Byrne, and my daughter, Mairead, who is married to Eamon Buchanan.’ They both nodded with warm smiles. Hannah had heard of Eamon Buchanan, the cookery school’s bread expert.

‘Welcome to Killorgally,’ said Franklin, his eyes twinkling from beneath bushy white eyebrows.

‘And here’s Conor,’ Adrienne added as he strode in, ‘who needs no introduction.’ Even Jason, it seemed, had heard of him and gave him a quick salute. Thankfully, Conor slipped into the seat next to Fliss, whose face brightened immediately; blossoming like a flower finding the sunshine.

Izzy nudged Hannah in the ribs. ‘Someone’s happy. Although I’m not surprised. Like Meredith said, he’s a hottie. Even better in the flesh.’

‘Fliss is welcome to him,’ muttered Hannah.

‘Doesn’t float your boat?’

‘No! Too full of himself by half,’ said Hannah, scowling as he looked across the table at her. He shot her a mocking glare as if he knew exactly what she’d said and she wished she dared glare back at him but she didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to herself. Instead, she ignored him and studiously addressed herself to her food, except it was impossible. She couldn’t help herself sneaking the odd look his way and every damn time he caught her.

Mind you, Fliss seemed to be having a lovely time, tossing her blonde hair and shooting him lots of flirtatious smiles. Conor, of course, lapped it up. But then he would – Hannah knew now what he was like. An arrogant so and so. He’d clearly assumed she was another groupie – the big-headed idiot – who knew he was famous.