‘I am, dear, yes,’ replied Beverley with an ingratiating smile. ‘How nice to meet you.’

‘I should take this opportunity to get away if I were you,’ whispered the ghost to Declan, who didn’t have to be told twice and scurried off to hide in the children’s section.

‘I was just about to buy this,’ continued the woman, brandishing a copy of The Surgeon’s Broken Heart, ‘when I happened to look across and saw you standing there. You don’t mind me coming over, do you? I imagine it must get annoying to be approached by strangers in public, but I’m a great admirer of your work.’

‘I don’t mind at all,’ said Beverley. ‘It’s always a pleasure to meet someone who appreciates my art. Would you like me to sign it for you?’

‘If you would, yes. That would be very kind.’

Beverley rooted in her bag for a pen, and the ghost, having looked the woman up and down several times to make sure that she was not about to make a terrible error, spoke up.

‘How far along are you?’ she asked, nodding towards the woman’s stomach.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘The baby. How many months?’

‘Oh. Only a few months. I’m surprised you could tell. But I am starting to show a little, it’s true.’

‘Oh, many congratulations,’ said Beverley, taking the book and removing the cap from her pen. ‘I have three children of my own and they are the very lights of my life.’

‘Three? How lovely! Do they still live with you?’

‘I’m afraid they do. I can’t get rid of them. Well, one’s at school, so I suppose that’s reasonable enough. But the other two … well, we’ve made it too comfortable for them, that’s the problem. I imagine they’ll move out eventually. Perhaps I need to change the locks.’

‘And do you think your husband and you will stay together once they’ve all fled the nest?’

Beverley stared at her and burst out laughing. ‘What an extraordinary question!’ she said. ‘But yes, I have no reason to think otherwise. Why do you ask?’

‘Oh, it’s just something I was thinking about. I worry about my own future, you see.’

‘I don’t think you need to concern yourself with such things for many years yet. You have the whole wonderful experience in front of you. Now, to whom shall I dedicate the book?’

‘Angela Gosebourne,’ replied the woman. ‘Actually, if you could inscribe it for Angela and George. He’s my fiancé. Or, rather, I hope he will be one day. He hasn’t actually proposed yet but I’m hoping it’s just a matter of time.’

‘My husband’s name is George too,’ said Beverley as she turned the book to the title page and began scribbling away.

‘Yes, I know. George Cleverley. I enjoy his television programme.’

‘Do you? That’s nice. I didn’t know he appealed to a younger demographic.’

‘He appeals to me,’ said Angela, taking the book back, looking at the inscription and smiling. ‘Very much so. I’ll leave you alone now, but it’s been a pleasure to meet you.’