Christine peeped from under her oversized hood. ‘I can’t risk being identified.’ She looked about her agitatedly. ‘Here are the keys.’ She slipped them into Maggie’s hand while scanning the alleyway. ‘I’ll be back later. But you haven’t seen me.’

‘Okay,’ said Maggie, pressing her lips together to stop her breaking into a grin.

Christine slunk off. ‘Come on,’ said Maggie and she and Tom opened up and went inside. Farah and Betty soon joined them along with Betty’s husband who was one of those people who nodded a lot but never actually spoke. Together they set up the drink and cake station.

Tom put out all the chairs and Farah had made more flyers which she scattered on the seats. ‘Have you read The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society?’ he asked her.

‘Wow. That’s some title. And no. Any good?’

‘Yeah. It’s all written in letters. There’s stuff about the Second World War and… a bit of a romance.’ Tom concentrated on straightening the chairs. ‘I thought it might be your sort of read.’

‘Sounds it. I’ll check it out. Thanks.’

‘Do you, um, like lambs at all?’ he asked, scratching his head.

‘What? To eat?’

‘No. You know? To look at. In a field.’

‘Umm.’

‘I’ve got lambs,’ said Maggie, sweeping past. ‘You’re welcome anytime to come and see them. Next farm along might even have one you can feed if you fancy it.’

‘Oh, I see. Yeah. I’d like that,’ said Farah, pushing her hair behind her ear.

‘Cool,’ said Tom and he went back to adjusting the seating.

The mini bus arrived earlier than planned but given some of the mobility issues it was a good thing as it allowed them to get all the nursing home residents inside and settled with drinks and cake. Alice was very excited to be there and kept telling everyone – repeatedly.

Tom, Farah and Betty set to their allocated task of asking people what they liked to read and recommending something. Farah struggled a bit and kept looking to Tom for suggestions, which he was happy to give. Betty recommended sagas to everyone regardless of what they said they liked.

Before long there was a steady stream of people through the door and the seats filled up quickly. More people arrived and it became difficult to move about, so Tom resorted to passing books around until someone kept hold of one they liked the look of.

‘It’s like pass the parcel,’ said one elderly lady.

‘Have you got any erotica,’ asked the old man next to her and got a swift elbow in the ribs. Maggie handed him Fifty Shades of Grey as she passed and he beamed at her.