Georgia felt hundreds of eyes upon her as she stood on her own in the middle of the arena. She heard the gates rattling as bulls jostled together, waiting to charge into the ring. A red cloak rippled, and the crowd roared with expectation. Were they willing her to succeed, or urging her to fail?

The ultimate hero she was developing for Georgia had become a mishmash in Liv’s head and she struggled to set him down in words. He was polite and reserved like Anthony, with Sven’s good looks, and Ted’s wealth and confidence. She gave him a touch of Hank’s swagger, even though she hadn’t experienced it for herself. Liv also looked to Essie’s old characters, Mike the rugged aircraft pilot and James the marine biologist. They each had their appeal, but Liv knew Georgia wouldn’t choose them as her greatest love. She crossed their names off her list.

As the deadline crept closer, Liv grew tetchier at her dwindling shortlist. “You’re only characters,” she hissed at them. “Play ball.”

As more time passed by, the end of August arrived and the weather heated up even more. Liv arrived at work with a clammy back and armpits.

By now, her one-a-week paperback habit had dwindled to one a month. She felt nostalgic for the gossipy chatter of her Platinum cleaning friends, and even wiping away Tarker’s and Jules’s handprints. Life seemed much easier back then. Writing had been a dream rather than a job.

Johnny’s start date at university was also creeping closer. He’d soon fly the nest, leaving her and Jake alone in the house. She worried about it almost as much as the deadline to complete Essie’s book.

One day, Liv hit a complete mind block and turned to Essie’s bookshelf for inspiration. When she spied the edge of a yellow note in a book, she grabbed and opened it. Was it a divine message from the author to spur her on? She opened it and saw Essie had underlined some text on a page.

He was the sentence to her paragraph, the full stop to her words. Without him there could be no story.

Liv loved how the words sounded. This was the passion and loveliness she was searching for. But who did they relate to?

“When are we having lunch, Mum?” Johnny called through from Essie’s sitting room, interrupting her thoughts. “I’m starving.”

Liv hoped taking a break and eating would give her a shot of energy. She found her son lying on the sofa reading a book. He’d never been a big reader, grumbling when he had to study Shakespeare and Dickens for his English literature exams. “What are you reading?” she said.

He semi-closed it so she could see the cover. “The Moon on the Water. Are you proud of me?”

Liv laughed. “It’s more constructive than trying to make paper planes.”