Liv folded her arms. Anthony obviously didn’t know that she and Essie shared some kind of connection they were only beginning to explore. If she told him about their afternoon tea, or the notes Essie left for her, it probably still wouldn’t convince him. She swallowed away the lump in her throat that swelled when she thought about her first ever encounter with Essie, and felt obliged to share it with him.

“When I was twelve, I went through a really tough time,” she said. “Me and my mum had to go to live with her sister, my aunt Peggy, on the other side of the country for several months. I had to attend a new school, too, and it felt like I’d been sent to the moon.” She shrugged a shoulder, as if it didn’t really matter, when it actually had felt like her entire life had been upended. She could still feel her new classmates’ fingers drilling into her back and pulling her hair.

“Why did you have to move?” Anthony said.

“Several reasons.” Liv scratched the back of her neck, hating her memories of those days. There were some things she didn’t want to share with him. “One day, Essie came into my class on a publicity tour for her debut novel The Moon on the Water. All the pupils had to write a poem, and she chose mine as her winner. I was so chuffed. She gave me a copy of the book and wrote inside it, ‘To Olivia, keep writing. Best wishes, Essie Starling.’” Liv grinned. “I read it over and over and imagined I was Georgia Rory, trekking across the desert or snowy terrain on my way to school. It helped me to cope with being away from home.

“After that, I became a big fan and bought all Essie’s next books, too. I queued outside bookstores on publication day, and swooned over photos of her in LA, wearing her gorgeous gowns with Hank Milligan. I voted for the Constellation Prize, and when Essie won it I actually cheered at the TV. I hoped she might do a publicity tour, or at least an interview. Instead, she seemed to vanish off the face of the earth.” Liv shook her head. “I thought it was really odd. She kept on writing, though, even if the quality, um...tapered off.”

“When was the next time you met her?” Anthony said.

“Around three years ago. I was feeling listless about what to do next in my life. I often turn to The Moon on the Water for comfort and, when I reread Essie’s message, I had an urge to tell her how much Georgia Rory meant to me.” She stopped and her cheeks reddened. “So, I wrote a letter and sent it to her publishing house.