Anton and Kit had joined the shorter of the two lunch queues, so Posy slid in behind them and said a breezy hello before she noticed the unusually sour look on Kit’s face and the tightness around Anton’s eyes.

‘You guys missed a great house tour,’ she said, mostly to fill the awkward silence that bubbled around them. She wanted to ask where they’d been, but the vibe from them both didn’t encourage questions. Had they been arguing? ‘We got to see Lettice’s study and her memorabilia and everything.’

‘That sounds fun.’ Something of Kit’s smile returned as he spoke, and there was a daring glint in his eye. ‘Maybe I’ll have to sneak up there later and take a look for myself. See if I can find anything that screams “Detective Inspector Johnnie Swain” at me. Get inspired, you know?’

‘We’re not looking for antiques for this film,’ Anton snapped. ‘We’re looking forward. You won’t find a Johnnie who looked like you anywhere in this house.’

Before Posy could think of anything to fill the stunned silence that followed, the VIP fans descended. Three of them, anyway – Harry and his wife, plus the blue-haired woman. The guy in the Christmas jumper was still waiting for his dessert, by the look of things.

Caro seemed to have disappeared and, in her absence, the uber-fans had decided to latch onto the next most famous option. Since Rosalind was still deep in conversation with Juliette, that left Posy and Kit.

Anton, probably wisely, decided to slope off towards another table with his plate.

‘Hello, there!’ Harry said, juggling his coffee cup and cake plate into one hand, so he could shake Posy and Kit’s hands with the other. ‘We met this morning, didn’t we? I’m Harry, and this is my wife Heather. And of course, we’ve seen you on the telly, young man, so no introductions needed there.’

‘We’re big fans,’ Heather interrupted, and Kit preened, just a little. ‘Of Lettice, I mean. Well, obviously, or we wouldn’t be here!’

Posy hid a smile as Kit deflated. ‘Hopefully by the end of this weekend we’ll have won you over too,’ he said.

‘We had a Dahlia Lively themed wedding, you know,’ Harry said, ignoring Kit’s comment. ‘Heather’s idea, of course, but I loved it!’

‘Each of the tables was named after one of her books. I made these individual centrepieces for each one, including the murder weapon.’ Heather smiled proudly, as Harry nodded.

‘It was Dahlia who brought us together, you see,’ he explained. ‘We met at a special library event where Lettice came to speak—’

‘It was a couple of years before she died,’ Heather put in.

‘And that was it! We knew we were meant to be.’ Harry beamed at his wife. ‘Thirty years we’ve been married, and this weekend is our anniversary present to each other.’