‘Hi!’ Alice breathed, coming to a stop in front of her. ‘Welcome to the first ever Damson Day. I’m Alice, part of the organising committee.’

Lucy flashed a quick smile, phone still aloft.

‘We can’t quite believe you’re here!’ Alice gushed, in a most un-Alice-like fashion. I wanted to give her a shake to bring her back to her senses.

‘Well, please just pretend I’m not here,’ Lucy said. ‘I’d rather be treated as a normal paying customer like everyone else.’ She accompanied this by vigorously tossing her hair over one shoulder, in a way that suggested she actually wanted people to very much know that she was there.

‘Right, of course!’ Alice said, her smile wavering. ‘We’re about to start the duck race, but, you know, do feel free to wander round, or sample the barbeque. Eleanor and Becky have made some fabulous cakes.’

‘Well, thank you for giving me permission to walk about and buy some food like everyone else. Much appreciated.’ Lucy – or I really should start calling her Nora if she was going to keep this attitude up – swung around, nearly smacking Alice in the face with a giant bag that matched her sandals, and strode over to where a young woman stood trembling with nerves and excitement from behind her fudge stand.

I daren’t move. If I did, there was a risk Nora would spot me. I also didn’t trust my legs to carry me anywhere. A thousand mixed-up thoughts were jumbling and tumbling through my head.

I can’t believe she’s here. Why is she here? Has she come because somehow she knows I’m here? But how could she know that? Not even my own parents know I’m here. Did Alice mention me? Either way, what will she do when she sees me? I’m her old boss, her friend – will she want to hug or to slap me across the face? She was mad that I’d fired her via an answerphone message, but it did mean she ended up with an outstanding promotion… Hang on a second, what about Marcus? She cheated on me with my boyfriend! Maybe I should slap her?

So, yes, I was somewhat discombobulated.

To my relief, Becky snapped me out of it.

‘Coming to the race?’ she asked, linking her arm through mine.

I nodded, distractedly, eyes still unable to tear themselves away from Nora, now peering at a jar of pickle.

‘Hang on, did you used to know her?’ Becky’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as she followed my gaze. ‘Or have you met in a professional capacity or something? Ooh, did she beat you to the job writing the column?’

I shook my head, steering us around in the direction of the river. ‘I used to sort of know her, but things didn’t end well so I don’t know how she’ll react to seeing me here. I really don’t want to be the cause of any Damson Day drama, so please don’t tell anyone. Even better, if you could stand between us and shield me from her for the rest of the day, that’d be perfect.’