‘Changes?’ I echoed stupidly. I was beginning to think I’d left my brain at home in Shrimphaven – or even my body: could this just be a nightmare?

‘Yes, I’m taking on so many new authors that I’ve decided to follow the example of some of my colleagues in the business, by dropping the ten of my authors each year who are performing least well, to make room for the new ones … and I’ve already seen the other nine.’

‘The other … Miracle!’

‘Well, Tina, it’s very, very sad after all this time, I know, but I’m afraid after Dark, Passionate Earth I will have to let you go, though I will, of course, continue to represent you for any rights from your first novels. And I can recommend you to another agent if you can find one who is still taking on authors.’

I opened my mouth – to plead, I admit – but all that came out was a strange, frog-like rasping noise and no prince was in sight to kiss and make it better when I most wanted one.

‘You may well find that a change of agents is quite invigorating to your writing, even,’ she suggested, smiling encouragingly.

And I might well find myself temping again.

‘And so I don’t have an agent, and soon I won’t have a publisher either,’ I told Linny when we met in Liberty’s café afterwards. Though really I was in such a state of shock that even shopping wouldn’t help me, and after tea and buns we got in a taxi and went back to her place.

Tershie was home, and he was terribly sweet and opened champagne, and even offered to send me all the way home by taxi, which I declined because naturally I always hoped to see Tube Man, and anyway it would have been phenomenally expensive, even though Tershie could afford it, and I didn’t like to take advantage of my friendship with his wife.

Speaking of which, once I’d calmed down a bit and had two glasses of bubbly I realized that Linny, although sympathetic as always, was also sort of enjoying the situation, but I supposed that was perfectly natural since our friendship was built on mutual regard: I was jealous of her because (a) Tershie was super-rich and (b) hardly ever home so (c) Linny didn’t actually have to do anything at all except shop and pretend to write novels. In return, Linny was jealous of me because (a) I was published and (b) she fancied the leotard off Sergei.