Before I could respond to Barry’s demand, a barrage of questions broke out.

‘What sort of celebrity?’

‘Will it be a proper one?’

‘Can you ask for a comedian?’

Jane leaned across Doris and gripped my forearm. ‘Could you actually get him?’

‘Him?’

‘Jamie Wotsit,’ she said, a feverish light in her eyes. ‘The one who played Christian Grey.’

Doris tutted. ‘I’d prefer that nice man from Midsomer Murders,’ she said, patting her hair. ‘Barnaby Rudge.’

I compressed my lips.

‘You mean John Barnaby,’ said Jill Edwards, who’d been observing proceedings with an increasing air of irritation. ‘Barnaby Rudge was a Charles Dickens character.’

‘I know that,’ Doris huffed. ‘And I meant Tom Barnaby, if you must know.’

‘Why does it have to be a man?’ Mr Flannery sat forward, bony shoulders hunched. ‘What about that actress from Mamma Mia!?’

Marnie shot him an incredulous look. ‘I wouldn’t have had you down as a musical lover.’

‘I’m not,’ he said. ‘But I like that Meryl Streep.’

Meryl Streep? ‘I’m afraid it’s not—’

‘Oh, I love her too,’ said Sheelagh, nudging a stool between Doris and me and wriggling her bottom onto it. ‘I loved her in Pretty Woman.’

There were several stifled snorts around the table, and one of the twins started to grizzle.

‘Sorry,’ said Harassed Mum, unbuttoning her shirt. ‘He needs a feed.’

‘I’m afraid it won’t be an A-list actor,’ I said, deciding to get it over with.

‘Who, then?’ demanded Barry, averting his gaze from the suckling twin. ‘A news presenter?’ He might as well have said toilet cleaner. ‘Or someone from a boyband?’

‘Ooh, our Calum’s a huge fan of One Direction.’ Jane’s beaming smile returned. ‘I like the one with the hair.’

‘Didn’t they break up?’ queried Marnie, glancing at her watch.

‘Only some of them.’ Sheelagh shifted her buttocks. ‘Or am I thinking of Take That?’

I was already starting to regret my impulsive suggestion. ‘It’s more…’ I hesitated, sensing they wouldn’t like what I was going to say. ‘Reality stars.’

‘Reality?’ Barry pulled in his chins. ‘You mean some loser who’s been in the jungle, eating a kangaroo’s arse?’

‘Barry!’ Sheelagh admonished, giving me an apologetic smile. ‘I’m sure they’re not all losers.’

‘A lot of them have been in films and television dramas,’ I pointed out, keen to calm ruffled feathers. ‘I’m sure I could book one of those.’

‘And how much will it cost to get one of these reality stars?’ Barry was scanning a printout through narrowed eyes. ‘Donal Kerrigan was going to do it for free.’

‘We don’t have the resources, and council cutbacks mean they can’t pay either.’ Sheelagh worried at a button on her cardigan.

‘How much?’ Barry repeated.

‘Don’t hassle her when she’s just saved our skins,’ said Mr Flannery, looking as if he’d like to punch Barry on the nose.

‘I’m sure I can work something out,’ I said, deciding that if there was a fee I’d pay it myself.

‘That’s very kind of you.’ As Sheelagh gave my arm a motherly pat, I glanced down to see Marmite nestled on her roomy lap, his green gaze filled with contempt. I hadn’t much experience of cats, but he didn’t seem to like me.

‘Give him a rub,’ Sheelagh suggested, fondling his ears.

Worried he’d scratch me if I tried, I said, ‘I’m good, thanks.’ I scraped my chair back, banging my knees on the table as I stood up and squeezed out of the tiny space. ‘I’ll go and give my friend a ring now, and I’ll let you know.’

‘Sooner rather than later,’ grumped Barry.

‘Whenever you’re ready,’ Sheelagh qualified.

‘Lovely to meet you, Lily.’ Marnie gave a little wave as I backed into the hall and grabbed my coat.

‘Don’t forget to pop my basket back, dear, I’m in all day tomorrow,’ Doris called, but the last word belonged to Jill Edwards.

‘Let me know if you change your mind about an interview.’

---

‘I don’t think we’ve anyone available,’ said Erin, five minutes later, as I drew the curtains in the cottage and switched on a couple of lamps. The air felt chilly after the hothouse atmosphere at the Lamberts’, and I crossed the living room and turned the heating up. ‘Most of them are working, or going away for Christmas.’

‘It’ll only take a few hours to turn on some Christmas tree lights and judge a few houses,’ I said. ‘Half a day, tops.’

‘These things are usually booked ages in advance.’ On the other end of the phone, Erin sounded distracted, and I remembered that business wasn’t too good since a colleague had opened her own agency, taking their best clients with her. ‘And, with respect, Shipley’s the arse end of nowhere.’

‘Grimsby’s not exactly Knightsbridge,’ I pointed out, ‘and didn’t that talent-show winner turn on the lights up there, last year?’ I couldn’t fall at the first hurdle after promising my neighbours a celebrity. The thought of breaking it to Barry filled me with dread.

‘Yes, but she was desperate for publicity after her record deal fell through.’ Erin blew out a sigh. ‘They’re becoming fussy,’ she said. ‘They get paid shitloads more for a nightclub appearance.’

I pictured her at her messy desk at Stars For You, where she organised power lunches, negotiated auditions for her ‘artists’ and made sure they were where they were supposed to be. When I’d met her, Erin was staying not far from where I worked, helping to look after her niece while her sister recovered from an operation. She was late to pick up Tallulah one afternoon, explaining she’d had a meeting with a quiz host who’d tried to talk her into bed and, fascinated, I’d ended up grilling her about her job, while Tallulah sat on a beanbag, eating a packet of vegetable crisps.

With her thickly lashed blue eyes, and blonde Rapunzel waves, Erin had reminded me of an actress, but when I asked if she’d been in anything, she’d made a horrified face.

‘You’ve got to be shitting me,’ she’d said, her potty-mouth belied by her girly prettiness. ‘I’ve seen how hard it is to get a break in show business. Believe me, I’m happier looking after the stars than being one.’

After making me laugh with a couple of anecdotes, she’d asked if we could meet for a coffee some time. ‘I don’t really know anyone around here and I might be staying a while.’

We’d clicked, despite our differences, and stayed friends after she returned to her life in Soho, where she rented a flat close to the agency. I liked the vicarious glamour of Erin’s job, and she liked that my job put hers in perspective; ‘dealing with actual children, rather than grown-up ones’, as she’d summed it up.

‘There must be someone who’s got a kind heart, if you say it’s for a good cause,’ I said now, practically wheedling.

‘Is it?’

‘What?’

‘A good cause.’ Erin sounded wary. ‘From what you’ve said, it’s just an excuse for your neighbours to show off.’

‘Well, I’ve only met them once, and I suppose the circumstances—’

‘Don’t people show their true selves during “circumstances”?’ I knew where this was heading. I opened my mouth to head her off, but she was already saying, ‘You-know-who certainly did.’

‘We’ve been over that,’ I said, plonking down on the sofa and easing my boots off. I pointed the remote at the television and turned the sound low. The weather forecaster was predicting a polar blast, due to bring snow to areas of the southwest. The bit where Shipley was, by the look of it.

‘I still can’t get over that you’ve moved to Dorset because of him.’

‘He was just the catalyst,’ I said. ‘I fancied a change.’

‘You left because you got shown up in front of your class, thanks to that idiot’s wife.’ A memory of the head teacher’s disapproving face shot into my head. I shuddered, imagining the story she’d tell if someone called her for a reference. ‘It’s not likely to happen again, is it?’

‘I needed to move out of Mum’s anyway,’ I said quickly.

‘You had the house pretty much to yourself, with all her acting and shit.’

‘Erin, you’re supposed to support me.’

Her sigh was heavy. ‘Sorry, Lils. I’m cross with him for making you believe you had a future together, then wimping out.’

My heart twisted. ‘I told you, it was mainly because of his daughter. If he divorced her, she was going to apply for full custody of Harriet.’

‘She wouldn’t have gone through with it.’

‘She would have, just to spite me,’ I said, wishing, not for the first time, that I’d never clapped eyes on Max Bellfield (or Bellend, as Erin renamed him). If he hadn’t dropped his daughter at my classroom on her first day at school, confessing he was a ‘clueless’ single dad, I doubt I’d have looked at him twice, but he was so gentle and patient with Harriet – even when she kicked Percy Shelton’s shin and called him a douche – I’d been won over.

‘Wasn’t his daughter a handful?’ Erin said.

‘She was confused, that’s all.’

‘Hmmm. Lots of children are confused, but they don’t try to burn their school down.’

‘She didn’t mean it,’ I protested, though I still wasn’t convinced that Harriet hadn’t smuggled the matches in with the express purpose of starting a fire in the waste paper bin. She’d seen it done on an episode of Chicago Fire, she said afterwards, sticking her bottom lip out. ‘She wanted to see a fire engine.’

‘Why the fuck was a kid her age watching Chicago Fire in the first place?’

‘Oh, Erin, we’ve talked about this, too,’ I said, acknowledging a ripple of relief that I wouldn’t have to deal with the issues raised by her parents’ break-up now that Max was back with his wife. ‘Can we get back to you offering me a nice celebrity, free of charge?’

‘It won’t be free of charge,’ said Erin. ‘It’s not very sexy, but the local council normally foots the bill, at the taxpayer’s expense. It can cost anything up to five grand.’

‘What?’ I wasn’t digging that far into my savings. I was relying on them to get me through until I received an advance for my first novel. ‘Not this year,’ I said. ‘Cutbacks. Plus, Donal Kerrigan was going to do it for free, but pulled out.’

‘And you’re getting involved because…?’

‘I want to make friends.’ It sounded pathetic, and I immediately wished I hadn’t said it.

‘Oh, Lily.’ After a loaded pause, during which I heard someone in the background tell someone to ‘fuck right off’, followed by a slamming door, Erin said, ‘There is someone who might be available.’

I straightened. ‘Who?’

‘Ollie Matheson,’ she said, with a certain amount of caution. ‘He’s between jobs at the moment, and could do with some positive exposure.’

I didn’t like the sound of that. ‘Who’s Ollie Matheson?’

Erin gave an exasperated laugh. ‘Even you must have heard of him, Lily!’

‘You know I don’t watch soaps.’

‘He’s not in a soap, he was the breakout star of Players.’

The name rang a bell. One of my ex-colleagues used to rave about it. It was a reality show about wealthy playboys driving flashy cars and attending fancy nightclubs, their sole purpose seemingly to make females with names like Puffy and Twinkle fall for them.

‘I don’t watch reality shows either.’

‘It’s quite a good one actually, but Ollie was fired for hitting someone—’

‘Isn’t that par for the course on those shows?’ I said. ‘I’d have thought it would be good for ratings.’

‘It was actually, but he doesn’t want to go back. He’s in love with the girl on the show, but there were rumours she’d slept with someone else… it’s a long story,’ she said, sounding unusually fed up. ‘Basically, he needs another job, but other networks are reluctant to hire him, and Tattie Granger—’

‘Tattie?’

‘Yeah, I know,’ she said drily. ‘She’s been bad-mouthing him in the press.’

‘And you think he’ll be up for a trip to Shipley to look at some Christmas lights?’ I pressed my fingers to my temple. ‘I can’t imagine him jumping at the opportunity.’

‘Well, maybe he doesn’t have much choice.’

I tried to imagine the local reaction if Ollie Matheson was to turn up. Would anyone even know who he was? ‘I suppose if he’s the only option…’

‘I’ll give him a call, but I can’t promise anything.’

‘You’ll try though?’

Erin relented. ‘I’ll do my very best, you pushy mare.’

‘Thanks, Erin, you’re the best,’ I said. ‘Let me know asap.’

‘Yes, miss.’

Ending the call, I felt a flash of excitement. This was just what I needed.

Tomorrow I would visit the nearest town and buy some Christmas lights of my own. Not to compete – that would be impossible – but to get into the festive mood, and show that I was a part of the Maple Hill community.

When Mum called later, after she was home from her play, to check that I was OK, I said convincingly, ‘Everything’s fine, Mum. I think I’m going to fit in here.’