Good lord! What could that mean? While they were going through the tunnel, Sally couldn’t even pretend to be looking out of the window. But it was now clear that, whoever was speaking on the other end of the line, it wasn’t Phoo.

Sally gulped.

She hated being in on other people’s secrets. It was such a terrible responsibility.

With a whoosh the car returned to open air. But Eggy was still practically shouting. ‘No, if it’s a boy, you can’t call it after me . . . Because Edgar is such a silly, old-fashioned name . . .’

Sally wondered whether her shocked gulp had been audible.

Totally embarrassed by what she had overheard, she started up a conversation in French with the driver which lasted until they were almost home. Eggy, ear glued to the phone, was still jabbering away with the casting director when the driver pulled up outside her house.

He glanced up, and mouthed, ‘See you tomorrow,’ bending his fingers in a mini-wave, as Sally climbed out of the car.

She waved back as the car continued down the hill.

She pulled out her key and opened up.

What a relief to be home and alone.

She went straight through to the kitchen and switched on the kettle. Old British habits die hard!

Next, she opened a bottle of Bandol, pulled out a glass, filled it and took a swig. Forgetting all about the kettle, Sally swung out into her living room and sat down on the sofa to replay her phone messages. She closed her eyes and listened to a blistering diatribe from William and slightly more reserved complaints from Carol and Theresa.

Yes. She should be helping them out with her physical presence. But if she could succeed in this film, she’d not only bring in enough money to save them all, but maybe the publicity would also be good for the restaurant.

She wiped the messages and lay back to study her call sheet for tomorrow. Some more tricky scenes, including one on a little motor boat – a cabin cruiser. Well, she would certainly look forward to that one as a fun way to end the day. She loved the sea, and she was an experienced helmswoman.

Smiling to herself, Sally took another sip of wine.

Eggy and the casting director! However much she tried not to put two and two together from the mobile snippets she had overheard, it was awfully difficult not to brood over the information. Had Eggy got the casting director up the duff? That’s certainly what it sounded like. No wonder she’d landed him the role. Sally looked down the list of crew, searching for the woman’s name. There it was. Right at the bottom. She had known many casting directors in her time but didn’t recognise this one. But, then, that was hardly surprising as she had been out of the business so long.