But that Daniel, the director, might also be worried, nervous that his work might be badly judged, had never occurred to her. She had been so wrapped up in her own fear she’d forgotten that she wasn’t the only person on set who was feeling anxious.

Eggy gave her a nod and Sally smoothed down the front of her costume, ready to go for take fourteen.

‘Don’t mind me!’ Sally heard a whispered voice in the dark ahead. ‘I’m not really here! Ssssshhh! Ssssshhhh!’

She knew well the rounded tones of Eggy’s wife, Phoo Taylor-Markham. Who had let her on to the set?

Sally tried to continue as though Phoo was not out there, watching her, hiding in the dark corner, lurking behind the script editor, the grip, the sound operator, the wardrobe assistants and make-up girls.

But she could not.

She found herself almost anticipating Phoo’s rude remarks.

‘Scene ninety, take fourteen.’

‘And action!’

Sally began afresh but when her line approached the words all came out in the wrong order.

Daniel cut again, barking at the camera crew to keep turning.

‘End slate!’ Daniel ran both hands through his slightly greased hair and landed them with a slap on his thighs.

By the time they had a decent take, the crew were grumbling about their lunch break.

The location catering was set up in a car park, walking distance from the afternoon location. Daniel, checking his watch, asked the actors if they didn’t mind losing some of their break so that they could go ahead to the beach and run through the scene a few times before the technical department arrived to set up. Eggy and Sally agreed.

They were both taken briefly to the location in a van then back to base.

Sally had not caught a glimpse of Phoo since they’d moved on from that unnerving seventeen-take scene and now wondered if she hadn’t been imagining hearing her voice.

‘I saw the rushes last night,’ whispered Judy.

Sally felt a flash of expectant excitement.

‘You looked good. We made the right choice with that shade of lipstick.’

Sally had forgotten that on a film set you were rarely paid a compliment; everyone was only really concerned with their own contribution. Therefore when make-up artists were watching the rushes all they looked at was the make-up!

The van drew to a stop and Sally got out.

A wardrobe girl rushed forward with an overall to cover her costume.

‘Don’t want you smeared with mayonnaise for this afternoon,’ she said. ‘There are no washing facilities down here.’

Sally made her way to the back of the queue, got her food and then walked to the tented area, where tables had been set up for everyone to eat.

And there was Phoo, seated at the tech crew’s table, her arm around Eggy, holding up a large glass of rosé, throwing her head back and laughing, teeth bared.