As the boat pulled out for the final part of the scene, Sally, dripping from head to toe, took her place at Jean-Philippe’s side. They both laughed.

‘I think I should drive you home to Bellevue-sur-Mer,’ he murmured. ‘Leave them all behind.’

They heard Daniel’s final: ‘Cut. Check that. If it’s OK, that’s a wrap, folks. Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. See you tomorrow.’

‘Seriously . . . want a lift? I do have to drive past Bellevue-sur-Mer. We could have a drink?’

As she was due to share the car back with Eggy, which obviously now meant Phoo as well, Sally was delighted to accept Jean-Philippe’s offer of a lift home, though she declined the drink. She had a lot to learn for tomorrow.

Jean-Philippe swung the boat round and sped back to the shore, where the wardrobe team held out warm towels for Sally.

Later, outside her house, by now in the dark, she climbed out of his sports car and paused on the pavement waving him off. She stood for a moment, watching his tail lights disappear up the hill.

Having declined the drink, she had arranged to have dinner with him the next possible evening when she had no early filming the following day.

What fabulous luck to have had Jean-Philippe on set! But then she supposed there weren’t that many qualified boat teachers around the area who’d have been available for a shoot.

As she turned the key in the lock, someone ran down the hill towards her.

‘Where on earth have you been? I’ve been waiting here for hours. I went to the restaurant but they claimed they had no idea where you were, so I ended up having an early supper there, rather than sitting on your doorstep all evening. They’re furious with you, by the way!’

‘Marianne? Was I . . . ? I don’t remember your saying you’d be coming here?’

‘Just open the door, Mum. Why are you all caked with make-up? And who was that bearded bloke in the Renault? And, eurgh, your hair’s all wet and sandy? You haven’t been naked night-swimming together, have you? Please don’t let me keep that image in my head.’

Sally burbled some answers, but she realised that Marianne wasn’t listening.

‘You should have warned me, darling. I’d have arranged a key for you.’

‘It never occurred to me, Mum, that you would have turned into a lady of the night. I just thought you’d be there at the restaurant as usual, or in your little van, or here.’

‘You still haven’t explained why you’ve arrived at such short notice – well, let’s be frank: absolutely no notice whatsoever.’

‘I’ve been told to get out of the office and advised to lie low for a week. And I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.’