Eggy raised his hand to attract the waiter. He pointed to the bottle, which Sally realised was almost empty, though she had only had two glasses.

She ordered a cheese platter and a plate of charcuterie to absorb some of the alcohol. Eggy was really knocking it back. At this rate he’d still be drunk by the time they were filming their scenes tomorrow. He was already moving into the maudlin stage of inebriation.

‘Just make it two glasses, please.’ Sally spoke to the waiter in French. Eggy wouldn’t notice if another bottle didn’t materialise.

While picking at the salami, his eyes filled with tears. ‘It’s hard work, you know, being married.’

Thinking about Phoo, Sally could certainly see Eggy’s point, but also knew she was in no position to say anything. Those two had been married since Sally was in her teens, were still married, and tomorrow Eggy would be sober.

The two glasses of wine arrived. Eggy knocked his straight back.

‘Everything in life is hard,’ Sally said. A reply anodyne enough to mean absolutely nothing.

‘Believe me. Marriage is the hardest.’ Eggy’s lower lip quivered. He stilled it by picking up his empty glass, pretending to sip at nothing.

‘Are you not in love any more?’ Sally threw all caution to the wind. Why not ask straight out? ‘Is that it?’

Eggy didn’t say anything. He just hung his head. The silence spoke volumes.

‘If you really think like that, Eggy, perhaps you should consider separating.’

He turned to her, horror spread across his face. ‘We can’t do that!’

‘Why not?’

‘Because . . . because . . . because we’re us.’ Eggy looked at Sally with a childlike bewilderment. ‘We’re famous for being married. The Magical Markhams! That’s us. Divorce? Can you imagine? No. No. Can’t be done. Not now, anyway. Much too difficult all round.’

Sally felt very uncomfortable at having wheedled out this confession. What could she say? Better to appear disinterested, impartial. Though it all seemed tragic.

‘Anyway,’ Eggy hiccuped as he continued, ‘poor Phoo has had a few setbacks recently. She is still my best friend. We rub along, you know. We both know about the business and how it works. Imagine trying to explain the days when you can’t go to your wife’s birthday party because you’re filming in Monaco! She knows about all that stuff because it’s the same for her. Plus – most important of all – we make each other laugh.’

Each to his own, Sally thought.

She imagined there might be better reasons for living with a person. But there you are.

Chacun à son goût.

She glanced at the clock. It was getting late. Almost eleven. She got the bill and asked the waiter if he could call them a taxi.