Fancy Phoo having been at it with that smarmy Dermott Presley all those years. She tried to do the maths and calculate if the affair could have been going on when she had worked with Phoo and realised they must certainly have been an item before the Markhams’ appearance on Ssssaturday Ssssslamerama! as Sally remembered making jokes about their characters, asking whether, after Phoo was glooped, Paddy would be coming to give her a brisk rubdown. Oops! Poor old Eggy. The meaning of his odd remark about not living with Phoo as man and wife for forty years suddenly became crystal-clear. No wonder he was looking out for hot dates in Nice.

Today the sea looked so gorgeous and inviting. So blue, its colour enhanced by the spots of white, curling across the vast horizon. But white horses meant wind. A storm must be coming up, which was not good news for tonight’s filming. She went back to double-check on the call sheet for today’s night shoot. Yes. It was a scene where she and Eggy once more drove some boat away, only this time it was a small one, and to be shot at night from the rocky shore at Èze. Oof! The sea could be tricky at the best of times around there. Lots of undersea rocks and lethal currents.

Ah well, Sally would be surrounded by a film crew, cameras whirring, so she would not be alone.

‘Morning, Mama.’ Marianne appeared, fully dressed and made up. ‘So which mystery man did you bring home last night? I heard someone furtively sneaking out a couple of hours ago.’

‘It was Theresa.’

‘God, Mum, you haven’t gone gay?’

‘For heaven’s sake, Marianne, don’t you start. I’ve already had too much of that from the barking Markhams.’

‘Oh, you mean that awful actress you were with last night? I remember her from when I was a kid. Wasn’t she the woman on that dire show Paddy and Pat?’

‘Marianne, please stop.’ Sally blocked her ears with the palms of her hands. ‘I never want to hear that phrase again as long as I live.’

‘What? That awful actress you were with . . .’

‘No. Paddy and Pat, stupid.’

‘Isn’t her husband in that film with you?’

‘Yes. So what?’ Sally threw up her arms in exasperation. ‘And anyway, what on earth were you doing drinking with that hairy ape who ruined our first, and only, boat delivery from La Mosaïque?’

‘He might be an irritating twit. But he has money problems. I thought I’d help out. Who knows? Might be a fee in it for me. I have to earn money somehow, now that I’ve been fired.’

‘Given your recent history, I think Roger would be safer getting financial advice from me.’

Ignoring her remark, Marianne continued. ‘He’s quite good-looking, though, Mum, you must admit. I could do worse.’