Although exhausted, as Sally trudged up the shingle, while wardrobe staff surrounded her, pulling off the costume jewellery and throwing warm blankets over her wet evening dress, something about tonight’s escapade made her want to dance and sing.

‘Hope there wasn’t a hair in the gate,’ she called out as she passed the camera operator. ‘Call me unprofessional, but I’m not willing to do a second take on that one. And if you don’t like it you can sue me!’

‘I take my hat off to you, Sally,’ he replied as he started packing up his equipment. ‘We caught most of what happened on a zoom lens. We’d stopped rolling, but I assure you that we never let you out of our sight.’

‘You are quite the heroine,’ added the First Assistant. ‘Talk about sangfroid.’

‘I could have done with having some way of communicating with you, actually,’ she replied. ‘It wasn’t a good idea to let us go out there willy-nilly.’

‘My bad!’ Daniel, apologetic and hunched, scampered to Sally’s side. ‘They all wanted to give you a walkie-talkie or something, Sandy—’

‘Sally!’

‘I thought it might show, or you’d start using it too early and it might ruin the scene or . . . it would take away from the authenticity . . .’

Sally threw him a glance in disbelief.

There were no words.

‘It’s lucky for you, Daniel, that I know how to use a ship’s radio. At least I could call in for emergency help, even if I did manage to save us before they reached us. Oh. Yes. Someone better phone them and say we’ve made it to land.’

Sally noticed that other members of the crew had started looking out to sea once more.

‘Looks like they’ve got here.’ The First pointed out into the bay, where a large grey lifeboat, searchlights scanning the water, was thundering in their direction.

Someone from the boat was talking through a loudspeaker.

The First Assistant grabbed his megaphone and replied in French. ‘The two children are safe. They are here with the SAMU. Their boat is destroyed. Over.’

‘Their grandmother is here with us, on board,’ called the lifeboat. ‘She wants to come ashore. Can you assist? Over.’

The First Assistant grouped as many of the crew together as he could, and they waded out to pull in the small tender, which a few minutes later carried Theresa to the shore.

Hearing the interchange, Sally turned and rushed down to the water’s edge to join them, torn evening dress twinkling in the reflection of the searchlights.

‘Come along, darling!’ Sally looked at Theresa’s clothing, which was also ripped and ruined. ‘What happened to you?’

‘Long story,’ Theresa panted. ‘Where are they?’

Hand in hand, the two women scrambled up the beach to the ambulance, where, wrapped in gold foil blankets, Chloe and Neil sat sipping warm drinks.

‘Thank God,’ cried Theresa.