As she sat in the back of the van which took her and the make-up girls to the final location of the day, Sally once more scanned her lines. She looked out of the window at the stunning views of Monaco harbour and mouthed the lines to her own reflection. She hoped that the bloke playing Gilbert was funny. It was easy to see that her laughs would depend on his delivery.

The van drew up outside a luxurious hotel on the seafront. The Third Assistant took them up to the suite where they would film the last scene.

‘I’m afraid the other unit is running a little behind, Sally, so I’m going to walk through the scene with you now. Then, when your partner in crime turns up, we can go straight for a take.’ He indicated the room. ‘We’ve only got this suite for a few hours. So we need to wrap and have all of our kit out of here by eight p.m. at the very latest.’

When the tea break came round – a trolley with a platter of finger sandwiches, and polystyrene cups of coffee and tea – Sally took hers out on to the balcony and sat watching the sunset, making the most of the ravishing view, with all the twinkling decorations of the yachts going by, strung over with flags and coloured lights. Imagine being rich enough to take this room! How wonderful that would be. She looked down at the grim faces of people passing. The strange thing was that every trip she had made to Monte Carlo – and, earlier in her life, to another tax haven, Jersey – seemed to indicate that the richer you were the more miserable you appeared. What she saw now confirmed that.

She was chuckling to herself, thinking that there might be some balance in the world, and that not being on the top of the financial heap could have its benefits, when the Third Assistant called her inside to shoot the scene.

The others had arrived.

Daniel was standing in the corner talking earnestly to an actor who had his back to Sally. He was kitted out in a mind-boggling floral sun suit consisting of a short-sleeved jacket and matching shorts. She gave a quiet bravo to the costume designer. That costume was hilarious – a brilliant touch. Even from the back view, the man looked like an utter twit.

‘First positions, please.’

Sally flopped on to the sofa and picked up the colourful mock cocktail which she had to fiddle with in the scene and eventually spill all over herself.