Simi spluttered her drink as they all broke into laughter. Thank God, thought Meagan. This day had become way too fraught. It felt good to finally have something to laugh about. As a second wave of giggling struck, Meagan’s office phone rang. Her laughter abruptly subsided. Todd was pushing his luck. She swiped the cordless phone out of its cradle.

‘Listen, I don’t care what you can do with your tongue, I want you to – Antonia. Hi!’

Meagan pushed the receiver into her chest and facepalmed before composing herself.

‘Sorry, Antonia, no I said, tongs not tongue. I just sacked my hairdresser and he’s taken it badly. Anyway, what can I do for you?’

Meagan listened, occasionally nodding as Jemima and Simi watched on.

‘Okay, got it… I see. Right. Thanks,’ she said before hanging up.

She turned to Simi, her face sombre.

‘Are you doing that thing where you pretend it’s bad news – but it’s not,’ Simi asked.

‘I’m sorry, angel. They went another way,’ said Meagan. ‘They’re idiots, obviously.’

‘Obviously,’ Jemima added rubbing Simi’s back.

Simi nodded and returned to her wall, paint dripping down her arm from her roller.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Meagan pacing, the dead receiver still in her hand. ‘You played it exactly how I told you?’

‘Yup,’ said Simi still staring at the wall. ‘They even put on a special filter. A blueberry or… gooseberry…’

Meagan stopped pacing, ‘You mean a strawberry filter?’

‘That’s it.’

Meagan’s head dropped. That was not good at all.

‘What’s a strawberry filter?’ asked Jemima.

‘It means,’ said Meagan, ‘they weren’t recording. It’s an old trick they use for street interviews. If someone’s being weird, the director will ask the cameraman for a strawberry filter.’

‘As in, don’t record them?’ asked Jemima.

Meagan nodded. ‘What did you do, Sim?’

The room went quiet.

‘I did what you told me to and that’s why they thought I was bonkers! The second time round, Cameron didn’t even want to read with me… in a chemistry read! Your notes were way off,’ Simi blurted.

‘Excuse me?’ said Meagan.

‘They’re always off. The only reason I do them is because you took me on when no one else would and I’m grateful for that, but what’s the point if it’s making things worse? And now I’m stuck, like, if I don’t do what you say, I’ll get in trouble even if what you say is completely wrong,’ said Simi quivering.

Meagan took a long breath. It would be unfair to unleash on Simi who was clearly high on paint fumes and not in her right mind. Simi looked at the floor.

‘I mean, you could just do your own thing, Simi. It is your audition,’ said Jemima.

Meagan threw a silencing glare across the room and Jemima went back to her painting.

‘I want your input, Meag, I really do but just… read the scripts – properly. Not everything is about comedy,’ said Simi playing with the handle of her roller. ‘Sometimes I wonder if your notes might be why I’m not getting anywhere.’