‘Maisie will be so proud of you when you get this film made.’ He says it as if he has sensed she needs some anchoring and reassurance. ‘It’s a wonderful feeling, to have your child see your work. It’s how they come to know you in a whole different way.’

He takes a drink. ‘And it will be made, I guarantee you that. No matter what happens, even if we lose Emilia and Sharon, even if I have to pay for the thing myself, that film will get made. It’s a story that needs to be told.’ He lays his glass down on a coaster. ‘I couldn’t forgive myself if my own stupidity fucked it up for you after you’d landed it in Cannes.’

The smile he gives her is one that demands to be reciprocated.

And she does smile back, but only mildly, and he drinks again. ‘It can’t be easy for you, all this,’ he says. ‘I had another casting thought. I was thinking of getting my friend Simon Bach to play Jason. What do you think? He’ll do it if I ask. But it’s your film. Your choice.’

‘Yes,’ she says, feeling her eyes light up as if she’s taking receipt of a gift-wrapped box. Simon Bach. Gained the respect of audiences and financiers for choosing high-quality art-house films that ended up outperforming more commercial ventures. He progressed into Marvel, other franchises, always ones that were reviewed well and made millions at the box office. A little older than Emilia. Rugged, blue-eyed, tanned. Dates the A-list world. Rumoured to be gay and worth a fortune.

‘I think that would be great.’ Presents, favours. All reciprocal, aren’t they? ‘Sorry, Matthew, is there a window in here? Can we open a window?’

Matthew opens a window a crack.

‘Do you want to talk to Sharon about him then?’ He is all deference with her. ‘You don’t need him to get it made, but you’ll get a lot more money with him on board. Asia and both the Americas love him.’

‘I’m the woman that Amber saw,’ says Becky.

‘I know.’

Becky is near tears. She wonders if she needs to bother hiding them now.

‘CCTV loop. It’s very discreet but the insurers demanded it as part of the cover for some of our paintings. It downloads in real time to a server. Wipes after twenty-four hours. I’m really sorry you walked in on that little scene. Can I ask what you were doing?’

‘I wanted to give you a bottle of wine to say thanks.’

‘For what?’

‘For taking me to Cannes. Believing in me.’

‘Ah, right.’

‘I took the bottle away with me. Sorry.’