Siobhan whistles through her teeth like a bomb flying through the air. Then for a short time they listen to Antonia and Matthew’s raised voices behind the door, nothing distinct enough for them to understand exactly what the argument is about but enough for it to become clear to Becky that it might concern the woman on the floor of their well-appointed kitchen.

Becky fights the urge to cower under her own arms as if that were protection enough from the explosion that will surely come. And, as the net of aggravated people surrounding Matthew widens, Becky fears he will take his frustration out on her by frog-marching her out of the office saying she stepped over one too many boundaries. She saw him part-stripped of his clothes in his own home and part-stripped of his dignity and composure in the office and it’s too hard to maintain a professional façade after that kind of thing.

Becky finds herself googling her boss’s name, wanting to know the identity of the woman getting between such a couple.

She feels afraid of what might happen next and yet also relieved that someone other than her knows about the woman on the kitchen floor. Surely Becky can afford to forget what she saw now that it’s clearly just business between husband and wife?

She takes hold of her own wrist, lightly, instinctively, and bends the joint at small angles, back and forth, back and forth so that it aches a little.

Antonia leaves very suddenly and in silence.

Matthew appears in the doorway of his office.

‘Where were we?’ he says. ‘Siobhan. Yes. Your film outline. The idea doesn’t hold together. It’s muddled. But that casting idea you had. Emilia Cosvelinos?’

‘Yes?’ Siobhan’s eyes brighten with hope.

‘She’s a great idea for Becky’s film. She’ll be in Cannes promoting her Scorsese movie, we should get a breakfast booked in with her. I’m mates with the agent. I’ll put the call in. He’ll go out to bat for us if Emilia bites – but she won’t bite unless it’s fucking irresistible and if the Scorsese film’s as good as everyone’s saying it is, then she’ll want an Oscar for whatever she does next. It’s worth a shot.’

Becky squirms with discomfort. ‘Mightn’t it be better if you pitched it to her, Matthew?’ she says, trying to put some space between her and what is happening. ‘As your idea. I mean, you’ve won Oscars for actresses—’

‘No. I like the project. But you love it. It’s your baby. That goes a long way with actors. Pitch her like you pitched me and you’ll do fine. Right, that’s it. Siobhan, can you get our man from IcePR on the line.’ It’s not a request. ‘I need to speak with him as soon as possible. Tell him it’s urgent.’