His voice is warm milk and whisky. He has described her as someone who works with and not for him and he has used her full name. Pathetic, she thinks, so pathetic, that she feels important to him when he speaks it, as if the name she was given is worth more coming from his mouth. And yet, her legs feel a little stronger and she sits a little taller now.

‘Alex is a film critic. Alex Simms?’ says Matthew.

‘Ah yes,’ she says, recognizing him from his byline. ‘I love your reviews. Always unsparing, always very funny.’

His shoulders flex a little wider. Becky can tell he’s pleased.

‘I hope I’ve spared anyone you know,’ he says.

‘I think you called Tommy Sheridan’s last effort “well-intentioned”. He was in the office last week for a meeting. Said he cried for a week, but didn’t deny you’d nailed it.’

Alex laughs. Delighted. ‘He’s a good director but he’s got a terrible sweet tooth,’ he says.

‘I think he’ll end up doing musicals and making an absolute fortune,’ says Becky.

‘You’re a hundred per cent right.’

Matthew smiles. And Becky has the odd sensation that she is standing outside her own life, watching a woman in her skin do a half-decent job of this thing which is flirting and flattery and bonding and, she supposes, networking.

Alex is a good deal shorter than her. His eyes are pale and filled with a darting energy that makes him look like a young deer until he smiles, when the fine skin around his eyes concertinas to betray his age. He looks at the ruffle lining her décolletage first, and then meets her eyes second. Becky remembers to give them warmth but without the insinuation of an invitation. Her price isn’t ever her own body, but she knows that’s by no means the case for those around her.

‘So you’re meeting with Emilia? I just came out of the screening for her new film actually,’ he says.

‘How was it?’

‘Reviews are embargoed till midnight, but it’s five stars. It’s going to win everything.’

‘What’s she like in it?’ asks Matthew.

‘Yeah, well, what to say … she’s great. But she’s not the lead. She’ll get a supporting nod. She’ll want the main course next.’

‘That’s brilliant,’ says Becky. ‘I think she’s incredible.’

‘You’ll struggle to get her now, my friend.’

She feels Matthew’s eyes on her. It’s not like it’s a test; this is just the back and forth of a conversation, but still. How to say the perfect thing. How to be confident and not frightened, not cocky but still impregnable. Is that what this place wants?

‘Well,’ says Becky finally, ‘I’ve got something in common with Emilia. We’d both like to see her win Best Actress.’